44705	----	PROCEEDINGS OF THE WASHINGTON ACADEMY OF SCIENCES VOL. III, PP. 111-138. MARCH 26, 1901 MAMMALS COLLECTED BY DR. W. L. ABBOTT ON THE NATUNA ISLANDS. BY GERRIT S. MILLER, JR. About three months during the spring and summer of 1900 were spent by Dr. W. L. Abbott in exploring the Natuna Islands in the South China Sea.[1] Specimens were collected at the following localities: Pulo Midei, or Low Island (May 23-26), Pulo Seraia (May 29), Sirhassen Island (June 1-10), Pulo Subi (June 12-13), Pulo Lingung (June 17-19), Bunguran, or Great Natuna Island (June 24-July 31) and Pulo Laut, or North Natuna Island (August 5-13). About 265 mammals were obtained, all of which have been presented to the United States National Museum. This paper contains an account of these, and is published here by permission of the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. Two extensive collections of mammals had been made on the Natuna Islands previous to Dr. Abbott's visit, the first by Mr. A. Everett during September and October, 1893, the second by Mr. Ernest Hose during July, August, September and October, 1894. These have formed, either wholly or in part, the basis of several papers,[2] which constitute the literature relating to the mammals of the islands.[3] Twenty-eight land mammals have been recorded as actually represented by specimens, though several others are mentioned which the collectors ascertained to occur. Dr. Abbott secured forty-four species, but failed to obtain seven[4] of those previously taken. The total number of mammals collected on the islands thus becomes fifty-one. This increase is due, in part to the recognition of a larger number of insular forms than has been admitted by previous writers, but also to a considerable extent to the actual addition of species not hitherto taken. Species new in the latter sense are distinguished in the present paper by absence of reference to previous records. In regard to the faunal relationships of the Natunas, whether predominantly Bornean or Peninsular, about which much has been written,[5] it may be said that this collection, together with much of the other work recently done by Dr. Abbott, tends to show that there is greater general uniformity in the mammalian fauna of Borneo, the Malay Peninsula, and the intervening islands than has been hitherto supposed. It seems unprofitable therefore to offer conjectures as to the probability of greater nearness of the Natuna mammals as a whole to those of Borneo or to those of the Malay Peninsula. MANIS JAVANICA Desmarest. 1895. _Manis javanica_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 492. December, 1895 (Bunguran). An adult male was taken on Bunguran, June 24, 1900. Total length 914; head and body 508; tail 406. TRAGULUS BUNGURANENSIS sp. nov. _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104604 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Bunguran Island, North Natunas, July 9, 1900. Original number, 547. _Characters._--Color pattern essentially as in _Tragulus nigricans_ Thomas, from Balabac. Size equal to that of _T. canescens_ from the Malay Peninsula, therefore much greater than in the Balabac animal. _Color._--Back uniform ochraceous, fading to buff on sides, the hairs everywhere gray at base. Both back and sides everywhere darkened by black hair tips, but these never sufficiently abundant to produce a dark shading in excess of the ochraceous. The relative proportion of the dark wash to the light under color is precisely the same as in _Tragulus canescens_ and _T. napu_ (from Linga Island) but the black is less conspicuous than in the Bornean form of _T. napu_. Legs, except white area on inner side, like back but slightly brighter and less shaded with black. Entire dorsal and lateral surface of neck clear black to base of hairs, a few ochraceous specks visible on close scrutiny, particularly at sides near throat markings. On shoulders this black area fades abruptly into color of back; on head it passes forward between ears and eyes nearly to muzzle. Cheek, region between eye and ear, and line extending forward over eye to muzzle and separating black median stripe from naked loral space, ochraceous, essentially like that of legs. Throat markings as in _Tragulus nigricans_, but white stripes apparently even more restricted. Region occupied by posterior white stripes black, continuous with that of neck, but distinctly speckled with ochraceous. Region occupied by anterior stripes ochraceous, continuous with that of cheeks and somewhat less pure and more speckled with black. White stripes as follows: (_a_) One on each side of naked chin area. These are about 50 mm. in length and never more than 10 mm. in breadth, but occasionally so narrow as to break up into two or more spots. They are separated from naked chin patch by an ochraceous stripe slightly broader than the white. Chin area narrowly and discontinuously bordered with white, especially in front. (_b_) Two posterior lateral stripes varying from 50 mm. to 80 mm. in length, and never more than 12 mm. wide. They are strongly convergent anteriorly, and sometimes nearly joined together in front by a median spot. These white stripes are always separated from the anterior stripes by an ochraceous median area varying from 10 mm. to 25 mm. in width. (_c_) A median stripe lying between the posterior lateral stripes. Posteriorly this stripe is as wide as the lateral stripes, but it quickly narrows and sometimes disappears at middle of latter, though usually represented again by the median spot already referred to. In none of the specimens is this stripe broad and continuous anteriorly to level of front of lateral stripes as in Nehring's figure of the throat markings of _T. nigricans_.[6] Collar narrow, ochraceous grizzled with black. It is seldom more than 25 mm. in width; therefore much narrower than indicated by Nehring's figure. Behind the collar is a whitish gray median area continuous laterally with narrow light stripe down inner side of fore legs. This light area is sometimes divided by a dark median line joining collar with buff of belly. Belly and chest buff, essentially like that of sides, with which it forms no contrast in color. As on the sides the buff is clouded by black hair tips, but the hairs are scarcely if at all gray at base. On chest the dark hair tips tend to form a median stripe, which is sometimes sharply defined and continuous with the ochraceous line occasionally dividing white of breast. A clear whitish area slightly larger and better defined than that of breast occupies region between hind legs. It is continuous with white stripe down inner side of hind legs. This stripe is usually divided on thigh by encroachment of the surrounding ochraceous. Tail silky white below and at tip, essentially like back above. _Skull._--The skull of _Tragulus bunguranensis_ fully equals that of _T. canescens_ in size, and distinctly exceeds that of the Bornean form of _T. napu_. It is much larger than that of _T. nigricans_, which proves to be a medium sized species like _T. rufulus_. In general form the skull agrees so closely with that of _Tragulus canescens_ that it is only to be distinguished by its slightly greater relative breadth and smaller, less inflated audital bullæ. As compared with the skull of _Tragulus nigricans_,[7] that of _T. bunguranensis_ is much larger (distance from back of occiput to front of canine 103 instead of 92, zygomatic breadth 53 instead of 45), and the braincase is more conspicuously ridged for muscular attachment. That part of the braincase immediately above posterior root of zygoma is more conspicuously inflated. Otherwise I can detect no salient differences in the skulls of the two animals. _Teeth._--The teeth are uniformly larger than those of _Tragulus nigricans_, but in form they present no characters of importance. As compared with _T. canescens_ the premolars both above and below are conspicuously more robust, a character in which the Bunguran animal agrees with the Bornean form of _Tragulus napu_. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 647; head and body 571; tail vertebræ 76; hind foot 146; hind foot without hoofs 128. Average and extremes of five adults from the type locality: total length 643 (628-673); head and body 566 (558-584); tail vertebræ 77 (70-89); hind foot 142 (140-146); hind foot without hoofs 126 (124-128). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 114; basal length 107; basilar length 100; occipito-nasal length 106; length of nasals 32; diastema 13 (9);[8] zygomatic breadth 52 (46); least interorbital breadth 33 (28); greatest breadth of braincase above base of zygomata 38 (33); mandible 91 (78); maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 38 (34); mandibular toothrow (alveoli) 44 (39); anterior upper premolar 7 × 3.8 (6.4 × 3); middle lower premolar 7.2 × 3 (5.8 × 2.4). _Weight._--Weight of type 3.8 kg.; of two other males 3.6 kg. each. Two adult females weigh respectively 3.6 kg. and 4.2 kg. _Specimens examined._--Six, all from the type locality. _Remarks._--_Tragulus bunguranensis_ is so distinct from the other known species as to require no detailed comparisons. TRAGULUS sp. Two specimens from Sirhassen Island are too immature for determination. Apparently they represent a member of the _napu_ group, allied to that occurring in Borneo. The throat markings show no approach to those of _Tragulus bunguranensis_. TRAGULUS JAVANICUS (Gmelin). 1894. _Tragulus javanicus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 660. September, 1864 (Bunguran). 1895. _Tragulus javanicus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 492. December, 1895 (part, specimens from Bunguran). Six specimens from Bunguran. TRAGULUS PALLIDUS sp. nov. 1895. _Tragulus javanicus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 492. December, 1895 (part, specimen from Pulo Laut). _Type._--Adult female (skin and skull) No. 104616 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Pulo Laut, North Natuna Islands, August 11, 1900. Original number 625. _Characters._--Smaller than _Tragulus javanicus_ from Borneo or Bunguran and very pale in color. Black clouding of upper parts inconspicuous, but dark nape band well defined. _Color._--Back and sides light ochraceous-buff everywhere clouded by the blackish hair-tips, but these never in excess, except perhaps along middle of back and across lumbar region. Flanks, shoulders, neck, outer surface of legs and narrow line dividing color of sides from that of belly pale ochraceous. Nape band clear black, sharply defined from color of sides but quickly fading into that of shoulders. Top of head dull dark brown. A faint pale stripe over and in front of eye. Throat markings normal, the dark bands like neck. Collar very narrow. Under parts and inner surface of legs white. A faint yellowish shade along middle of belly. Tail white beneath and at the tip, ochraceous faintly shaded with brown above. _Skull._--The skull of the type, though fully adult and with all the teeth distinctly worn, is smaller than in Bunguran specimens so young that the posterior molars are still below the rim of the alveoli. In form, however, it shows no marked peculiarities, though in general it appears to be somewhat broader in proportion to its length than that of the Bunguran animal. _Teeth._--Teeth as in specimens of _Tragulus javanicus_ from Bunguran except that the premolars, both above and below, are shorter and broader, a difference which may prove to be an individual peculiarity only. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: Total length 539; head and body 444; tail vertebræ 95; hind foot 107; hind foot without hoofs 95. Cranial measurements of type: Greatest length 90 (94[9]); basal length 83 (87); basilar length 78 (82); occipito-nasal length 83 (89); length of nasals 25 (29.6); diastema 9.2 (9.8); zygomatic breadth 41.4 (40); least interorbital breadth 26.4 (25); breadth of braincase over roots of zygomata 29.4 (28.4); mandible 72 (75); maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 31.6 (34); first upper premolar 6.4 × 2.8 (7 × 2.6); mandibular toothrow (alveoli) 35.8 (38). _Specimens examined._--One, the type. _Remarks._--This is a pallid form of _Tragulus javanicus_, a species which apparently shows very little tendency to become differentiated into local races. The characters of the Pulo Laut animal were pointed out by Thomas and Hartert in 1895. SUS NATUNENSIS sp. nov. 1894. _Sus_ sp. THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 660. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Sus_ sp. THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 492. December, 1895 (Bunguran). _Type._--Adult female (skin and skull) No. 104856 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Pulo Laut, North Natuna Islands, August 6, 1900. Original number 609. _Characters._--Externally much like the Tenasserim form of _Sus cristatus_, but smaller; body brownish in marked contrast with black legs and face; skull conspicuously shorter and broader. _Fur._--The fur throughout consists of bristles with no admixture of softer hairs. The bristles are everywhere less stiff than in the Tenasserim pig, but the difference is most noticeable in the mane, which, though well developed (about 80 mm. in length), is composed of bristles very slightly coarser than those of the surrounding parts, and of not more than half the diameter of the corresponding hairs in females of _S. cristatus_. Muzzle, chest, belly and ears nearly bare. _Color._--General color black, clear and unmixed with brown on legs, throat, and face, but elsewhere heavily overlaid with brownish buff, particularly on back and sides. The brownish wash ceases abruptly just in front of ears, leaving the face and cheeks clear black. A conspicuous dull buff streak 100 mm. long and about half as wide at middle extends back from angle of mouth to level of posterior canthus of eye. It is sharply outlined above by black of cheeks, and below by that of chin. A faint buffy mark beneath eye. Tail like back. _Skull._--The skull while much shorter than that of _Sus cristatus_ from Tenasserim is actually broader. As a result the width across postorbital processes is contained only about three times in occipito-nasal length, as opposed to nearly four times in the related species. Similarly the zygomatic breadth slightly exceeds one half of the basilar length, while in _Sus cristatus_ it is less than half. Width of palate between middle molars almost exactly one sixth distance from posterior edge of palate to front of premaxillaries (measured along median line). In _Sus cristatus_ the palatal width is contained nearly seven times in the same distance. Dorsal profile of skull slightly concave near base of nasals. Zygomata heavier and deeper than in _Sus cristatus_. Audital bullæ noticeably smaller and less inflated than in the Tenasserim pig. Mandible shorter and much more robust than that of _Sus cristatus_, the outward bulge of the ramus a little behind middle of toothrow greatly accentuated. _Teeth._--As the teeth of the two specimens of _Sus natunensis_ are much worn, while those of the only skulls of _Sus cristatus_ at hand are not fully grown, it is impossible to make any accurate comparisons. The smaller size of the Natuna pig's teeth is, however, evident for the length of the entire upper toothrow does not equal that of _S. cristatus_ without the posterior molar. The crown of the middle upper molar appears to be more nearly square in outline than that of the Tenasserim pig, but in the very different condition of the specimens it would be unsafe to assume that this character is constant. _Measurements._--External measurements of type; total length 1294; head and body 1117; tail vertebræ 177; height at shoulder 558; hind foot 220 (170); ear from meatus 100; width of ear 75. Cranial measurement of type: greatest length 295 (332[10]); occipito-nasal length 282 (316); basal length 245 (275); basilar length 235 (263); length of nasals 135 (157); width of both nasals together posteriorly 34 (33); median length of bony palate 168 (183); width of bony palate at middle of second molar 30 (29); breadth between tips of postorbital processes 87 (87); least interorbital breadth 64 (65); zygomatic breadth 130 (133); occipital breadth 58 (62); occipital depth 100 (103); least depth of rostrum between canine and incisor 33 (39); mandible 225 (232); depth of mandible through coronoid process 104 (110); depth of ramus at front of first molar 40 (41); maxillary toothrow to front of canine (alveoli) 113 (131[11]); mandibular toothrow to front of canine (alveoli) 120 (138); crown of first upper molar 12 × 13 (18 × 16); crown of second upper molar 18 × 18 (22 × 16). _Weight._--Weight of type, 40 kg.; weight of adult female from Pulo Lingung, 35 kg. _Specimens examined._--Two, one from Pulo Laut, the other from Pulo Lingung. _Remarks._--While the two specimens agree in all essential characters they differ in numerous minor details. The skin from Pulo Lingung is somewhat darker than the type, but the difference is due to the shade of the brown wash, not to any extension of the black. The skull of this specimen is more rounded posteriorly than that of the type, and the rostrum is shorter. Both specimens show conclusively that their relationships are with the _Sus cristatus_ of the Malay Peninsula and not with the _S. longirostris_ of Borneo, a case which finds an exact parallel in the giant squirrels. MUS INTEGER sp. nov. _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104837 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Sirhassen Island, South Natunas, June 7, 1900. Original number 455. _Characters._--A large robust species with coarse but not spinous fur. Relationships with _Mus validus_ Miller, from Trong, Lower Siam, and _Mus mülleri_ Jentink from Sumatra. Differs from the former in smaller size and in the absence of the anterior outer tubercle of the last upper molar, and from the latter in larger size, and yellowish brown (not white) underparts. _Color._--Back and sides a fine grizzle of black and dull ochraceous (the exact shade intermediate between the ochraceous and ochraceous-buff of Ridgway), the two colors nearly equally mixed on back, but the ochraceous in excess on sides. Underparts and inner surface of legs buff. An ill defined drab-gray median line from throat to pubic region. Head darker and more glossy than back, the cheeks distinctly washed with gray. Lips and chin drab-gray. Feet an indefinite brown, darker on metapodials. Ears essentially naked, dark brown. Tail dark brown throughout. Underfur gray (Ridgway, pl. II, No. 8), becoming paler on under parts where it fades irregularly into the general buff. _Fur._--The fur is exactly as in _Mus validus_, that is the grooved bristles are so slender that their true nature is not apparent without use of lens. On middle of back the mass of the fur is about 17 mm. in length, the long terete hairs scattered through it reaching about 30 mm. On rump the fur is longer but not conspicuously so, and there is no noticeable increase in length or abundance of the terete black hairs. _Tail, feet and mammæ._--Tail slightly more coarsely scaled than in _Mus validus_; 9 rings to the centimeter at middle. Hairs scarcely noticeable except toward tip, where they somewhat exceed the breadth of the rings. Feet heavy and robust. Thumb short, with a flat blunt nail. Soles and palms naked, the former with six well developed tubercles, the latter with five. Mammæ, p. 2--2, i. 2--2 = 8. _Skull._--In general appearance the skull of _Mus integer_ resembles that of _Mus validus_.[12] It is shorter (greatest length about 51 instead of 55) and the rostrum is relatively broader and deeper. Audital bullæ similar in form to those of _Mus validus_, but the surface less irregular. Region between anterior bases of zygomata broader than in _Mus validus_ so that the arches are more nearly parallel. _Teeth._--The teeth are relatively as well as actually smaller than in _Mus validus_ and the enamel pattern is normal, that is, the posterior upper molar consists of two transverse folds, and an anterior internal tubercle. There is no trace of the supplementary outer tubercles of the corresponding tooth of _Mus validus_. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 463; head and body 235[13] tail vertebræ 228;[13] hind foot 48 (45); ear from meatus 19; ear from crown 15; width of ear 15. In adult male topotype: total length 462; head and body 234;[13] tail vertebræ 228;[13] hind foot 46 (44); ear from meatus 21; ear from crown 16; width of ear 16. Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 52 (55);[14] basal length 45 (48.6); basilar length 41.6 (45.6); palatal length 23 (26); least width of palate between anterior molars 5 (5); diastema 14 (14.6);[15] length of incisive foramen 8 (9); combined breadth of incisive foramina 3 (3.6); length of nasals 21 (22.6); combined breadth of nasals 6 (6.2); zygomatic breadth 25 (28); interorbital breadth 8 (8); mastoid breadth 19 (19); breadth of braincase above roots of zygomata 18.8 (20); depth of braincase at anterior border of basi-occipital 12.8 (15); frontopalatal depth at posterior extremity of nasals 12.8 (13.4); least depth of rostrum immediately behind incisors 10 (10); maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 9.6 (11); width of front upper molar 3 (3); mandible 30 (31); mandibular toothrow (alveoli) 9 (10). _Specimens examined._--Four, three from the type locality, and one from Pulo Lingung. _Remarks._--This rat is probably a near relative of the Bornean _Mus mülleri_ of Thomas.[16] The specimen from Pulo Lingung does not differ appreciably from the others. MUS SABANUS Thomas. 1887. _Mus sabanus_ THOMAS, Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 5th ser., XX, p. 270. October, 1887 (Mt. Kina Balu, Borneo). 1894. _Mus sabanus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 658. September, 1894 (Bunguran). Thirteen skins and one extra skull, all from Bunguran. There is little probability that this rat is the same as the true _Mus sabanus_ of Borneo. MUS RAJAH Thomas. 1894. _Mus hellwaldi_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 658. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1894. _Mus rajah_ THOMAS, Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 6th ser., XIV, p. 451. December, 1894 (Mount Batu Song, Borneo). 