The Lingga Dayaks, besides Batara, have various good spirits--as Stampandei, who superintends the propagation of mankind; Pulang Ganah, who inhabits the earth and gives fertility to it, and to him are addressed the offerings at the feasts given whilst preparing the rice cultivation; Singallong Burong, the god of war, excites their utmost reverence, and to him are offered the head feasts. On those occasions, he comes down and hovers in the form of a kite over the house, and guns are fired and gongs are beaten in his honour: his brave followers married to his daughters appear in the form of their omen birds. No wonder he is honoured: he gives success in war, and delights in their acquisition of the heads of their enemies. Nattiang inhabits the summits of the hills, and is one of their demigods. The Linggas tell many stories of his exploits: the most famous was his expedition to the skies to recover his wife, who had been caught in a noose and hoisted up there by his old enemy, Apei Sabit Berkait. To dream of him is to receive the gift of bravery. Mr. Chambers would add much to our knowledge of these people if he would make a collection of their stories and ballads. Among the Sakarangs the belief in one Supreme Being is clear, and they do not appear to have any inferior deities who approach him in attributes: they have demigods, good and bad spirits, but no sharer of God’s throne. They believe that the good and bad spirits have the power to prevent, or to enable them to succeed in any object they may have in view. They, therefore, make offerings to them, particularly when any of their family are suffering from illness. When the small-pox was committing sad havoc among those villagers who would not allow themselves to be inoculated, they ran into the jungle in every direction, caring for no one but themselves, leaving the houses empty, and dwelling far away in the most silent spots, in parties of two and three, and sheltered only by a few leaves. When these calamities come upon them, they utterly lose all command over themselves, and become as most timid children. Those seized with the complaint are abandoned: all they do is to take care that a bundle of firewood, a cooking-pot, and some rice, are placed within their reach. On account of this practice, few recover, as in the delirium they roll on the ground and die. When the fugitives become short of provisions, a few of the old men who have already had the complaint creep back to the houses at night and take a supply of rice. In the daytime they do not dare to stir or to speak above a whisper for fear the spirits should see or hear them. They do not call the small-pox by its name, but are in the habit of saying, “Has he yet left you?” at other times, they call it jungle leaves or fruit; and at other places the datu or the chief. Those tribes who inoculate suffer very little.