Started before sunrise; the stream continues much the same. At first there were more open glades, with rich soft-looking grass like our English meadows; traces of wild cattle and deer were constantly to be observed. The river was seldom over four hundred yards in breadth, but never less than two; the soundings changed from three fathoms to no bottom with the usual line, but this great variation was caused by our not always being able to keep in the deepest part of the stream. A glance at the map will show how very abrupt are the turnings, and how the stream doubles on itself, rendering it a very difficult matter to steer. Occasionally the current would catch the bow of the steamer, and force it on the shore; but immediately the stern felt the same force, it was pressed also towards the bank, and the stem again would point up stream. It was at last found the easiest and safest way to turn the sharp points. To-day we steamed by several Malay trading prahus pulling up the stream, and observed one enormous Tapang tree that rose close to the water’s edge. Early in the afternoon we passed the embouchure of the Tingjir on the left bank; it was about a third of the size of the Baram, and is said to be shallow: it is well inhabited by a tribe of people called Sububs, with whom the Kayans are interspersed. A couple of hours after, we reached the Tutu on the right bank; up this the Kayans proceed when intent on a foray in the Upper Limbang country. Saw the first Kayans near this spot. Two canoes were coming down the river; directly they perceived the moving monster approaching, they turned and fled; but as they found we were overtaking them, they deserted their canoes and dashed ashore. Three, however, remained at the edge of the jungle, and we reassured them by waving our handkerchiefs. It was a pardonable fear, they had never before seen anything larger than their own war boats. They looked very much like the Kanowit Dayaks before described. We had one fine view of the peak of Molu and of its surrounding ranges; occasionally the banks are becoming steep. Anchored after sunset, above one hundred miles from the mouth; we are now far beyond the influence of the tides, yet the current averaged but a mile and a half. Again started before sunrise; the river continued its winding course with a few patches of greensward; our guides say there are no more wild cattle, but many deer in this neighbourhood. We passed the sites of numerous deserted plantations and of a few new ones: we startled the people at a farmhouse by running our bowsprit into their verandah: no wonder the women and children fled shrieking to the jungle.