abandoned paddy lands, until masses of other weeds grow up and choke them. The plant possesses an excellent fibre, its fruit being bright green, small, and hard. The look of such deserted farms is exceedingly pathetic as they stretch along the banks of rivers or climb the sides of steep hills. Here and there are trees, once lofty and magnificent, partially turned to tinder, their charred trunks standing brown and shrivelled from out the green vegetation. Sometimes they become draped with parasites and creepers. I remember one such charred skeleton, over whose shrivelled remains the bright yellow blossoms of the allamanda flung a curtain of green and gold. As we proceeded up the river, I remember noticing men in boats fishing inside little creeks, who, I was told, were Sea Dyaks or Kanowits. These little creeks were barred across from bank to bank with bamboo palisades to prevent the egress of fish into the main river, for the streams had been poisoned with a root called tuba, a method of fishing prevalent all over Borneo. This root is pounded with pestles, its juice extracted, and thrown into the river at low tide, when the fishes become stupefied, and rise to the surface, so that the natives find no difficulty in netting or spearing them. These people were drawing up nets full of fish as we passed, but, as is their wont, when they saw the vessel and the Rajah’s flag flying at the main, they shouted to us, excitedly inquiring where we had come from and where we were going. I sat on the deck looking about me, and, as I thought, taking most things in, when apparently from out of nowhere a boat suddenly appeared full of Dyaks under our companion ladder, clamouring to be let in for a few words with the Rajah. The Rajah and Mr. Skelton (both of whom knew every one in the district), could distinguish whether the people were friends or enemies. When friends, the engine was stopped, the companion ladder let down, and the chiefs came solemnly on board, after our wire netting had been opened to allow them to enter. The chieftains’ followers remained where they were, their canoes drifting astern of our vessel, and were towed up the river while the chiefs held conversation with the Rajah. Before we got to the end of our journey, our ship was towing along a little flotilla of canoes filled with dusky warriors. A place called Ngmah was our destination, where was a Fort built on the top of a hill. We anchored beneath the hill for a night and then returned to Sibu. Our journey up river, against the freshet and tide, had taken us two days to accomplish; ten hours sufficed to float us back to our headquarters at Sibu. Then our usual life at Sibu began again for another fortnight--the breakfasts, the little bunches of flowers, and the walks at sunset round the settlement--when the Rajah went up river again. On this occasion he did not take me with him, but he left Mr. Skelton and Mr. Low to look after me in the Fort.