1895. _Mus rajah_ THOMAS, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 26. February, 1895 (Revised determination of Bunguran specimens). Six specimens (one in alcohol) from Bunguran, two from Pulo Lingung, one from Pulo Laut, four (one in alcohol) from Sirhassen, and one (in alcohol) from Pulo Midei. It is doubtful whether these series are referable to one species or whether any of them are the true Bornean _Mus rajah_. The material is not wholly satisfactory, and I have been unable to examine specimens from Borneo. MUS NEGLECTUS Jentink. 1894. _Mus rattus_ var. THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 658. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Mus neglectus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 492. December, 1895 (Bunguran). Five specimens from Pulo Lingung, one from Pulo Midei, and nine from Sirhassen. In the absence of Bornean material, I follow Thomas and Hartert in referring the Natuna rats of the '_alexandrinus_' type to _Mus neglectus_. SCIUROPTERUS EVERETTI Thomas. 1894. _Sciuropterus phayrei_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 660. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Sciuropterus everetti_ THOMAS, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 27. February, 1895 (Revised determination of Bunguran specimens). 1895. _Sciuropterus everetti_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 490. December, 1895 (Bunguran). Two specimens, both from Bunguran; an immature male taken July 4, and an adult female taken July 21, 1900. PETAURISTA NITIDULA Thomas. 1894. _Pteromys nitidus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 660. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Pteromys nitidus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 490. December, 1895 (Bunguran). 1900. _Petaurista nitidula_ THOMAS, Novitates Zoologicæ, VII, p. 592. December 8, 1900 (Bunguran). Seven specimens from Bunguran. SCIURUS PROCERUS sp. nov. 1894. _Sciurus tenuis_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 659. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Sciurus tenuis_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 492. December, 1895 (Bunguran). _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104698 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Bunguran Island, North Natunas, July 18, 1900. Original number 574. _Characters._--Externally similar to _Sciurus tenuis_ though somewhat smaller. Skull very much smaller and relatively broader than in the related species. _Color._--The color is exactly like that of _Sciurus tenuis_ from Singapore. _Skull and teeth._--Except that it appears to be broader throughout, relatively to its length, the skull of _Sciurus procerus_ is essentially a miniature of that of _S. tenuis_, as the braincase shows none of the tendency to increased depth characteristic of the Bornean animal. Ratio of rostral depth to distance between middle of interparietal and lower rim of audital bulla, 50. This ratio is 49 in _S. tenuis_. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 235; head and body 140; tail vertebræ 95; hind foot 35 (33). Average and extremes of four specimens from the type locality: total length 239.5 (235-247); head and body 140; tail vertebræ 99.5 (95-107); hind foot 35.2 (34-36.5); hind foot without claws 32.9 (31.8-34). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 34 (38);[17] basal length 28.6 (32); basilar length 26 (29); palatal length 14.6 (16); diastema, 7.6 (8.8); length of nasals 10.4 (11.4); greatest breadth of nasals 4.8 (5.6); interorbital breadth 12 (12.6); zygomatic breadth 20.8 (21); greatest breadth of braincase 17 (17.6); cranial depth from middle of interparietal to lower rim of audital bulla 14 (15); least depth of rostrum 7 (7.2); mandible, 20 (21); maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 6 (7); mandibular toothrow (alveoli), 6 (7). _Specimens examined._--Six, all from the type locality. _Remarks._--This species is immediately distinguishable from its allies by its small skull, scarcely larger than that of _Funambulus macclellandi_. SCIURUS NATUNENSIS (Thomas). 1894. _Sciurus lowi_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 659. September, 1894 (Sirhassen). 1895. _Sciurus lowi natunensis_ THOMAS, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 26. February, 1895 (Revised determination of Sirhassen specimen). 1895. _? Sciurus lowi natunensis_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 491. (Bunguran and Pulo Laut.) Four specimens from Sirhassen. The average and extreme measurements are as follows: total length 222 (215-229); head and body 135 (133-140); tail vertebræ 86 (82-89); hind foot 33.6 (33-35); hind foot without claw 31.5 (30.5-32). SCIURUS LINGUNGENSIS sp. nov. 1895. _? Sciurus lowi natunensis_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 491. (Bunguran and Pulo Laut.) _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104693 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Pulo Lingung off southern extremity of Bunguran, North Natuna Islands, June 19, 1900. Original number 494. _Characters._--Externally similar to _Sciurus natunensis_ (Thomas), but slightly larger (hind foot with claws 36 instead of 33.6). Skull larger than that of _S. natunensis_, the audital bullæ much broader anteriorly. _Color._--The color is precisely as in _Sciurus natunensis_, and therefore requires no detailed description. _Skull._--Skull larger than that of _Sciurus natunensis_ (see measurements) but not different in general form. The audital bullæ are, however, readily distinguishable by the much greater development of the anterior inner lobe. In _Sciurus natunensis_ this lobe is so small as scarcely to form any part of the general contour of the bulla. In _S. lingungensis_ it is nearly equal to the anterior outer lobe, together with which it imparts a distinctly triangular outline to the ventral aspect of the bulla. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 229; head and body 140; tail vertebræ 89; hind foot 36 (33.7); ear from meatus 12; ear from crown 7. A second specimen from the type locality gives precisely the same measurements. Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 38 (36);[18] basal length 33 (31); basilar length 30 (29); palatal length 17 (16); greatest length of nasals 11 (10); greatest width of both nasals together 5 (5); interorbital breadth 12 (11.4); zygomatic breadth 22.4 (20); mastoid breadth 17 (16.6); depth of braincase at anterior edge of basi-occipital 13.6 (13); mandible 23 (22); maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 6.4 (7); mandibular toothrow (alveoli) 7 (7). _Specimens examined._--Two, both from the type locality. _Remarks._--While _Sciurus lingungensis_ is scarcely distinguishable from _S. natunensis_ by external characters alone, size of the skull and form of the audital bullæ are clearly diagnostic. Both species from the Natunas are separated from the Bornean _S. lowi_ Thomas by their well developed ears, and shorter broader rostral portion of skull. SCIURUS LUTESCENS sp. nov. 1894. _Sciurus notatus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 659. September, 1894 (part, specimens from Sirhassen). _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104668 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Sirhassen Island, South Natunas, June 3, 1900. Original number 429. _Characters._--Allied to _Sciurus notatus_, but considerably smaller than the Bornean representative of the species. Colors very pale, the under parts buff or cream-buff (Ridgway, pl. v, nos. 13 and 11) irregularly tinged with gray. _Color._--Entire dorsal surface of body and tail a fine grizzle of black and cream-buff, the individual hairs black with two or three cream buff rings. On tail the grizzle is less fine than on back, and it shows a faint tendency to resolve itself into obscure cross bands. On sides of body and on head the cream-buff brightens to buff. Cheeks and muzzle buff, scarcely grizzled. Feet slightly yellower than sides, under parts and inner surface of legs pale buff, palest anteriorly and laterally (where it about matches the cream-buff of Ridgway) brightest along median line. Under side of tail dull ochraceous-buff slightly grizzled with black. Pencil not different from rest of tail. Between the colors of sides and belly are the usual longitudinal stripes. The outer of these is about 5 mm. in width, and cream-buff in color. The inner is about twice as wide, and black, but much obscured by a thick sprinkling of bluish gray hairs. Outer surface of ears concolor with neck, inner surface like cheeks. The sprinkling of bluish gray hairs on sides of belly extends irregularly forward to axilla and inner side of front leg, occasionally to throat and chin. _Skull._--As compared with the Bornean form of _Sciurus notatus_, the skull of _S. lutescens_ is much smaller (greatest length about 45 instead of 50) the rostrum is relatively shorter and broader, and the audital bullæ are less elongate antero-posteriorly. Teeth as in _Sciurus notatus_ except that they are uniformly smaller. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 355; head and body 177; tail vertebræ, 177; hind foot 45 (41). Average and extremes of six specimens from the type locality: total length 356 (329-375); head and body 186 (177-196); tail vertebræ 170 (152-178); hind foot 43.8 (41-45); hind foot without claws 40.7 (39-42). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 45.4 (50.4)[19]; basal length 39 (43); basilar length 36.4 (41); palatal length 20 (23); palatal width between middle molars 6 (6); greatest length of nasals 13 (14.8); greatest width of both nasals together 6.6 (7); interorbital breadth 15.4 (17); mastoid breadth 21 (21); zygomatic breadth 26 (29); depth of braincase at anterior edge of basi-occipital 16 (16.8); mandible 28 (30); maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 8 (9); mandibular toothrow (alveoli) 8 (9). _Specimens examined._--Seven (one in alcohol), all from the type locality. _Remarks._--This squirrel is recognizable among the members of the _S. notatus_ group by its light colors, and particularly by the pallor of the under parts. In the latter characteristic it is approached by the form inhabiting Pulo Laut, but with this exception it is unique among the fulvous bellied species. The six specimens show no variation worthy of note. SCIURUS SERAIÆ sp. nov. _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104660 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Pulo Seraia, South Natuna Islands, May 29, 1900. Original number 415. _Characters._--Most nearly related to the small, pallid, _Sciurus lutescens_ from Sirhassen Island, but upper parts slightly less pale, and under parts and pale side stripe buff-yellow, the former without admixture of gray. _Color._--Upper parts as in _Sciurus lutescens_ except that the pale bands on the hairs are more nearly buff than cream-buff. Tail essentially as in _S. lutescens_ but a shade less pale. Under parts buff-yellow darkening irregularly to dull orange-buff. Dark side stripe broad and well defined. _Skull._--The skull closely agrees with that of _Sciurus lutescens_ in both size and form, though it is perhaps even broader in proportion to its length. Teeth as in _S. lutescens_. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 368; head and body 197; tail vertebræ 171; hind foot 44 (40). Average and extremes of four specimens from the type locality: total length 347 (323-368); head and body 184 (171-197); tail vertebræ 163 (152-171); hind foot 43.7 (43-45); hind foot without claws 40.1 (39.5-41). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 45; basal length 38.6; basilar length 36; zygomatic breadth 26.4; least interorbital breadth 17; mandible 28; maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 8.6; mandibular toothrow (alveoli) 8.6. _Specimens examined._--Four, all from the type locality. _Remarks._--As might be expected from the geographic position of the island it inhabits, _Sciurus seraiæ_ differs from the Bornean _S. notatus_ in much the same way as the Sirhassen representative of the group. It is readily distinguishable from the Sirhassen animal by the different color of the under parts. In color _Sciurus seraiæ_ closely resembles _S. abbottii_ of the Tambelan Islands. The latter is, however, a much larger animal, with a longer and relatively narrower skull. SCIURUS RUTILIVENTRIS sp. nov. _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104658 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Pulo Midei (Low Island), South Natuna Islands, May 24, 1900. Original number 405. _Characters._--Size slightly greater than that of _Sciurus lutescens_ and _S. seraiæ_, but not equal to that of the Bornean or Bunguran representatives of _S. notatus_. Color above as in _S. seraiæ_. Under parts bright clear orange-rufous. _Color._--Color exactly as in _Sciurus seraiæ_ except that the pale side stripe is light cream-buff and the under parts are bright orange rufous. Tail without trace of red suffusion. _Skull and teeth._--The skull and teeth are a trifle larger than in _Sciurus lutescens_ and _S. seraiæ_, but the difference is scarcely a tangible one. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: Total length 368; head and body 190; tail vertebræ 178; hind foot 45 (41). Average and extremes of seven specimens from the type locality: total length 356 (330-368); head and body 186 (178-190); tail vertebræ 173 (165-184); hind foot 45.5 (43-48); hind foot without claws 42.2 (39.5-45). _Specimens examined._--Seven, all from the type locality. _Remarks._--This squirrel is remarkable among the Natuna members of the _S. notatus_ group for the brilliant color of its under parts. In this respect it surpasses all of the related forms with which I am acquainted. The red color is, however, strictly confined to the body, showing no tendency to spread to the tail as in _S. miniatus_ of the Malay Peninsula. SCIURUS RUBIDIVENTRIS sp. nov. 1894. _Sciurus notatus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 659. September, 1894 (part, specimens from Bunguran). 1895. _Sciurus notatus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 491. December, 1895 (part, specimens from Bunguran). _Type._--Adult female (skin and skull) No. 104671 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Bunguran Island, North Natunas, June 22, 1900. Original number 498. _Characters._--Size and general appearance both above and below as in the Bornean form of _Sciurus notatus_, but red of under parts brighter, and cheeks and chin distinctly less fulvous than surrounding parts. Skull with broader, deeper braincase than in the Bornean animal. _Color._--The color so closely resembles that of the Bornean _Sciurus notatus_ that no detailed description is necessary. Under parts ochraceous-rufous, fading to tawny on throat, everywhere lighter and more tinged with red than in the Bornean animal. In the latter the color of the under parts extends forward to lips and also strongly suffuses the cheeks and sides of head which are only a shade browner than the throat and conspicuously more fulvous than top of head and sides of neck. In _Sciurus rubidiventris_ the cheeks and lips are noticeably suffused with gray so that they form a distinct contrast with both throat, top of head and sides of neck. _Skull._--The skull agrees in general size with that of the Bornean animal, and is therefore much larger than in the three species from the South Natunas. It is distinguishable by greater general breadth and by the depth of the braincase, which perceptibly exceeds that of _S. notatus_. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 380; head and body 209; tail vertebræ 171; hind foot 49 (44.5). Averages and extremes of seven specimens from the type locality: total length 378 (368-393); head and body 208 (203-222); tail vertebræ 173 (165-184); hind foot 49.3 (48-50); hind foot without claws 45.7 (44.5-47). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 52.4 (50.4);[20] basal length 44 (43); basilar length 41 (41); palatal length 23 (23); palatal width between middle molars 6 (6); greatest length of nasals 15 (14.8); greatest width of both nasals together 7.2 (7); interorbital breadth 18.2 (17); mastoid breadth 23 (21); breadth of braincase above roots of zygomata 24 (22); zygomatic breadth 30.4 (29); depth of braincase at anterior edge of basi-occipital 17.8 (16.8); mandible 29 (30); maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 9 (9); mandibular toothrow (alveoli) 9 (9). _Specimens examined._--Seven, all from the type locality. _Remarks._--In both size and general color this squirrel more closely resembles the Bornean representative of the group than it does either of the three forms from the South Natunas. Its relationships, however, appear to be rather with the race inhabiting Singapore Island than with any of its near geographic allies, _Sciurus lautensis_ excepted. SCIURUS LAUTENSIS sp. nov. 1895. _Sciurus notatus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 491. December, 1895 (part, specimens from Pulo Laut). _Type._--Adult female (skin and skull) No. 104683 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Pulo Laut, North Natuna Islands, August 6, 1900. Original number 612. _Characters._--Size slightly less than that of _Sciurus rubidiventris_ and color conspicuously pallid. Upper parts as in _S. lutescens_; lower parts nearly as in _S. seraiæ_ but rather less dull; pale side stripe much less yellow than belly. Skull as in _Sciurus rubidiventris_. _Color._--Upper parts and tail as in _Sciurus lutescens_. Cheeks faintly washed with ochraceous-buff. Under parts and inner surface of legs bright ochraceous-buff (distinctly more yellow than Ridgway's pl. V, No. 10). Lateral stripes as in _S. lutescens_ (not distinctly yellowish as in _S. seraiæ_), but black band usually less sprinkled with gray. Scarcely a trace of gray in axillary region or on sides of neck. _Skull._--The skull in all respects closely resembles that of _S. rubidiventris_ except that it is slightly smaller. Its large size and the correspondingly large teeth readily distinguish it from that of the South Natuna species. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 375; head and body 195; tail vertebræ 180; hind foot 44 (41). Average and extremes of nine specimens from the type locality; total length 363 (355-379); head and body 189 (171-196); tail vertebræ 170 (165-183); hind foot 45 (44-46); hind foot without claws 42 (41-43). _Specimens examined._--Ten (one in alcohol), all from the type locality. _Remarks._--Though suggesting two of the small South Natuna squirrels in color, _Sciurus lautensis_ is obviously related to the dark colored Bunguran form, with which it more nearly agrees in size. SCIURUS NAVIGATOR (Bonhote). 1894. _Sciurus prevostii_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 656. September, 1894 (Sirhassen). 1901. _Sciurus prevostii navigator_ BONHOTE, Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 7th ser., VII, p. 171. February, 1901 (Sirhassen). Nine specimens, three from Sirhassen Island and six from Pulo Subi. Those from Pulo Subi, while agreeing with the topotypes in color, appear to average a trifle smaller, though the series is hardly extensive enough to prove that this is constant. RATUFA SIRHASSENENSIS (Bonhote). 1894. _Sciurus bicolor albiceps_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 659. September, 1894 (Sirhassen). 1900. _Ratufa ephippium sirhassenensis_ BONHOTE, Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 7th ser., V, p. 498. June, 1900 (Sirhassen). Two specimens, Sirhassen, June 8, 1900. This species, though related to _Ratufa ephippium_, with which it agrees in color-scheme, is sharply differentiated by its small size and cranial peculiarities. It is in no way closely allied to _Ratufa bunguranensis_ and _R. nanogigas_. As compared with that of _Ratufa ephippium sandakanensis_ Bonhote, the skull in addition to its small size (greatest length 57 instead of 65) differs in general narrowness, in the relatively greater breadth of the nasal branches of the premaxillaries, and in the form of the audital bullæ. When the skull is held upside down and viewed from behind the bullæ are seen to be narrower than in the Bornean animal and to rise to a much greater height above the surface of the basi-occipital. RATUFA BUNGURANENSIS (Thomas and Hartert). 1894. _Sciurus bicolor bunguranensis_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 658. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Sciurus bicolor bunguranensis_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 491. December, 1895 (Bunguran). 1900. _Ratufa ephippium bunguranensis_ BONHOTE, Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 7th ser., V, p. 497. June, 1900. Thirteen specimens from Bunguran, all in various stages of the change from the bleached winter coat to the summer pelage. In the latter there is some color variation, mostly due to the greater or less distinctness of the drab wash overlying the Prouts-brown or 'chocolate' of the upper parts. Not only does the drab vary in amount in different individuals, but on every specimen it is more noticeable when the animal is viewed from in front. The drab wash is of the same character as that in _Ratufa affinis_, though less conspicuous. As Mr. Thomas has pointed out to me, after examining a specimen of the latter, _Ratufa bunguranensis_ is closely allied to _R. pyrsonota_. Indeed its relationship to the Siamese species is much closer than to the _R. ephippium_ of Borneo. Together with _R. pyrsonota_ the Bunguran giant squirrel differs conspicuously from that of Borneo in its narrow skull, lengthened audital bullæ, dark feet, dark median line on under surface of tail, and entirely brown back. From _R. pyrsonota_, however, it is readily separable by its darker, less ochraceous color both above and below, drab washed back, and by the much less distinct annulation of the hairs of the dorsal surface. RATUFA NANOGIGAS (Thomas and Hartert). 1895. _Sciurus bicolor nanogigas_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 491. December, 1895 (Pulo Laut). 