The controleur, Mr. J.C. Vergouwen, said that there were 700 Dayaks in his district. He was able to further my plans materially by calling a Malay official who was about to start in the same direction for the purpose of vaccinating the natives some distance up country. The kapala of the district, from Pengaron, who happened to be there, was also sent for, and both men were instructed to render me assistance. Next day the Malay coolies carried our baggage to the unattractive beach near the market-place, strewn with bones and refuse, loaded our goods in the prahus, and the journey began. The men were cheap and willing but slow, and it was near sunset when we arrived at the English rubber plantation near Bumirata. The controleur had been friendly enough to send word to the manager that he had invited me to stay overnight at the estate. However, upon arrival there we were told that the manager had gone to Bandjermasin the day before, but was expected back at seven o'clock. It did not seem the proper thing to make ourselves at home in his absence, so we returned to the kampong, five minutes below by prahu, to make camp in a spacious, rather clean-looking, shed that formed the pasar or market-place. At midnight I was awakened by the halting of an automobile and a Malay calling out, "Tuan! Tuan!" and I stepped from my bed to meet a friendly looking man in a mackintosh, who proved to be Mr. B. Massey, the manager. We talked together for an hour in the calm of a Bornean night. What he said about the irregularity of the climatic conditions interested me. Two years previously it had been so dry for a while that prahus could move only in canals made in the river-bed. His friends had thought him mad to come to Borneo, but he liked the climate better than that of Java. His kind invitation to breakfast I declined with regret, because when one is travelling it is very troublesome to change clothing, shave, and appear civilised. We arrived at Pengaron at noon. The kapala of the district, a Malay with the title of kiai, lived in a comfortable house formerly occupied by a controleur, one room serving the purpose of a pasang-grahan. On our arrival he was at the mosque, but returned in an hour. The vaccinateur was already there, and by a lucky chance Ismail made his appearance, the kapala from Mandin, whom the controleur thought would be useful, as he had influence with Malays and Dayaks. The kiai, a remarkably genial man, was the most agreeable Malay I met. He behaved like an European, bathed in the bathroom, _a la_ Dutch, dressed very neatly, and had horses and carriage. The hours were told by a bell from four o'clock in the morning, and two clocks could be heard striking, one an hour ahead of the other.