The house-boats which represent the original dwellings of the people have been already described. The land houses are of a very frail and rude character, though not without their own charm and picturesqueness when seen embedded in bowers of tropical foliage. Each house represents very strikingly the social grade of its owner, whether it be the low hut of the labourer in which a man of average height may scarcely stand upright, or the brick and stone palace with carpets and electric lights of the prince or nobleman. Most of the houses are of wood, and are made of either bamboo or teak. They stand upon wooden platforms about six feet from the ground, being supported in that position by strong teak pillars. Teak is used for this purpose not only on account of its strength, but because it is also one of the few woods which are so hard that the destructive little "white ant" leaves it alone. The walls are of teak boards, or else of plaited bamboo. In the latter case the dwelling is light and airy, for the numerous interstices between the strands of wood are left unclosed, thus admitting a plentiful supply of air and light. The roof is always covered with some form of thatch, never with slates or tiles. Along the river banks and near water generally, the attap palm grows in abundance, and its long fibrous leaves make an excellent thatch. The leaves are stitched together, forming rectangular layers about two feet long and one foot wide. When these leafy mats are placed on the roof in an inclined position they form a water-tight covering. In places remote from water, where the leaves cannot be easily obtained, an equally serviceable thatch is made from the long broad leaves of certain kinds of jungle grass. These leafy roofs last about three years. In the summer they get so completely dried by the sun that they become brittle, and every strong gust of wind carries away tiny bits of the thatch. In this condition they are extremely inflammable, and fires are of frequent occurrence. As the houses are usually very close together, a fire is a very serious calamity; for not only are numerous dwellings consumed in the rapidly spreading conflagration itself, but it is always necessary to destroy every house in the neighbourhood on which sparks would be likely to fall, in order to prevent a wholesale bonfire. There is no fire-brigade either amateur or professional, and the soldiers are always employed to put out the flames. One of these houses could be easily smashed to bits by a hatchet, especially in the dry season, when they are about as substantial as a match-box.