1900. _Ratufa ephippium nanogigas_ BONHOTE, Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 7th ser., V, p. 498. June, 1900 (Pulo Laut). Four specimens, all from Pulo Laut, the type locality. This strongly characterized dwarf species is allied to _Ratufa pyrsonota_ and _R. bunguranensis_ with which it agrees in color scheme. It is in no way closely related to the large Bornean _R. ephippium_. RATUFA ANGUSTICEPS sp. nov. _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104646 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Pulo Lingung, off south coast of Bunguran, June 17, 1900. Original number 481. _Characters._--Externally like _Ratufa anambæ_ and _R. melanopepla_. Skull about equal to that of latter in length, but conspicuously narrower. _Color._--As the color is precisely like that of _Ratufa anambæ_ and _R. melanopepla_ it requires no description. _Skull and teeth._--The skull is immediately recognizable by its general narrowness, but particularly in the region of the anterior zygomatic roots. Ratio of lachrymal breadth to greatest length, 39. In the other black backed species it is about 42. Audital bullæ narrower and more elongate than in _R. melanopepla_, and more elevated above level of basi-occipital (when skull is held upside down). Lateral processes of basi-occipital obsolete. Teeth as in the related species. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 748; head and body 342; tail vertebræ 406; hind foot 79 (74). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 48.6 (70);[21] basal length 57 (59); basilar length 52 (53); diastema 15.6 (16); length of nasals 22 (23.4); breadth of nasals anteriorly 12 (13); breadth of nasals posteriorly 6 (7); interorbital breadth 27 (28); lachrymal breadth 28.4 (31); breadth between tips of postorbital processes 38 (41); zygomatic breadth 41 (44); mastoid breadth 31 (32.6); mandible 40 (41.6); maxillary toothrow (alveoli) 14 (14); mandibular toothrow (alveoli) 14.6 (14.4). _Specimens examined._--One, the type. _Remarks._--While this squirrel exactly resembles the other black backed species with untufted ears, so far as external characters are concerned, it seems to be well differentiated in cranial peculiarities. No black backed _Ratufa_ has hitherto been recorded from the Natunas. RHINOSCIURUS sp. An immature long-nosed squirrel was taken on Sirhassen Island, June 4, 1900. In the absence of material for comparison I am unable to determine the species. The genus is new to the islands. ARCTOGALIDIA INORNATA sp. nov. _Type._--Adult[22] male (skin and skull) No. 104859 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Bunguran Island, North Natunas, June 23, 1900. Original number 502. _Characters._--Much smaller than _Arctogalidia leucotis_ from the Malay Peninsula or _A. stigmatica_ from Borneo (greatest length of skull about 100 instead of 115) and in color paler than either, the dark dorsal stripes obsolete in adult. _Color._--General color of back and sides light silvery gray irregularly suffused with buff and slightly darkened by blackish hair-tips and by appearance at surface of hair-brown basal portion of fur. The buff suffusion is least noticeable on back, slightly more apparent on sides and flanks, and most evident on sides of neck, where it usually brightens almost to buff-yellow in distinct contrast with surrounding parts. On middle of back there is a trace of the middle dark stripe of the three normally present in members of the genus. Head essentially like back though somewhat more gray. Muzzle and ill-defined eye ring blackish. Cheeks and short median stripe on forehead dull whitish gray. Under parts essentially like back, but buff tinge more diffuse. Feet and ears dark brown. Tail like back but darkening to uniform brown beyond middle. Newly born young are clear bluish gray, with scarcely a tinge of buff. The three black dorsal stripes are clearly defined and normal in extent. _Skull._--In addition to its smaller size the skull differs from that of the Bornean _Arctogalidia stigmatica_ in the relatively larger braincase, and less prominent audital bullæ. The braincase is nearly as broad as in the Bornean species, but the zygomatic width is distinctly less. Audital bullæ less raised above level of basi-occipital when skull is held upside down and viewed from behind. The sagittal crest, though of normal development in very old individuals, is absent at an age when it is well grown in the larger species. In _Arctogalidia leucotis_ and _A. stigmatica_, even in animals so young that the teeth are unworn and all the sutures of the rostrum plainly visible, the sagittal crest is a knife-like ridge extending from proencephalon to lambdoid suture, and rising to a height of about 4 mm. over middle of braincase. In much older individuals of _A. inornata_, with worn teeth and nearly obliterated rostral sutures, the crest is represented by a low ridge about 5 mm. wide over middle of braincase and flat or grooved on top. At this stage it rises very inconspicuously above level of the adjacent surface, from which it is distinguished more by the texture of the bone than by actual form. _Teeth._--The teeth are uniformly much smaller than in _Arctogalidia leucotis_ and _A. stigmatica_, but I can detect no important differences in form. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 1027; head and body 469; tail vertebræ 558; hind foot 78 (73.) External measurements of an adult female: total length 911; head and body 431; tail vertebræ 480; hind foot 77 (72). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 102 (115);[23] basal length 96 (106); basilar length 92 (103); median palatal length 53 (60); palatal breadth between anterior molars 13 (15.4); zygomatic breadth 55 (60); breadth between tips of postorbital processes 41 (39); constriction in front of postorbital processes 19 (18); constriction behind postorbital processes 13 (12); breadth of braincase above roots of zygomata 32 (33); mastoid breadth 36 (38); mandible 76 (86); maxillary toothrow (exclusive of incisors) 34[24] (41); mandibular toothrow (exclusive of incisors) 39 (44); crown of first upper molar 5.4 × 5 (5.4 × 5.6); crown of second upper molar 4 × 5 (5.4 × 6.4); crown of second lower molar 7 × 4.2 (8.4 × 5.4). _Specimens examined._--Seven (two young in alcohol and one skull without skin), all from the type locality. _Remarks._--_Arctogalidia inornata_ is so distinct from the previously described species as to require no special comparisons. It is common on Bunguran where it frequents the cocoanut trees, living for the most part in the tops among the leaf stalks. VIVERRA TANGALUNGA Gray. 1895. _Viverra tangalunga_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 490. December, 1895 (Bunguran). Nine specimens from Bunguran. These agree in all respects with the Bornean animal. TUPAIA SPLENDIDULA Gray. 1894. _Tupaia splendidula_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 656. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1893. _Tupaia splendidula typica_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 489. December, 1895 (Bunguran). Two specimens from Bunguran. TUPAIA LUCIDA (Thomas and Hartert). 1895. _Tupaia splendidula lucida_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 490. December, 1895 (Pulo Laut). Seven specimens (two in alcohol) from Pulo Laut. TUPAIA SIRHASSENENSIS sp. nov. 1894. _Tupaia tana_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 657. September, 1894 (Sirhassen). _Type._--Adult male (skin and skull) No. 104712 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Sirhassen Island, South Natunas, June 5, 1900. Original number 442. _Characters._--In general similar to Bornean specimens of _Tupaia tana_, but smaller (hind foot 47 instead of 52, greatest length of skull 55 instead of 60), gray markings on head and shoulders less distinct, and red of tail brighter. Rostral portion of skull less attenuate than in _Tupaia tana_. _Color._--The color so exactly resembles that of the common Bornean _Tupaia tana_ as to need no detailed description. Gray of head darker than in the Bornean animal and light shoulder markings less distinct and sharply defined. Under side of tail light orange-rufous, darkening to ferruginous toward edge. (In _T. tana_ these colors are replaced by dull ferruginous and hazel respectively.) _Skull and teeth._--The skull is throughout much smaller than in specimens of _Tupaia tana_ from Borneo. In form it differs from that of _T. tana_ in less slender and elongate rostrum, narrower braincase and slightly shorter audital bullæ. Suborbital vacuity much broader than in _T. tana_. Teeth as in the Bornean animal. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: Total length 355; head and body 203; tail vertebræ 152; hind foot 46.4 (44). Average and extremes of four adults from the type locality: total length 367 (365-371); head and body 203; tail vertebræ 163 (162-168); hind foot 45.4 (44-46.6); hind foot without claws 42.5 (41-44). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 54.6 (61);[25] basal length 49 (54); basilar length 46.4 (51); median palatal length 48 (53); distance from lachrymal notch to tip of premaxillary 27.6 (31); least interorbital breadth 14.4 (16); zygomatic breadth 25 (28.4); mandible 38 (41); maxillary toothrow (behind diastema) 20 (21.4); mandibular toothrow (behind diastema) 17 (18). _Specimens examined._--Five, all from the type locality. GALEOPITHECUS VOLANS (Linnæus). 1894. _Galeopithecus volans_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 657. September, 1894 (Bunguran and Sirhassen). Two specimens from Sirhassen and two (one young in alcohol), from Bunguran. Also foetus of one of the Sirhassen specimens. EMBALLONURA ANAMBENSIS Miller. Four specimens from Bunguran. These agree essentially with the Anamba animal, but show some slight cranial peculiarities. PIPISTRELLUS SUBULIDENS sp. nov. _Type._--Adult female (in alcohol) No. 104758 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Sirhassen Island, South Natunas, June 3, 1900. _Characters._--Similar to _Pipistrellus pipistrellus_ (Schreber) in size, color and external form, but skull with broader rostrum, and inner upper incisor without supplemental cusp. _Skull._--The skull is of the same size as that of _Pipistrellus pipistrellus_, but the braincase is narrower and more elongate, and the rostrum is very markedly shorter and broader. The great breadth of the anterior portion of the skull involves also the palate and interpterygoid space, both of which are noticeably wider than in _Pipistrellus pipistrellus_. Audital bullæ slightly smaller than in the European species. _Teeth._--The teeth are essentially as in _Pipistrellus pipistrellus_, except that the inner upper incisor lacks the small supplemental cusp. Mandibular teeth wider than those of _P. pipistrellus_. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length 76; head and body 41; tail 33; tibia 14; foot 6; calcar 10; forearm 32.4; thumb 6; second digit 30; third digit 60; fourth digit 53; fifth digit 43; ear from meatus 11; ear from crown 9; width of ear 9.6; tragus (measured in front) 4. Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 12.4 (12);[26] basal length 11.8 (11.6); basilar length 9 (9); zygomatic breadth 8.4 (8); least interorbital breadth 3.2 (3.2); greatest length of braincase 8 (7.6); greatest breadth of braincase above roots of zygomata 6.6 (6.6); mandible 8.8 (8.4); maxillary toothrow (exclusive of incisors) 4.2 (4.2); mandibular toothrow (exclusive of incisors) 4.8 (4.8). _Specimens examined._--Six (in alcohol), all from the type locality. _Remarks._--I am unable to identify this bat with any described species. Externally it is practically identical with _Pipistrellus pipistrellus_ except that the color, so far as can be judged from specimens preserved in alcohol, is more blackish. Internally it is readily distinguished by the characters of the skull and teeth. From _Pipistrellus abramus_ it differs externally in smaller size, narrower ears, and in the absence of any unusual development of the penis. The incisors differ from those of _P. abramus_ in the same manner as from those of _P. pipistrellus_. HIPPOSIDEROS LARVATUS (Horsfield). Two specimens (one in alcohol) were collected on Sirhassen Island, June 6 and 7, 1900. RHINOLOPHUS AFFINIS (Horsfield). One badly damaged specimen from Bunguran appears to be referable to typical _Rhinolophus affinis_. The forearm cannot be measured, but the third finger is 75 mm. in length. Tibia 21, foot 10.4, ear from meatus 21. Ridge on muzzle beneath edge of nose leaf low, broad and hairy, not in the least suggesting a supplementary leaflet. RHINOLOPHUS SPADIX sp. nov. 1894. _Rhinolophus affinis_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 656. December, 1895 (Sirhassen). _Type._--Adult female (in alcohol) No. 104752 U. S. National Museum. Collected on Sirhassen Island, South Natunas, June, 1900. _Characters._--In general like _Rhinolophus affinis_ but much smaller. Color uniform tawny brown. Muzzle with distinct supplemental leaflets. _Muzzle._--Muzzle and noseleaf precisely as in _Rhinolophus affinis_, except that the ridge on muzzle beneath edge of horseshoe is developed into a distinct supplemental leaflet resembling those present in _Hipposideros_. In this respect _Rhinolophus spadix_ resembles the animal from Burmah referred by Thomas to _Rhinolophus rouxii_;[27] but the terminal erect portion of the noseleaf is not shortened or in any way peculiar in form. _Ears._--The ears resemble those of _Rhinolophus affinis_, except that they are not as large. _Color._--Fur everywhere russet, slightly paler on ventral surface, darker and somewhat tinged with hazel above. Ears and membranes dark brown. _Skull and teeth._--The skull and teeth exactly resemble those of mainland specimens of _Rhinolophus affinis_ except for their uniformly smaller size. _Measurements._--External measurements of type: total length, 70 (85[28]); tail 21 (23); tibia 17.6 (24); foot 8 (10); calcar 12 (13); forearm 43 (51); thumb 8 (8.6); second digit 32 (40); third digit 64 (77); fourth digit 53 (61); fifth digit 54 (63); ear from meatus 17 (20); ear from crown 14 (17); length of noseleaf from lip 13 (16); greatest width of noseleaf 8 (9). Cranial measurements of type: greatest length 18 (23); basal length 16 (20.4); basilar length 14.6 (18); zygomatic breadth 9 (11); least interorbital breadth 2.4 (2.4); greatest length of braincase 10.4 (13); greatest breadth of braincase above roots of zygomata 8 (9.4); frontopalatal depth (at middle of molar series) 4 (4.8); depth of braincase 6 (7); mandible 11.8 (15); maxillary toothrow (exclusive of incisor) 6.8 (9); mandibular toothrow (exclusive of incisors) 7 (9.8). _Specimens examined._--Three (one skin), all from the type locality. _Remarks._--_Rhinolophus spadix_ is so readily distinguished from its relatives of the _R. affinis_ group that it needs no special comparisons. It is a much smaller animal than the species from the Anambas that I recently referred to _R. rouxii_.[29] In color the latter is a dull brown not in the least resembling the russet of _R. spadix_. CYNOPTERUS MONTANOI Robin. 1894. _Cynopterus marginatus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 655. September, 1894 (Sirhassen and Bunguran). 1899. _Cynopterus montanoi_ MATSCHIE, Die Fledermäuse des Berliner Museums für Naturkunde, p. 75. August, 1899. (Natuna record of _C. marginatus_ placed in synonymy of _C. montanoi_.) Five specimens (three skins) from Sirhassen. These agree so closely with a skin and two bleached alcoholic specimens from Singapore, which I suppose to be the same as the Malaccan _Cynopterus montanoi_, that without more material it is impossible to distinguish the Natuna animal from that of the southern extremity of the Malay Peninsula. _Cynopterus montanoi_ as thus understood differs from _C. angulatus_ Miller[30] of Lower Siam in its more slender skull and in the absence of the white border of the ear, and from _C. titthæcheilus_ (Temminck) of Sumatra and Java in its conspicuously smaller size. PTEROPUS VAMPYRUS (Linnæus). 1894. _Pteropus vampyrus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 655. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Pteropus vampyrus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 489. December, 1895 (Bunguran). Six skins from Bunguran. ? PTEROPUS HYPOMELANUS Temminck. 1894. _Pteropus hypomelanus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 655. September, 1894 (Sirhassen). 1895. _Pteropus hypomelanus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 489. December, 1895 (Pulo Pandak, Pulo Panjang and Pulo Laut). Eight (one in alcohol) from Sirhassen and seven (one in alcohol) Pulo Laut. It is highly probable that these specimens represent a species distinct from the true _Pteropus hypomelanus_ of Ternate. NYCTICEBUS TARDIGRADUS (Linnæus). 1894. _Nycticebus tardigradus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 655. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Nycticebus tardigradus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 489 (Bunguran). One specimen from Bunguran. MACACUS 'CYNOMOLGUS' Auct. 1894. _Macacus cynomolgus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 654. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Macacus cynomolgus_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 489. December, 1895 (Bunguran). A specimen from each of the following islands: Sirhassen, Pulo Lingung and Pulo Laut. SEMNOPITHECUS CRISTATUS (Raffles). Two monkeys from Sirhassen appear to be referable to this species. SEMNOPITHECUS NATUNÆ Thomas and Hartert. 1894. _Semnopithecus natunæ_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 652. September, 1894 (Bunguran). 1895. _Semnopithecus natunæ_ THOMAS and HARTERT, Novitates Zoologicæ, II, p. 489. (Bunguran.) Ten specimens from Bunguran. FOOTNOTES: [1] For location of the Natuna Islands see Proc. Washington Acad. Sci., II, p. 204. August 20, 1900. [2] Thomas (O.) and Hartert (E.). List of the first collection of mammals from the Natuna Islands. Novitates Zoologicæ, I, pp. 652-660. September, 1894. Thomas (O.). Revised determinations of three of the Natuna rodents. Novitates Zoologicæ, II, pp. 26-28. February, 1895. Thomas (O.) and Hartert (E.). On a second collection of mammals from the Natuna Islands. Novitates Zoologicæ, II, pp. 489-492. December, 1895. Bonhote (J. Lewis). On the squirrels of the Ratufa (Sciurus) bicolor group. Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 7th ser., V, pp. 490-499. June, 1900. Thomas (O.). The red flying squirrel of the Natuna Islands. Novitates Zoologicæ, VII, p. 592. December 8, 1900. Bonhote (J. Lewis). On the Squirrels of the Sciurus Prevostii Group. Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 7th ser., VII, pp. 167-177. February, 1901. [3] Gray's "Notice of a species of Tupaia from Borneo, in the collection of the British Museum" in the Proceedings of the Zoological Society of London for 1865 (p. 322) may be added to the bibliography of Natuna mammals, as the animal described, though supposed to have been taken in Borneo, is apparently confined to Bunguran Island, the largest of the Natunas. [4] _Megaderma spasma_, _Myotis muricola_, _Taphozous melanopogon_, _Mydaus meliceps_, _Paradoxurus hermaphroditus_, _Lutra sumatrana_ and _Mus ephippium_. [5] See papers already cited, also Novitates Zoologicæ, I, p. 468 (letter from Mr. Everett); _ibid._, I, p. 483 (note on land shells by Mr. E. Smith), _ibid._, II, p. 478 (Birds); _ibid._, II, p. 499 (Reptiles). [6] Sitz.-Berich. der Gesellsch. Naturforschender Freunde zu Berlin, 1893, p. 224. [7] For the opportunity of examining the skull of an adult male from Balabac I am indebted to the courtesy of Mr. D. G. Elliot. A photograph (slightly reduced) of this specimen was published by Mr. Elliot in 1896 (Field Columbian Museum, Publication II, Zoological Series, I, No. 3, pl. XI, May, 1896). [8] Measurements in parentheses are those of an adult male topotype of _Tragulus nigricans_. [9] Measurements in parentheses are those of a less mature specimen from Bunguran. [10] Measurements in parentheses are those of a Tenasserim specimen (female) of _Sus cristatus_ so young that the posterior molar is not fully in place. [11] Last molar not fully grown. [12] See Proc. Biol. Soc. Washington, XIII, pl. III and IV. [13] Collector's measurement. [14] Measurements in parentheses are those of the type of _Mus validus_. [15] In the type of _Mus mülleri_ the diastema is 12 mm. [16] Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 6th ser., XIV, p. 450. December, 1894. [17] Measurements in parentheses are those of an adult male topotype of _Sciurus tenuis_. [18] Measurements in parentheses are those of an older specimen of _Sciurus natunensis_ from Sirhassen. [19] Measurements in parentheses are those of an adult _Sciurus notatus_ from Borneo. [20] Measurements in parentheses are those of an adult Bornean _Sciurus notatus_. [21] Measurements in parentheses are those of the type of _Ratufa melanopepla_. [22] Teeth very much worn and many of them absent. [23] Measurements in parentheses are those of a young adult _A. stigmatica_ from British North Borneo. [24] Tooth measurements are from a younger specimen (male) with perfect dentition. [25] Measurements in parentheses are those of an adult male Bornean _Tupaia tana_. [26] Measurements in parentheses are those of an adult skull of _Pipistrellus pipistrellus_ from Switzerland. [27] Ann. Mus. Civ. di Storia Nat. di Genova, Ser. 2, X, p. 923, pl. XI, 1892. [28] Measurements in parentheses are those of an adult female _Rhinolophus affinis_ from Trong, Lower Siam. [29] Proc. Washington Acad. Sci., II, p. 234. August 20, 1900. [30] Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci. Philadelphia, 1898, p. 316. July, 1898. * * * * * Transcriber's Note: Obvious typographical errors have been repaired. _Underscores_ surround italicized content. 
