I have often, in my excursions up and down the river, been followed in our small river boat by these reptiles, and generally the boat boys were the first to see the tiny conical roofs above their eyes--the only portion to be seen above the water--and as these move swiftly towards the boat, you conclude that you are being followed by a crocodile. The experience is not a pleasant one, although it is seldom that the reptile is powerful enough to upset a canoe capable of carrying six or seven people. The danger to the inhabitants of Sarawak lies in the fact that they go about from one house to another on the river-banks in very small canoes, which only hold one person. Sometimes the canoe is so small you can hardly see its wooden sides, and its solitary occupant appears as though he were sitting on the water, paddling himself along. Both men and women are very skilful in the management of any craft on the waters of these rivers, and despite the fact that crocodiles often with a swish of their tails knock the boats in the air, and seize the occupants as they fall back into the river, paddle in hand, the people seem quite indifferent to the risks they run in these small canoes. A great many years ago, before Kuching became as civilized as it is now, and when it had few steamers on the river, an enormous crocodile, some twenty feet in length, was the terror of the neighbourhood for three or four months during the north-east monsoon--the rainy season of the country. Our Malay quartermaster on board the _Heartsease_ was seized by this monster as he was leaving the Rajah’s yacht to go to his house, a few yards from the bank, in his little canoe. It was at night that the crocodile seized him, the canoe being found empty the next morning. Although no one had actually witnessed the calamity, it was certain the poor man had been taken by the monster. This was his first victim, but others followed in quick succession. The crocodile could be seen patrolling the river daily, but it is very difficult to catch or shoot such a creature. At length the Rajah, becoming anxious at the turn affairs were taking, issued a proclamation offering a handsome reward to any one who should succeed in catching the crocodile. This proclamation was made with as much importance as possible. The executioner, Subu, bearing the Sarawak flag, was given a large boat, manned by twenty paddles, painted in the Sarawak colours, and sent up and down the river reading the proclamation at the landing-stages of Malay houses. Looking from my window one morning, I saw the boat gaily decorated and looking very important on the river, with the yellow umbrella of office folded inside and the proclamation from the Rajah being read. A few yards behind the boat I imagined I could see, through my opera glasses, the water disturbed by some huge body following it. The natives had noticed this too, and it was absolutely proved that wherever the boat went up or down the river, the monster followed it,