The Oma-Palo had their own festival, which lasted only one day. It began in the afternoon of the sixth day and I went over to see it. The livers of the pigs were not in favourable condition, which caused much delay in the proceedings, and it was nearly five o'clock when they finally began to make a primitive dángei hut, all the material for which had been gathered. A few slim upright poles with human faces carved at the upper ends were placed so as to form the outline of a quadrangle. On the ground between them planks were laid, and on the two long sides of this space were raised bamboo stalks with leaves on, which leaned together and formed an airy cover. It was profusely adorned with wood shavings hung by the ends in long spirals, the whole arrangement forming a much simpler house of worship than the one described above. The kapala having sacrificed a tiny chicken, a man performed a war dance on the planks in superb fashion, and after that two female blians danced. Next morning I returned and asked permission to photograph the dancing. The kapala replied that if a photograph were made while they were working--that is to say, dancing--they would have to do all their work over again, otherwise some misfortune would come upon them, such as the falling of one of the bamboo stalks, which might kill somebody. Later, while they were eating, for example, there would be no objection to the accomplishment of my desire. With the eighth day an increased degree of ceremonials became noticeable, and in order to keep pace therewith I was driven to continuous activity. On a muggy, warm morning I began work by photographing the Raja Besar, who had given me permission to take himself and his family. When I arrived at the house where he was staying he quickly made his preparations to "look pleasant," removing the large rings he wore in the extended lobes of his ears and substituting a set of smaller ones, eight for each ear. He was also very particular in putting on correct apparel, whether to appear in warrior costume or as a private gentleman of the highest caste. His sword and the rest of his outfit, as might be expected, were of magnificent finish, the best of which Dayak handicraft is capable. He made altogether a splendid subject for the camera, but his family proved less satisfactory. I had to wait an hour and a half before his womenfolk were ready, femininity apparently being alike in this regard in all races. When they finally emerged from the house in great array (which showed Malay influence) they were a distinct disappointment.