风下之乡
In 1938, writer Agnes Newton Keith joined her husband Harry, who worked in forestry, on a journey into the rivers and rainforest of southeastern British North Borneo.
From Sandakan they sailed south to Tawau, changed to dugout canoes at Kalabakan and travelled upstream. After crossing the watershed, they descended the Kuamut and Kinabatangan to the sea.
Sandakan
Early June 1938
Newlands, on the hill above Sandakan, was the Keiths’ base for domestic life, writing and forestry work. The expedition had already been postponed three times—twice because rain made the rivers impassable. When Agnes finally left, she was still feverish and knew that both body and memory would be altered before she walked up the garden path again.
Today’s Agnes Keith House was built in 1946–47. Rising on the same site after the war, it carries Newlands’ domestic memory forward without pretending to be the house of 1938 preserved intact.
“When I next walked up this garden path … my mind would hold all the memories I wanted to linger over.”
New rendering from the 2016 Chinese edition
Tawau — Sebatik Island
The expedition’s first stage
At Tawau they met Winki, a geologist for the oil company, then sailed for Sebatik in a bagong carrying a black-and-yellow sail. City shoes and socks went into the bottom of the boat; bare feet suited the water better.
Winki planned more oil-test holes while Harry collected tree specimens. Through a stereoscope, aerial photographs that first resembled caviar and insects suddenly became treetops, deep forest and river channels. A light tent borrowed from the Medical Department—and the first strong camp coffee—completed the shift from domestic routine to field life.
“We took off our shoes and socks, spread them on the deck, and settled comfortably into bare feet.”
New rendering from the 2016 Chinese edition
Kalabakan
1938.06.03
At Kalabakang the means of travel changed completely. The party transferred to locally made perahus: roughly twenty feet long, round-bottomed and only one person wide. Baskets had to be placed precisely to preserve balance; human comfort was never part of the calculation.
A specimen label fixes 3 June to this place. The older Kalabakang and modern Kalabakan identify the same river mouth, where coastal travel gave way to an inland river network.
“Most of the time we crouched in the bottom, folded among the luggage … sitting in the water that forever wetted the boat.”
New rendering from the 2016 Chinese edition
Tiagau River
1938.06.06—06.09
Rain arrived almost every afternoon. Agnes compared herself, waiting to be lifted from the perahu into camp, to a porcelain goddess being unpacked and set upon a stand. Dry clothes, hot coffee and dry socks could be enough to make the body function again.
At the rapids the men sometimes hauled the boat from shore while passengers climbed over wet rocks; Unggib even swam beside the perahu with his pipe still alight. Near Ulu Tiagau, water travel began to yield to walking.
“Camped at three. Torrential rain since noon. Too tired to write.”
New rendering from the 2016 Chinese edition
Upper Tiagau
Upper Tiagau
Puasa repeatedly warned of floodwater. The boat party travelled while turning that anxiety into rhythm and song: weather was not scenery here, but a force able to rewrite both route and schedule.
When the water rose, the men carried the tent, poles and a conspicuous blue umbrella above the surface. Once moving again, they met six long rapids in succession. The boatmen swam, shoved, hauled and poled through the eddies; after every rapid the party had to beach a perahu and empty it.
“The boat kept filling; after every rapid we had to push it ashore and empty it.”
New rendering from the 2016 Chinese edition
Hulu Biyudun River
1938.06.11—06.12
In the Biyudun valley the leeches ignored the comforting rule that they stayed below the knee. Checking skin, tending bites and managing clothing became work as practical as finding the route.
Sometimes the luggage went by boat while the travellers crossed the jungle. Agnes grew steadily more exhausted; falling into the mud produced something close to physical nausea. Listening to the rain at night, she understood Harry’s strength and her own vulnerability as burdens the marriage carried together.
“But however badly, I had come through … perhaps what I gained was more precious than a rubber girdle.”
New rendering from the 2016 Chinese edition
Middle Napagun — Kuala Napagun
1938.06.14—06.16
Leech bites kept bleeding, while clothes could not be dried in the rain. Agnes framed the journey as a struggle between intention and the body: the will continued, while feet slipped again and again on wet rock and mud.
After Middle Napagun, familiar names fade from modern maps. The party still followed the valleys towards Kuala Napagun; today the rivers and dated stops can recover only the broad direction of this crossing.
“traveling with the will of nature, rather than against it.” “与自然的意志同行，而非逆势而行。” Agnes Newton Keith · 1939
Kuamut River
After 18 June 1938
White water buried the narrow perahus in foam until the boats seemed to struggle in the river. At Kuala Kuamut the native chief greeted them ceremonially and offered the government office—normally a place for hearing disputes—as lodging. A recognisable jetty and settlement had finally returned.
On departure Agnes put on her last clean clothes, then stepped onto a loose plank and fell knee-deep into mud. Carrying that comic humiliation downstream, the narrow Kuamut soon opened into the broader Kinabatangan.
“After the majesty of the Kuamut, the lower Kinabatangan seemed hot, slow and muddy.”
New rendering from the 2016 Chinese edition
Kinabatangan River — Sulu Sea
Late June 1938
Floodwater disrupted the rendezvous: the launch expected at Bintasan had arrived three days earlier and left because no one knew how long it would have to wait. After borrowing shelter for the rainy night, they encountered a crocodile on a mudbank near Lamag, and the immediate river displaced thoughts of home once again.
At last Winki’s motor launch appeared, towing nine perahus in a line like a water buffalo’s tail. The boatmen raised their paddles and shouted as water ran down their clothes and laughing faces. Only when the Kinabatangan opened into the Sulu Sea did the sea truly carry them back to Sandakan.
“I had forgotten the peace and rest of the sea.” “我已经忘了海洋的宁静与安歇。” Agnes Newton Keith · 1939
The book’s world beyond the route
The Keiths’ crossing was only one thread in a landscape full of stories. Abai connects to the Johnsons’ 1935 film expedition; Semporna and Lahad Datu hold the east coast’s people and sea routes. Linidis pulls the 1938 journey back toward an 1890 killing magnified by colonial retaliation.
“It is a terrible story,” I said. Harry answered, “Yet it is because of stories like this that you and I can travel safely on the river today.”
New rendering from the 2016 Chinese edition
The Johnsons’ 1935 wildlife-filming camp—another expedition altogether.
An east-coast town where people and coastal stories in the book converge.
An east-coast reference point in the book’s map and coastal narrative.
The 1890 Walter Flint episode retold in the book: an echo from the past.
Map notes
01—13
Satellite imagery: Esri, Vantor, Earthstar Geographics, and the GIS User Community · Map rendering: MapLibre GL JS