15685	----	provided by canadiana.org (http://www.canadiana.org/ECO/mtq?doc=34674) A CONTINUATION OF A VOYAGE TO NEW HOLLAND, ETC. IN THE YEAR 1699. Wherein are described, The Islands Timor, Roti and Anabao. A passage between the islands Timor and Anabao. Kupang and Laphao Bays. The islands Omba, Fetter, Banda and Bird. A description of the coast of New Guinea. The islands Pulo Sabuda, Cockle, King William's, Providence, Gerrit Denis, Anthony Cave's and St. John's. Also a new passage between New Guinea and New Britain. The islands Ceram, Bonao, Bouro, and several islands before unknown. The coast of Java, and Straits of Sunda. Author's arrival at Batavia, Cape of Good Hope, St. Helena, island of Ascension, etc. Their inhabitants, customs, trade, etc. Harbours, soil, birds, fish, etc. Trees, plants, fruits, etc. ... Illustrated with maps and draughts: also divers birds, fishes, etc. not found in this part of the world, engraven on eighteen copper plates. ... BY CAPTAIN WILLIAM DAMPIER. ... LONDON, Printed for James and John Knapton, at The Crown in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1729. ... CONTENTS. CHAPTER 1. The Author's departure from the coast of New Holland, with the reasons of it. Watersnakes. The Author's arrival at the island Timor. Search for fresh water on the south side of the island, in vain. Fault of the charts. The island Roti. A passage between the islands Timor and Anabao. Fault of the charts. A Dutch fort, called Concordia. Their suspicion of the Author. The island Anabao described. The Author's parley with the Governor of the Dutch fort. They, with great difficulty, obtain leave to water. Kupang Bay. Coasting along the north side of Timor. They find water and an anchoring-place. A description of a small island, seven leagues east from the watering-bay. Laphao Bay. How the Author was treated by the Portuguese there. Designs of making further searches upon and about the island. Port Sesial. Return to Babao in Kupang Bay. The Author's entertainment at the fort of Concordia. His stay seven weeks at Babao. CHAPTER 2. A particular description of the island Timor. Its coast. The island Anabao. Fault of the charts. The channel between Timor and Anabao. Kupang Bay. Fort Concordia. A particular description of the bay. The anchoring-place, called Babao. The Malayans here kill all the Europeans they can. Laphao, a Portuguese settlement, described. Port Ciccale. The hills, water, lowlands, soil, woods, metals, in the island Timor. Its trees. Cana-fistula-tree described. Wild figtrees described. Two new sorts of palmtrees described. The fruits of the island. The herbs. Its land animals. Fowls. The ringing-bird. Its fish. Cockle merchants and oysters. Cockles as big as a man's head. Its original natives described. The Portuguese and Dutch settlements. The Malayan language generally spoken here. L'Orantuca on the island Ende. The seasons, winds, and weather at Timor. CHAPTER 3. Departure from Timor. The islands Omba and Fetter. A burning island. Their missing the Turtle Isles. Banda Isles. Bird Island. They descry the coast of New Guinea. They anchor on the coast of New Guinea. A description of the place, and of a strange fowl found there. Great quantities of mackerel. A white island. They anchor at an island called by the inhabitants Pulo Sabuda. A description of it and its inhabitants and product. The Indians' manner of fishing there. Arrival at Mabo, the north-west cape of New Guinea. A description of it. Cockle Island. Cockles of seventy-eight pound weight. Pigeon Island. The wind hereabouts. An empty cockleshell weighing two hundred fifty-eight pound. King William's Island. A description of it. Plying on the coast of New Guinea. Fault of the charts. Providence Island. They cross the Line. A snake pursued by fish. Squally Island. The main of New Guinea. CHAPTER 4. The mainland of New Guinea. Its inhabitants. Slingers Bay. Small islands. Gerrit Dennis Isle described. Its inhabitants. Their proas. Anthony Cave's Island. Its inhabitants. Trees full of worms found in the sea. St. John's Island. The mainland of New Guinea. Its inhabitants. The coast described. Cape and Bay St. George. Cape Orford. Another bay. The inhabitants there. A large account of the author's attempts to trade with them. He names the place Port Montague. The country thereabouts described, and its produce. A burning island described. A new passage found. New Britain. Sir George Rook's Island. Long Island and Crown Island, discovered and described. Sir R. Rich's Island. A burning island. A strange spout. A conjecture concerning a new passage southward. King William's Island. Strange whirlpools. Distance between Cape Mabo and Cape St. George computed. CHAPTER 5. The Author's return from the coast of New Guinea. A deep channel. Strange tides. The island Ceram described. Strange fowls. The islands Bonao, Bouro, Misacombi, Pentare, Laubana, and Potoro. The passage between Pentare and Laubana. The island Timor. Babao Bay. The island Roti. More islands than are commonly laid down in the charts. Great currents. Whales. Coast of New Holland. The Trial Rocks. The coast of Java. Princes Isle. Straits of Sunda. Thwart-the-way Island. Indian proas, and their traffic. Passage through the Strait. Arrival at Batavia. CHAPTER 6. The Author continues in Batavia Road to refit, to get provisions. English ships then in the road. Departure from Batavia. Touch at the Cape of Good Hope. And at St. Helena. Arrival at the island of Ascension. A leak sprung. Which being impossible to be stopped, the ship is lost, but the men saved. They find water upon the island. And are brought back to England. MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. MAP. A VIEW OF THE COURSE OF CAPTAIN WILLIAM DAMPIER'S VOYAGE FROM TIMOR ROUND NEW BRITAIN ETC. TABLE 5. TIMOR. TABLE 6. TIMOR. TABLE 7. TIMOR AND OTHER ISLANDS BETWEEN IT AND NEW GUINEA. TABLE 8. NEW GUINEA. FISH, BAT AND BIRD OF NEW GUINEA: THIS FISH IS OF A PALE RED ALL PARTS OF IT EXCEPT THE EYE TAKEN ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. STRANGE AND LARGE BATS ON THE ISLAND PULO SABUDA IN NEW GUINEA. THIS BIRD'S EYE IS OF A BRIGHT RED. TABLE 9. NEW GUINEA. TABLE 10. NEW GUINEA ETC. TABLE 11. SQUALLY AND OTHER ISLANDS ON THE COAST OF NEW BRITAIN. FISHES TAKEN ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA: THIS FISH FINS AND TAIL ARE BLUE ON THE EDGES AND RED IN THE MIDDLE WITH BLUE SPOTS ALL OVER THE BODY BUT THE BELLY WHITE. A PIKE-FISH CONGER ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. THIS FISH IS A PALE RED WITH BLUE SPOTS ON THE BODY, THE LONG TAIL BLUE IN THE MIDDLE AND WHITE ON THE SIDE. A FISH. TABLE 12. NEW BRITAIN. FISHES TAKEN ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA: THIS FISH HIS FINS AND TAIL IS BLUE WITH BLUE SPOTS ALL OVER THE BODY. FOUR FISH AND A CRUSTACEAN. TABLE 13. DAMPIER'S PASSAGE AND ISLANDS ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. TABLE 14. ISLANDS ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. TABLE 15. GILOLO AND OTHER ISLANDS BETWEEN IT AND BOURO. BIRDS OF NEW GUINEA: THIS BIRD WAS TAKEN ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. A STATELY LAND-FOWL ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA DESCRIBED. A STRANGE LAND-FOWL ON THE ISLAND CERAM. TABLE 16. BOURO AND OTHER ISLANDS BETWEEN IT AND AMBO. ... CHAPTER 1. NORTH FROM NEW HOLLAND FOR WATER. THE AUTHOR'S DEPARTURE FROM THE COAST OF NEW HOLLAND, WITH THE REASONS OF IT. I had spent about 5 weeks in ranging off and on the coast of New Holland, a length of about 300 leagues: and had put in at 3 several places to see what there might be thereabouts worth discovering; and at the same time to recruit my stock of fresh water and provisions for the further discoveries I purposed to attempt on the Terra Australis. This large and hitherto almost unknown tract of land is situated so very advantageously in the richest climates of the world, the torrid and temperate zones; having in it especially all the advantages of the torrid zone, as being known to reach from the equator itself (within a degree) to the Tropic of Capricorn, and beyond it; that in coasting round it, which I designed by this voyage, if possible, I could not but hope to meet with some fruitful lands, continent or islands, or both, productive of any of the rich fruits, drugs, or spices (perhaps minerals also, etc.) that are in the other parts of the torrid zone, under equal parallels of latitude; at least a soil and air capable of such, upon transplanting them hither, and cultivation. I meant also to make as diligent a survey as I could of the several smaller islands, shores, capes, bays, creeks, and harbours, fit as well for shelter as defence, upon fortifying them; and of the rocks and shoals, the soundings, tides, and currents, winds and weather, variation, etc., whatever might be beneficial for navigation, trade or settlement; or be of use to any who should prosecute the same designs hereafter; to whom it might be serviceable to have so much of their work done to their hands; which they might advance and perfect by their own repeated experiences. As there is no work of this kind brought to perfection at once I intended especially to observe what inhabitants I should meet with, and to try to win them over to somewhat of traffic and useful intercourse, as there might be commodities among any of them that might be fit for trade or manufacture, or any found in which they might be employed. Though as to the New Hollanders hereabouts, by the experience I had had of their neighbours formerly, I expected no great matters from them. With such views as these I set out at first from England; and would, according to the method I proposed formerly, have gone westward through the Magellanic Strait, or round Tierra del Fuego rather, that I might have begun my discoveries upon the eastern and least known side of the Terra Australis. But that way it was not possible for me to go by reason of the time of year in which I came out; for I must have been compassing the south of America in a very high latitude in the depth of the winter there. I was therefore necessitated to go eastward by the Cape of Good Hope; and when I should be past it it was requisite I should keep in a pretty high latitude, to avoid the general tradewinds that would be against me, and to have the benefit of the variable winds: by all which I was in a manner unavoidably determined to fall in first with those parts of New Holland I have hitherto been describing. For should it be asked why at my first making that shore I did not coast it to the southward, and that way try to get round to the east of New Holland and New Guinea; I confess I was not for spending my time more than was necessary in the higher latitudes; as knowing that the land there could not be so well worth the discovering as the parts that lay nearer the Line and more directly under the sun. Besides, at the time when I should come first on New Holland, which was early in the spring, I must, had I stood southward, have had for some time a great deal of winter weather, increasing in severity, though not in time, and in a place altogether unknown; which my men, who were heartless enough to the voyage at best, would never have borne after so long a run as from Brazil hither. For these reasons therefore I chose to coast along to the northward, and so to the east, and so thought to come round by the south of Terra Australis in my return back, which should be in the summer season there: and this passage back also I now thought I might possibly be able to shorten, should it appear, at my getting to the east coast of New Guinea, that there is a channel there coming out into these seas, as I now suspected, near Rosemary Island: unless the high tides and great indraught thereabout should be occasioned by the mouth of some large river; which has often low lands on each side of its outlet, and many islands and shoals lying at its entrance. But I rather thought it a channel or strait than a river: and I was afterwards confirmed in this opinion when, by coasting New Guinea, I found that other parts of this great tract of Terra Australis, which had hitherto been represented as the shore of a continent, were certainly islands; and it is probably the same with New Holland: though, for reasons I shall afterwards show, I could not return by the way I proposed to myself to fix the discovery. All that I had now seen from the latitude of 27 degrees south to 25, which is Shark's Bay; and again from thence to Rosemary Islands and about the latitude of 20; seems to be nothing but ranges of pretty large islands against the sea, whatever might be behind them to the eastward, whether sea or land, continent or islands. But to proceed with my voyage. Though the land I had seen as yet was not very inviting, being but barren towards the sea, and affording me neither fresh water nor any great store of other refreshments, nor so much as a fit place for careening; yet I stood out to sea again with thoughts of coasting still alongshore (as near as I could) to the north-eastward, for the further discovery of it: persuading myself that at least the place I anchored at in my voyage round the world, in the latitude of 16 degrees 15 minutes, from which I was not now far distant, would not fail to afford me sweet water upon digging, as it did then; for the brackish water I had taken in here, though it served tolerably well for boiling, was yet not very wholesome. With these intentions I put to sea on the 5th of September 1699, with a gentle gale, sounding all the way; but was quickly induced to alter my design. For I had not been out above a day but I found that the shoals among which I was engaged all the while on the coast, and was like to be engaged in, would make it a very tedious thing to sail along by the shore, or to put in where I might have occasion. I therefore edged farther off to sea, and so deepened the water from 11 to 32 fathom. The next day, being September the 6th, we could but just discern the land, though we had then no more than about 30 fathom, uncertain soundings; for even while we were out of sight of land we had once but 7 fathom, and had also great and uncertain tides whirling about, that made me afraid to go near a coast so shallow, where we might be soon aground and yet have but little wind to bring us off: for should a ship be near a shoal she might be hurled upon it unavoidably by a strong tide, unless there should be a good wind to work her and keep her off. Thus also on the 7th day we saw no land, though our water decreased again to 26 fathom; for we had deepened it, as I said, to 30. WATERSNAKES. This day we saw two water-snakes, different in shape from such as we had formerly seen. The one was very small, though long; the other long and as big as a man's leg, having a red head; which I never saw any have, before or since. We had this day latitude 16 degrees 9 minutes by observation. I was by this time got to the north of the place I had thought to have put in at where I dug wells in my former voyage; and though I knew, by the experience I had of it then, that there was a deep entrance in thither from the eastward; yet by the shoals I had hitherto found so far stretched on this coast, I was afraid I should have the same trouble to coast all along afterwards beyond that place: and besides the danger of running almost continually amongst shoals on a strange shore, and where the tides were strong and high; I began to bethink myself that a great part of my time must have been spent in being about a shore I was already almost weary of, which I might employ with greater satisfaction to my mind, and better hopes of success, in going forward to New Guinea. Add to this the particular danger I should have been in upon a lee shore, such as is here described, when the north-west monsoon should once come in; the ordinary season of which was not now far off, though this year it stayed beyond the common season; and it comes on storming at first, with tornadoes, violent gusts, etc. Wherefore quitting the thoughts of putting in again at New Holland, I resolved to steer away for the island Timor; where, besides getting fresh water, I might probably expect to be furnished with fruits and other refreshments to recruit my men, who began to droop; some of them being already to my great grief afflicted with the scurvy, which was likely to increase upon them and disable them, and was promoted by the brackish water they took in last for boiling their oatmeal. It was now also towards the latter end of the dry season; when I might not probably have found water so plentifully upon digging at that part of New Holland as when I was there before in the wet season. And then, considering the time also that I must necessarily spend in getting in to the shore through such shoals as I expected to meet with; or in going about to avoid them; and in digging of wells when I should come hither: I might very well hope to get to Timor and find fresh water there as soon as I could expect to get it at New Holland; and with less trouble and danger. On the 8th of September therefore, shaping our course for Timor, we were in latitude 15 degrees 37 minutes. We had 26 fathom coarse sand; and we saw one whale. We found them lying most commonly near the shore or in shoal water. This day we also saw some small white clouds; the first that we had seen since we came out of Shark's Bay. This was one sign of the approach of the north-north-west monsoon. Another sign was the shifting of the winds; for from the time of our coming to our last anchoring place, the seabreezes which before were easterly and very strong had been whiffling about and changing gradually from the east to the north, and thence to the west, blowing but faintly, and now hanging mostly in some point of the west. This day the winds were at south-west by west, blowing very faint; and the 9th day we had the wind at north-west by north, but then pretty fresh; and we saw the clouds rising more and thicker in the north-west. This night at 12 we lay by for a small low sandy island which I reckoned myself not far from. The next morning at sun-rising we saw it from the top-masthead, right ahead of us; and at noon were up within a mile of it: when by a good observation I found it to lie in 13 degrees 55 minutes. I have mentioned it in my first volume, but my account then made it to lie in 13 degrees 50 minutes. We had abundance of boobies and man-of-war-birds flying about us all the day; especially when we came near the island; which had also abundance of them upon it; though it was but a little spot of sand, scarce a mile round. I did not anchor here nor send my boat ashore; there being no appearance of getting anything on that spot of sand besides birds that were good for little: though had I not been in haste I would have taken some of them. So I made the best of my way to Timor; and on the 11th in the afternoon we saw 10 small land-birds, about the bigness of larks, that flew away north-west. The 13th we saw a great many sea-snakes. One of these, of which I saw great numbers and variety in this voyage, was large, and all black: I never saw such another for his colour. THE AUTHOR'S ARRIVAL AT THE ISLAND TIMOR. We had now for some days small gales from the south-south-west to the north-north-west, and the sky still more cloudy especially in the mornings and evenings. The 14th it looked very black in the north-west all the day; and a little before sunset we saw, to our great joy, the tops of the high mountains of Timor, peeping out of the clouds which had before covered them as they did still the lower parts. We were now running directly towards the middle of the island on the south side: but I was in some doubt whether I should run down alongshore on this south side towards the east end; or pass about the west end, and so range along on the north side, and go that way towards the east end: but as the winds were now westerly I thought it best to keep on the south side, till I should see how the weather would prove; for, as the island lies, if the westerly winds continued and grew tempestuous I should be under the lee of it and have smooth water, and so could go alongshore more safely and easily on this south side: I could sooner also run to the east end where there is the best shelter, as being still more under the lee of the island when those winds blow. Or if, on the other side, the winds should come about again to the eastward, I could but turn back again (as I did afterwards) and passing about the west end, could there prosecute my search on the north side of the island for water, or inhabitants, or a good harbour, or whatever might be useful to me. For both sides of the island were hitherto alike to me, being wholly unacquainted here; only as I had seen it at a distance in my former voyage. SEARCH FOR FRESH WATER ON THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE ISLAND, IN VAIN. I had heard also that there were both Dutch and Portuguese settlements on this island; but whereabouts I knew not: however I was resolved to search about till I found either one of these settlements, or water in some other place. It was now almost night and I did not care to run near the land in the dark, but clapped on a wind and stood off and on till the next morning, being September 15th, when I steered in for the island, which now appeared very plain, being high, double and treble land, very remarkable, on whatever side you view it. See a sight of it in 2 parts, Table 5 Number 1. At 3 in the afternoon we anchored in 14 fathom, soft black oasy ground, about a mile from the shore. See 2 sights more of the coast in Table 5 Numbers 2 and 3, and the island itself in the particular map; which I have here inserted to show the course of the voyage from hence to the eastward; as the general map shows the course of the whole voyage. But in making the particular map I chose to begin only with Timor, that I might not, by extending it too far, be forced to contract the scale too much among the islands, etc., of the New Guinea coast, which I chiefly designed it for. The land by the sea on this south side is low and sandy, and full of tall straight-bodied trees like pines, for about 200 yards inwards from the shore. Beyond that, further in towards the mountains, for a breadth of about 3 miles more or less, there is a tract of swampy mangrove land which runs all along between the sandy land of the shore on one side of it, and the feet of the mountains on the other. And this low mangrove land is overflown every tide of flood by the water that flows into it through several mouths or openings in the outer sandy skirt against the sea. We came to an anchor right against one of these openings; and presently I went in my boat to search for fresh water, or get speech of the natives; for we saw smokes, houses, and plantations against the sides of the mountains, not far from us. It was ebbing water before we got ashore, though the water was still high enough