UP THE MERASI RIVER 263 



was rather the other way, and this morning the prahus 

 were found to contain more paddlers than had been 

 agreed upon, and seven surplus men had to be put ashore. 

 On the river-banks at this time were noticeable trees bear- 

 ing small fruit of a yellowish-red colour, and which were 

 so numerous as to impart their hue to the whole tree. 

 Violent movements in the branches as we passed drew our 

 attention to monkeys, which had been gorging themselves 

 with fruit and scampered away on our approach. Birds, 

 naturally, like the fruit, and, strange to say, it is a great 

 favourite with fish, many kinds of which, chiefly large 

 ones such as the djelavat and salap, gather underneath 

 the trees in the season. On the Mahakam and the 

 Katingan this is an occasion for the Dayaks to catch 

 much fish with casting-net, spears, or hooks. The tree, 

 which in Malay is called crevaia, is not cut, and there is 

 no other known to the natives the fruit of which the fish 

 like to eat. Though not sweet, it is also appreciated by 

 the Dayaks. 



Another singular observation made on the Mahakam 

 was the effect of dry weather on the jungle. At one place, 

 where it covered hills rising from the river, the jungle, 

 including many big trees, looked dead. From what I 

 later learned about the burning of the peat in Sarawak, 

 where unusually dry weather may start fires which burn 

 for months, this was undoubtedly also the case here, but 

 it seems strange that in a country so humid as Borneo 

 the weather, although admittedly of little stability, may 

 become dry enough to destroy the woods in this manner. 



I had decided to pay another short visit to Long 



