The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1928-04-27

ways of the coastal plains and the
pass over the mountains are all macad-
amized. In the highlands, where
metaling has not yet been attempted,
such roads as exist are of very diff
ferent type. These are of dirt or clay,
well built and maintained, and good in
dry weather. But Sumatra has an
enormous annual rainfall, and during
the wet season these clay roads be-
come almost impossible.
Mountains and Great Forests.
The road from Medan TO the in
terror, however, gives no warning of
what is to follow. Leaving the plains
and the tobacco plantations, it grad
ually ascends through wilder country,
and presently, with well engineered
zigzags, begins to climb into the
mountains.
AS the road climbs higher the semi
tropical vegetation which has sue
ceeded the coarse grass of the denuded
plains gives way in turn to magnifi-
cent virgin forests, unbroken except
for the narrow, winding path Of the
road. The enormous straight-trunked
trees, ensnared by giant creepers,
vines, and huge air plants, make so
thick a canopy overhead that only
dim twilight filters in, and that fails
to reach the ground through the dense,
impenetrable tangle Of vegetation.
Little brooks of clear water rush
steeply down the mountainside, hurry
ing to the sluggish yellow rivers of the
plains their tiny contributions for the
extensions of Sumatra's coast. But
terflies fit in the blue-black shadows;
jungle fowl, their brilliance all sub
dued in the obscure half light, vanish
silently from the edges of the road as
one approaches, and other little creep
ing and fugitive things seek the Sc
curity of the UNDERTAKING jungle.
Insects with voices out of all pro-
portion to their probable size scream
shrilly from the branches, and the
occasional whistle of bird or the
dull boom of a falling tree echo
through the silent, dark recesses of
the wood.
Much of the life of the jungle is to
be seen along this little frequented
road which opens up the very heart of
the virgin forest; but infinitely more
is the observer observed. Sometimes
the crack of a broken branch betrays
the hurried withdrawal of a larger
animal, or wnirr of wings that of
some startled bird; but only ones own
sixth sense tells of the hidden watch
ers who silently follow an intruding
mans progress with wondering, un-
friendly eyes. a
Hordes of Monkeys.
The swaying of branches overhead
as one zigzags up the pass does not
mean wind in the quiet forest; it
means monkeys, and their antics are
an unfailing amusement. Some wait
in silence until the traveller draws
near, then plunge back into the forest
with a crash of branches which in
evitably produces the shock they seem
to have designed. Some tear furiously
along through the trees in desperate
attempt to cross In front of the car.
When they do cross, far overhead,
in stream of small gray bodies flying
through the air between the treetops,
they as furiously race along on the
other side and cross back again.
Others cling to swaying branches and
bound up and down in frenzy of ex-
element, shrieking gibes in sharp
crescendo.
Often in the midst of their agita-
ton they suddenly lose all interest and
forthwith pay no more attention to the
intruders; or sit in silence with weaz-
ened, whiskered faces peering solemn
Iy down from the trees.
AS In Ceylon, it would be disastrous
to leave the motor dnguarded any,
where In a Sumatra forest, for every
thing that prying fingers could un-
screw or remove would soon be re-
posing in the treetops.
There are many tribes of the mon
key people: little black fellows with
very long tails; troops Of impudent
brown ones; shy black-and-white mon
keys with fine silky coats; and hordes
of big gray beasts who chase and
tweak each other, evOking shrieks of
protest Aloof from the bands that
| feed and gambol together, are a few
enormous black bulks which from the
distance might be curious vegetable
formations in the trees But they
move, and when examined through
| glasses, are seen to be orangoutanga
found here and in Borneo.