THE "NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



151 



As we passed a conspicuous tree on the 

 bank, Tama Saging remarked that, after 

 paddling a whole hour, we should again 

 pass the same tree, but his people had 

 never tried to cut a canal through the 

 narrow neck of land because the ground 

 was too difficult. 



DISCUSSING CANAL-BUILDING WITH A 

 KAYAN CHIEF 



The Suez Canal was an old story for 

 Tama Saging, but having heard nothing 

 of the Panama Canal, he was much in- 

 terested at the idea of cutting down a 

 mountain that ships might pass. When 

 I told him that the Frenchmen had tried 

 to build the canal, but were forced to give 

 it up because so many men became sick 

 and died, he exclaimed : 



"Ah, yes; very true, Tuan Sebub 

 hantu" (because of the spirits). Of 

 course, one can't go to digging up the 

 jungle without getting into trouble with 

 the spirits. 



After all, it is only a few years since 

 we could have given no more useful ex- 

 planation. 



For three days we continued up stream, 

 passing from the Tutau into the Milanau 

 River, reaching on the second day the 

 first of the rapids, where the water came 

 rippling clear and cool over the gravel 

 beds — a great relief from the muddy 

 stream of the lower reaches — while each 

 bend of the river gave some new view 

 of the beautiful mountains or luxuriant 

 jungle. 



Coming to the mouth of a little stream, 

 we took seven fine fish from a weir made 

 by driving bamboo stakes into the bed of 

 the watercourse. Later, one of the men 

 saw a large turtle, over two feet long, 

 dart into a hole under the bank, where 

 it apparently made up its mind to stay, 

 for no amount of prodding with spears 

 would induce it to come out. 



There followed a scene of great ex- 

 citement, everybody telling everybody 

 else how to get that turtle out, until 

 Tama Saging in desperation finally went 

 part way into the hole himself, pulling 

 the turtle out after him, but not until one 

 of his fingers had been badly bitten. 



The Milanau River in its upper reaches 

 is the most beautiful stream I have ever 

 seen. At one point the limestone cliff 



rises vertical from the water's edge, deco- 

 rated with fantastic stalagmites and every 

 little crevice filled with delicate ferns. At 

 another point, where great trees cast per- 

 petual gloom on the sluggish waters of 

 the stream, one sees, half concealed by 

 vines and ferns, the entrance to the un- 

 explored recesses of a cave in the lime- 

 stone mountain. The natives call it the 

 lobong angin, or wind cave, from the 

 chilling current of air that usually issues 

 from it. 



When the river is low, it is pleasant to 

 camp on a gravel bed in the river bottom, 

 where the stream broadens out and falls 

 noisily over the shingle, for the mos- 

 quitoes and other insects are not so bad 

 as in the jungle ; but one always runs the 

 risk that he will be awakened by the ris- 

 ing waters to find boats and goods being 

 swept off down stream. 



nature's beauties unappreciated 



One evening, while sitting out on the 

 gravel watching the sunset and listening 

 to the sounds of the jungle and of the 

 river, I was joined by Migi, the pleasant 

 Dayak boy, who wanted to know why the 

 Tuan every evening sat looking into the 

 sky. As he probably expected to get use- 

 ful points on my method of observing the 

 omens from the bats and hawks circling 

 in the heavens, he was much disappointed 

 when I replied that I like to watch the 

 clouds at sunset ; they are so beautiful — 

 red and yellow and green. 



He couldn't see the sense of that,, pro- 

 testing: "They are just the same every 

 night." Then, with friendly interest, he 

 questioned me about my home and coun- 

 try and the names of some of my friends, 

 which he repeated very comically after 

 me. 



Our last camp on the Milanau was, in- 

 deed, a lovely spot, where a small stream 

 joined the river, forming a delightful 

 bathing pool of cool, transparent water. 

 Great ferns grew about the camp, a 

 splendid tree rose on the opposite bank, 

 breaking into a ball of feathery foliage ; 

 beautiful birds flew over the stream and 

 gorgeous butterflies seemed to fill the air. 



Rajah Brooke's game laws are a model 

 for all other countries. Since there are 

 no destructive animals (except croco- 

 diles, upon which a bounty is paid), all 



