AT HOANG TSHIRAO 281 



tractive and has two rooms. One was occupied by an 

 Austrian doctor in the Dutch military service, who was 

 on his way to Long Nawang, while I appropriated the 

 other. He was enthusiastic over the superb muscles of 

 the Kenyahs who had just arrived and were camping in 

 a house built for such occasions on top of a small hill a 

 short distance away. Cows, brown in colour, were graz- 

 ing in a large field near by, and I enjoyed the unusual 

 luxury of fresh milk — five small bottles a day. After I 

 had bathed and put on clean garments, even though my 

 linen-mesh underclothing was full of holes, I felt content 

 in the peaceful atmosphere. 



The doctor of Long Iram, who had been here one 

 year, told me that no case of primary malaria had come 

 to his notice. What the Malays call demum is not the 

 genuine malaria, but probably due to the merotu, a 

 troublesome little black fly. One of his predecessors had 

 collected 1,000 mosquitoes, out of which number only 60 

 were anopheles. There was framboisia here, for which 

 the natives use their own remedies. The temperature at 

 the warmest time of the day is from 90 to 95 Fahren- 

 heit; at night, 75 to 8o°. There is much humidity, but 

 we agreed that the climate of Borneo, especially in the 

 interior, is agreeable. 



It was extraordinary how everything I had brought 

 on this expedition was just finished. The day before I 

 had had my last tin of provisions; the milk was gone ex- 

 cept ten tins, which would carry me through to Samarinda, 

 a four days' journey; the candles were all used; the sup- 

 ply of jam exhausted; tooth-brushes no longer service- 



