Towards the end of August of last year I made an official trip of about six weeks' duration through the game reserve of Oedjoeng Koelon, a peninsula in the south-west of Bantam (Java). I was specially interested in exploring the interior, into which, as far as I know, no European had as yet penetrated; but this is not to be wondered at, seeing that the virgin state of this region renders exploration exceedingly difficult, and demands great physical endurance. Several of the larger freshwater rivers, indeed, can partly be navigated in small proas, but under the most favourable circumstances this is only possible for a couple of miles where- upon the journey must be continued on foot. Even in the dry season this is no easy matter, not so much because one must continually wade up to one's waist in the water, but mainly since one is compelled time and again to leave the river bed, either because fallen trees or other obstacles block the way, or else because the water suddenly deepens, making further foothold impossible, so that swimming would be the only alternative. Then one scrambles up the frequently sheer river bank, where a path must be cleared through the dense vegetation, mainly consisting of a thick growth of various bamboo species particularly luxurious along these rivers. One of the greatest trials of the explorer is the thorny bamboo, whilst the prickly 'Isalak' and various species of rattan (hoj?), make the going very difficult, especially for the native carriers. Fortunately I had more than one pair of shoes in my kit, and these I made the carriers wear in this `domain of the thorn'.
As there are no `tegals' or grazing land, in the interior, the big game here (banteng and deer) is very scarce. It was only very occasionally that I came across their spoor. The track of the rhinoceros was not found here as often as might have been expected. The number of old rhino paths near the rivers, however, is quite large. The number of old rhino paths near the rivers, however, is quite large. I found these typical guilied paths, leading to the water, along every river I visited. These paths, so deeply worn into the hard river banks, must have been used for many years. They date most probably from a far distant period, when the number of rhinos was much greater than it is now, though the present number may still be adequate to keep the species from extinction, as may be supposed when we consider the data now in our possession.
On three occasions I had the good fortune to see a rhinoceros and I shall describe some of these encounters which all of them took place during the last week of my expedition.
One of the animals had pushed down a tree of about six inches in diameter, which was now lying with its roots exposed, apparently to reach the foliage and the thin topmost twigs that had been consumed leaves and all. The animal had not eaten much, however, a fact which I noticed later in other instances. A large number of trees, overturned or uprooted by rhinos, were examined, and it seemed to me that the badak (rhinoceros) had done this to reach the leaves and the topmost twigs, though but little of it had been consumed.
One of the animals had pushed down a tree of about six inches in diameter, which was now lying with its roots exposed, apparently to reach the foliage and the thin topmost twigs that had been consumed leaves and all. The animal had not eaten much, however, a fact which I noticed later in other instances. A large number of trees, overturned or uprooted by rhinos, were examined, and it seemed to me that the badak (rhinoceros) had done this to reach the leaves and the topmost twigs, though but little of it had been consumed.
The number of old rhino paths near the rivers, however, is quite large. I found these typical gullied paths, leading to the water, along every river I visited. These paths, so deeply worn into the hard river banks, must have been used for many years. They date most probably from a far distant period, when the number of rhinos was much greater than it is now, though the present number may still be adequate to keep the species from extinction, as may be supposed when we consider the data now in our possession. One night we heard a tremendous crashing of bamboo in a grove not far from the bivouac I had made near the Tjikarang River. On going to the spot next morning we found that a rhino had smashed several fairly thick bamboos to pass through the dense vegetation. The spoor indicated that the rhino had descended to the river, had followed it for a few score yards in our direction, and then had crossed to the other side, to disappear quietly into the bush.
Ujung Kulon. A rhino appeared at the edge of the pool. It was of medium size: its slightly raised head carried a fine horn which must have made my native companion's mouth water.
I had scarcely been more than a few days in the game reserve when in the night I was awakened by frightened coolies who told me that a rhino had been heard close by. And the peculiar short call of a rhino was indeed repeated. The call of the rhino was later also heard several times, twice even in the middle of the day. Apart from this noise, which was seldom heard, at least during the time that I was in the rhino country, these animals drew attention to their presence by the terrific noise they sometimes made.
