A large number of chiefs assembled in the great hall of the Fort, where were stacked the rifles and arms. When any serious matter required to be discussed, these chiefs were bidden into Mr. Maxwell’s private sitting-room, capable of holding fifty or sixty people squatting comfortably on the floor. I have often been present at such meetings. The Rajah and Mr. Maxwell sat on cane chairs, and the chiefs squatted in rows on the floor giving vent to long-winded and extraordinarily fluent speeches. I do not know the Dyak language, and it is impossible to imagine the torrent of words that can pour out for hours together from the lips of these warriors. Their language resembles Malay in a disconcerting way; knowing Malay, I supposed I might understand what they said, but I could only catch a word here and there. Sea Dyaks speak in a jerky manner, and in councils of war sit perfectly motionless, their eyes fixed on the ground, and talk interminably, until the Rajah, sifting the important matter from the flow of rhetoric, stops the speaker and orders another man present to give his views on the subject. Dyaks are born orators, and think a great deal of anyone who can hold forth for hours without pausing for a word. They talk about such men in eulogistic terms: “He is good,” “He is brave,” “His mouth is beautiful,” etc. I used to think such councils of war, from the lengthy speeches made, must prove trying to the Rajah and his officers, but living amongst primitive people seems to change the temper, and make patience an ordinary accompaniment to life in those regions.