CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
A SPECTACLE RARELY SEEN.
When the huge reptile first unfolded itself to their view, it was already close to the spot where the ourang-outang, knee-deep in the water, stood awaiting it.

They naturally expected to see the land animal effect a retreat from an antagonist even more formidable-looking than itself.
And in reality it did give ground at first; but only for a few long scrambling strides, made as much on its arms as legs--just far enough to place itself high and dry upon the bank.

There it came to a stop, and stood firmly facing the foe.
They now perceived the truth of what Saloo had been telling them: that there is no animal in all Borneo, either in its forests or its rivers, of which the mias feels fear.

Certainly there is none more to be dreaded than the gavial crocodile; yet the great ape, judging by its present attitude, was in no sense afraid of it.

Had it been so, it would have retreated into the woods, where, by climbing a tree, it might easily have shunned the encounter.