TUBA FISHING. 251 



milky juice ran out, and trickled down the side of 

 the boat into the water at its bottom. While he 

 pounded the root, he sprinkled it from time to time 

 with an occasional splash of water from the river. 

 Eound each of the ten boats as many Malays as 

 could find a place collected, each bang-bang-banging 

 away at a piece of root : those that could find a foot- 

 hold on the narrow lines of the gunwales perched 

 there happily, whilst the others stood contentedly 

 in the river, despite its coldness. Above the din 

 of the pounding bludgeons rose the babble of voices 

 and laughter. 



A wag of a boatman of mine began telling stories 

 some of them about Sir Peace of the Forest, the little 

 mouse-deer that by his cleverness became ruler over 

 all the other animals, and some of them about the 

 choleric captain of a local coasting-steamer; and all 

 told with a wealth of happy imagination and happier 

 mimicry that convulsed his audience into apoplectic 

 choking. 



When proceedings were in full swing, Ahman sud- 

 denly pounced on a luckless youngster. 



"Here is a useful man. Before his root is half 

 pounded he throws it away. How many boat-loads 

 of root shall we require to satisfy this spendthrift 

 of other people's property?" 



The poor youth was covered with confusion ; but 

 soon attention was turned from him by Ahman catch- 

 ing a man throwing a worn-out piece of root into the 

 river, instead of carefully depositing it out of harm's 

 way upon the bank. 



" Allah ! the pride of some men. Itam will not 



