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at the place where we had last collected yesterday, and found them on the ground. They had fallen out of his pocket when he leaned over to look for a Polyrachus nest. So with much rejoicing we drove on, heading for Bangkinang, but stopping to collect wherever the country looked inviting. Bill found a large number of horned flies, the first time he has ever taken them (except for the two he got at Dolok Silau), and also got a leech in his butterfly net. We found enormous pitcher plants growing along the cliff that lined the road, and near them stalactites formed by the constant dripping of limestone over the bank. What looked like the work of an industrious spittle insect, turned out to be a mass of frog eggs when we opened it. It is not always easy to do roadside collecting here. Only rarely is there a trail into the woods. In many places the road has been cut through the mountains, and  the roadside is a steep bank that nobody could climb. It is kept well cleared, and here and there one sees ladders propped against the bank, for the use of the men that cut back the vegetation that otherwise would hang over and block the highway.

A curious ferry took us across the river before we got to Bankinang. Pontoons were built on three small boats. [[strikethrough]] A cable ran from one boat to a [[/strikethrough]] A heavy rope fastened the boats to a cable that crossed the river. The current was exceedingly strong, and the boats were pointed upstream against the current. As we pushed off, after loading our car gingerly on the ferry which was just barely big enough to take it, the current swept us down, the boats pointed up, the rope kept us even, and we moved across on a smooth diagonal, that made one actually dizzy trying to figure out the mathematics of it - simple enough diagrammatically, but most confusing to watch.

At Bankinang we lunched at the Pasanggrahan, and Bill and Tommie went to call on the Controller, to ask him where we could get into the jungle to collect. He advised a spot some twenty kms. farther on, and told them some good tiger stories. They have been having a lot of trouble with tigers in these parts, partly due to the clearing that is being done in abandoned rubber plantations. Rubber is going up in price, old plantations are to be worked again, there is an increase in the amount of kampong rubber. So the tigers are driven out into the open. Thirteen caribou have been killed by tigers near here in the last three weeks. On the floor of the Controller's house was the skin of a tiger he had shot, after it had killed three men. We went on, hoing that we would see tiger, elephant, or rhinoceros, but the big game is pretty shy. We did see Entellus monkeys, wild pigs, a hornbill in flight with his grotesquely long neck stretched out like that of a goose, drongoes, and kingfishers. Collecting was bad. The forests we were looking for were miles of neglected rubber estates, the swamps were active rice fields.

It was late when we returned to Moeara Mahat, and we sat on the verandah waiting for a dinner equal to last night's. The young Mandoer did not understand, and about eight o'clock ventured out to ask if we wanted any food. We hastily picked out an ill assortment of cans, and dined in a tired and somewhat disappointed mood.