•one of the most dreary nights I ever spent in the Bornean
woods.
In the morning we retraced our steps across the rocky
stream, and soon struck the right path for Kiau, but we
had not gone far before we met “ Kurow,” the chief of
our runaway guides, in a great state of excitement,
coming in search of us. He brought us some fine
langsat fruit in his hag—presumably a peace offering—
and seemed rather surprised that we did not chide him
for his desertion of the day before. As we arrived
nearer the village we came across our men, armed
with muskets, also in search of us, and the hilltop
was covered with Kiau people, who appeared greatly
concerned, and doubtless glad to see us safe and
well.W
hen we reached the house, everybody seemed glad
to see our safe return, and sweet potatoes, maize, rice,
and kaladi, were readily brought in by the villagers for
ourselves and our men. “ Musa ” and the rest of our
followers had arrived at Kiau soon after dark the night
before. One man brought a basket of excellent langsat
fruit, and a woman gave us two beautiful oranges from
a tree near her door. They were quite yellow, with
tender skins and sweet pulp, similar to those of the
south of Europe, not green skinned, with tough desepi-
ments, as are those of Labuan. I was much surprised
at the oranges having grass - green skins when perfectly
ripe in Singapore, and even the brittle skinned
Mandarin variety had this peculiarity.
Our guide, “ Kurow,” was twitted pretty much by his
neighbours for having left us the day before, and at last
he retired to his house evidently not well pleased with
himself, and, I believe, not a little surprised at our
treating the matter so lightly.
We went out to a shady spot near the house to
examine our plants and see that they were in good
order, and we then rested all day. We were not altogether
satisfied with our trip to the mountain, and
resolved to start off to it again in the morning, but
this time taking another path so as to reach the “ Marie
Parie ” spur. We sent off for “ Kurow,” and, telling
him our intentions, asked him to collect his followers
and be in readiness to accompany us. The poor fellow
was delighted at this sign of our confidence in him, and
helped us zealously, enduring cold, rain, and waiting
to him meaningless, weary waiting—without a murmur.
In the morning we crossed the hill behind the village,
and fording the “ Haya-Haya,” “ Dahombang,” “ Pino-
Kok,” and “ Kina Takie” streams, we reached the foot
of the “ Marie Parie ” spur.
Now came a climb up a rocky pathway, besides which
we noticed fine plants of Cypripedivm Petreianum, Cyst-
orchis variegata, and a lovely yellow flowered terrestrial
orchid belonging to the genus Spathoglottis, but quite
distinct from S. aurea. As we ascended, our path lay up
through a belt oftall bamboos, and here two species of
nepenthes were seen. One was the long, green pitchered
kind, covered with purple blotches (N. Boschiana var.
Lowii), and the other a tall growing species, bearing
beautiful white pitchers, elegantly ewer-shaped, diaphanous
like “ egg shell” porcelain, and most daintily
blotched with reddish crimson in a way quite unlike
any other variety. This grew on both sides of the path,
and climbed the trees to a height of forty or fifty feet.
We reached the crest of the ridge about three o’clock, in
a heavy drenching shower, the climate being similar to
that of a warm autumn evening in a Devonshire wood.
We slept under some overhanging rocks at an elevation