literally in their own ancestral tree. Their house was not wholly
bad, but it might have been 100 per cent better. It was merely a
platform of small poles, placed like a glorified bird's nest in
the spreading forks of a many-branched tree, about twenty feet
from the ground. The main supports were bark-lashed to the large
branches of the family tree. Over this there was a rude roof of
long grass, which had a fairly intelligent slope. As a shelter
from rain, the Jackoon house left much to be desired. The scanty
loin cloths of the habitants knew no such thing as wash-day or
line. With all its drawbacks, however, this habitation was far
more adequate to the needs of its builders than the cold brush
rabbit-forms of the Patagonian canoe Indians.

We now come to a tribe which has reduced the problem of housing
and home life to its lowest common denominator. The Poonans of
Central Borneo, discovered and described by Carl Bock, build _no
houses of any kind,_ not even huts of green branches; and their
only overture toward the promotion of personal comfort in the home
is a five-foot grass mat spread upon the sodden earth, to lie upon
when at rest. And this, in a country where in the so-called "dry
season" it rains half the time, and in the "wet season" all the
time.

The Poonans have rudely-made spears for taking the wild pig, deer
and smaller game, their clothes consist of bark cloth, around the
loins only. They know no such thing as agriculture, and they live
off the jungle.

It was said some years ago that a similarly primitive jungle tribe
of Ceylon, known as the Veddahs, could count no more than five,