in the house was more fortunate. We heard the rattling of the
pitiless rain, and commiserated those whose choice or distrust kept
them in the boat. I obtained by this means an excellent opportunity of
seeing a Malay _menage_ in its primitive simplicity. Women, children,
and all their domestic arrangements, were exposed to view. Nothing
appeared to be concealed, nor could anything exceed the simple,
kind-hearted hospitality of the inhabitants. The women gazed upon us
freely; and their children, with the shyness natural to their age,
yet took a glance at the strangers. Never having seen a white man,
their curiosity was naturally excited; but it was never offensive. Our
supper consisted of an excellent curry, and cold venison broiled on a
stick, flavored with a glass of sherry, and concluded by a cigar. We
retired to a dry bed, laying our head on the pillow with as entire
a feeling of security as though reposing in England.

"A description of this Malay dwelling, situated so far up this hitherto
unknown river, may be interesting. Built, like other Malay houses,
on posts, floored with split bamboo, and covered with the leaf of the
Nepa palm, it presents the very _beau ideal_ of fragility, but affords,
at the same time, many advantages, and with a little improvement
might be rendered admirably calculated for a new settler in any warm
country. It is built at very small expense, is remarkably roomy, free
from damp, and weather-proof. The interior of the house consists of
four rooms, the center one large and commodious, the front narrower,
but thirty-six feet in length, a family sleeping-apartment on one side,
and a kitchen at the back. These apartments are divided one from the
other by partitions made of the Nepa; the floors were nicely spread
with strong mats of Dyak manufacture, and on our arrival finer white
mats were laid over these. The entrance of the house is approached
by a steep ladder, which in case of attack is easily removed. The
river Samarahan is admirably calculated for trade, and, indeed,
the same may be said of the whole country, from the great facility
it offers of inland communication. There is no impediment for small
vessels of 200 or 300 tons navigating as far as Sibnow, the stream
being deep and clear of danger. The tides in the river are strong,
but not dangerously so; and, sounding occasionally in every reach,
we never found less water than three fathoms. The distant mountains,
called Bukar (and some o