Next morning they did not start so early, because the great plain before them was shrouded under a fog, and they waited for it to pass off.

It was not dispelled until the sun had risen in the heavens behind them, for their backs were still to the east, their route lying due westward.

During the night, and again in the morning, they had discussed the question of striking straight across the plain, or making a circuitous march around it. When the fog at length lifted, this point was definitely settled by what they saw before and on each side of them, that the great valley plain extended both to right and left beyond the limits of their vision. To go round it might add scores of miles and many days to their journey. They could not think of taking such a circuitous route, even with the fear of the wild men before them; a danger Captain Redwood believed to be greatly exaggerated by the Malay, who in such matters was of a somewhat imaginative turn. Throwing aside all thought of such an encounter, they struck down the mountain slope, determined on crossing the plain.

It was sunset when they arrived at the mountain-foot, and another night was passed there.

On the following morning they commenced the passage of the plain; which introduced them to a very different and much more difficult kind of travelling than any they had experienced since leaving the sea-coast. Some parts of their journey, both in the ascent and descent, had been toilsome enough; but the slopes, as well as the summits, were comparatively clear of underwood. On the low level it was quite another affair. The huge forest-trees were loaded with parasitical creepers, which, stretching from trunk to trunk in all directions, formed here and there an impenetrable net or trellis-work. In such places the kris of Saloo, and the ship’s axe carried by Murtagh, were called into requisition, and much time was expended in cutting a way through the tangled growth.

Another kind of obstacle was also occasionally met with, in the brakes of bamboo, where these gigantic canes, four or five inches in diameter, and rising to a height of over fifty feet, grew so close together that even a snake would have found difficulty in working its way through them. Fortunately, their stems being hollow, they are easily brought down, and a single stroke from the axe, or even Saloo’s sharp kris, given slantingly, would send one of them crashing over, its leafy top bearing along with it the long ribbon-like leaves of many others.

One of these cane brakes proved to be upwards of a mile in width, and its passage delayed them at least three hours. They might have attempted to get round it, but they did not know how far it extended. Possibly ten or twenty miles—for the bamboo thickets often run in belts, their growth being due to the presence of some narrow water track, or the course of a stream. In the Indian Archipelago are several species of these tall canes, usually known by the general name of bamboo, though differing from each other in size and other respects. They furnish to the inhabitants of these islands the material for almost every article required for their domestic economy—as the various species of palms do to the natives of South America—more especially the denizens of the great Amazon valley. Not only are their houses constructed of bamboo, but the greater portion of their praus; while utensils of many kinds, cups, bottles, and water-casks of the best make, are obtained from its huge joints, cheaply and conveniently. A bare catalogue of bamboo tools and utensils would certainly occupy several pages.

Notwithstanding its valuable properties, our travellers hated the sight of it; and more than once the Irishman, as he placed his axe upon the silicious culms, was heard to speak disrespectfully about it, “weeshin’ that there wasn’t a stalk of the cane in all Burnayo.”