The houses and furniture are on a par with the food. A rude shed， supported on rough and slender sticks rather than posts， no walls， but the floor raised to within a foot of the eaves， is the style of architecture they usually adopt. Inside there are partition walls of thatch， forming little boxes or sleeping places， to accommodate the two or three separate families that usually live together. A few mats， baskets， and cooking vessels， with plates and basins purchased from the Macassar traders， constitute their whole furniture； spears and bows are their weapons； a sarong or mat forms the clothing of the women， a waistcloth of the men. For hours or even for days they sit idle in their houses， the women bringing in the vegetables or sago which form their food. Sometimes they hunt or fish a little， or work at their houses or canoes， but they seem to enjoy pure idleness， and work as little as they can. They have little to vary the monotony of life， little that can be called pleasure， except idleness and conversation. And they certainly do talk！
Every evening there is a little Babel around me： but as Iunderstand not a word of it， I go on with my book or work undisturbed. Now and then they scream and shout， or laugh frantically for variety； and this goes on alternately with vociferous talking of men， women， and children， till long after Iam in my mosquito curtain and sound asleep.
At this place I obtained some light on the complicated mixture of races in Aru， which would utterly confound an ethnologist. Many of the， natives， though equally dark with the others， have little of the Papuan physiognomy， but have more delicate features of the European type， with more glossy， curling hair： These at first quite puzzled me， for they have no more resemblance to Malay than to Papuan， and the darkness of skin and hair would forbid the idea of Dutch intermixture. Listening to their conversation， however， I detected some words that were familiar to me. "Accabó"was one； and to be sure that it was not an accidental resemblance， I asked the speaker in Malay what "accabó" meant， and was told it meant "done or finished，" a true Portuguese word， with its meaning retained. Again， I heard the word "jafui" often repeated， and could see， without inquiry， that its meaning was "he's gone，" as in Portuguese. "Porco，" too， seems a common name， though the people have no idea of its European meaning. This cleared up the difficulty. I at once understood that some early Portuguese traders had penetrated to these islands， and mixed with the natives， influencing their language， and leaving in their descendants for many generations the visible characteristics of their race. If to this we add the occasional mixture of Malay， Dutch， and Chinese with the indigenous Papuans， we have no reason to wonder at the curious varieties of form and feature occasionally to be met with in Aru. In this very house there was a Macassar man， with an Aru wife and a family of mixed children. In Dobbo I saw a Javanese and an Amboyna man， each with an Aru wife and family； and as this kind of mixture has been going on for at least three hundred years， and probably much longer， it has produced a decided effect on the physical characteristics of a considerable portion of the population of the islands， more especially in Dobbo and the parts nearest to it.
March 28th.--The "Orang-kaya" being very ill with fever had begged to go home， and had arranged with one of the men of the house to go on with me as his substitute. Now that I wanted to move， the bugbear of the pirates was brought up， and it was pronounced unsafe to go further than the next small river. This world not suit me， as I had determined to traverse the channel called Watelai to the "blakang-tana；" but my guide was firm in his dread of pirates， of which I knew there was now no danger， as several vessels had gone in search of them， as well as a Dutch gunboat which had arrived since I left Dobbo. I had， fortunately， by this time heard that the Dutch "Commissie" had really arrived， and therefore threatened that if my guide did not go with me immediately， I would appeal to the authorities， and he would certainly be obliged to gig a back the cloth which the "Orang-kaya" had transferred to him in prepayment. This had the desired effect； matters were soon arranged， and we started the next morning. The wind， however， was dead against us， and after rowing hard till midday we put in to a small river where there were few huts， to cook our dinners. The place did not look very promising， but as we could not reach our destination， the Watelai river， owing to the contrary wind， I thought we might as well wait here a day or two. I therefore paid a chopper for the use of a small shed， and got my bed and some boxes on shore. In the evening， after dark， we were suddenly alarmed by the cry of "Bajak！ bajak！" (Pirates！) The men all seized their bows and spears， and rushed down to the beach； we got hold of our guns and prepared for action， but in a few minutes all came back laughing and chattering， for it had proved to be only a small boat and some of their own comrades returned from fishing. When all was quiet again， one of the men， who could speak a little Malay， came to me and begged me not to sleep too hard. "Why？" said I. "Perhaps the pirates may really come，" said he very seriously， which made me laugh and assure him I should sleep as hard as I could.
