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We were all out in the back yard in working clothes this morning, busy feeding animals, when a very dressy crowd of half-educated Bataks came through, immaculate in white duck, and holding handkerchiefs over their noses. If we went through a Batak kampong in the same disdainful way, there would be some sense to it, for the kampongs are fulthy; but Jennier and Davis accomplish marvels in keeping our place clean and odorless, considering the number of animals we have, and how their cages vary from day to day.

It was a great pleasure to have among our visitors, two Americans - the Banghams from Dolok Merangir. They were on their way to Wingfoot. One curious incident of the morning was that a Dutchman turned up, with some story about his coffee plantation in Atjeh. He spoke no English, we spoke no Dutch. Both the Banghams and the Dutchman speak fluent Malay, but it wouldn't have done to address [[underline]] him [[/underline]] in the language one uses to converse with servants. Occasionally Mrs. Bangham would put in a Malay word, but always with an apology for using Malay to him.

We lunched at the Coenraads' - split pea soup with all the Dutch trimmings.

At four-thirty Bill left for Belawan, to meet the Brues' who are coming in to-morrow. I spent the evening and the night with the Coenraads, as the small town gossips around here might think it funny if I stayed in camp while my husband is away.

May 24 -

Back to camp early, to supervise the cleaning and furnishing of the room intended for Tommie and Beirne. I bought two sarongs for window curtains; they don't match, and they are not the right length, but they lend "atmosphere" to an otherwise rather plain little room. Two cots, a table, a wardrobe, their own bathroom, a verandah with two chairs - after all, what more does anyone want in camp?

Williams spent the morning here photographing. Baby bears, tigers, gibbons, anoas - all good subjects.

Bill and Tommie and Beirne showed up about five-thirty, and it certainly was grand to see them. Bill had told them all sorts of wild tales about our primitive little hut in the jungle, and when they saw the arcaded magnificence of our Roemah Sakit, they were both impressed and disappointed. This is not their idea of roughing it.

May 27 - 

The Brueses and ourselves started out in the morning, by car, for the nearest patch of jungle we have heard of. We drove three kilometers along the Medan road, turned off on a dirt road which we followed for five kms., and drew up at the house of a Mr. Mathew, a half-caste who has bringing us some animals. Back of his house the jungle begins, and we walked along the edge of it for a mile or more, everybody busy collecting insects. Then the road turned and went straight through the jungle, bringing us eventually to a rushing little stream. Ants collected by