A wide-awake kapala from one of the kampongs above was of excellent service in explaining the purposes of the ethnological objects I purchased. About articles used by women he was less certain, but he gave me much valuable information, though it was impossible to keep him as long as I desired because he felt anxious about the havoc rusa and monkeys might make with his paddi fields. At five o'clock of an afternoon I had finished, and in spite of a heavy shower the kapala left to look after his paddi, with a night journey of six hours before him. These people are satisfied with little, and he was happy to receive, besides rice and money, a quantity of cocoanut oil and some empty tin cans thrown in. During this busy day the thought occurred to me that the night was Christmas eve, the great festival in Scandinavian countries, and I had made no preparation for a better meal, having neither time nor means. In fact, it so happened that I had rather less than usual. Nevertheless, the day had passed happily, as I accomplished much and acquired interesting information, for instance, about the flying prahu which I had secured. It was about half a metre long, and this and similar models seem to be quite an institution in the southern parts of Borneo. The Duhoi and the Katingans use the contrivance for curing disease, though not in the way we should expect, by carrying away the disorder, but by making a present of the prahu to a good antoh to facilitate his journey. The name of the flying prahu is menáma, in. Katingan, melambong. The more or less wavy carvings of the edge represent the beach. On board are several wooden images: The great hornbill which carries the prahu along and steers it; the tiger-cat, which guards it; the gong and two blanga (valuable urns), to which are added a modernism in the shape of a rifle--all are there ready to drive away the bad antoh which caused the illness. To a pole--or rather a combination of two poles--are tied two rudely made wooden figures, one above the other, representing, the one below, the djuragan or skipper (tiháng); the one above, the master of the "sails" (únda). When a Duhoi is very ill and able to pay the blian five florins, he promises a good antoh to give him a menáma if he will make him well. The contrivance is then made and the necessary ceremonies performed to the end that its purpose shall be fulfilled. In the presence of many persons, the afflicted man lying on his mat, the blian dances in the room holding the prahu on his hands, the left at the bow, and swerving it to left and to right; he sings at the same time but there is no other music. On three consecutive nights this performance is continued for about an hour, near the door, with an eye to the ship's departure, and although it does not disappear it is believed to have accomplished its mission.