At this stage of my proceedings the war broke out. On August 6 I had an audience of the Governor-General, who informed me that he was then unable to let me have either soldiers or ship for my explorations. The day before he had recalled his own great expedition on the Mamberamo in Northern New Guinea, and advised me to wait for a more favourable opportunity, promising that he would later give me all assistance. The commanding general was equally agreeable. As I had never been in British India I decided to go there while awaiting developments regarding the war, so the following Saturday found me on my way to Singapore. Here I first arranged for the safe return of my two assistants, who had been left in Macassar, where cholera had broken out. Usually natives, who range under the category of labourers, go as deck-passengers on steamers in the East. Therefore, after I had bought second-class tickets for them, and the Dutch Packet Boat Company had courteously offered to have a man meet them on arrival, I felt satisfied that they would have no trouble in landing. I then continued my journey over Penang to Madras. In spite of the continuation of the war and the great fascination of India, in April, the following year, 1915, I decided to return to the Dutch Indies and undertake an expedition to Central Borneo, parts of which are unexplored and unknown to the outside world. Briefly, my plans were to start from Bandjermasin in the south, ascend the Barito River, and, branching hence into its northern tributary, the Busang, to cross the watershed to the Mahakam or Kutei River. Following the latter to its mouth I should reach the east coast near Samarinda. This journey, I found, would take me through a country where were some tribes never before studied. At Colombo I took the Dutch steamer _Grotius_, which gave me a very pleasant week. The Dutch are a kindly nation. There were fifteen children on first-class playing on deck, and I never heard them cry nor saw them fighting. After more than nine months' absence I again found myself in Batavia, and from there I went to Buitenzorg to ask an audience of the Governor-General. He offered to give me all assistance in furthering my project, and I had the pleasure of being invited to dine at the palace. A large open carriage, with quaint, old-fashioned lanterns, called for me. The coachman and footman were liveried Javanese. It was a beautiful, cool, starlit evening in the middle of June when we drove up the imposing avenue of banyan-trees which leads to the main entrance. The interior of the palace is cool and dignified in appearance, and the Javanese waiters in long, gold-embroidered liveries, whose nude feet passed silently over the marble floor, were in complete accord with the setting.