to float us in without any great trouble. After we were within the mouth we found a large salt-water lake which we hoped might bring us up through the mangroves to the fast land: but before we went further I went ashore on the sandy land by the seaside, and looked about me; but saw there no sign of fresh water. Within the sandy bank the water forms a large lake: going therefore into the boat again we rowed up the lake towards the firm land, where no doubt there was fresh water, could we come at it. We found many branches of the lake entering within the mangrove land but not beyond it. Of these we left some on the right hand and some on the left, still keeping in the biggest channel; with still grew smaller, and at last so narrow that we could go no farther, ending among the swamps and mangroves. We were then within a mile of some houses of the Indian inhabitants and the firm land by the sides of the hills: but the mangroves thus stopping our way, we returned as we came: but it was almost dark before we reached the mouth of the creek. It was with much ado that we got out of it again; for it was now low-water, and there went a rough short sea on the bar; which however we passed over without any damage and went aboard. The next morning at five we weighed and stood alongshore to the eastward, making use of the sea and land-breezes. We found the seabreezes here from the south-south-east to the south-south-west, the land-breezes from the north to the north-east. We coasted along about 20 leagues and found it all a straight, bold, even shore, without points, creeks or inlets for a ship: and there is no anchoring till within a mile or a mile and a half of the shore. We saw scarce any opening fit for our boats; and the fast land was still barricaded with mangroves; so that here was no hope to get water; nor was it likely that there should be hereabouts any European settlement, since there was no sign of a harbour. FAULT OF THE CHARTS. The land appeared pleasant enough to the eye: for the sides and tops of the mountains were clothed with woods mixed with savannahs; and there was a plantation of the Indian natives, where we saw the coconuts growing, and could have been glad to have come at some of them. In the chart I had with me a shoal was laid down hereabouts; but I saw nothing of it, going, or coming; and so have taken no notice of it in my map. Weary of running thus fruitlessly along the south side of the island to the eastward I resolved to return the way I came; and compassing the west end of the island, make a search along the north side of it. The rather, because the north-north-west monsoon, which I had designed to be sheltered from by coming the way I did, did not seem to be near at hand, as the ordinary season of them required; but on the contrary I found the winds returning again to the south-eastward; and the weather was fair, and seemed likely to hold so; and consequently the north-north-west monsoon was not like to come in yet. I considered therefore that by going to the north side of the island I should there have the smooth water, as being the lee side as the winds now were; and hoped to have better riding at anchor or landing on that side, than I could expect here, where the shore was so lined with mangroves. Accordingly the 18th about noon I altered my course and steered back again towards the south-west end of the island. This day we struck a dolphin; and the next day saw two more but struck none: we also saw a whale. THE ISLAND ROTI. In the evening we saw the island Roti, and another island to the south of it, not seen in my map; both lying near the south-west end of Timor. On both these islands we saw smokes by day, and fires by night, as we had seen on Timor ever since we fell in with it. I was told afterwards by the Portuguese that they had sugar-works on the island Roti; but I knew nothing of that now; and the coast appearing generally dry and barren, only here and there a spot of trees, I did not attempt anchoring there but stood over again to the Timor coast. A PASSAGE BETWEEN THE ISLANDS TIMOR AND ANABAO. FAULT OF THE CHARTS. September the 21st in the morning, being near Timor, I saw a pretty large opening which immediately I entered with my ship, sounding as I went in: but had no ground till I came within the east point of the mouth of the opening, where I anchored in 9 fathom, a league from the shore. The distance from the east side to the west side of this opening was about 5 leagues. But, whereas I thought this was only an inlet or large sound that ran a great way into the island Timor, I found afterwards that it was a passage between the west end of Timor and another small island called Anamabao or Anabao: into which mistake I was led by my sea-chart, which represented both sides of the opening as parts of the same coast, and called all of it Timor: see all this rectified, and a view of the whole passage as I found it, in a small map I have made of it. Table 6 Number 1. I designed to sail into this opening till I should come to firm land, for the shore was all set thick with mangroves here by the sea, on each side; which were very green, as were also other trees more within-land. We had now but little wind; therefore I sent my boat away, to sound and to let me know by signs what depth of water they met with, if under 8 fathom; but if more I ordered them to go on and make no signs. At 11 that morning, having a pretty fresh gale, I weighed and made sail after my boat; but edged over more to the west shore, because I saw many smaller openings there, and was in hopes to find a good harbour where I might secure the ship; for then I could with more safety send my boats to seek for fresh water. I had not sailed far before the wind came to the south-east and blew so strong that I could not with safety venture nearer that side, it being a lee shore. Besides, my boat was on the east side of the Timor coast; for the other was, as I found afterwards, the Anabao shore; and the great opening I was now in was the strait between that island and Timor; towards which I now tacked and stood over. Taking up my boat therefore I ran under the Timor side, and at 3 o'clock anchored in 29 fathom, half a mile from the shore. That part of the south-west point of Timor where we anchored in the morning bore now south by west, distance 3 leagues: and another point of the island bore north-north-east, distance 2 leagues. A DUTCH FORT, CALLED CONCORDIA. THEIR SUSPICION OF THE AUTHOR. Not long after, we saw a sloop coming about the point last mentioned, with Dutch colours; which I found, upon sending my boat aboard, belonged to a Dutch fort (the only one they have in Timor) about 5 leagues from hence, called Concordia. The governor of the fort was in the sloop, and about 40 soldiers with him. He appeared to be somewhat surprised at our coming this way; which it seems is a passage scarce known to any but themselves; as he told the men I sent to him in my boat. Neither did he seem willing that we should come near their fort for water. He said also that he did not know of any water on all that part of the island, but only at the fort; and that the natives would kill us if they met us ashore. By the small arms my men carried with them in the boat they took us to be pirates, and would not easily believe the account my men gave them of what we were and whence we came. They said that about 2 years before this there had been a stout ship of French pirates here; and that after having been suffered to water, and to refresh themselves, and been kindly used, they had on a sudden gone among the Indians, subjects of the fort, and plundered them and burnt their houses. And the Portuguese here told us afterwards that those pirates, whom they also had entertained, had burnt their houses and had taken the Dutch fort (though the Dutch cared not to own so much) and had driven the governor and factory among the wild Indians their enemies. The Dutch told my men further that they could not but think we had of several nations (as is usual with pirate vessels) in our ship and particularly some Dutchmen, though all the discourse was in French (for I had not one who could speak Dutch) or else, since the common charts make no passage between Timor and Anabao, but lay down both as one island; they said they suspected we had plundered some Dutch ship of their particular charts, which they are forbid to part with. With these jealousies the sloop returned towards their fort, and my boat came back with this news to me: but I was not discouraged at this news; not doubting but I should persuade them better when I should come to talk with them. So the next morning I weighed and stood towards the fort. The winds were somewhat against us so that we could not go very fast, being obliged to tack 2 or 3 times: and, coming near the farther end of the passage between Timor and Anabao, we saw many houses on each side not far from the sea, and several boats lying by the shore. The land on both sides was pretty high, appearing very dry and of a reddish colour, but highest on the Timor side. The trees on either side were but small, the woods thin, and in many places the trees were dry and withered. THE ISLAND ANABAO DESCRIBED. The island Anamabao, or Anabao, is not very big, not exceeding 10 leagues in length and 4 in breadth; yet it has 2 kingdoms in it, namely that of Anamabao on the east side towards Timor and the north-east end; and that of Anabao, which contains the south-west end and the west side of the island; but I known not which of them is biggest. The natives of both are of the Indian kind, of a swarthy copper-colour, with black lank hair. Those of Anamabao are in league with the Dutch, as these afterwards told me, and with the natives of the kingdom of Kupang in Timor, over against them, in which the Dutch fort Concordia stands: but they are said to be inveterate enemies to their neighbours of Anabao. Those of Anabao, besides managing their small plantations of roots and a few coconuts, do fish, strike turtle, and hunt buffaloes, killing them with swords, darts, or lances. But I know not how they get their iron; I suppose by traffic with the Dutch or Portuguese, who send now and then a sloop and trade thither, but well armed; for the natives would kill them, could they surprise them. They go always armed themselves; and when they go a-fishing or a-hunting they spend 4 or 5 days or more in ranging about before they return to their habitation. We often saw them after this at these employments; but they would not come near us. The fish or flesh that they take, besides what serves for present spending, they dry on a barbecue or wooden grate, standing pretty high over the fire, and so carry it home when they return. We came sometimes afterwards to the places where they had meat thus a-drying, but did not touch any of it. But to proceed: I did not think to stop anywhere till I came near the fort; which yet I did not see: but, coming to the end of this passage, I found that if I went any farther I should be open again to the sea. I therefore stood in close to the shore on the east side, and anchored in 4 fathom water, sandy ground; a point of land still hindering me from seeing the fort. But I sent my boat to look about for it; and in a short time she returned, and my men told me they saw the fort, but did not go near it; and that it was not above 4 or 5 miles from hence. It being now late I would not send my boat thither till the next morning: meanwhile about 2 or 300 Indians, neighbours of the fort, and sent probably from thence, came to the sandy bay just against the ship; where they stayed all night, and made good fires. They were armed with lances, swords and targets, and made a great noise all the night: we thought it was to scare us from landing, should we attempt it: but we took little notice of them. THE AUTHOR'S PARLEY WITH THE GOVERNOR OF THE DUTCH FORT. THEY, WITH GREAT DIFFICULTY, OBTAIN LEAVE TO WATER. The next morning, being September the 23rd, I sent my clerk ashore in my pinnace to the governor to satisfy him that we were Englishmen: and in the King's ship, and to ask water of him; sending a young man with him who spoke French. My clerk was with the governor pretty early; and in answer to his queries about me, and my business in these parts, told him that I had the King of England's commission, and desired to speak with him. He beckoned to my clerk to come ashore; but as soon as he saw some small arms in the stern-sheets of the boat he commanded him into the boat again, and would have him be gone. My clerk solicited him that he would allow him to speak with him; and at last the governor consented that he should come ashore, and sent his lieutenant and 3 merchants with a guard of about a hundred of the native Indians to receive him. My clerk said that we were in much want of water, and hoped they would allow us to come to their watering-place and fill. But the governor replied that he had orders not to supply any ships but their own East India Company; neither must they allow any Europeans to come the way that we came; and wondered how we durst come near their fort. My clerk answered him that, had we been enemies, we must have come ashore among them for water: but, said the governor, you are come to inspect into our trade and strength; and I will have you therefore be gone with all speed. My clerk answered him that I had no such design but, without coming nearer them, would be contented if the governor would send water on board where we lay, about 2 leagues from the fort; and that I would make any reasonable satisfaction for it. The governor said that we should have what water we wanted, provided we came no nearer with the ship: and ordered that as soon as we pleased we should send our boat full of empty casks, and come to an anchor with it off the fort, till he sent slaves to bring the casks ashore and fill them; for that none of our men must come ashore. The same afternoon I sent up my boat as he had directed with an officer and a present of some beer for the governor; which he would not accept of, but sent me off about a ton of water. On the 24th in the morning I sent the same officer again in my boat; and about noon the boat returned again with the two principal merchants of the factory and the lieutenant of the fort; for whose security they had kept my officer and one of my boat's crew as hostages, confining them to the governor's garden all the time: for they were very shy of trusting any of them to go into their fort, as my officer said: yet afterwards they were not shy of our company; and I found that my officer maliciously endeavoured to make them shy of me. In the evening I gave the Dutch officers that came aboard the best entertainment I could; and, bestowing some presents on them, sent them back very well pleased; and my officer and the other man were returned to me. Next morning I sent my boat ashore again with the same officer; who brought me word from the governor that we must pay 4 Spanish dollars for every boat-load of water: but in this he spoke falsely, as I understood afterwards from the governor himself and all his officers, who protested to me that no such price was demanded, but left me to give the slaves what I pleased for their labour: the governor being already better satisfied about me than when my clerk spoke to him, or than that officer I sent last would have caused him to be: for the governor being a civil, genteel, and sensible man, was offended at the officer for his being so industrious to misrepresent me. I received from the governor a little lamb, very fat; and I sent him 2 of the guinea-hens that I brought from St. Jago, of which there were none here. I had now 11 buts of water on board, having taken in 7 here, which I would have paid for but that at present I was afraid to send my boat ashore again; for my officer told me, among other of his inventions, that there were more guns mounted in the fort than when we first came; and that he did not see the gentlemen that were aboard the day before; intimating as if they were shy of us; and that the governor was very rough with him; and I, not knowing to the contrary at present, consulted with my other officers what was best to be done; for by this the governor should seem to design to quarrel with us. All my other officers thought it natural to infer so much, and that it was not safe to send the boat ashore any more, lest it should be seized on; but that it was best to go away and seek more water where we could find it. For having now (as I said) 11 buts aboard; and the land being promising this way, I did not doubt finding water in a short time. But my officer who occasioned these fears in us by his own forgeries was himself for going no further; having a mind, as far as I could perceive, to make everything in the voyage, to which he showed himself averse, seem as cross and discouraging to my men as possible, that he might hasten our return; being very negligent and backward in most businesses I had occasion to employ him in; doing nothing well or willingly, though I did all I could to win him to it. He was also industrious to stir up the seamen to mutiny; telling them, among other things, that any Dutch ship might lawfully take us in these seas; but I knew better, and avoided everything that could give just offence. KUPANG BAY. The rest of my officers therefore being resolved to go from hence, and having bought some fish of some Anamabeans who, seeing our ship, came purposely to sell some, passing to and fro every day, I sailed away on the 26th about 5 in the afternoon. We passed along between a small low sandy island (over against the fort) full of bays and pretty high trees; sounding as we went along, and had from 25 to 35 fathom, oasy ground. See the little map of this passage Table 6 Number 1. The 27th in the morning we anchored in the middle of the bay, called Kupang Bay, in 12 fathom, soft oaze, about 4 leagues above the Dutch fort. Their sloop was riding by the fort, and in the night fired a gun; but for what reason I know not, and the governor said afterwards it was the skipper's own doing, without his order. Presently after we had anchored I went in the pinnace to search about the bay for water but found none. Then, returning aboard, I weighed, and ran down to the north entrance of the bay, and at 7 in the evening anchored again in 37 fathom, soft oaze, close by the sandy island, and about 4 leagues from the Dutch fort. The 28th I sent both my boats ashore on the sandy island to cut wood; and by noon they both came back laden. In the afternoon I sent my pinnace ashore on the north coast or point of Kupang Bay, which is called Babao. Late in the night they returned, and told me that they saw great tracks of buffaloes there, but none of the buffaloes themselves; neither did they find any fresh water. They also saw some green-turtle in the sea and one alligator. COASTING ALONG THE NORTH SIDE OF TIMOR. The 29th I went out of Kupang Bay, designing to coast it alongshore on the north side of Timor to the eastward; as well to seek for water, as also to acquaint myself with the island, and to search for the Portuguese settlements; which we were informed were about forty leagues to the eastward of this place. We coasted alongshore with land and seabreezes. The land by the shore was of a moderate height, with high and very remarkable hills farther within the country; their sides all spotted with woods and savannahs. But these on the mountains' sides appeared of a rusty colour, not so pleasant and flourishing as those that we saw on the south side of the island; for the trees seemed to be small and withering; and the grass in the savannahs also looked dry, as if it wanted moisture. But in the valleys, and by the sea side, the trees looked here also more green. Yet we saw no good anchoring-place, or opening, that gave us any encouragement to put in; till the 30th day in the afternoon. We were then running alongshore, at about 4 leagues distance, with a moderate seabreeze; when we opened a pretty deep bay which appeared to be a good road to anchor in. There were two large valleys and one smaller one which, descending from the mountains, came all into one valley by the seaside against this bay, which was full of tall green trees. I presently stood in with the ship till within two leagues of the shore; and then sent in my pinnace, commanded by my chief mate, whose great care, fidelity, and diligence I was well assured of; ordering him to seek for fresh water; and if he found any to sound the bay and bring me word what anchoring there was, and to make haste aboard. As soon as they were gone I stood off a little and lay by. The day was now far spent; and therefore it was late before they got ashore with the boat; so that they did not come aboard again that night. Which I was much concerned at; because in the evening, when the seabreeze was done and the weather calm, I perceived the ship to drive back again to the westward. I was not yet acquainted with the tides here; for I had hitherto met with no strong tides about the island, and scarce any running in a stream, to set me alongshore either way. But after this time I had pretty much of them; and found at present the flood set to the eastward, and the ebb to the westward. The ebb (with which I was now carried) sets very strong and runs 8 or 9 hours. The flood runs but weak, and at most lasts not above 4 hours; and this too is perceived only near the shore; where, checking the ebb, it swells the seas and makes the water rise in the bays and rivers 8 or 9 foot. I was afterwards credibly informed by some Portuguese that the current runs always to the westward in the mid-channel between this island and those that face it in a range to the north of it, namely Misicomba (or Omba) Pintare, Laubana, Ende, etc. THEY FIND WATER AND AN ANCHORING-PLACE. We were driven 4 leagues back again, and took particular notice of a point of land that looked like Flamborough Head, when we were either to the east or west of it; and near the shore it appeared like an island. Four or five leagues to the east of this point is another very remarkable bluff point which is on the west side of the bay that my boat was in. See two sights of this land, Table 6 Numbers 2 and 3. We could not stem the tide till about 3 o'clock in the afternoon; when, the tide running with us, we soon got abreast of the bay, and then saw a