NOETH BOENEO. 
55 
for existence in these forests is so severe that unless birds nest in impregnable strongholds 
or hide amongst the masses of forest-drift, they must leave and seek positions in more open 
localities which are not frequented by their enemies. 
Butterflies, with the exception of a few strong-smelling and distasteful species, more espe¬ 
cially the Euplceas, are scarce—unless some attractive spot be found, such as a flowering tree, 
or the offal near native houses, when numbers of the stronger-flying species, such as the 
Papilios , congregate together. Many of the smaller species, such as the Narathurce, seldom 
fly unless disturbed, passing most of the day amongst the leaves of the low trees which border 
the forest-paths; others, again, are crepuscular, such as many of the Morphince, remaining 
motionless with closed wings all day amongst the leaves on the ground or near it; so splendidly 
does the underside of their wings imitate the leaves they settle amongst, that on so doing they 
vanish, only to be seen again when your approach is sufficiently dangerous to cause them to 
take wing (see illustration, p. 50). The enemies of butterflies are very numerous—birds, 
reptiles, and more especially insects, which destroy their larvae and pupae; mason-wasps, ich¬ 
neumon flies, ants, and spiders are continually carrying off or laying eggs in their defenceless 
grubs. Every living creature must have food, and that is obtained by the loss of life to 
organisms weaker than itself. Only consider, reader, the ever-waging war that is thus being 
carried on, and it will be easy to understand that unless a species has some special habit or 
peculiar form by which it escapes observation, or is armed with some weapon wherewith to 
fight the great battle of life, it must soon cease to exist. This we are told is the “ Balance 
of Nature,” or, by more enlightened thinkers, the “ Survival of the Fittest,” or that those 
species which cannot help themselves must soon disappear, be they fish, flesh, or fowl. 
That most interesting subject of protection afforded by mimicry of colour and pattern 
of certain defenceless species to distasteful or dangerous species, known as “ Protective 
Kesemblance,” we will discuss later on. 
To return once more to our everyday life on the Benkoker Biver. On the 22nd October 
two of my servants were confined to the house with bad attacks of fever; the wet season— 
having commenced—being probably the cause of this. My followers always suffered from 
fever on changing to a fresh locality, but soon recovered and were not afterwards troubled; 
I myself did not suffer from this disagreeable complaint until my return to Labuan. In 
November it poured with rain at intervals during the day, accompanied by terrific thunder¬ 
storms. When we used to be caught in the forest in one of these downpours I found it 
better to take my clothes off and put them in a waterproof bag until the rain was over. 
When walking through a forest in the costume of the aborigines, it was curious to me how 
seldom I got pricked or hurt by the many thorns which beset my path, for often my clothes 
have been torn to pieces in these paths by the rattan tendrils. 
On the loth October I was called in by some Orang Sungei to visit a dying child; it 
was, as is customary in this country, in a crowded house of smoking and “ sirih ’’-chewing- 
natives, the last place in the world to aid recovery, and was so near death that it died a 
few hours afterwards : the little sufferer was bedaubed with chalk spots and crosses, and the 
gong-beating in the evening told us of its departure to the Orang Sungei spirit-world. 
Our relations with the natives, both Dusun and Orang Sungei, were most friendly; often 
in the evenings my boys would be invited to attend some vocal entertainment; as gongs 
and tom-toms formed no part of these concerts the singing was rather pleasant. Sometimes 
