They have a kind of reverence regarding it: they decorate the heads of enemies taken in battle with its spiky blossoms, for they imagine that by so doing they will prevent the curses uttered by the victims in the next world from falling on their heads. They plant its roots round their houses, so that whenever one sees these flowers on the banks, it generally denotes that once the land was occupied by Sea Dyaks. No one is allowed to cut the flower or injure it in any way, for it is only used for sacred purposes or during head-feasts. When I first saw the flowers they were growing amongst the lalang grass, and looked like great coral chandeliers set in a background of malachite. They are called by the Dyaks “Pemula Sumpah.” Then, we passed several tributary streams famous in Sarawak history for the many expeditions the Rajah and his officers have led there, for this district was formally the haunt of the most redoubtable head-hunters. Like all the rivers of Borneo the Rejang forms a succession of cataracts near its source, and behind these it was easy for the Dyaks to imagine themselves safe to indulge in their favourite pastime of head-hunting. We had been steaming for hours, when late in the afternoon we passed Kanowit on the left-hand bank of the river. It was at this spot, in 1859, that Messrs. Fox and Steele, two of the first white Rajah’s officers, were murdered through the disaffection of a few natives, and at the instigation of Serip Masahor, one of the very few traitors in Sarawak history. This man ended his days in exile at Singapore. We now came to a series of little hills shelving into the water. The formation of these hills is somewhat peculiar: they are regular in outline and, all being of the same height and wooded with jungle growth, with a few ancient forest trees at their summit, it would seem as though a straight line might be drawn all along their tops, each hill touching the line at its highest point. They rise to a height of 750 feet. There was a kind of brushwood growing on the hills whenever farming had been of recent date, and groves of wild bananas grew here and there. I think the long fronds of the banana plant are amongst the loveliest growing things one can see. When the plants find a sheltered position, unmolested by gales of wind, their long leaves are tinted with the most wonderful colours, as though emeralds and sapphires had been melted together and poured over them; moreover, a certain bloom rests on them, like that seen on grapes and plums. I think this beautiful effect depends on the light in which the plants are growing, for I have noticed the same bloom spread over ferns growing in dells and shady nooks of virgin forests. It might be as well to mention that Malays often use banana fronds to bind up wounds; their coolness, softness, and purity possessing healing properties absent from ordinary poultices. These wild bananas thrive luxuriantly on recently