he violence with which it hits, or the poison
it inoculates.

In the same way as the aborigenes of Australia throw their boomerang
with inimitable dexterity and security, the Sakai manages his blowpipe
with a cleverness it is impossible to imitate or learn. The Malays, who
have studied to make themselves masters of this weapon, are but poor
shooters compared to their forest neighbours.

Together with the _blau_ the Sakai always carries with him his _lok_
(quiver) suspended from a girdle of bark, called _bo gnan_ (pr. bo
nean).

This quiver is also composed of bamboo measuring from 3 to 7 inches
round and 13 or 14 long. It is very rare that the darts are placed in it
without being first enclosed in thin reeds, known by the name of _dama_
which preserve the points and prevent the poison from being rubbed off
as well as saving it from getting damp, when it would lose its force. In
its turn the quiver is enclosed in the _tchenkop_, a covering of ratan
or palm-fibres woven so intricately as to render it water-tight.

* * * * *

With his blowpipe ready the Sakai penetrates into the forest, creeping
softly among the tall grasses and bushes. No rustling, no crackling of
dry leaves denounces the presence of the man who advances cautiously
under the broad green roof, casting keen and restless glances towards
the branches of the trees. His ear catches the faintest flapping of
wings. From time to time he utters a cry like that of a bird or a
monkey, and quickly a feathered biped, moved by curiosity descends from
a higher to a lower bough; a monkey swings itself down in answer to the
call, or a pretty little head with a sharp nose and bright eyes peeps
out of a hollow in the tree.

[Illustration: Blowpipes, quivers and poisoned arrows.

_p._ 203.]

Very slowly and quietly the Sakai crouches down, lifts his blowpipe and
fixing his eyes upon the black mark he has made at the end of the cane,
he takes a long and steady aim.

The bird and the monkey 30 metres above him are trying to provocate
another cry from the voice they heard before; the squirrel looks puzzled
and uncertain but neither of the three suspects the mortal danger that
awaits them from below.

The Sakai blows into his _blau_, the dart flies out with a slight whiz
and perforates the victim's flesh. There is a cry and a fall, then the
sportsman runs to pick up his prey.

Sometimes a wounded bird will fly away from the spot where