The gloom of the forest was diversified by the colours of its extraordinary orchids. One of these (_grammatophyllum speciosum_), which had made its home on a lofty tree, was of almost incredible luxuriance, and could the whole plant have been secured, it would not have weighed less than half a ton. I despatched one of my native boys to climb the tree to see if he could secure a specimen. He went about his task in the native fashion. The climber stands with his face to the trunk, which, as well as his body, is encircled with a hoop of rattan cane. This hoop he holds in each hand, and his ankles are tied together. First, he leans back until his body has purchase on the hoop, and then at that moment, by the leverage of his ankles, he makes an upward movement of about a foot. Then, falling backwards against the hoop, and pressing his feet against the trunk, he is supported for the next spring. This operation is repeated with marvellous dexterity and rapidity, and with this contrivance the youth makes his way to the top. There is no tree in New Guinea that a native cannot climb thus. In the present instance, my man was not destined to have any luck, for the network of roots round the tree formed such a wide-spreading dome that he could not make his way over to the crown to secure a specimen of the orchid, and the attempt had accordingly to be abandoned. We pressed on along the rough track, which was everywhere beset with precipices and ravines that compelled us to take the greatest care. The road was fairly practicable, however, for transit, and there were no very serious obstructions at this stage of the journey. My people were in good spirits, and we plodded on as gaily as might be, occasionally stopping and giving the men a smoke. Despite the toils of the road, these halts in the forest were perfectly delightful, for we had in the improvement of the air a foretaste of the pleasant freshness that was to make life in the mountains of New Guinea so tolerable and even attractive. After five hours’ march we arrived at Ekeikei, rather tired and ready for slumber, but here, alas! there was no rest for us. The native carriers had to lodge, some in our hut, some under it, and their method of spending the night was not favourable to repose. Their idea is to sleep for half-an-hour, and then light their pipes and spin yarns, which, to judge by their uproarious laughter, must have been extremely diverting. After the story-telling, they obliged us with songs, and the music wooed them again to a brief period of slumber. It did not woo us, for the coast natives have no ear, and their music is very unlike the soft and flowing song of the mountaineers. This performance went on until daybreak, when we rose. In order to make a satisfactory day’s journey it was necessary to start at 5 A.M. We had to prepare our own breakfast and give the natives theirs, and then we set out for Madui.