a, but in Borneo I found a ripe fruit on the ground,
and, eating it out of doors, I at once became a confirmed Durian-eater!"

This was exactly the experience of Nigel Roy that day, and the way in
which the fruit came to him was also an experience, but of a very
different sort. It happened just as they were looking about for a
suitable spot on which to rest and eat their mid-day meal. Verkimier
was in front with the orang-utan reaching up to his arm and hobbling
affectionately by his side--for there was a strong mutual affection
between them. The Dyak youth brought up the rear, with a sort of
game-bag on his shoulders.

Suddenly Nigel felt something graze his arm, and heard a heavy thud at
his side. It was a ripe Durian which had fallen from an immense height
and missed him by a hairbreadth.

"Zank Got, you have escaped!" exclaimed the professor, looking back with
a solemn countenance.

"I have indeed escaped what might have been a severe blow," said Nigel,
stooping to examine the fruit, apparently forgetful that more might
follow.

"Come--come avay. My boy vill bring it. Men are sometimes killed by
zis fruit. Here now ve vill dine."

They sat down on a bank which was canopied by ferns. While the boy was
arranging their meal, Verkimier drew a heavy hunting-knife from his belt
and, applying it with an unusually strong hand to the Durian, laid it
open. Nigel did not at all relish the smell, but he was not fastidious
or apt to be prejudiced. He tasted--and, like Mr Wallace, "became a
confirmed Durian-eater" from that day.

"Ve draw near to zee region vere ve shall find zee bootterflies," said
the naturalist, during a pause in their luncheon.

"I hope we shall be successful," said Nigel, helping himself to some
more of what may be styled Durian cream. "To judge from the weight and
hardness of this fruit, I should think a blow on one's head from it
would be fatal."

"Sometimes, not always. I suppose zat Dyak skulls are strong. But zee
wound is terrible, for zee spikes tear zee flesh dreadfully. Zee Dyak
chief, Rajah, with whom I dwell joost now, was floored once by one, and
he expected to die--but he did not. He is alife ant vell, as you shall
see."

As he spoke a large butterfly fluttered across the scene of their
festivities. With all the energy of his enthusiastic spirit and strong
muscular frame the naturalist leaped up, overturned his dinner, rushed
after the coveted specimen, tripped over a