eele
(then in charge of the station) were brutally murdered by the Kanowits
in 1859; but ever since the terrible vengeance that followed, on the
part of the Government, the tribe have always been among the firmest
allies of the Raja.

We visited Jok's dwelling in the cool of the evening. As all houses
belonging to the more civilised indigenous races in Borneo are built
on the same principle as Jok's, a description of this will suffice for
all.

The houses (as I have said) are built on wooden posts driven firmly
into the ground, and ranging from thirty to forty feet high, according
to the size of the dwelling. They are entered by a wooden pole, placed
in a slanting position, at one end of the building, having notches cut
into it to afford firmer foothold. This pole can be drawn into the
house on occasion, thus cutting off all communication with the
outside. The interior of the house (which in this case was over
seventy yards long, by about thirty yards broad) was divided by a thin
wooden partition running its entire length and dividing it into two
equal portions. On the one side of this partition is the "ruai," or
large hall, which is the common dwelling-place of the tribe, and on
the other a series of small boxes (for one can call them nothing else)
about twelve feet square, which are sacred to the married people. Each
of these compartments has a door of its own leading into the "ruai,"
and these are taxed by Government at 1 dol. a door. Overhead, again,
is the "sadow," an upper storey which runs the length of the building,
the residence of the unmarried girls, and wherein the valuables of the
tribe are kept.

The floorings of these houses are made of split bamboo, which offers
but a precarious footing to the unsuspecting traveller, as holes are
numerous, and a slip through would precipitate one forty feet below.
In front of the house runs a bamboo verandah about twenty feet broad,
where domestic operations, such as cooking, padi grinding, &c., are
carried on. The roof of dried palm-leaves is a high sloping one, and
comes down to within about foot and a half of the floor, throwing the
interior of the building into almost total darkness, even in broad
daylight.

The Resident's entry was hardly a dignified one, as he had to clamber
up the pole and into the building on all fours, drawing his body
through the small aperture hardly three feet square, which formed the
entry of the house. Once in the "ruai," however, gre