Shortly after again starting, I observed a commotion among the guides, and was told that the new man and Si Nuri, his brother-in-law, wanted us to take a roundabout way, to avoid a country swarming, they said, with enemies, who would shoot at us from the jungle. This would entail the loss of another day, and the climbing of an extra high mountain. We preferred the enemies to the extra work, as our food will be all finished to-morrow; so the two guides left us, and one of the remaining Adang men undertook to find a road. It struck me afterwards that it was merely a dispute about whose house we should go to first. The Orang Kaya Upit and four followers wanted naturally to go to their relatives, while Si Nuri was anxious to get as quickly as possible to see his wife and relations; but as he could speak little Malay, I did not understand his explanation. Our new guide, turning north for a short time, soon brought us to the Ropo, a branch of the Limbang, which is, perhaps, a third less than the main stream. From thence we continued our course north, climbing up a steep mountain, about 2,500 feet in height; then turning to the north-east, we continued that course till 4.10 p.m., when we reached the Bapangal stream. Including all stoppages and petty rests, we walked about six hours and a half, and made about eight miles. From near the summit of the high hill we had a view of some fresh clearings which appeared about seven miles off in a north-east direction. The villages are said to be on the other side of the clearings, beyond a low hill. As we must have approached these farms three miles, we cannot have more than eight miles of walking before us; at all events, I shall do my utmost to reach the houses to-morrow night, whether the men follow or not, as after the biscuit division last night I have only rice for to-morrow, coffee, and the remains of a bad China ham. Just as we were crossing the Ropo, an animal slipt quietly into the water, which I think was an otter. A few days before leaving my house, I was witness of a desperate fight between my dogs and a very fierce female otter. They had surrounded a pool, and kept her in it, but as it was very shallow a dog would dash in and make a snap at her; at last she seized one by the nose, and would not let go; the dog, a very small English terrier, did not utter a cry, but struggled towards the bank, when the whole pack fell upon the enemy, and tore it to pieces. Yet in death, it did not let go its hold, and to free the dog’s nose its jaws had to be forced open with a spear-head. (Resting-place 1,300 feet.)