small island to the eastward of us. See a sight of it Table 6 Number 4. About 6 we anchored in the bottom of the bay in 25 fathom, soft oaze, half a mile from the shore. I made many false fires in the night, and now and then fired a gun that my boat might find me; but to no purpose. In the morning I found myself driven again by the tide of ebb 3 or 4 leagues to the westward of the place where I left my boat. I had several men looking out for her; but could not get sight of her: besides I continued still driving to the westward; for we had but little wind, and that against us. But by 10 o'clock in the morning we had the comfort of seeing the boat; and at 11 she came aboard, bringing 2 barrecoes of very good water. A DESCRIPTION OF A SMALL ISLAND, SEVEN LEAGUES EAST FROM THE WATERING BAY. The mate told me there was good anchoring close by the watering-place; but that there ran a very strong tide, which near the shore made several races, so that they found much danger in getting ashore, and were afraid to come off again in the night because of the ripplings the tide made. We had now the seabreeze, and steered away for this bay; but could hardly stem the tide till about 3 in the afternoon; when, the tide being turned with us, we went along briskly, and about 6 anchored in the bay, in 25 fathom, soft oaze, half a mile from the shore. The next morning I went ashore to fill water, and before night sent aboard 8 tons. We filled it out of a large pond within 50 paces of the sea. It looked pale but was very good, and boiled peas well. I saw the track of an alligator here. Not far from the pond we found the rudder of a Malayan proa, 3 great jars in a small shed set up against a tree, and a barbecue whereon there had been fish and flesh of buffaloes dressed, the bones lying but a little from it. In 3 days we filled about twenty-six tun of water, and then had on board about 30 tun in all. The 2 following days we spent in fishing with the seine, and the first morning caught as many as served all my ship's company: but afterwards we had not so good success. The rest of my men which could be spared from the ship I sent out; some with the carpenter's mate to cut timber for my boats, etc. These went always guarded with 3 or 4 armed men to secure them: I showed them what wood was fitting to cut for our use, especially the calabash and maho; I showed them always the manner of stripping the maho-bark, and of making therewith thread, twine, ropes, etc. Others were sent out a-fowling; who brought home pigeons, parrots, cockatoos, etc. I was always with one party or other myself; especially with the carpenters, to hasten them to get what they could, that we might be gone from hence. Our water being full, I sailed from hence October the 6th about 4 in the afternoon, designing to coast alongshore to the eastward, till I came to the Portuguese settlements. By the next morning we were driven 3 or 4 leagues to the west of the bay; but in the afternoon, having a faint seabreeze, we got again abreast of it. It was the 11th day at noon before we got as far as the small island before mentioned, which lies about 7 leagues to the east of the watering-bay: for what we gained in the afternoon by the benefit of the seabreezes we lost again in the evenings and mornings, while it was calm, in the interval of the breezes. But this day, the seabreeze blowing fresher than ordinary, we passed by the island and run before night about 7 leagues to the east of it. This island is not half a mile long, and not above 100 yards in breadth, and looked just like a barn when we were by it: it is pretty high, and may be seen from a ship's topmast-head about 10 leagues. The top, and part of the sides, are covered with trees, and it is about 3 leagues from Timor; it is about midway between the watering-place and the Portuguese first and main settlement by the shore. LAPHAO BAY. HOW THE AUTHOR WAS TREATED BY THE PORTUGUESE THERE. In the night we were again driven back toward the island, 3 leagues: but the 12th day, having a pretty brisk seabreeze, we coasted alongshore; and, seeing a great many houses by the sea, I stood in with my ship till I was within 2 miles of them, and then sent in my boat and lay by till it returned. I sent an officer to command the boat; and a Portuguese seaman, that I brought from Brazil, to speak with the men that we saw on the bay; there being a great many of them, both foot and horse. I could not tell what officer there might be amongst them; but I ordered my officer to tell the chief of them that we were English, and came hither for refreshment. As soon as the boat came ashore and the inhabitants were informed who we were they were very glad, and sent me word that I was welcome, and should have anything that the island afforded; and that I must run a little farther about a small point, where I should see more houses; and that the men would stand on the bay, right against the place where I must anchor. With this news the boat immediately returned; adding withal that the governor lived about 7 miles up in the country; and that the chief person here was a lieutenant, who desired me, as soon as the ship was at anchor, to send ashore one of my officers to go to the governor and certify him of our arrival. I presently made sail towards the anchoring-place, and at 5 o'clock anchored in Laphao Bay in 20 fathom, soft oaze, over against the town. A description of which, and of the Portuguese settlement there, shall be given in the following chapter. As soon as I came to anchor I sent my boat ashore with my second mate, to go to the governor. The lieutenant that lived here had provided horses and guides for him, and sent 4 soldiers with him for his guard, and, while he was absent, treated my men with arack at his own house, where he and some others of the townsmen showed them many broad thin pieces of gold; telling them that they had plenty of that metal and would willingly traffic with them for any sort of European commodities. About 11 o'clock my mate returned on board and told me he had been in the country, and was kindly received by the gentleman he went to wait upon; who said we were welcome, and should have anything the island afforded; and that he was not himself the governor, but only a deputy. He asked why we did not salute their fort when we anchored; my mate answered that we saw no colours flying, and therefore did not know there was any fort till he came ashore and saw the guns; and if we had known that there was a fort yet that we could not have given any salute till we knew that they would answer it with the like number of guns. The deputy said it was very well; and that he had but little powder; and therefore would gladly buy some of us, if we had any to spare; which my mate told him we had not. The 13th the deputy sent me aboard a present of 2 young buffaloes, 6 goats, 4 kids, 140 coconuts, 300 ripe mangoes, and 6 ripe jacks. This was all very acceptable; and all the time we lay here we had fresh provision, and plenty of fruits; so that those of my men that were sick of the scurvy soon recovered and grew lusty. I stayed here till the 22nd, went ashore several times, and once purposely to see the deputy, who came out of the country also on purpose to see and talk with me. And then indeed there were guns fired for salutes, both aboard my ship and at the fort. Our interview was in a small church which was filled with the better sort of people; her poorer sort thronging on the outside, and looking in upon us: for the church had no wall but at the east end; the sides and the west end being open, saving only that it had boards about 3 or 4 foot high from the ground. I saw but 2 white men among them all; one was a padre that came along with the lieutenant; the other was an inhabitant of the town. The rest were all copper-coloured, with black lank hair. I stayed there about 2 hours, and we spoke to each other by an interpreter. I asked particularly about the seasons of the year, and when they expected the north-north-west monsoon. The deputy told me that they expected the wind to shift every moment; and that some years the north-north-west monsoon set in in September, but never failed to come in October; and for that reason desired me to make what haste I could from hence; for it was impossible to ride here when those winds came. DESIGNS OF MAKING FURTHER SEARCHES UPON AND ABOUT THE ISLAND. PORT SESIAL. I asked him if there was no harbour hereabouts where I might be secured from the fury of these winds at their first coming. He told me that the best harbour in the island was at a place called Babao on the north side of Kupang Bay; that there were no inhabitants there, but plenty of buffaloes in the woods, and abundance of fish in the sea; that there was also fresh water: that there was another place, called port Sesial, about 20 leagues to the eastward of Laphao; that there was a river of fresh water there, and plenty of fish, but no inhabitants: yet that if I would go thither he would send people with hogs, goats and buffaloes, to truck with me for such commodities as I had to dispose of. I was afterwards told that on the east end of the island Ende there was also a very good harbour, and a Portuguese town; that there was great plenty of refreshments for my men, and dammer for my ship; that the governor or chief of that place was called Captain More; that he was a very courteous gentleman, and would be very glad to entertain an English ship there; and if I designed to go thither, I might have pilots here that would be willing to carry me, if I could get the lieutenant's consent. That it was dangerous going thither without a pilot, by reason of the violent tides that run between the islands Ende and Solor. I was told also that at the island Solor there were a great many Dutchmen banished from other places for certain crimes. I was willing enough to go thither, as well to secure my ship in a good harbour, where I might careen her (there being dammer also, which I could not get here, to make use of instead of pitch, which I now wanted) and where I might still be refreshing my men and supporting them in order to my further discoveries; as also to inform myself more particularly concerning these places as yet so little known to us. Accordingly I accepted the offer of a pilot and two gentlemen of the town, to go with me to Larentuca on the island Ende: and they were to come on board my ship the night before I sailed. But I was hindered of this design by some of my officers who had here also been very busy in doing me all the injury they could underhand. But to proceed. While I stayed here I went ashore every day and my men took there turns to go ashore and traffic for what they had occasion for; and were now all very well again: and to keep themselves in heart every man bought some rice, more or less, to recruit them after our former fatigues. Besides, I ordered the purser to buy some for them, to serve them instead of peas which were now almost spent. I filled up my water-casks again here, and cut more wood; and sent a present to the lieutenant, Alexis Mendosa, designing to be gone; for while I lay here we had some tornadoes and rain, and the sky in the north-west looked very black mornings and evenings, with lightning all night from that quarter, which made me very uneasy and desirous to depart hence; because this road lay exposed to the north-north-west and north winds, which were now daily expected and which are commonly so violent that it is impossible for any ship to ride them out: yet on the other hand it was absolutely necessary for me to spend about 2 months time longer in some place hereabouts before I could prosecute my voyage farther to the eastward; for reasons which I shall give hereafter in its proper place in the ensuing discourse. When therefore I sent the present to the governor I desired to have a pilot to Larentuca on the island Ende; where I desired to spend the time I had to spare. He now sent me word that he could not well do it, but would send me a letter to Port Sesial for the natives, who would come to me there and supply me with what provision they had. I stayed 3 days in hopes yet to get a pilot for Larentuca, or at least the letter from the governor to Port Sesial. But seeing neither I sailed from hence the 22nd of October, coasting to the eastward, designing for Sesial; and before night was about 10 leagues to the east of Laphao. I kept about 3 leagues offshore and my boat ranged along close by the shore, looking into every bay and cove; and at night returned on board. The next morning, being 3 or 4 leagues farther to the eastward, I sent my boat ashore again to find Sesial. At noon they returned and told me they had been at Sesial, as they guessed; that there were two Portuguese barks in the port who threatened to fire at them but did not; telling them this was Porto del Roy de Portugal. They saw also another bark which ran and anchored close by the shore, and the men ran all away for fear: but our men calling to them in Portuguese, they at last came to them, and told them that Sesial was the place which they came from, where the 2 barks lay: had not these men told them they could not have known it to be a port, it being only a little bad cove, lying open to the north; having 2 ledges of rocks at its entrance, one on each side; and a channel between, which was so narrow that it would not be safe for us to go in. However I stood in with the ship, to be better satisfied; and when I came near it found it answer my men's description. I lay by a while to consider what I had best do; for my design was to lie in a place where I might get fresh provisions if I could: for, though my men were again pretty well recruited, and those that had been sick of the scurvy were well again, yet I designed if possible to refresh them as much and as long as I could before I went farther. Besides my ship wanted cleaning; and I was resolved to clean her if possible. RETURN TO BABAO IN KUPANG BAY. At last after much consideration I thought it safer to go away again for Babao; and accordingly stood to the westward. We were now about 60 leagues to the east of Babao. The coast is bold all the way, having no shoals, and but one island which I saw and described coming to the eastward. The land in the country is very mountainous; but there are some large valleys towards the east end. Both the mountains and valleys on this side are barren; some wholly so; and none of them appear so pleasant as the place where I watered. It was the 23rd day in the evening when I stood back again for Babao. We had but small sea and land-breezes. On the 27th we came into Kupang Bay; and the next day, having sounded Babao road, I ran in and came to an anchor there, in 20 fathom, soft oaze, 3 mile from the shore. One reason, as I said before, of my coming hither, was to ride secure and to clean my ship's bottom; as also to endeavour by fishing and hunting of buffaloes to refresh my men and save my salt provision. It was like to be some time before I could clean my ship because I wanted a great many necessaries, especially a vessel to careen by. I had a long-boat in a frame that I brought out of England, by which I might have made a shift to do it; but my carpenter was uncapable to set her up. Besides, by the time the ship's sides were caulked, my pitch was almost spent; which was all owing to the carpenter's wilful waste and ignorance; so that I had nothing to lay on upon the ship's bottom. But instead of this I intended to make lime here, which with oil would have made a good coat for her. Indeed had it been advisable I would have gone in between Cross Island and Timor, and have hauled my ship ashore; for there was a very convenient place to do it in; but, my ship being sharp, I did not dare to do it: besides, I must have taken everything out of her; and I had neither boats to get my things ashore nor hands to look after them when they were there; for my men would have been all employed; and, though here are no Indians living near, yet they come hither in companies when ships are here, on purpose to do any mischief they can to them; and it was not above 2 years since a Portuguese ship riding here, and sending her boat for water to one of the galleys, the men were all killed by the Indians. But to secure my men I never suffered them to go ashore unarmed; and while some were at work others stood to guard them. We lay in this place from October the 28th till December the 12th. In which time we made very good lime with shells, of which here are plenty. We cut palmetto leaves to burn the ship's sides; and, giving her as good a heel as we could, we burned her sides and paid them with lime and water for want of oil to mix with it. This stuck on about 2 months where it was well burned. We did not want fresh provisions all the time we lay here, either of fish or flesh. For there were fair sandy bays on the point of Babao, where in 2 or 3 hours in a morning we used with our seine to drag ashore as much fish as we could eat all the day; and for a change of diet when we were weary of fish I sent 10 or 11 men a-hunting for buffaloes; who never came empty home. They went ashore in the evening or early in the morning, and before noon always returned with their burdens of buffalo, enough to suffice us 2 days; by which time we began to long for fish again. THE AUTHOR'S ENTERTAINMENT AT THE FORT OF CONCORDIA. On the 11th of November the governor of Concordia sent one of his officers to us to know who we were. For I had not sent thither since I came to anchor last here. When the officer came aboard he asked me why we fired so many guns the 4th and 5th days (which we had done in honour of King William and in memory of the deliverance from the powder plot) I told him the occasion of it; and he replied that they were in some fear at the fort that we had been Portuguese, and that we were coming with soldiers to take their fort; he asked me also why I did not stay and fill my water at their fort before I went away from thence? I told him the reason of it and withal offered him money; bidding him take what he thought reasonable: he took none and said he was sorry there had been such a misunderstanding between us; and knew that the governor would be much concerned at it. After a short stay he went ashore; and the next morning came aboard again, and told me the governor desired me to come ashore to the fort and dine with him; and if I doubted anything he would stay aboard till I returned. I told him I had no reason to mistrust anything against me, and would go ashore with him; so I took my clerk and my gunner and went ashore in my pinnace: the gunner spoke very good French, and therefore I took him to be my interpreter because the governor speaks French: he was an honest man, and I found him always diligent and obedient. It was pretty late in the afternoon before we came ashore; so that we had but little time with the governor. He seemed to be much dissatisfied at the report my officer had made to me (of which I have before given an account) and said it was false, neither would he now take any money of me; but told me I was welcome; as indeed I found by what he provided. For there was plenty of very good victuals, and well dressed; and the linen was white and clean; and all the dishes and plates of silver or fine china. I did not meet anywhere with a better entertainment while I was abroad; nor with so much decency and order. Our liquor was wine, beer, toddy, or water, which we liked best after dinner. He showed me some drawers full of shells which were the strangest and most curious that I had ever seen. He told me before I went away that he could not supply me with any naval stores, but if I wanted any fresh provision he would supply me with what I had occasion for. I thanked him and told him I would send my boat for some goats and hogs, though afterwards on second thoughts I did not do it: for it was a great way from the place where we lay to the fort; and I could not tell what mischief might befall any of my men when there from the natives; especially if encouraged by the Dutch, who are enemies to all Europeans but such as are under their own government. Therefore I chose rather to fish and hunt for provisions than to be beholden to the Dutch and pay dearly for it too. HIS STAY SEVEN WEEKS AT BABAO. We found here, as I said before, plenty of game; so that all the time we lay at this place we spent none or very little of our salt provisions; having fish or fresh buffalo every day. We lay here 7 weeks; and, although the north-north-west monsoon was every day expected when I was at Laphao, yet it was not come, so that if I had prosecuted my voyage to the eastward without staying here it had been but to little advantage. For if I had gone out and beaten against the wind a whole month I should not have got far; it may be 40, 50 or 60 leagues; which was but 24 hours run for us with a large wind; besides the trouble and discontent which might have arisen among my men in beating to windward to so little purpose, there being nothing to be got at sea; but here we lived and did eat plentifully every day without trouble. The greatest inconveniency of this place was want of water; this being the latter part of the dry season, because the monsoon was very late this year. About 4 days before we came away we had tornadoes with thunder, lightning and rain, and much wind; but of no long continuance; at which time we filled some water. We saw very black clouds, and heard it thunder every day for near a month before in the mountains; and saw it rain, but none came near us: and even where we hunted we saw great trees torn up by the roots, and great havoc made among the woods by the wind; yet none touched us. CHAPTER 2. A DESCRIPTION OF TIMOR. A PARTICULAR DESCRIPTION OF THE ISLAND TIMOR. The island Timor, as I have said in my Voyage round the World, is about seventy leagues long and fourteen or sixteen broad. It lies nearly north-east and south-west. The middle of it lies in about 9 degrees south latitude. It has no navigable rivers nor many harbours; but abundance of bays for ships to ride in at some seasons of the year. The shore is very bold, free from rocks, shoals or islands, excepting a few which are visible and therefore easily avoided. On the south side there is a shoal laid down in our charts about thirty leagues from the south-west end; I was fifteen or twenty leagues