We arrived to find the provisions nearly gone; they said the bears had found out our cache and destroyed everything, and the only provisions left were those we put into the garei. I could only divide a cupful of beans to each man, as the five had managed to consume thirty pounds of sago and forty-two pints of beans in the course of four days, and they confessed to have daily caught very fine fish. But what angered the men most was the signs of waste around, where, having only half finished a plate of sago, they had thrown the rest away. I saw some picking up the burnt pieces that had not been washed away by the rain. I asked why, according to their agreement, they had not come back to meet us, knowing that we had several sick men. They put the blame on each other: one man, a Javanese, had left his sick son with us, but he unfeelingly observed that he was old enough to look after himself; that son had given us more trouble than any one else, both in going and returning. I searched their baskets, and found that they had not only hidden some more beans, but had stolen some of my cloth, though I could not fix on the man. I determined to punish them, so told them to go back and fetch the things they had left in the forest; or, on my return, I would submit the case to the Sultan, whether they had not forfeited wages by their unfair abandonment of their sickly companions. They started off, but their cowardly hearts failed them, and before night they came back. The ravages of the bears were distressing. They destroyed a Deane’s pistol-case, tore open my box of books, and ruined them; reduced the cloth to shreds, and tumbled it into the mud, where the white ants afterwards finished the spoiling; opened the tin boxes containing the sugar and biscuits, and of course devoured them; so that I have nothing left but coffee and arrack. After Musa had cooked a meal, a very frugal one, he went off with a party to fetch the garei, hoping to find a little sago left, but was disappointed. In the evening caught a few fish, but they were not much among so many. About seven, a most satisfactory savour rose to my nostrils. I found that Ahtan, having discovered a jar of pork fat, was preparing some cakes. I divided them, but he said, “No; you, sir, have the larger body, therefore should have the larger share.” I am not much given to emotions, but I never felt so thankful as when, stretched in the old Kayan hut, I watched them preparing an evening meal, and thought of all the dangers we had gone through without a single accident. True, we had lost guns, and goods, and ruined instruments of some value; but what of that?--there was no one the worse for his exertions. What was hunger now we were so near home?