... three red giant flying-squirrels,
one Thomas' flying squirrel,
one Sunda frogmouth,
and distant eyes which, by colour and intensity, must have belonged to a Bornean slow loris, though we couldn't be sure.
We also heard the sonorous hooting song of a great argus and rounded every bend in the forest track, peering past stands of ginger lilies in the bank, hoping to encounter a cat. That cat.
Fourteen drives to go.
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