uld find in the way of stuff was his
socks. He tied them on to the loose ends of the wicks, and they drew oil
all right, but he only had six, being a frugal man in his habits. Not
another thing could he rummage up around the shack to help him, no yarn,
nor twine, nor goods of any kind.

"Shall we be stuck by such naturalistic obstacles?" said Andrew Harden,
and he took his pants, which were canvas, and hacked them with a knife.
By raveling off about four inches from each leg he got enough cotton
thread to patch the other two wicks with. It left him kind of
high-watered, you might say. Yes, he was well ventilated around his
ankles, and not having any more socks to his feet he was going to be
quite cool. But the strait was safe for the time, and he could now turn
his attention to real business.

He used to start easy every morning on his natural history by digging
out a few billions of dead moths that had snowed in his lights all
night. Then he'd hurry ashore over his plank bridge and collect snails
and fuzzy worms and similar crawlers by the tide mark. Later he'd work
into heavier stuff--bats and leeches and centipedes and such like
fascinating reptiles--or maybe dodge a panther or a wild pig or a boa
constrictor in the jungle. Finally he'd taper off on ticks, which took
to him most amazing, and fire ants and scorpions and mosquitoes as big
as your finger. If there is one thing more evident than another in
Borneo it's insects, and Andrew Harben did say he often swum home at
dusk through solid waves of them. Taking that as meant, you can still
see he would be by no means lonesome.

And pretty soon he had company of another kind too, being native. These
were a tribe of simple Bugis that lived infrequent through the back
country in a state of innocence you would hardly imagine, and they were
very hairy and most friendly to Andrew Harben, which was queer. One
family had a hang-out near the river, and it wasn't long before old Allo
and his seven sons were serving him in all kinds of little ways. As soon
as they understood his idea about animals and specimens they took a
highly informing interest, Andrew Harben said.

They knew a good deal about natural history in their own way, and they
gave him spiders and adders and things like that, very nice and all
particular deadly. One day they took him into the jungle and introduced
him to a caterpillar that drops off the trees on you so its hairs stick
in your skin. Andrew Harben