We landed behind a projection of the reef which afforded shelter from the swell, and were met by the headman "Dang,” who brought with him the shipping register.

Some of the buildings were round, others rectangular in shape, and supported by leaning-posts in addition to the piles; and here and there were erected a few slightly carved and painted stumps, draped with bunches of palm leaves.

The headman's house contained small figures of a man, woman, and child, and some painted nuts, also a large mirror in a gilt frame-a useless object probably obtained from the Chinese in return for some thousands of coconuts. We learned that there were many Shom Pen on the neighbouring coast, but that they were very nomadic, and badly disposed towards strangers.

Our talk over, we left the house and rambled about, behind the village, in a plantation of coco palms, bananas, and limes growing in rich alluvial soil; and then, proceeding along the shore, crossed a little stream, and making a détour round a mass of broken rocks, reached a further village of three houses. Here the people were rather nervous at first, especially when asked to stand for their photographs, and needed much reassuring before we got on satisfactory terms; but Jangan takot, kita orang baik (Don't be afraid, we are good men), and similar expressions, before long brought about more friendly relations.

After purchasing a supply of coconuts, limes, and as many chickens as could be obtained, we returned to the schooner and sailed for the north coast of Great Nicobar, known to the natives as "Sambelong," or "Lo-öng."

The bottom

With the wind ahead, it was once more evening before we reached the little bay where we had decided to stop. Anchoring, at first temporarily, at the mouth, in 5 fathoms, the dinghy went off to sound, and ascertain whether we might enter. was sand and coral, and shoaled rapidly, until at the mouth we found a sandbar that almost dried at low tide. Of a village which we expected to see, since it was marked on the chart, there was no trace.

A BAT CAMP

133 On the morning following our arrival, we set to work, on the right shore of the bay, to cut a path up the steep hills which rise immediately from the water. This caused so much noise, however, that nearly every animal and bird was scared from the neighbourhood; and since we could only proceed along the summit of the hills, where such specimens as were shot were in danger of rolling down the steep sides and being lost, after setting a number of traps, we returned to the boat and set out to explore the bay.

The little basin at its head was surrounded by steep hills, but on the right a stream flowed through a gap in the latter. Beyond this the land sank, and opened out into a seemingly interminable mangrove swamp, through which the river wound deviously.

From the mangroves overhanging the stream we obtained several nests of a sunbird (Arachnechthra, sp. nov.). These in shape were something like an old-fashioned net purse, covered with lichen, and were suspended from the ends of branches. The entrance was in the side, and in each we found two pale-brown eggs mottled with a darker pigment.

Half-an-hour's row brought us to the end of navigation, and at that point we met with a vast colony of fruit-bats (Pteropus nicobaricus), occupying the mangroves on either side of the river.

At a small computation, several thousand animals must have been hanging head downwards from the branches, and the surrounding atmosphere was impregnated with the musty odour of their bodies. When we disturbed them, they gave vent to a continuous "skirling" noise, somewhat like the song of cicadas, but less shrill in tone.

By nature they are very fearless, and the majority merely stared inquisitively; a few spread their great wings and flapped heavily away for a short distance, and others crawled actively along the branches back downwards.

All the females carried, clinging to the breast, a young one of about one-third full growth; these the mothers hugged to themselves with a folded wing, but when unsupported, the young found no difficulty in maintaining its position, by means of its excessively

sharp claws and its suction grip on the parent's teat. When the latter crawled about, the baby was supported in the membrane of the wing, which bagged slightly with the weight. I should imagine that it is not thoroughly weaned until the birth of a fresh offspring.

The action of these bats when climbing a vertical branch, is similar to a man's in shinning up a pole. The wings are first raised and a tight grip taken with the claw on the thumb, then the feet are drawn up, and, after they obtain a hold, the wings are once more lifted. When taking to flight, they swing to and fro once or twice, and then let go in a backward direction.

Several were obtained for specimens, and amongst them were two old females, which were shot without damage to the accompanying young. These latter I afterwards attempted to rear. At first they made no effort to escape, but clung tightly to the mother's teat. When they arrived on board, I put them into a box, fitted with a perch, from which they could suspend themselves, but I found they had barely strength to sustain their position by means of the hind feet only.

For food I gave them bananas mashed into a pulp, and a weak solution of condensed milk. The former, after masticating and extracting the juice, they would eject, but the milk was readily lapped up, or sucked from my finger tip.

The two did not agree well, but remained during the day in opposite corners of the box. At night they were very restless and noisy, continually uttering shrill cries, and often fighting. When I had owned them a few days, they escaped one night from their rough cage, and at daybreak were found high in the rigging. Later they escaped again and disappeared; reaching, I believe, the adjacent shore.

After exploring the neighbourhood, we found a good patch of flat jungle on the east shore of the bay, and near the sandbar across the mouth discovered a faint path leading inward. Following this across some damp ground, we saw numerous tracks of men and dogs, which certainly pointed to the presence of Shom Pen, as the Nicobarese said they themselves never went