‘In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.’
– John Muir (1838–1914). Muir was a Scottish-American naturalist, author, environmental philosopher, and early advocate for the preservation of wilderness in the United States. He is often referred to as the “Father of the National Parks” due to his significant role in the establishment of several national parks, including Yosemite National Park.
Since 1962, I had been away from the Kedap longhouse, residing at the jungle’s edge in the middle of the Melupa basin in Saratok.
This decision was guided by the wisdom of dear Apai (father), who initiated a fresh start for our family by constructing a new home for us at Bukit Tinggi, approximately a 30-minute walk through the jungle from the newly established Nanga Assam Primary School at the confluence of the Assam downriver.
Our group consisted of five individuals, including Apai in his 50s, me, my maternal grandma Kejuang, then in her 70s, my mom in her 40s, and my elder brother Jon, also known as Chandi, who was 14 at the time.
Apai emphasized that having two of us siblings attend school would be more convenient due to the shorter distance compared to commuting from the Kedap longhouse situated farther down the river.
For Apai and my mother, the plan was to begin tapping our rubber trees at Bukit Tinggi and extend this effort to another rubber plantation further upriver at Sungai Belong, just a 20-minute walk from Bukit Tinggi.
The rubber garden at Sungai Belong had been tapped years earlier but after thad had been temporarily untouched for a few years.
Upon relocating to our new home at Bukit Tinggi, situated on a hill overlooking the crystal-clear Melupa River below, I started to appreciate the beauty of the remote hinterland.
The area was adorned with lush green leaves and tree canopies enveloping the river on both sides, with tall trees, some boasting crooked branches. The air was filled with the melodies of diverse birds and insects, alongside various plant species and wildlife.
In the evenings, we would witness the majestic spectacle of the sunset on clear days, while thunder and lightning would herald the arrival of rain on other occasions.
By the age of ten, I courageously ventured out alone to fish using a rod in the main river and the nearby stream of Sungai Tapang.
Additionally, I joined my two cousins, Kimboi Bungin (now deceased) and Madil Jatan from the nearby Lubok Bundong longhouse, in fishing using the tuba in the upper stream of Sungai Tapang. We engaged in this activity multiple times and achieved successful catches of fish and prawns.
Since the age of eight, I have been accompanying Apai on night fishing expeditions along the Melupa River, starting from Nanga Assam and extending to Bukit Tinggi and beyond.
These were memorable experiences despite the challenges of the night, such as being bitten by red ants and stinging insects.
Nevertheless, these moments were also cherished as they often resulted in rewarding catches of fish, prawns, and bullfrogs.
On one occasion, Apai speared seven bullfrogs during their mating session, leading us to catch over 30 bullfrogs that night. We also successfully caught large Semah fish and the white carp known as ‘Ikan Tunggal’ a couple of times.
By our second year at Bukit Tinggi, we had raised no fewer than 200 chickens, including roosters. I vividly remember the envy of other children at school, including Jon and myself, as our daily chicken meals, prepared in various styles, were a highlight.
Mom found herself running out of cooking ideas. We commuted to school for two years before transitioning to boarding in early 1964. However, this transition did not hinder my enjoyment of the jungle’s beauty.
In addition to chickens, we also raised over ten large pigs that roamed freely over the unfenced rubber plantation. I recall an incident where Jon and I transported two large pigs downriver to Kedap using a borrowed boat to sell them at a Chinese shop.
Sing Kee, whose wife was Iban, purchased the pigs for at least RM200, stating that one pikul would fetch RM100. Each pig weighed over a pikul (equivalent to 100 kati).
This marked the first time I witnessed such a large sum of money, kept by Jon and intended to be given to Apai later.
Our humble abode was a place filled with love and happiness.
One early evening, a group of wild pheasants, known as ‘sengayan,’ mingled with our chickens, offering Apai an opportunity to catch about a dozen using a net.
This event was seen as a stroke of good fortune, symbolized by several occurrences, including my achievement as the first individual from Melupa to earn a university degree.
During a weekend leave in 1969 from Saratok Secondary School, I accompanied Apai on a jungle expedition to our vast land at Sungai Pentik upriver. Our purpose was to set traps for porcupines in an area with wild mango trees bearing ripe fruits.
While Apai prepared two traps using fallen mangoes as bait, I opted to create two traps using wild mangosteens around the bases of the mango trees. We left the traps in place for the next few days.
Upon returning for another weekend leave from SMK Saratok three weeks later, I learned that my trap had successfully caught a porcupine, credited to the allure of the mangosteen bait.
The simple logic behind the porcupine’s choice resonated with me – opting for mangosteen among the many fallen mangoes that were not part of the trap’s bait.
Excitedly, I shared this insight with Apai, who, along with my mom and grandma, enjoyed the porcupine meat in my absence.
Reflecting on a comical incident involving the neighbour’s chickens, I recalled trapping about four or five of them with Jon, with two ending up in Mom’s cooking pot. We grew weary of feeding their chickens, especially since the neighbours were often absent.
Consequently, Jon and I decided to catch five chickens in a single day, sacrificing two for mom’s cooking, despite already having a substantial flock of around 200 chickens. Although Apai disapproved of our actions, he still relished the meal prepared by Mom.
Another adventurous pastime involved capturing two foxes using a chicken trap, providing Jon and me with thrills during school breaks as we matured.
However, these cunning foxes managed to prey on more of our chickens, proving to be formidable opponents in our attempts to safeguard our poultry.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the Sarawak Tribune.
