(60) December 31 The area we have chosen for this trip seems to be excellent judging from the number of bird calls we heard on the way up; plenty of common varieties were seen- mina, kingfishers, shrikes, blackbirds, crows, hornbills, long-tailed doves, red-breasted doves, and gray pigeons. After the day's effort we decided to team up on the climbing, G.R., and myself alternating while the Doc remains in camp to lead in the taxidermy and to be ex cathedra director. In case of a paucity of skins any number of small stuff like white-eyes flycatchers can be taken right around the government rest house. I reached 5200 feet in my first venture and found the avifauna most interesting but intermixed with fog, cold ,and rain. The trail is a goat path with practically no level walking until you reach about 4800 feet. At 3200 there is a little look-out with an admirable view of the surrounding country, the coast, and outlying islands- provided there is no fog. This range of mountains (Kronprinzen Gebirge) runs generally NW X SE draining into precipitous ravines, forming many streams that flow rapidly over rocky bottoms, cold and clear. Along the trail up to Kupei we crossed four good-sized ones; some wonderful scenery, the water tumbling over the edge of great crags and boiling into a shaded caldron below. Real Midsummer Night's Dream bowers with dripping moss and dark, watery caverns. Above the camp the trail winds through thick bush following a giddy ridge that takes you right over the range. Above 4000 there are two additional spots that offer majestic views. Looking straight out- the sea; to the right and left- parallel ridges and the green woods way down. Usually, however not much is visible because of the fog which sifts in ghostly fashion through the dank moss-hung trees, blown by a restless wind. The bush off the trail (and down), which is itself unusually wide, is the most forbidding I have yet encountered. The sloping ground is uneven and full of sink holes, rotting logs and bamboo, and roots. Everything is covered with heavy moss or long-leaf plants and drips cold. Bamboo and tree liana form a fretwork that is often impenetrable. Without these bushmen to retrieve the fallen birds we should lose about a third. Their eyes are marvellous and they can go down a sheer bank with incredible speed where a white man would have difficulty crawling; and they find the bird. Lord, the amount of time I have wasted in fruitless searching on these islands. Even the monkeys (kids) are expert. They beat any dog ever bred. It shows what a relative thing human intelligence is. A question of environment. The plantation manager expects the native to exhibit immediate adaptation to the work on a coconut patch; they invariably tell us that the natives are stupid to the point of imbecility as a race. Certainly untrue. They may be morally deficient, but their mentality is as good as ours for its environment. They have no need to count to a thousand or to register interest in foreign trade when they are at home in their villages. As soon as the white man has to depend upon them for help in the bush he realizes how the native uses his natural environment. He knows the woods and vines that are useful, all birds and animals and their habits, and is thoroughly at home. In this sort of situation the white man stumbles around with only enough sense to ask the native what to do when a puzzle or difficulty arises. We are all victims of the "suspended response" when it comes to mental work. In addition to retrieving they often point out birds sitting that we should never see; and while retrieving the hunter can keep a watch out for others. Among the birds I took to-day were two thrushes; there were about 20 in all. On Jan. 8, 1928 the Doc had a bad dose of gastric malaria. At this time after seven days shooting we had 217 skins representing 33 species.