Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-03-15

Well I certainly shed an Illusion then; but
I still maintain that for sheer thrills, Dusun
python hunt is the finest sport in the world.
On the Python River, however thrills and
hazards were not restricted to big snake hunt
ing. Navigation provided us with plenty of ex-
citing moments we negotiated the difficult
upper reaches, where began to encounter the
roaring cataracts and lesser waterfalls by which
this river makes its way down to the sea. Here,
indeed, were scenes Of rare and majestic Splen-
dor-yet they soon lost their charm, for over
every enc of them We were obliged to man.
handle dug-outS and stores. hauling and showing
them up and over the sheer streaming rocks.
It was like making ascent of giant stair
case. At each climb We found the higher levels
of the water running broad and deep. The
jungle thinned and we emerged from the twi-
light of the Borneo forests into sunshine.
NEAR the rapids we found some ugly water
always but my stout Dusun boatmen never
put a paddle wrong, nor showed the flicker Of
an eyelash; they do say, in Borneo that Dusun
viii pilot his dug-out anywhere on the rivers
where fish can swim. They were great little
men, all of them, of whom wildly remember
a quiet, modest, little chap called Adjac.
Adjao champion python hunter, the
same husky sportsman who beat up the 12-
footer that escaped. persuaded him to pose
for my camera one day, and still have the
snapshot AS a specimen of photography it
isn't too good. The picture is family blurred
because the champion python hunter was too
nervous to keep still. He was scared of the
cameras eye. He stood like bashful school,
girl, half smiling, with downcast lasheS, but
coiled around Adjao's neck were a brace o.
pythcns he had killed with his parang.
noted-their measurements on the back CT the
print-9 feet and 10 inches and 10 feet and
inches. L have seen Adjso whack a kissing
python out of its tree nest into the river below
and dive after it SO swiftly as to hit the water
almost as soon as the snake. He was always
the first to grab his python and-if the hunt
erS had caught tartar-the last to let go.
Adjao certainly goes into my portrait gallery
of the jungle's best people. This little DuSun
sportsman owes nothing to any gentleman on
the score of courage and modesty.
I distinctly remember his chagTin day
when I refused to step and allow him to fight
an unusually truculent snake that reared up
angrily as we passed below its tree nest, opened
its big yellow mouth and let ny a venomoUs
hiss. Adjao no doubt, took that as an insolent
defiance which was not to be endured by any
python hunter worth his salt His eyes
snapped onto that snake wickedly, and for a
moment he looked more like some wild animal
from the jungle than a human being. His
facial expression said more plainly than if he
had spoken: "Ill fight you for that" But I
was in a hurry to get to our next camping
ground. And Adjao had already had enough
fights that day to last any ordinary man for
a month. So said INC" And when the
Tuan said no Adjao knew that he meant it
and accepted the inevitable. but with an air
OF deepest chagrin, glancing Sullenly blck-
ward lingering the handle of his parang One
rather gathered that never before had python
been saucy to Adjao and lived to tell the tale.
But he managed a smile when gave him a
CHEEKY word or two. We were always good
friends, Adjao and L
soon began to realize that my explorations
up the Python River were imposing too much
upon my willing Dusuns. The ardu1us passage
of cataract after cataract, ever climbing TO a
high level, alternated now with fresh kind
of obstruction of the fairway-again and again
our progress was barred by great trees that
had fallen across the river. Some we were
able to drag out of our way, others were prac-
tically immcVable, and so we had to haul our