I do enjoy this exploration of new countries. I especially enjoy an evening such as this. It is a fine star-light night; we have pitched our tents on a broad pebbly flat, and the men have collected a great pile of wood, with which to keep up a cheerful fire. Most of us are sitting round it, and that everlasting subject of discussion arises--how far are the Kayans off. The hut to-day appeared as if very lately used, but if we are to be attacked, I hope it will be in the day-time. The conversation was beginning to flag, when suddenly we heard a bird utter three cries to our right. “Ah,” cried Japer, “that is a good sign,” and instantly reverted to head-hunting and omens. I will here introduce a story illustrative of the practice. Its cool atrocity always makes my heart sick. Japer told it in illustration of various omens. I will try and relate it in his own words, whilst they are still ringing in my ears. “I am acquainted with all the different birds and animals in which the Pakatans have faith. Do you hear that grasshopper,--it is on the right, and is a sign of good fortune. Were there three or four sounding together, we should instantly leave our hut, at whatever time of night, and seek a new resting-place, or we should suffer for it. When the bird of omen flies over us from the quarter whence we have just arrived, it is a good sign; the bird tells us to advance. If he flew from the quarter whence we were going, we should return to our last night’s resting-place, whatever might be the distance. You know that bird which has three cries? When it sounds to the right it is good luck; and also when to the left, if very near an enemy, it rejoices to give them to us as a prey. When it cries, 'Trik, trik,’ it is death to those that advance. “I will tell you what has happened to me since I have entered El Islam. Two of my grand-children died of sickness. How was I to lose the soreness of heart occasioned by this event? I determined to go head-hunting. I sent a hundred of my tribe up the Rejang, and started myself with seventy to Bintulu. There the Orang Kaya Pamancha came to me and said, 'You are going to kill some of my people.’ 'No; I am not,’ I answered. 'Well,’ he said, 'there is a tribe of Punans living near Bukit Lambir, who owe me for goods, which they have had for some time. They sell their camphor and their wax to others, not to me. Go and attack them; there are only thirty males. But don’t forget me when you divide the women and children.’