le including half a dozen Caucasians. In spite of its
small size it has a small garrison of native soldiers and the inevitable
recreation ground. Besides this there is here a race track at which a
meet was about to be held. Attracted probably by the races was the
ubiquitous moving picture show, set up in a tent near the race track. It
is impossible to escape the "movies." I attended a moving picture
exhibition given in the cockpit of a small Philippine village about
fifty miles out from Manila, and here was another in a still smaller
village on the Island of Borneo, hundreds of miles from _anywhere_. In
the same way it is impossible to escape the voice of the phonograph. On
several occasions I have heard them in tiny nipa shacks in small
Philippine villages, and in a Moro shack in Kudat, built on poles above
the water, I heard the sound of what seemed a very good phonograph of
some sort.

[Illustration: CHINESE WOMEN CARRYING LOG, SANDAKAN.]

In the northeast corner of Borneo is its highest mountain, Kini or Kina
Balu, the Chinese Widow, supposedly so named because of the fancied
resemblance of its jagged top to the upturned face of a woman. It is
really a very impressive peak and, being seen from the sea, it looks its
full height of nearly fourteen thousand feet; being exactly under the
sixth parallel it is, of course, too close to the equator to be
snow-capped. Its position near the coast enabled us to enjoy it as we
approached the island from the northeast and as we passed around and
down the west coast, so that it was visible for nearly three days. Other
mountain peaks of five or six thousand feet are visible along the west
coast but they appear insignificant in comparison with old Kini Balu.

[Illustration: CHINO CARRIER, SANDAKAN.]

[Illustration: RACE-COURSE AT KUDAT.

Movie tent in the left background.]

Leaving Kudat in the evening we arrived at Jesselton the following
morning. This is a town of about the same size and character of location
as Kudat, but as the northern terminus of the only railroad on the
island it seems much more of a metropolis. It has a clock-tower, too,
the pride of every Jesseltonian heart, located in plain view of
the railroad station so that there is no excuse for the trains leaving
Jesselton more than two or three hours late. There is here again the
recreation field and market house, and, of course, the usual Chinese
stores and Indian policemen; besides this it is the home town o