We did not long continue admiring this extensive prospect; our thoughts referred to water and something to eat, so we commenced the descent, which was nearly as steep as yesterday’s ascent; but going down hill, though trying to the knees, does not take away the breath. We did not, however, reach a stream till nearly two, when we stopped for breakfast. Ahtan, smiling at the thought of a fowl, got the breakfast ready in a very short time. The men proposed that we should spend the night here, but I declined, insisting that we should reach the Limbang. It poured with rain, but it was necessary we should exert ourselves. I pushed on with Ahtan and two others. When I was gone, one of the men lay down in the path and burst out crying, saying he should never see his mother again; a companion threw himself down too, but the rest of the party followed me. These two I rather pitied, as this was their second day without rice; but they and their two friends were the most improvident of the lot. One day they began to cook without orders; the rice was just wetted, but they were told to move on, and not cook till we all stopped. They therefore wrapped up their breakfast, and moved on. Presently I saw a packet, and picking it up, found that they had thrown away the rice, saying it was too much trouble to carry it; another party, on its being handed to them, quickly appropriated it. Another day they cooked three times, throwing away what was left. It was disgusting to see such waste of food; but they suffered for it. At five p.m. I reached the main stream, and feared I should have to encamp without tents, as I could hear nothing of the party. One of the men volunteered to go back to search for them, and at sunset they were all collected. I know of no sounds more curious than those which are sometimes heard in the old forest. Last night we frequently noticed the cries of the Argus pheasant, both male and female. In the deep silence one is startled by the thrice-repeated “Tu-wau,” in a clear and sonorous tone, and that is the crow of the cock. The cry of the female is similar, but more quickly repeated; but both are very pleasing to hear. Occasionally, also, we could distinguish the clear and distinct note of the Jelatuk bird, which a stranger might mistake for the echo of a stroke from an axe.