further to the east than that distance, but saw nothing of the shoal; neither could I find any harbour. It is a pretty even shore, with sandy bays and low land for about three or four miles up; and then it is mountainous. There is no anchoring but with half a league or a league at farthest from the shore; and the low land that bounds the sea has nothing but red mangroves, even from the foot of the mountains till you come within a hundred and fifty or two hundred paces of the sea; and then you have sandbanks clothed with a sort of pine; so that there is no getting water on this side because of the mangroves. THE ISLAND ANABAO. FAULT OF THE CHARTS. THE CHANNEL BETWEEN TIMOR AND ANABAO. At the south-west end of Timor is a pretty high island called Anabao. It is about ten or twelve leagues long and about four broad; near which the Dutch are settled. It lies so near Timor that it is laid down in our charts as part of that island; yet we found a narrow deep channel fit for any ships to pass between them. This channel is about ten leagues long and in some places not above a league wide. It runs north-east and south-west, so deep that there is no anchoring but very nigh the shore. There is but little tide; the flood setting north and the ebb to the southward. At the north-east end of this channel are two points of land not above a league asunder; one on the south side upon Timor, called Kupang; the other on the north side, upon the island Anabao. From this last point the land trends away northerly two or three leagues, opens to the sea, and then bends in again to the westward. KUPANG BAY. FORT CONCORDIA. Being past these points you open a bay of about eight leagues long and four wide. This bay trends in on the south side north-east by east from the south point before mentioned; making many small points or little coves. About a league to the east of the said south point the Dutch have a small stone fort, situated on a firm rock close by the sea: this fort they call Concordia. On the east side of the fort there is a small river of fresh water which has a broad boarded bridge over it, near to the entry into the fort. Beyond this river is a small sandy bay where the boats and barks land and convey their traffic in or out of the fort. About a hundred yards from the seaside, and as many from the fort, and forty yards from the bridge on the east side, the Company have a fine garden, surrounded with a good stone wall; in it is plenty of all sorts of salads, cabbages, roots for the kitchen; in some parts of it are fruit-trees, as jacas, pumplenose, oranges, sweet lemons, etc. And by the walls are coconut and toddy-trees in great plenty. Besides these they have musk and watermelons, pineapples, pomecitrons, pomegranates, and other sorts of fruits. Between this garden and the river there is a pen for black cattle, whereof they have plenty. Beyond the Company's ground the natives have their houses, in number about fifty or sixty. There are forty or fifty soldiers belonging to this fort, but I know not how many guns they have; for I had only opportunity to see one bastion, which had in it four guns. Within the walls there is a neat little church or chapel. A PARTICULAR DESCRIPTION OF THE BAY. Beyond Concordia the land runs about seven leagues to the bottom of the bay; then it is not above a league and a half from side to side, and the land trends away northerly to the north shore, then turns about again to the westward, making the south side of the bay. About three leagues and a half from the bottom of the bay on this side there is a small island about a musket-shot from the shore; and a reef of rocks that runs from it to the eastward about a mile. On the west side of the island is a channel of three fathom at low-water, of which depth it is also within, where ships may haul in and careen. West from this island the land rounds away in a bight or elbow, and at last ends in a low point of land which shoots forth a ledge of rocks a mile into the sea, which is dry at low water. Just against the low point of land and to the west of the ledge of rocks is another pretty high and rocky yet woody island, about half a mile from the low point; which island has a ledge of corally rocks running from it all along to the other small island, only leaving one channel between them. Many of these rocks are to be seen at low-water, and there seldom is water enough for a boat to go over them till quarter flood or more. Within this ledge there is two or three fathom water, and without it no less than ten or twelve fathom close to the rocks. A league without this last rocky island is another small low sandy island, about four miles from the low point, three leagues from the Dutch fort Concordia and three leagues and a half from the south-west point of the bay. Ships that come in this way must pass between this low isle and the low point, keeping near the isle. THE ANCHORING-PLACE, CALLED BABAO. In this bay there is any depth of water from thirty to three fathom, very good oazy holding ground. This affords the best shelter against all winds of any place about the island Timor. But from March to October, while either the southerly winds or only land and seabreezes hold, the Concordia side is best to ride in; but when the more violent northerly winds come then the best riding is between the two rocky islands in nineteen or twenty fathom. If you bring the westernmost island to bear south-west by west about a league distance, and the low point west by south; then the body of the sandy island will bear south-west half west, distance two leagues; and the ledges of rocks shooting from each make such a bar that no sea can come in. Then you have the land from west by south to east-north-east to defend you on that side: and other winds do not here blow violently. But if they did yet you are so land-locked that there can be no sea to hurt you. This anchoring-place is called Babao, about five leagues from Concordia. The greatest inconveniency in it is the multitude of worms. Here is fresh water enough to be had in the wet season; every little gulley discharging fresh water into the sea. THE MALAYANS HERE KILL ALL THE EUROPEANS THEY CAN. In the dry season you must search for it in standing ponds or gulleys, where the wild buffaloes, hogs, etc. resort every morning and evening to drink; where you may lie and shoot them, taking care that you go strong enough and well-armed against the natives upon all occasions. For though there are no inhabitants near this place yet the Malayans come in great companies when ships are here; and if they meet with any Europeans they kill them, of what nation soever they be, not excepting the Portuguese themselves. It is but two years since a Portuguese ship riding here had all the boat's crew cut off as they were watering; as I was informed by the Dutch. Here likewise is plenty of fish of several sorts, which may be caught with a seine; also tortoise and oysters. From the north-east point of this bay, on the north side of the island, the land trends away north-north-east for four or five leagues; afterward north-east or more easterly; and when you are fourteen or fifteen leagues to the eastward of Babao you come up with a point that makes like Flamborough Head, if you are pretty nigh the land; but if at a distance from it on either side it appears like an island. This point is very remarkable, there being none other like it in all this island. When you are abreast of this point you will see another point about four leagues to the eastward; and when you are abreast of this latter point you will see a small island bearing east or east by north (according to your distance from the land) just rising out of the water: when you see it plain you will be abreast of a pretty deep sandy bay, which has a point in the middle that comes sloping from the mountains with a curious valley on each side: the sandy bay runs from one valley to the other. You may sail into this bay, and anchor a little to the eastward of the point in twenty fathom water, half a mile from the shore, soft oaze. Then you will be about two leagues from the west point of the bay, and about eight leagues from the small island before mentioned, which you can see pretty plain bearing east-north-east a little northwardly. Some other marks are set down in the foregoing chapter. In this sandy bay you will find fresh water in two or three places. At spring tides you will see many ripplings, like shoals; but they are only eddies caused by the two points of the bay. We saw smokes all day up in the mountains, and fires by night, at certain places where we supposed the natives lived, but saw none of them. The tides ran between the two points of the bay, very strong and uncertain: yet it did not rise and fall above nine foot upon a spring tide: but it made great ripplings and a roaring noise, whirling about like whirlpools. We had constantly eddy tides under the shore, made by the points on each side of the bay. LAPHAO, A PORTUGUESE SETTLEMENT, DESCRIBED. When you go hence to the eastward you may pass between the small island and Timor; and when you are five or six leagues to the eastward of the small island you will see a large valley to the eastward of you; then, running a little further, you may see houses on the bay: you may luff in, but anchor not till you go about the next point. Then you will see more houses where you may run in to twenty or thirty fathom, and anchor right against the houses, nearest the west end of them. This place is called Laphao. It is a Portuguese settlement, about sixteen leagues from the watering-bay. There are in it about forty or fifty houses and one church. The houses are mean and low, the walls generally made of mud or wattled, and their sides made up with boards: they are all thatched with palm or palmetto leaves. The church also is very small: the east end of it is boarded up to the top; but the sides and the west end are only boarded three or four foot high; the rest is all open: there is a small altar in it, with two steps to go up to it, and an image or two; but all very mean. It is also thatched with palm or palmetto leaves. Each house has a yard belonging to it, fenced about with wild canes nine or ten foot high. There is a well in each yard, and a little bucket with a string to it to draw water withal. There is a trunk of a tree made hollow, placed in each well, to keep the earth from falling in. Round the yards there are many fruit-trees planted; as coconuts, tamarinds and toddy-trees. They have a small hovel by the sea side where there are six small old iron guns standing on a decayed platform, in rotten carriages. Their vents are so big that when they are fired, the strength of the powder flying out there, they give but a small report like that of a musket. This is their court of guard; and here were a few armed men watching all the time we lay here. The inhabitants of the town are chiefly a sort of Indians of a copper-colour, with black lank hair: they speak Portuguese and are of the Romish religion; but they take the liberty to eat flesh when they please. They value themselves on the account of their religion and descent from the Portuguese; and would be very angry if a man should say they are not Portuguese; yet I saw but three white men here, two of which were padres. There are also a few Chinese living here. It is a place of pretty good trade and strength, the best on this island, Porta Nova excepted. They have three or four small barks belonging to the place; with which they trade chiefly about the island with the natives for wax, gold, and sandalwood. Sometimes they go to Batavia and fetch European commodities, rice, etc. The Chinese trade hither from Macao; and I was informed that about twenty sail of small vessels come from thence hither every year. They bring coarse rice, adulterated gold, tea, iron, and iron tools, porcelain, silks, etc. They take in exchange pure gold, as it is gathered in the mountains, beeswax, sandalwood, slaves, etc. Sometimes also here comes a ship from Goa. Ships that trade here began to come hither the latter end of March; and none stay here longer than the latter end of August. For should they be here while the north-north-west monsoon blows no cables nor anchors would hold them; but they would be driven ashore and dashed in pieces presently. But from March till September, while the south-south-east monsoon blows, ships ride here very secure; for then, though the wind often blows hard, yet it is offshore; so that there is very smooth water, and no fear of being driven ashore; and yet even then they moor with three cables; two towards the land, eastward and westward; and the third right off to seaward. As this is the second place of traffic so it is in strength the second place the Portuguese have here, though not capable of resisting a hundred men: for the pirates that were at the Dutch fort came hither also; and after they had filled their water and cut firewood and refreshed themselves, they plundered the houses, set them on fire, and went away. Yet I was told that the Portuguese can draw together five or six hundred men in twenty-four hours time, all armed with hand-guns, swords and pistols; but powder and bullets are scarce and dear. The chief person they have on the island is named Antonio Henriquez; they call him usually by the title of Captain More or Maior. They say he is a white man, and that he was sent hither by the viceroy of Goa. I did not see him; for he lives, as I was informed, a great way from hence, at a place called Porta Nova, which is at the east end of the island, and by report is a good harbour; but they say that this Captain More goes frequently to wars in company with the Indians that are his neighbours and friends, against other Indians that are their enemies. The next man to him is Alexis Mendosa; he is a lieutenant, and lives six or seven miles from hence, and rules this part of the country. He is a little man of the Indian race, copper-coloured, with black lank hair. He speaks both the Indian and Portuguese languages; is a Roman Catholic, and seems to be a civil brisk man. There is another lieutenant at Laphao; who is also an Indian; speaks both his own and the Portuguese language very well; is old and infirm, but was very courteous to me. They boast very much of their strength here, and say they are able at any time to drive the Dutch away from the island, had they permission from the king of Portugal so to do. But though they boast thus of their strength yet really they are very weak; for they have but a few small arms and but little powder: they have no fort, nor magazine of arms; nor does the viceroy of Goa send them any now: for though they pretend to be under the king of Portugal they are a sort of lawless people, and are under no government. It was not long since the viceroy of Goa sent a ship hither, and a land-officer to remain here: but Captain More put him in irons, and sent him aboard the ship again; telling the commander that he had no occasion for any officers; and that he could make better officers here than any that could be sent him from Goa: and I know not whether there has been any other ship sent from Goa since: so that they have no supplies from thence: yet they need not want arms and ammunition, seeing they trade to Batavia. However they have swords and lances as other Indians have; and though they are ambitious to be called Portuguese, and value themselves on their religion, yet most of the men and all the women that live here are Indians; and there are very few right Portuguese in any part of the island. However of those that call themselves Portuguese I was told there are some thousands; and I think their strength consists more in their numbers than in good arms or discipline. The land from hence trends away east by north about 14 leagues, making many points and sandy bays, where vessels may anchor. PORT CICCALE. Fourteen leagues east from Laphao there is a small harbour called Ciccale by the Portuguese, and commended by them for an excellent port; but it is very small, has a narrow entrance, and lies open to northerly winds: though indeed there are two ledges of rocks, one shooting out from the west point and the other from the east point, which break off the sea; for the rocks are dry at low water. This place is about 60 leagues from the south-west end of the island. THE HILLS, WATER, LOWLANDS, SOIL, WOODS, METALS, IN THE ISLAND TIMOR. The whole of this island Timor is a very uneven rough country, full of hills and small valleys. In the middle of it there runs a chain of high mountains, almost from one end to the other. It is indifferently well watered (even in the dry times) with small brooks and springs, but no great rivers; the island being but narrow, and such a chain of mountains in the middle that no water can run far; but, as the springs break out on one side or other of the hills, they make their nearest course to the sea. In the wet season the valleys and low lands by the sea are overflown with water; and then the small drills that run into the sea are great rivers; and the gullies, which are dry for 3 or 4 months before, now discharge an impetuous torrent. The low land by the seaside is for the most part friable, loose, sandy soil; yet indifferently fertile and clothed with woods. The mountains are chequered with woods and some spots of savannahs: some of the hills are wholly covered with tall, flourishing trees; others but thinly; and these few trees that are on them, look very small, rusty and withered; and the spots of savannahs among them appear rocky and barren. Many of the mountains are rich in gold, copper, or both: the rains wash the gold out of mountains, which the natives pick up in the adjacent brooks, as the Spaniards do in America: how they get the copper I know not. ITS TREES. The trees that grow naturally here are of divers sorts; many of them wholly unknown to me; but such as I have seen in America or other places, and grow here likewise, are these, namely mangrove, white, red and black; maho, calabash, several sorts of the palm kind: the cotton-trees are not large, but tougher than those in America: here are also locust-trees of 2 or 3 sorts, bearing fruit, but not like those I have formerly seen; these bear a large white blossom, and yield much fruit but, it is not sweet. CANA-FISTULA-TREE DESCRIBED. Cana-fistula-trees are very common here; the tree is about the bigness of our ordinary apple-trees; their branches not thick, nor full of leaves. These and the before-mentioned blossom in October and November; the blossoms are much like our apple-tree blossoms, and about that bigness: at first they are red; but before they fall off, when spread abroad, they are white; so that these trees in their season appear extraordinarily pleasant, and yield a very fragrant smell. When the fruit is ripe it is round, and about the bigness of a man's thumb; of a dark brown colour, inclining to red, and about 2 foot or 2 foot and a half long. We found many of them under the trees, but they had no pulp in them. The partitions in the middle are much at the same distance with those brought to England, of the same substance, and such small flat seed in them: but whether they be the true cana-fistula or no I cannot tell, because I found no black pulp in them. The calabashes here are very prickly: the trees grow tall and tapering; whereas in the West Indies they are low and spread much abroad. Here are also wild tamarind-trees, not as large as the true; though much resembling them both in the bark and leaf. WILD FIGTREES DESCRIBED. Wild fig trees here are many, but not so large as those in America. The fruit grows not on the branches singly like those in America, but in strings and clusters, 40 or 50 in a cluster, about the body and great branches of the tree, from the very root up to the top. These figs are about the bigness of a crab-apple, of a greenish colour, and full of small white seeds; they smell pretty well, but have no juice or taste; they are ripe in November. Here likewise grows sandalwood, and many more sorts of trees fit for any uses. The tallest among them resemble our pines; they are straight and clear-bodied, but not very thick; the inside is reddish near the heart and hard and ponderous. TWO NEW SORTS OF PALMTREES DESCRIBED. Of the palm kind there are 3 or 4 sorts; two of which kinds I have not seen anywhere but here. Both sorts are very large and tall. The first sort had trunks of about 7 or eight foot in circumference and about 80 or 90 foot high. These had branches at the top like coconut-trees, and their fruit like coconuts, but smaller: the nut was of an oval form, and about the bigness of a duck's egg: the shell black and very hard. It was almost full of kernel, having only a small empty space in the middle, but no water as coconuts have. The kernel is too hard to be eaten. The fruit somewhat resembles that in Brazil formerly mentioned. The husk or outside of the fruit was very yellow, soft and pulpy when ripe; and full of small fibres; and when it fell down from the trees would mash and smell unsavoury. The other sort was as big and tall as the former; the body growing straight up without limbs, as all trees of the palm kind do: but, instead of a great many long green branches growing from the head of the tree, these had short branches about the bigness of a man's arm, and about a foot long; each of which spread itself into a great many small tough twigs, that hung full of fruit like so many ropes of onions. The fruit was as big as a large plum; and every tree had several bushels of fruit. The branches that bore this fruit sprouted out at about 50 or 60 foot height from the ground. The trunk of the tree was all of one bigness from the ground to that height; but from thence it went tapering smaller and smaller to the top, where it was no bigger than a man's leg, ending in a stump: and there was no green about the tree but the fruit; so that it appeared like a dead trunk. Besides fruit trees here were many sorts of tall straight-bodied timber-trees; one sort of which was like pine. These grow plentifully all round the island by the seaside, but not far within land. It is hard wood, of a reddish colour, and very ponderous. THE FRUITS OF THE ISLAND. The fruits of this island are guavas, mangoes, jacas, coconuts, plantains, bananas, pineapples, citrons, pomegranates, oranges, lemons, limes, musk-melons, watermelons, pumpkins, etc. Many