388 TWO TEAKS IN THE JUNGLE. 



Learning that we were interested in animals, our host exhibited 

 a water-snake about four feet in length, which he had caught in the 

 river that afternoon, and intended to eat. He said it was a clean 

 snake, because it hved on fish. Ah Kee expressed some surprise 

 and incredulity at his intention, whereupon the Dyak immediately 

 pi'oceeded to roast the sei-pent on the fire and strip off the skin, 

 preparatory to making a snake curr}'. He said that his people eat 

 large lizards also. 



As soon as the rain ceased we proceeded, but before long it 

 began anew, so we tied up at the first Dyak village we came to, 

 and made ourselves comfortable until morning. 



The next day was beautifully clear and balmy, of the kind which 

 makes mere existence a delight. We paddled up stream in high 

 spirits, shooting a monkey now and then, halting at noon for a 

 good square meal on a fine bit of dry ground, left so by the greatly 

 lowered waters of the stream. Wlien it came time to eat, my 

 stomach was empty and craved supplies ; but it utterly refused Ah 

 Kee's oft-repeated stewed duck, rice, and yams. My appetite called 

 for a new deal, and Ah Kee responded with a tin of "biscuits" 

 (crackers), another of American pressed beef, and a can of dehcious 

 cherries, all from San Francisco. How appetizing was that ration 

 of home-grown beef and fruit ! 



The water in the river was about three feet lower than we had 

 before found it, and dry ground was noticed in several places. 

 Just before sunset we became involved in a chase after a big troop 

 of proboscis monkeys, which consumed considerable time and left 

 us wet, tired, and bafSed, Then darkness fell and it began to rain. 

 We were four miles from the Popook village and with a labyrinth 

 of screw pines to go through in the dark, but we were in no condi- 

 tion to remain all night where we were. The two Malays who 

 paddled Eng Quee's boat announced their determination to stay 

 where they were until morning, so I got into my own boat, and 

 told my boys we would go on. The Malays declared it was impos- 

 sible to go through the screw pines in the dark, but we left them 

 to their own devices and proceeded. 



I think I never saw a blacker night. It rained steadily, though 

 not in ton-ents, and the lightning aided us very effectively. My Httle 

 Malay man Dobah did the steering. Ah Kee and Perara sat under 

 the kadjangs and paddled, while I sat in the bow, paddling also, 

 and acted as a pilot. How we ever found the entrance to that 

 blind passage through the pines will always be a mystery to me. 



