With regard to the cultivation side of plantation work, the chief matter on which the planters differ is the business of weeding. Some of them are certain in their own minds that rubber-trees grow best when the ground is quite clear of weeds. Some maintain that perfectly clean weeding is a waste of time and money; they believe in having a clean circle of ground round each tree, and keeping the weeds down on the rest of the land by putting in some variety of dwarf spreading plant. Those who favour this latter plan talk of the manuring properties of such plants, and of the good they do by harbouring moisture. Planters in favour of clean weeding say such plants keep light and air from the ground, and that they are not good food for the soil. At the various Botanic Gardens, especially in Ceylon, Malaya, and Java, many scientists are devoting much time to the study of rubber cultivation and preparation, and this question as to the best method of weeding is receiving a great deal of attention. [Illustration: _M. S. Nakajima, Kuala Lumpur_ TAKING LATEX TO THE FACTORY BY BULLOCK-CART, IN MALAYA] Whilst we have been talking, we have been making our way to one of the oldest and finest rubber estates in the East. It is known as “Linggi Plantations”; and is situated in the Federated Malay States, in the neighbourhood of Kuala Lumpur, the chief up-country town of Malaya, and close to Port Swettenham, the busy, up-country port which, during the last few years, has been raised by the rubber industry to a position of great importance on the Suez-Far East trading route. “Linggi” consists of so many large plantations and up-to-date workshops that in a whole day we can only get the merest peep at the estate. We begin sight-seeing about six in the morning, just as the sun is rising, by going into one block of one plantation to see the tappers at work. We are in the midst of a carefully cultivated wood of Heveas; all around us stand a dignified army of straight, tall trunks; high overhead stretches a thick canopy of leaves. For a few moments, the landscape strikes us as being a rather sombre picture in browns and greens, and we cannot see a single human being anywhere in the scene. Presently the dawnbeams discover numerous chinks in the canopy, and come streaming through the leaves, here, there, and everywhere; the ground is bronzed, the trunks are gilded, the treetops are illuminated with quaintly shaped patches of rosy light. Then, suddenly the scene becomes a blaze of colour; strolling leisurely across the horizon come a crowd of figures, all of whom are undoubtedly wearing some bit of clothing that is bright red, green, blue, or yellow.