_6th._--The expected fresh came on about one a.m.; and as it has rained all the morning, the water will increase for many hours yet. There is very good protection where we have secured our boats, though the river has risen six feet since yesterday, and is now running like a mill-sluice. We have met with so many obstructions and delays from these freshes, that I begin to fear we shall not accomplish the object of our expedition. I shall persevere until we have only three days’ provisions left. Food is the only difficulty, otherwise I would spend three months in trying to reach the Adang Muruts. The rocks near our encampment are both limestone and sandstone, the latter uppermost; their dip is east, angle 82°. There appears to be too much disturbance of rocks here to render any observations of much value, either with regard to the stratification or the angle; the rocks are constantly laminated. My men are employed in making towing-ropes of twisted rattans; the one for the garei is strong enough to hold a schooner, but we may want them in the bad rapids. Yesterday we trembled once or twice, fearing our tow-ropes would part. At 4 p.m.--The river has not fallen more than two and a half feet since I marked it at nine a.m. If it rain to-night, we shall lose another day. It is a cold evening; the gusts of wind occasionally driving the drizzly rain before it; so I have asked the Muruts to come and have a glass of whiskey with me. We have had a couple of hours’ talk, and they have told me innumerable anecdotes of their own lives. Orang Kaya Upit mentioned an event which occurred to himself not many years ago. His father and mother-in-law were invited to a feast by the Orang Kaya Apo: there was great drinking, and at night most of the drunken guests slept in the house. After some hours, Apo got up and killed Upit’s two relations in their sleep; perhaps, in revenge of some old injury. Upit immediately brought his complaint to the Sultan, but no attention was paid to him. At last one of the men about the court said, “Why don’t you revenge yourself?” The Sultan laughed, and repeated, “Ah, why don’t you?” Upit upon this went home and prepared his arms, and for two years lay in wait in all sorts of places, but he could never find Apo off his guard. One day, however, he met him in the Trusan river, returning from the Sultan’s palace, and shot him through the body, and took his head. Upon this, the Sultan fined him a hundred pikuls of brass guns (3,000 dols.), not for killing Apo, but for disrespect to him in shooting a man who had lately left his palace, though the deed took place twenty miles away. Upit, by great exertions, and by the assistance of all the neighbouring villages, paid a portion of the fine. It is an illustration of Bornean government.