When the lamp outside the tent door was extinguished, and
all was enveloped in darkness and fog to an overwhelming degree, a feeling
of loneliness and desolation stole over me, though it soon left me when I
thought of the glories of the coming day, when all the rain would be
forgotten.
Shortly after sunset one evening scores of thousands of ants descended
upon me while supper was in progress. In the dim light afforded by the
lamp I had not perceived their approach until I felt them around my feet.
Upon looking about, I discovered to my astonishment that the floor, which
had a covering of closely set bamboo stalks, was black with ants and that
regiments of them were busily climbing up my bed. Coming in such immense
numbers and unannounced, their appearance was startling. Outside the soil
seemed to move. Twice before I had received visits from these ants but had
prevented their entering the tent by pouring hot water over them. The pain
caused by their bite is severe, although of short duration, and they are
therefore feared by the Dayaks and Malays.
By liberal application of hot water and burning paper on the ground we
finally succeeded in driving the unwelcome visitors out of the tent; but
new hordes were constantly arriving, and we battled for two hours before I
could retire, carrying many bites as souvenirs. None were then in the tent
and next day not a trace of them remained. The Chinese photographer had
been there twenty minutes before the raid began and had not noticed even
one ant. The attack began as suddenly as it ceased.
My stay on the Kayan River had been interesting as well as profitable.
Twice during that period requests had come from the government for Dayaks
willing to join a Dutch enterprise operating in northern New Guinea, and
the chances of my securing sufficient men on this river for my expedition
were evidently gone. However, with the assistance of the government I felt
sure there would be no difficulty in securing them from other rivers of
Dutch Borneo, but I deemed it wise to begin my return trip.
The river was now so swollen that it was difficult to effect a departure,
and current report indicated that if the rain continued it might be
necessary to wait a month before the rapids below could be passed. I had
all my belongings packed in order to be ready to start whenever it was
found advisable to do so. While waiting I went over to the kampong to
kinematograph two dancing girls who the day before, owing to their
bashfulness, had detained us so long that the light became inadequate. At
last the river fell about a metre during the night, and the chief and his
brother called on me early in the morning to suggest that our best plan
would be to start in the middle of the day.
