property;
but these are the vices rather of situation than of character, for
they have been taught by bitter experience that their rulers set no
limits to their exactions, and that hiding is their only chance of
retaining a portion of the grain they have raised. They are, at the
same time, fully aware of the customs by which their ancestors were
governed, and are constantly appealing to them as a rule of right,
and frequently arguing with the Malay on the subject. Upon these
occasions they are silenced, but not convinced; and the Malay, while
he evades or bullies when it is needful, is sure to appeal to these
very much-abused customs whenever it serves his purpose. The manners
of the Dyaks with strangers are reserved to an extent rarely seen
among rude or half-civilized people; but on a better acquaintance
(which is not readily acquired), they are open and talkative, and,
when heated with their favorite beverage, lively, and evincing
more shrewdness and observation than they have gained credit for
possessing. Their ideas, as may well be supposed, are very limited;
they reckon with their fingers and toes, and few are clever enough to
count beyond twenty; but when they repeat the operation, they record
each twenty by making a knot on a string.

Like other wild people, the slightest restraint is irksome, and
no temptation will induce them to stay long from their favorite
jungle. It is there they seek the excitement of war, the pleasures of
the chase, the labors of the field, and the abundance of fruit in the
rich produce which assists in supporting their families. The pathless
jungle is endeared to them by every association which influences the
human mind, and they languish when prevented from roaming there as
inclination dictates.

With reference to the gradual advance of the Dyaks, Mr. Brooke
observes in an early part of his journal:--"The peaceful and
gentle aborigines--how can I speak too favorably of their improved
condition? These people, who, a few years since, suffered every extreme
of misery from war, slavery, and starvation, are now comfortably
lodged, and comparatively rich. A stranger might now pass from village
to village, and he would receive their hospitality, and see their padi
stored in their houses. He would hear them proclaim their happiness,
and praise the white man as their friend and protector. Since the
death of Parembam, no Dyak of Sarawak lost his life by violence, until
a month since, when two