The same naturalist terms the orang’s gait on all fours laborious and unsteady. If chased, he runs faster than a man, but is soon overtaken. The very long arms, which are only slightly bent in running, raise the body in a remarkable way, so that the orang almost assumes the position of a very old man, bowed by age, who supports himself with a stick. When walking, this ape places the closed fingers, or rarely the open palm, of the hands upon the ground. The toes of the feet are also curved inwards, so that the outer edge of the foot is turned downwards. More rarely the toes are completely closed, or the whole of the sole of the foot serves as the support. The use of the outer edge of the foot in walking, as Huxley justly observes, is such as to bring the heel more upon the ground, while the curved toes partly touch the ground with the upper surface of their first phalanges, and the surface of the outermost toes of each foot rest altogether on the ground. Wallace says that the orang seldom comes down upon the ground, and indeed only when he is driven by hunger to seek for the juicy young shoots on the banks of rivers, or when in very dry weather he goes down to the water, of which he generally finds a sufficient supply in the hollow of leaves. This traveller on only one occasion saw two half-grown orangs on the ground in a dry hole at the foot of the Simunjon hills. They were at play together, standing upright and alternately seizing each other by the arms. This observer also considers that the orang is only able to stand upright when he has some support for his hands, or when he is attacked. Like other anthropoids in a state of nature, when the orang drinks, he crouches down to the water’s edge and sucks in the liquid with his lips. Occasionally, also, he draws water in the palm of his hand, and gulps or licks it off; at any rate, he does this when in captivity. In an old number of the _Penny Magazine_ there is a woodcut of an orang which is very true to nature, in which he is represented as squatting down by the water, washing his hands, and this is really his habit. Müller and Schlegel[116] state that the adult males live alone except during the pairing season. Aged females and young males are often seen together in parties of two or three, and the mothers generally keep their young with them. Pregnant females generally live apart, and continue to do so for a good while after the birth has taken place. The young, which are slow in coming to maturity, live long under the protection of their mother, who, when she is climbing, carries her little ones in her bosom, while they cling to her long, shaggy hair. It is not yet ascertained at what age the orang becomes capable of propagating his species, nor how long the females continue to bring forth young.