We spent the next two weeks in trapping and snaring, and I kept the men of the kampong busy all the time, either at collecting the animals or at building cages for them. I was fortunate enough to get one proboscis monkey. It is a rare, long-nosed species, difficult to capture. My standing orders from zoölogical gardens all over the world always included one of these creatures, but this was the only one I ever caught. We found him hopelessly tangled in a net we had put up near a watering place. He was a fine specimen, two feet high, with long arms, legs and tail, and a nose that measured two inches.
Netting animals in the way in which we caught this monkey is one of the easiest and best modes of collecting. The size of the net and of the meshes will depend entirely upon what one hopes to capture. Our nets varied from eight feet square to fifteen feet long by ten feet wide. The meshes measured from two to four inches. The net is placed at a spot where animals are sure to pass; it is suspended across the trail and held in place by light bamboo poles. Leaves and grass are scattered over it until it cannot be distinguished from the ground. When an animal steps into it, the net falls and he begins to struggle instead of quietly, working his way out. Within a minute he has himself so tangled in the meshes that it is sometimes necessary to cut the net to get him out. One great advantage connected with this method of trapping is that the animal is never injured; he simply wears himself out and then, exhausted, stays in the net until some one comes along to release him. A cat animal, for example, comes running into a net; its feet catch and it goes tumbling, rolling over and over, roaring and pawing. In a few seconds it becomes so tangled that it cannot move an inch. Its cries bring the men who have been posted as lookouts, and they carry it back to the kampong on poles.
Contrary to the general idea, cat animals, such as tigers and leopards, are the easiest to catch in traps as well as nets. The work is as simple as baiting a rat-trap and it requires little sagacity. A box-trap with a spring-door will make a catch time after time, with no more trouble than transferring the animal to a transportation cage and rebaiting the trap with a chicken or a small goat. It is wise to allow a fairly long runway between door and bait so that the captive will not be injured when the door springs shut. After recovering from the surprise of finding itself trapped, the animal eats the bait, which supplies it with food until the natives come along on their regular tours of inspection. It is just routine work, involving but little excitement.
Among the animals we captured while working from Omar's kampong were three gibbons, or wahwahs. These are also known as flying gibbons, because they make such long leaps from tree to tree. They are a tailless breed of monkey, rather rare and extremely difficult to catch. Once captured, they become affectionate pets and they command a good price for that reason. They have soft, downy, light brown, silver-gray or yellow hair, black faces and large, round, expressive eyes.
The work of trapping and snaring went along steadily during the ten days I spent with Omar. By; the time the orang-outangs were ready to travel, we had three gibbons, four baby orang-outangs, one proboscis-monkey, ten black monkeys, eighteen long-tailed monkeys, twenty-two pig-tailed monkeys, three pythons, which averaged eight feet in length, two sambur deer, one sun-bear, three wildcats, four civet-cats, four porcupines, one ant-eater and two armadillos.
We slipped the bars over the open ends of the cages in which the big fellows were to travel, and lashed them securely with rattan ropes. Since the boats at the kampong were too small, I had two large rafts made of bamboo and I placed all the cages on them.
When everything was ready, we boarded the boats and rafts and started down the river. The people lined the banks, shouting and wishing us a safe journey; others followed us in boats. At each village, the natives swarmed out to see the animals and wish us luck. I can still hear them calling: "Tûan, bîla bâlik? Salâm-at jalân! (Sir, when will you come back? Safe journey!)"
We stopped at Mahommed Munshee's village, and then at Sintang. I found that Dr. Van Erman had gone down to Pontianak. Another swarm of natives met us when we arrived there, and I had to station my men around the rafts to keep them from coming aboard.
Leaving Ali in charge of the animals, I went ashore and found that a steamer was sailing for Singapore the next morning. I made arrangements for shipping, and then went to the Resident's house to pay my respects. Dr. Van Erman was there and, after luncheon, I took the Resident and the doctor out to see my catch. The Resident was profuse in his congratulations and he confirmed my belief that the orang-outangs were the largest ever captured in Borneo.
Omar and Munshee assisted in the work of loading the crates on the steamer, because they felt that their obligation to me did not end until we had the animals clear of Borneo. I felt, of course, that I was under obligation to them for all the fine work they and their people had done for me, and I wanted them to accept some money for their services. They refused at first but finally they gave in. From their point of view, they had made sufficient profit, merely in prestige, both with their own people and with the Resident. I made them my agents in their districts and took them with me to the offices of the steamship company while I arranged to have any animals they brought to Pontianak shipped to me at Singapore. When we sailed the next day, they were in their boats alongside, waving and yelling.