see it. The "rabbit on the wall" does not do in Borneo, as there is
no animal it resembles. The boys had tops shaped something like
whipping-tops, but spun with a string.
The next morning we proceeded as before, but the river had become so
rapid and shallow and the boats were all so small, that though I had
nothing with me but a change of clothes, a gun, and a few cooking
utensils, two were required to take me on. The rock which appeared
here and there on the riverbank was an indurated clay-slate, sometimes
crystalline, and thrown up almost vertically. Right and left of us rose
isolated limestone mountains, their white precipices glistening in
the sun and contrasting beautifully with the luxuriant vegetation that
elsewhere clothed them. The river bed was a mass of pebbles, mostly
pure white quartz, but with abundance of jasper and agate, presenting a
beautifully variegated appearance. It was only ten in the morning when
we arrived at Budw, and, though there were plenty of people about, I
could not induce them to allow me to go on to the next village. The
Orang Kaya said that if I insisted on having men, of course he would get
them, but when I took him at his word and said I must have them, there
came a fresh remonstrance; and the idea of my going on that day seemed
so painful that I was obliged to submit. I therefore walked out over
the rice-fields, which are here very extensive, covering a number of the
little hills and valleys into which the whole country seems broken up,
and obtained a fine view of hills and mountains in every direction.
In the evening the Orang Kaya came in full dress (a spangled velvet
jacket, but no trousers), and invited me over to his house, where he
gave me a seat of honour under a canopy of white calico and coloured
handkerchiefs. The great verandah was crowded with people, and large
plates of rice with cooked and fresh eggs were placed on the ground as
presents for me. A very old man then dressed himself in bright-coloured
cloths and many ornaments, and sitting at the door, murmured a long
prayer or invocation, sprinkling rice from a basin he held in his hand,
while several large gongs were loudly beaten and a salute of muskets
fired off. A large jar of rice wine, very sour but with an agreeable
flavour, was then handed around, and I asked to see some of their
dances. These were, like most savage performances, very dull and
ungraceful affairs; the men dressing themselves absurdly like women, and
the girls making themselves as stiff and ridiculous as possible. All the
time six or eight large Chinese gongs were being beaten by the vigorous
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