HABITS OP THE ORANG. 271 



pears, leads a secluded life, and passes its time chiefly on trees, 

 amidst the higher branches of which it constructs a rude plat- 

 form or seat of interwoven boughs and twigs, which from below 

 looks very like an overgrown rook's nest. On these lofty seats, 

 the old male Orangs sit listless and apathetic for hours together, 

 and when discovered they exhibit but little alarm, often staring 

 down upon the intruder for several minutes, and then moving 

 away to a short distance. The Orang is naturally sluggish and 

 indolent, and all its movements are characterized by great deli- 

 beration. When attacked, the animal climbs rapidly to the 

 higher branches of the loftiest tree near, breaking off quantities 

 of the smaller boughs, and casting them down vertically, appa- 

 rently for the purpose of frightening his pursuers. In one case, 

 Mr. Wallace tells us, a female Mias on a durian-tree kept up for at 

 least ten minutes a continuous shower of branches, and of the 

 heavy shelled fruits as large as thirty-two pounders, which most 

 effectually kept her pursuers clear of the tree she was on. The 

 old lady could be seen breaking them off and throwing them 

 down with every appearance of rage, uttering at intervals a loud 

 pumping grunt, and evidently meaning mischief. 



In making his way through the forest the Orang walks delibe- 

 rately along the branches in a semi-erect attitude, and coming to 

 a spot where the boughs of one of the adjoining trees intermingle, 

 he seizes the smaller twigs, and pulling them towards him, grasps 

 them together with those of the tree he is on, and thus forming 

 a kind of bridge, swings himself onward, and seizing hold of a 

 thick branch with his long arms, is in a moment walking along 

 to the opposite side of the tree. He never jumps or springs, or 

 even appears to hurry himself, and seldom proceeds much faster 

 than a man can follow, pushing his way through the the scrub 

 beneath. Owing to this circumstance, and to the abundance in 

 which they occur in their native forests, there is no great difficulty 

 in procuring specimens, when once a party is organized to hunt 

 them down. Mr. Wallace shot no leas than seventeen indi- 

 viduals during his recent stay in Borneo ; and in 1843 Sir 

 James Brooke shipped, at his own cost, no less than five living 

 specimens for the Zoological Society ; though, unfortunately, tho 

 object which he had in view in making his magnificent contribu- 

 tion was frustrated by the accidents of the voyage, the last of the 

 animals dying within sight of the shores of England. 



