We landed in the midst of mud and fallen trees. Narrow planks of wood, raised on trestles, led us through a morass to the figure. It rests under a roof of iron-wood shingles, erected by the Rajah’s orders to protect the carving from the effects of the weather. The carved figure is about life-size, and apparently represents a naked woman flung face downwards, with arms and legs extended, clinging to the surface of the rock; a knot of hair stands some inches from her head, and all round the figure the stone is weather-beaten and worn. Lower down, on the right of the larger carving, Bertram and I discovered the outline of a smaller figure in the same position. A triangular mark, with three loops on its upper bar, is to be seen near by on the stone, looking like the head of an animal rudely scratched. The natives of Santubong have turned the place into a sort of shrine for pilgrimage. Hadji Ahmad told me that the men and women of his village imagine the figure to have been that of a real woman, given to torturing animals for her amusement, and turned to stone by an avenging Deity. The people of Sarawak, at least all those with whom I have come in contact, are under the impression that anyone guilty of injuring, ill-treating, or laughing at animals is liable to be turned into stone by an offended god, and nearly all the stones or rocks to be met with in the beds of rivers, and elsewhere, are thought by the people to be the remnants of a human race, guilty of such crimes. They call these stones Batu Kudi (the stones of curses), but how these legends took root and became so firmly implanted in the minds of Sarawak people remains a mystery to this day.