of any
sort. The facility with which they form this nest is curious, and I
had an opportunity of seeing a wounded female weave the branches
together and seat herself within a minute."

According to the Dyaks the Orang rarely leaves his bed before the sun
is well above the horizon and has dissipated the mists. He gets up
about nine, and goes to bed again about five; but sometimes not till
late in the twilight. He lies sometimes on his back, or, by way of
change, turns on one side or the other, drawing his limbs up to his
body, and resting his head on his hand. When the night is cold, windy,
or rainy, he usually covers his body with a heap of _pandanus nipa_,
or fern leaves, like those of which his bed is made, and he is
especially careful to wrap up his head in them. It is this habit of
covering himself up which has probably led to the fable that the Orang
builds huts in the trees.

Although the Orang resides mostly amid the boughs of great trees
during the daytime, he is very rarely seen squatting on a thick branch
as other apes, and particularly the Gibbons, do. The Orang, on the
contrary, confines himself to the slender leafy branches, so that he
is seen right at the top of the trees, a mode of life which is closely
related to the constitution of his hinder limbs, and especially to
that of his seat. For this is provided with no callosites such as
are possessed by many of the lower apes, and even by the Gibbons; and
those bones of the pelvis, which are termed the ischia, and which form
the solid framework of the surface on which the body rests in the
sitting posture, are not expanded like those of the apes which possess
callosities, but are more like those of man.

An Orang climbs so slowly and cautiously as, in this act, to resemble
a man more than an ape, taking great care of his feet, so that injury
of them seems to affect him far more than it does other apes. Unlike
the Gibbons, whose forearms do the greater part of the work as they
swing from branch to branch, the Orang never makes even the smallest
jump. In climbing, he moves alternately one hand and one foot, or,
after having laid fast hold with the hands, he draws up both feet
together. In passing from one tree to another he always seeks out a
place where the twigs of both come close together, or interlace. Even
when closely pursued, his circumspection is amazing; he shakes the
branches to see if they will bear him, and then bending an overhanging
bough do