thirty paces which I stepped off myself, hit
the almost indistinguishable mark with his darts twelve times running.
That, as the late Colonel Cody would have put it, "is some shooting."

In Borneo the use of the blow-gun is not confined to the Dyaks. They
are also used by fish! That is to say, by a certain species of fish.
This fish, which is remarkable neither in size nor color, seldom being
larger than our domestic goldfish, is known to the natives as _ikan
sumpit_ (literally "fish with a sumpitan") and to science as _Toxodes
jaculator_. But it is unique among the finny tribe in possessing the
curious power, on corning to the surface, of being able to squirt from
its mouth a tiny jet of water. This it uses with unerring aim against
insects, such as flies, grasshoppers and spiders, resting on plants
along the edge of the streams, causing them to fall into the water,
where they become an easy prey to these Dyaks of the deep. It was lucky
for us that the crocodiles were not armed with blow-guns!

When Latins engage in a serious quarrel they are prone to decide it
with the stiletto, or, if they belong to the class which subscribes to
the code, they meet on the field of honor with rapiers or pistols;
Anglo-Saxons are accustomed to settle their disputes in a court of law
or with their fists; but when Dyaks become involved in a controversy
which cannot be adjusted by the tribal council, they have recourse to
the _s'lam ayer_, or trial by water. This curious method of deciding
disputes is conducted with great formality, according to the rules of
an established code. For example, should two husky young head-hunters
become involved in a lovers' quarrel over a village belle--the lobes of
whose ears are probably pulled down to her shoulders by the weight of
her brass earrings--they adjourn, with their seconds and their friends,
to what might appropriately be called the pool of honor. Almost any
place where there are four or five feet of water will do. Into the
bottom of the pool the seconds drive two stout bamboo poles, a few
yards apart. The rivals then wade out into the water and take up their
positions, each grasping a pole. At a signal from the chief who is
acting as umpire they plunge beneath the water, each duelist keeping
his nostrils closed with one hand while with the other he clings to the
pole so as to keep his head below the surface. As both of them would
drown themselves rather than acknowledge defeat by coming to t