Next morning we returned to the houses by the same path, and rested on the summit of the hill overlooking the village. Here we sat for some time, making inquiries about the great lake. They speak of it as undoubtedly existing, saying we could reach it in three days. One who had traded with the villages on its banks asserted that standing on the beach, he could not see the opposite side. The first village on the road is Tuhan, and the next Inserban: they all call the lake Ranau, a corruption of the Malay Danau. We could scarcely make any connected inquiries, on account of the indifference or stupidity of our interpreter; but seriously discussed the possibility of our being able to combine the two journeys, but found our means insufficient. With our party we should have taken a long time, particularly as the villagers refused to furnish us with guides until their rice-planting was over. We noticed the great change that had taken place in the ways and tastes of these people. When Mr. Low was here in 1851, beads and brass wire were very much sought after. When we came last April, the people cared nothing for beads, and very little for cloth; their hearts were set on brass wire. We, however, distributed a good deal of cloth, at reasonable rates, in exchange for food and services rendered. We now found that even brass wire, except of a very large size, was despised, and cloth eagerly desired. Chawats were decreasing, and trousers coming in. This is a taste very likely to continue, as the weather at Kiau is generally very cool, and it might also stimulate their industry. At present, although they keep their plantations very clean, they use no instrument to turn up the soil, merely putting the seed in a hole made by a pointed stick. In size, their kiladis, sweet potatoes, and rice are very inferior and their crops scanty, though the flavour of their productions is excellent, but with their tobacco they appear to take much pains. Thinking that potatoes might flourish here, Mr. Low, in 1856, sent some by Mr. Lobb to be given to the villagers to plant; next morning, however, he found the little boys playing marbles with them. Even the more civilized Javanese cared little for the seeds of European vegetables which were distributed freely by the Dutch Government. It at last struck some shrewd officer that if the natives saw the results of cultivating these vegetables, they might be induced to turn their attention to them. He therefore obtained permission to establish a model garden, and the result was satisfactory. The Javanese, who had despised the seeds, could not overlook the profit to be derived from the sale of the crops of potatoes, cabbages, and other esculents, displayed for their imitation, and were then grateful for seeds. Nothing but some such scheme will ever induce the Dayaks to alter their present slovenly system of cultivation.