An umbrella of the usual type, Chinese or Japanese, is very useful for travel in Borneo. At times it proves of excellent service in the prahu in case of sudden showers, and it is invaluable for protecting the camera when photographing. But as a matter of comfort and convenience it is my custom to have my head uncovered except in rainy or cold weather. The sun is a great friend and health-giver, and notwithstanding well-meant warnings and an inborn fear first to be overcome, during my journeys in Borneo I carried my hat in my pocket. When travelling in a prahu, I do not care for a prolonged exposure to the sun, but often I photographed for three or four hours continuously--really hard work--in the blazing light of the equatorial sun, without experiencing any disagreeable effect. In the spring of 1910 I travelled in this way for three months, mostly on horseback, through the Sonora Desert, and felt stronger for it. It is my opinion that overfatigue, excess in eating, or alcohol are the causes of sunstroke. I have met only one man who, like myself, discards cover for the head--Doctor N. Annandale, of the Indian Museum in Calcutta. Although in our present state of knowledge I agree with him that it is unwise to advise others to do likewise in the tropics, I emphatically recommend less fear of the sun in temperate regions, always on the supposition that one leads a healthy and sane life. The Long-Glats came from Apo Kayan, and established themselves first on the River Glit, a tributary from the south to the River Ugga, which again is an affluent to the River Boh, the outlet from Apo Kayan to the Mahakam. Since that time the people have called themselves Long-Glit, which is their correct name, but as they have already become known as Long-Glat, through the Dutch, I shall use that designation. In the kapala's house I saw a superb plank, four metres long, raised lengthwise against the wall; one side of it was taken up with fine carvings on a large scale, representing three pairs of dogs. This I fortunately obtained. The kapala's father was an Oma-Suling, but his grandmother, a Long-Glat, had taught him some kremi or kesa, the Malay words for folklore (in Long-Glat, lawong), and I collected from him two rather interesting tales, which are included with other folklore stories at the end of this book. In one of them (No. 18) the airplane is foreshadowed, and by one that could fly for a month, at that. Needless to state, an airplane had never been heard of in those parts.