“In the times when animals were still possessed of speech, a huge elephant arrived at the south coast of Borneo from the other side and swam up the Kahajan. The animals residing there saw with astonishment how this monster was making its way up their stream. A large crocodile was sent to enquire into the intentions of the stranger. This crocodile not very diplomatically began to grasp part of the body of the intruder between his teeth and thought to gain an easy victory. The elephant, however, took him up in his powerful trunk, raised him like a ball in the air, and shattered his spine against a floating tree. Enraged by this cowardly attack, the visitor stepped ashore, called to a deer grazing in the vicinity, and commissioned him to declare war against all the animals in Borneo. He sent a couple of tusks by this ambassador in order to convey an adequate impression of the size and strength of the challenging party. “Although this defiance was rather boastful, the elephant correctly foresaw what would happen. The animals became frightened and were astounded on seeing these colossal teeth; while the fate of the crocodile, described by the deer, did not tend to abate their terror. In the midst of all this consternation, the little porcupine appeared as their saviour. She advised them to send a few of her quills, bidding the stranger compare the hair of his future opponents with his own, and thence form some idea of the size of the teeth of animals which possessed such colossal bristles. The stratagem succeeded perfectly. The elephant, by no means anxious to enter into a contest with such powerful opponents, asked for his teeth to be returned, and swam back as fast as he could to the country whence he had come. Up to the present date, the spot where the pachyderm stepped ashore is called rantau gadjah oendoer, or the bend of the river where the elephant returned.” “By the saints! that was cleverly done,” La Cueille observed, “such bristles would make a sapper feel ashamed of his beard, and they truly conveyed the warning, ‘qui s’y frotte, s’y pique.’” “The legend is not bad,” Schlickeisen said, “but I do not find what I inquired after. This flight of the elephant I fancy points more to some foreign attack, perhaps of Hindoos, in former times, which was baffled by the cunning of the natives. It does not indicate any knowledge of wild animals like the elephant. It is not unlikely, however, that if the assailants were really Hindoos, they had armed elephants with their army.” “Possibly,” Johannes answered phlegmatically, “but I have told you all I know, and I am quite certain that with the exception of a few Cingalese who have here and there settled as traders, nothing Hindoo is found in Borneo.”