Towards the afternoon the flotilla was moored near an islet, or rather a sandbank, which, appearing above the surface only at low water, consisted of blinding white sand intermixed with small round pebbles. It was, however, delightfully shaded by the trees lining the sides of the river, which had here become rather narrow, and therefore offered a charming resting-place. The travellers had scarcely stepped ashore to stretch their cramped legs when a whole troop of “boehies” was seen gambolling among the branches of the high trees. Boehies are black and gray apes noted for their long tails. Curious like all quadrumana they approached the edge of the forest and stared at what the travellers were doing on the island. Gradually gaining confidence they came nearer, making the most curious summersaults in their progress, while some of the younger ones risked themselves amongst the lower branches, hanging down by their tails and balancing themselves so close to the heads of the men that they could almost touch them. When their confidence had advanced thus far, Harimaoung Boekit whispered something to the Europeans who kept their guns ready loaded with shot and slugs, while the Dayaks seized their blow-pipes. The gay colony of monkeys, ignorant of the danger awaiting them, still continued their acrobatic performances above the heads of the men. At a given signal the rifles were discharged and twelve boehies fell mortally wounded. The cries uttered by these wounded animals were heartrending. Their companions disappeared with the speed of lightning. But not all of them; a mother seeing her young one fall under the fatal lead, and being herself unhurt, pounced down to grasp her dying infant, pressed it to her bosom and before any one could prevent her leaped into the river, dived, gained the shore and disappeared in the thick foliage. Another of the wounded did not fall, but spasmodically supported itself by its hind legs on the branch where only a short time before it had been gaily disporting. For a moment only it remained hanging there and they could almost touch it. With tears in its eyes it pressed its hands upon its chest, from which the blood trickled down between its fingers. It had received a gaping wound; its groans were agonizing; its looks expressed melancholy reproach, its whole appearance was so pitiful that not one amongst the Dayaks nor even the wild Poenans had the courage to attempt the capture of the animal. At last the poor creature collected all its strength, grasped the branch with its hands, raised itself and sat down. It then plucked some leaves and green sprigs, chewed them and applied this self-made poultice to its wound. Then it kept quiet for a few minutes as if to take breath, after which, supporting itself by its tail and three hands, the fourth covering the wound, it gradually withdrew and disappeared amid the dark umbrage of the forest.