Madai

Wednesday, April 13th 1887.—Oppressively hot. We made Tanjong Unsang at daylight, and steamed southward and westward along a fine coast. At noon we had come 135 miles, and were in lat. 4° 57´ N., long. 118° 47´ E.

All hands were busily engaged during the morning in preparing the large cutter for Tab's projected shooting expedition this afternoon. She is a fine big boat, temporarily fitted with a ridge-roofed awning and boards on which beds can be placed, thus making her almost like a house-boat. Everything that could be thought of as likely to be wanted was put into her; but notwithstanding all that foresight and care could do, I felt rather uncomfortable about this lonely and somewhat risky enterprise.

In the afternoon we steamed down a little out of our course towards the island of Timbu Mata, which is said to abound with deer and wild pig, to drop the cutter with Tab and four men from the crew in her, all armed with rifles, cutlasses, and revolvers, besides their sporting weapons. Then we proceeded on our course to Silam in Darvel Bay, 175 miles from Sandakan, where we anchored about 6 p.m. A prahu came alongside at once, manned by natives and having on board a specimen of the worst type of rough Australian gold-diggers—very tipsy, poor man, and very anxious to come on board the yacht. His efforts in this direction were, however, repulsed, and we finally induced the native crew to take him back to the shore.