These leaves belonged to a sort of palm called the Mungkuang.

Near the stem they are five inches broad, but their length is about twelve feet, and as the stream is scarcely more than nine feet wide, they reached right across it.
The natural beauty of the scene was so great, however, that these occasional obstructions, so far from diminishing, actually heightened the charm of the whole.

The forest was full of the most luxuriant underwood, creepers, palms, and fern plants; the latter, in many instances sixteen feet high, proved a no less effectual screen against the burning rays of the sun than did the palms and other trees.
My previous satisfaction was greatly augmented on seeing several apes skipping about on the highest branches of the trees, while others were heard chattering in our immediate vicinity.

This was the first time I had seen these animals in a state of perfect freedom, and I secretly felt very much delighted that the gentlemen with me did not succeed in shooting any of the mischievous little creatures: they brought down, however, a few splendid lories (a sort of small parrot of the most beautiful plumage) and some squirrels.

But our attention was soon attracted by a much more serious object.