EXPEDITION TO THE KATINGAN RIVER 323 



voices. However insignificant the stream, they yelled 

 as if passing a risky place. Sunset came and still the 

 kampong was — djau (far). Mr. Loing had gone in our 

 small prahu with four of our best men to finish the map- 

 making, if possible, before darkness set in. 



The light of day faded, though not so quickly as the 

 books represent, but soon it was as dark as possible before 

 the appearance of the waning moon which would not be 

 visible for several hours. I had let Mr. Loing have my 

 lamp, so I lit a candle. It was not a pleasant experience, 

 with clumsy stupid men who, however, did their best, 

 all finally taking to the water, wading and pushing the 

 boat, constantly emitting loud, hoarse cries to encourage 

 themselves; and thus we progressed little by little. What 

 with the faint light of the candle, the constant rush of 

 water, and the noise of the rapids, though not dangerous 

 in the day time, the situation demanded calmness. More- 

 over, there was the possibility of an overflow of the river, 

 which often happens, caused by rains above. I thought 

 of the Kenyahs of the Bulungan — if I only had them now. 

 After an hour and a half of this exasperating sort of prog- 

 ress we came to smooth water, but even here the men 

 lost time by running into snags which they ought to have 

 seen, because I had gotten my hurricane lamp from Mr. 

 Loing whom we had overtaken. One of the men was 

 holding it high up in the bow, like the Statue of Liberty 

 in New York harbour. 



There were only three or four houses at the kampong 

 where we arrived at nine o'clock, but people kindly per- 

 mitted us to occupy the largest. The men were allowed 



