r several
minutes, and then only moved away slowly to an adjacent tree. After
seeing one, I have often had to go half a mile or more to fetch my gun,
and in nearly every case have found it on the same tree, or within
a hundred yards, when I returned. I never saw two full-grown animals
together, but both males and females are sometimes accompanied by
half-grown young ones, while, at other times, three or four young ones
were seen in company. Their food consists almost exclusively of fruit,
with occasionally leaves, buds, and young shoots. They seem to prefer
unripe fruits, some of which were very sour, others intensely bitter,
particularly the large red, fleshy arillus of one which seemed an
especial favourite. In other cases they eat only the small seed of a
large fruit, and they almost always waste and destroy more than they
eat, so that there is a continual rain of rejected portions below the
tree they are feeding on. The Durian is an especial favourite, and
quantities of this delicious fruit are destroyed wherever it grows
surrounded by forest, but they will not cross clearings to get at them.
It seems wonderful how the animal can tear open this fruit, the outer
covering of which is so thick and tough, and closely covered with strong
conical spines. It probably bites off a few of these first, and then,
making a small hole, tears open the fruit with its powerful fingers.

The Mias rarely descends to the ground, except when pressed by hunger,
it seeks succulent shoots by the riverside; or, in very dry weather,
has to search after water, of which it generally finds sufficient in the
hollows of leaves. Only once I saw two half-grown Orangs on the ground
in a dry hollow at the foot of the Simunjon hill. They were playing
together, standing erect, and grasping each other by the arms. It may
be safely stated, however, that the Orang never walks erect, unless when
using its hands to support itself by branches overhead or when attacked.
Representations of its walking with a stick are entirely imaginary.

The Dyaks all declare that the Mias is never attacked by any animal in
the forest, with two rare exceptions; and the accounts I received
of these are so curious that I give them nearly in the words of my
informants, old Dyak chiefs, who had lived all their lives in the places
where the animal is most abundant. The first of whom I inquired said:
"No animal is strong enough to hurt the Mias, and the only creature he
ever fight