156 IN MALAY FORESTS. 



majority had only the barest notion of how it should 

 be done. And of course every one of them knew that, 

 judged by Malay standards of casting, he was making 

 an exhibition of himself. The first net thrown fell 

 with but a half-open spread, but a chorus of approba- 

 tion went up and down the line. The second man's 

 net hurtled into the air like a bag of buckshot let 

 loose from a sling, and plopped into the water in a 

 solid lump. The thrower was greeted by a volley of 

 chaff from the other men, who feared that they would 

 do no better, but the Malays, who made a perfect 

 spread at every cast, had only encouragement for 

 him. And the old Malay who was steering his dug- 

 out leant forward and said, "The flower is not yet 

 full blown; but time may bring the bud into open 

 blossom." 



In contrast with the efforts of the Englishmen, 

 watch the Malay. He uses the ordinary bell-shaped 

 casting-net which a few years ago might be seen on 

 any English river, and with which I presume most 

 people are acquainted. His net is sixteen feet high 

 from the summit of the bell to its foot, and the leaden 

 ring of chains at its base has a circumference when at 

 its full spread of nearly forty feet. He collects the 

 whole of the upper part of the net into his right hand, 

 holding it about two and a half feet above the leaden 

 chains. He then raises it, shakes out any dead leaves 

 it may have caught, and straightens the lines of the 

 net until they all hang true. He disposes one-third 

 on his right arm so that it covers his forearm and 

 extends a little over the crook of the elbow which 

 keeps it in position; one-third he takes in his right 



