Eighty three year old elder, one of two remaining in Kampong Danu, under an hours drive west of Kuching… regrettably, many of the Kampongs have lost their last generation of story tellers and musicians. He could recall only one folk tale, that of a village that had entirely vanished leaving only a stone that is said to be a woman that had turned to stone.
He could, however, remember, as a very young man, seeing deer eat flower buds from his house of an evening… shine a torch out the door and animals would be every where… The land was abundant then. He had also worked for the Japanese, building an airstrip for a few cents a day.
He also remembered playing in the caves as a child. There are large caves in that area, within an hours walk or so from Kampong Danu, some of which take one from one side of the mountain, visible from the Kampong, to the other.