of these have been brought hither by the Dutch and Portuguese; and most of them are ripe in September and October. There were many other excellent fruits, but not now in season; as I was informed both by the Dutch and Portuguese. THE HERBS. Here I met with an herb which in the West Indies we call calalaloo. It grows wild here. I ate of it several times and found it as pleasant and wholesome as spinach. Here are also parsley, samphire, etc. Indian corn thrives very well here, and is the common food of the islanders; though the Portuguese and their friends sow some rice, but not half enough for their subsistence. ITS LAND ANIMALS. The land animals are buffaloes, beeves, horses, hogs, goats, sheep, monkeys, iguanas, lizards, snakes, scorpions, centumpees, etc. Beside the tame hogs and buffaloes, there are many wild all over the country, which any may freely kill. As for the beeves, horses, goats, and sheep, it is probable they were brought in by the Portuguese or Dutch; especially the beeves; for I saw none but at the Dutch fort Concordia. We also saw monkeys and some snakes. One sort yellow, and as big as a man's arm, and about 4 foot long: another sort no bigger than the stem of a tobacco pipe, about 5 foot long, green all over his body, and with a flat red head as big as a man's thumb. FOWLS. THE RINGING-BIRD. The fowls are wild cocks and hens, eagles, hawks, crows, 2 sorts of pigeons, turtledoves, 3 or 4 sorts of parrots, parakeets, cockatoos, blackbirds; besides a multitude of smaller birds of divers colours, whose charming music makes the woods very pleasant. One sort of these pretty little birds my men called the ringing-bird; because it had 6 notes, and always repeated all his notes twice one after another; beginning high and shrill and ending low. This bird was about the bigness of a lark, having a small sharp black bill and blue wings; the head and breast were of a pale red, and there was a blue streak about its neck. Here are also sea- or waterfowls, as men-of-war-birds, boobies, fishing-hawks, herons, galdens, crab-catchers, etc. The tame fowl are cocks, hens, ducks, geese; the 2 last sorts I only saw at the Dutch fort, of the other sort there are not many but among the Portuguese: the woods abound with bees, which make much honey and wax. ITS FISH. COCKLE MERCHANTS AND OYSTERS. COCKLES AS BIG AS A MAN'S HEAD. The sea is very well stocked with fish of divers sorts, namely mullet, bass, bream, snook, mackerel, parracoots, garfish, ten-pounders, scuttle-fish, stingrays, whiprays, rasperages, cockle-merchants, or oyster-crackers, cavallies, conger-eels, rock-fish, dog-fish, etc. The rays are so plentiful that I never drew the seine but I caught some of them; which we salted and dried. I caught one whose tail was 13 foot long. The cockle-merchants are shaped like cavallies, and about their bigness. They feed on shellfish, having 2 very hard, thick, flat bones in their throat, with which they break in pieces the shells of the fish they swallow. We always find a great many shells in their maws, crushed in pieces. The shellfish are oysters of 3 sorts, namely long-oysters, common oysters, growing upon rocks in great abundance and very flat; and another sort of large oysters, fat and crooked; the shell of this not easily to be distinguished from a stone. Three or four of these roasted will suffice a man for one meal. Cockles, as big as a man's head; of which 2 or 3 are enough for a meal; they are very fat and sweet. Crawfish, shrimps, etc. Here are also many green-turtle, some alligators and grandpisces, etc. ITS ORIGINAL NATIVES DESCRIBED. The original natives of this island are Indians, they are of a middle stature, straight-bodied, slender-limbed, long-visaged; their hair black and lank; their skins very swarthy. They are very dexterous and nimble, but withal lazy in the high degree. They are said to be dull in everything but treachery and barbarity. Their houses are but low and mean, their clothing only a small cloth about their middle; but some of them for ornament have frontlets of mother-of-pearl, or thin pieces of silver or gold, made of an oval form of the breadth of a crown-piece, curiously notched round the edges; five of these placed one by another a little above the eyebrows making a sufficient guard and ornament for their forehead. They are so thin and placed on their foreheads so artificially that they seem reverted thereon: and indeed the pearl-oyster shells make a more splendid show than either silver or gold. Others of them have palmetto-caps made in divers forms. As to their marriages they take as many wives as they can maintain; and sometimes they sell their children to purchase more wives. I enquired about their religion and was told they had none. Their common subsistence is by Indian corn, which every man plants for himself. They take but little pains to clear their land for in the dry time they set fire to the withered grass and shrubs, and that burns them out a plantation for the next wet season. What other grain they have beside Indian corn I know not. Their plantations are very mean; for they delight most in hunting; and here are wild buffaloes and hogs enough, though very shy because of their so frequent hunting. They have a few boats and some fishermen. Their arms are lances, thick round short truncheons and targets; with these they hunt and kill their game and their enemies too; for this island is now divided into many kingdoms, and all of different languages; though in their customs and manner of living, as well as shape and colour, they seem to be of one stock. THE PORTUGUESE AND DUTCH SETTLEMENTS. The chiefest kingdoms are Kupang, Amabia, Lortribie, Pobumbie, Namquimal; the island also of Anamabao, or Anabao, is a kingdom. Each of these has a sultan who is supreme in his province and kingdom, and has under him several rajas and other inferior officers. The sultans for the most part are enemies to each other, which enmities are fomented and kept up by the Dutch, whose fort and factory is in the kingdom of Kupang; and therefore the bay near which they are settled, is commonly called Kupang Bay. They have only as much ground as they can keep within reach of their guns; yet this whole kingdom is at peace with them; and they freely trade together; as also with the islanders on Anabao, who are in amity as well with the natives of Kupang as with the Dutch residing there; but they are implacable enemies to those of Amabie, who are their next neighbours, and in amity with the Portuguese: as are also the kingdoms of Pobumbie, Namquimal and Lortribie. It is very probable that these 2 European settlements on this island are the greatest occasion of their continued wars. The Portuguese vaunt highly of their strength here and that they are able at pleasure to rout the Dutch, if they had authority so to do from the king of Portugal; and they have written to the viceroy of Goa about it: and though their request is not yet granted, yet (as they say) they live in expectation of it. These have no forts but depend on their alliance with the natives: and indeed they are already so mixed that it is hard to distinguish whether they are Portuguese or Indians. Their language is Portuguese; and the religion they have is Romish. They seem in words to acknowledge the king of Portugal for their sovereign; yet they will not accept of any officers sent by him. They speak indifferently the Malayan and their own native languages, as well as Portuguese; and the chiefest officers that I saw were of this sort; neither did I see above 3 or 4 white men among them; and of these 2 were priests. Of this mixed breed there are some thousands; of whom some have small arms of their own, and know how to use them. The chiefest person (as I before said) is called Captain More or Maior: he is a white man, sent hither by the viceroy of Goa, and seems to have great command here. I did not see him; for he seldom comes down. His residence is at a place called Porta Nova; which the people at Laphao told me was a great way off; but I could not get any more particular account. Some told me that he is most commonly in the mountains, with an army of Indians, to guard the passes between them and the Kupangayans, especially in the dry times. The next man to him is Alexis Mendosa: he is a right Indian, speaks very good Portuguese, and is of the Romish religion. He lives 5 or 6 miles from the sea, and is called the lieutenant. (This is he whom I called governor, when at Laphao.) He commands next to Captain More, and has under him another at this fort (at the seaside) if it may be so-called. He also is called lieutenant and is an Indian Portuguese. Besides this mongrel breed of Indians and Portuguese here are also some Chinamen, merchants from Macao: they bring hither coarse rice, gold, tea, iron-work, porcelain, and silk both wrought and raw: they get in exchange pure gold as it is here gathered, beeswax, sandalwood, coir, etc. It is said there are about 20 small China vessels come hither every year from Macao; and commonly one vessel a year from Goa, which brings European commodities and calicos, muslins, etc. Here are likewise some small barks belonging to this place, that trade to Batavia, and bring from thence both European and Indian goods and rice. The vessels generally come here in March and stay till September. The Dutch as I before said are settled in the kingdom of Kupang, where they have a small neat stone fort. It seems to be pretty strong; yet, as I was informed, had been taken by a French pirate about 2 years ago: the Dutch were used very barbarously, and ever since are very jealous of any strangers that come this way; which I myself experienced. These depend more on their own strength than on the natives their friends; having good guns, powder, and shot enough on all occasions, and soldiers sufficient to manage the business here, all well disciplined and in good order; which is a thing the Portuguese their neighbours are altogether destitute of, they having no European soldiers, few arms, less ammunition, and their fort consisting of no more than 6 bad guns planted against the sea, whose touch-holes (as was before observed) are so enlarged by time that a great part of the strength of the powder flies away there; and, having soldiers in pay, the natives on all occasions are hired; and their government now is so loose that they will admit of no more officers from Portugal or Goa. They have also little or no supply of arms or ammunition from thence, but buy it as often as they can of the Dutch, Chinese, etc., so that upon the whole it seems improbable that they should ever attempt to drive out the Dutch for fear of loosing themselves, notwithstanding their bosomed prowess and alliance with the natives: and indeed, as far as I could hear, they have business enough to keep their own present territories from the incursions of the Kupangayans; who are friends to the Dutch, and whom doubtless the Dutch have ways enough to preserve in their friendship; besides that they have an inveterate malice to their neighbours, insomuch that they kill all they meet, and bring away their heads in triumph. The great men of Kupang stick the heads of those they have killed on poles; and set them on the tops of their houses; and these they esteem above all their other riches. The inferior sort bring the heads of those they kill into houses made for that purpose; of which there was one at the Indian village near the fort Concordia, almost full of heads, as I was told. I know not what encouragement they have for their inhumanity. THE MALAYAN LANGUAGE GENERALLY SPOKEN HERE. The Dutch have always 2 sloops belonging to their fort; in these they go about the island and trade with the natives and, as far as I could learn, they trade indifferently with them all. For though the inland people are at war with each other, yet those by the seaside seem to be little concerned; and, generally speaking the Malayan language, are very sociable and easily induced to trade with those that speak that language; which the Dutch here always learn; besides, being well acquainted with the treachery of these people, they go well armed among them, and are very vigilant never to give them an opportunity to hurt them; and it is very probable that they supply them with such goods as the Portuguese cannot. LORANTUCA ON THE ISLAND ENDE. The Malayan language, as I have before said, is generally spoken amongst all the islands hereabouts. The greater the trade is the more this language is spoken: in some it is become their only language; in others it is but little spoken, and that by the seaside only. With this language the Mahomedan religion did spread itself, and was got hither before any European Christians came: but now, though the language is still used, the Mahomedan religion falls, wherever the Portuguese or Dutch are settled; unless they be very weak, as at Solor and Ende, where the chief language is Malayan, and the religion Mahomedanism; though the Dutch are settled at Solor, and the Portuguese at the east end of the island Ende, at a place called Lorantuca; which, as I was informed, is a large town, has a pretty strong fort and safe harbour. The chief man there (as at Timor) is called Captain More, and is as absolute as the other. These 2 principal men are enemies to each other; and by their letters and messages to Goa inveigh bitterly against each other; and are ready to do all the ill offices they can; yet neither of them much regards the viceroy of Goa, as I was informed. Lorantuca is said to be more populous than any town on Timor; the island Ende affording greater plenty of all manner of fruit, and being much better supplied with all necessaries than Laphao; especially with sheep, goats, hogs, poultry, etc. But it is very dangerous getting into this harbour because of the violent tides between the islands Ende and Solor. In the middle channel between Timor and the range of islands to the northward of it, whereof Ende and Solor are 2, there runs a constant current all the year to the westward; though near either shore there are tides indeed; but the tide of flood, which sets west, running 8 or 9 hours, and the ebb not exceeding 3 or 4 hours, the tide in some places rises 9 or 10 foot on a spring. THE SEASONS, WINDS, AND WEATHER AT TIMOR. The seasons of the year here at Timor are much the same as in other places in south latitude. The fair weather begins in April or May and continues to October, then the tornadoes begin to come, but no violent bad weather till the middle of December. Then there are violent west or north-west winds, with rain, till towards the middle of February. In May the southerly winds set in and blow very strong on the north side of the island, but fair. There is great difference of winds on the 2 sides of the island: for the southerly winds are but very faint on the south side, and very hard on the north side; and the bad weather on the south side comes in very violent in October, which on the north side comes not till December. You have very good sea and land breezes, when the weather is fair; and may run indifferently to the east or west, as your business lies. We found from September to December the winds veering all round the compass gradually in 24 hours time; but such a constant western current that it is much harder getting to the east than west at or near spring tides: which I have more than once made trial of. For weighing from Babao at 6 o'clock in the morning on the 12 instant we kept plying under the shore till the 20th, meeting with such a western current that we gained very little. We had land and seabreezes; but so faint that we could hardly stem the current; and when it was calm between the breezes we drove a-stern faster than ever we sailed ahead. CHAPTER 3. PLYING ON THE NEW GUINEA COAST. DEPARTURE FROM TIMOR. On the 12th of December 1699 we sailed from Babao, coasting along the island Timor to the eastward towards New Guinea. It was the 20th before we got as far as Laphao, which is but forty leagues. We saw black clouds in the north-west and expected the wind from that quarter above a month sooner. THE ISLANDS OMBA AND FETTER. That afternoon we saw the opening between the islands Omba and Fetter, but feared to pass through in the night. At two o'clock in the morning it fell calm; and continued so till noon, in which time we drove with the current back again south-west six or seven leagues. On the 22nd, steering to the eastward to get through between Omba and Fetter, we met a very strong tide against us, so that we, although we had a very fresh gale, yet made way very slowly; yet before night got through. By a good observation we found that the south-east point of Omba lies in latitude 8 degrees 25 minutes. In my charts it is laid down in 8 degrees 10 minutes. My true course from Babao is east 25 degrees north, distance one hundred and eighty-three miles. We sounded several times when near Omba, but had no ground. On the north-east point of Omba we saw four or five men, and a little further three pretty houses on a low point, but did not go ashore. At five this afternoon we had a tornado which yielded much rain, thunder and lightning; yet we had but little wind. The 24th in the morning we caught a large shark, which gave all the ship's company a plentiful meal. A BURNING ISLAND. The 27th we saw the burning island, it lies in latitude 6 degrees 36 minutes south; it is high and but small. It runs from the sea a little sloping towards the top; which is divided in the middle into two peaks, between which issued out much smoke: I have not seen more from any volcano. I saw no trees; but the north side appeared green, and the rest looked very barren. THEIR MISSING THE TURTLE ISLES. Having passed the burning island I shaped my course for two islands called Turtle Isles which lie north-east by east a little easterly, and distant about fifty leagues from the burning isle. I, fearing the wind might veer to the eastward of the north, steered 20 leagues north-east, then north-east by east. On the 28th we saw two small low islands called Luca Paros, to the north of us. At noon I accounted myself 20 leagues short of the Turtle Isles. BANDA ISLES. The next morning, being in the latitude of the Turtle Islands, we looked out sharp for them but saw no appearance of any island till 11 o'clock; when we saw an island at a great distance. At first we supposed it might be one of the Turtle Isles: but it was not laid down true, neither in latitude nor longitude from the burning isle, nor from the Luca Paros, which last I took to be a great help to guide me, they being laid down very well from the burning isle, and that likewise in true latitude and distance from Omba: so that I could not tell what to think of the island now in sight; we having had fair weather, so that we could not pass by the Turtle Isles without seeing them; and this in sight was much too far off for them. We found variation 1 degree 2 minutes east. In the afternoon I steered north-east by east for the islands that we saw. At 2 o'clock I went and looked over the fore-yard, and saw 2 islands at much greater distance than the Turtle Islands are laid down in my charts; one of them was a very high peaked mountain, cleft at top, and much like the burning island that we passed by, but bigger and higher; the other was a pretty long high flat island. Now I was certain that these were not the Turtle Islands, and that they could be no other than the Banda Isles; yet we steered in to make them plainer. At 3 o'clock we discovered another small flat island to the north-west of the others, and saw a great deal of smoke rise from the top of the high island; at 4 we saw other small islands, by which I was now assured that these were the Banda Isles there. At 5 I altered my course and steered east, and at 8 east-south-east; because I would not be seen by the inhabitants of those islands in the morning. BIRD ISLAND. We had little wind all night: and in the morning as soon as it was light we saw another high peaked island: at 8 it bore south-south-east half east, distance 8 leagues. And this I knew to be Bird Isle. It is laid down in our charts in latitude 5 degrees 9 minutes south, which is too far southerly by 27 miles according to our observation; and the like error in laying down the Turtle Islands might be the occasion of our missing them. At night I shortened sail for fear of coming too nigh some islands that stretch away bending like a half moon from Ceram towards Timor, and which in my course I must of necessity pass through. The next morning betimes I saw them; and found them to be at a farther distance from Bird Island than I expected. In the afternoon it fell quite calm; and when we had a little wind it was so unconstant, flying from one point to another, that I could not without difficulty get through the islands where I designed: besides I found a current setting to the southward; so that it was betwixt 5 and 6 in the evening before I passed through the islands; and then just weathered little Waiela, whereas I thought to have been 2 or 3 leagues more northerly. We saw the day before, betwixt 2 and 3, a spout but a small distance from us. It fell down out of a black cloud that yielded great store of rain, thunder, and lightning: this cloud hovered to the southward of us for the space of three hours, and then drew to the westward a great pace; at which time it was that we saw the spout, which hung fast to the cloud till it broke; and then the cloud whirled about to the south-east, then to east-north-east; where, meeting with an island, it spent itself and so dispersed; and immediately we had a little of the tail of it, having had none before. Afterward we saw a smoke on the island Kosiway, which continued all night. 1700. THEY DESCRY THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. On New Year's Day we first descried the land of New Guinea, which appeared to be high land; and the next day we saw several high islands on the coast of New Guinea, and ran in with the mainland. The shore here lies along east-south-east and west-north-west. It is high even land, very well clothed with tall flourishing trees, which appeared very green and gave us a very pleasant prospect. We ran to the westward of four mountainous islands; and in the night had a small tornado, which brought with it some rain and a fair wind. We had fair weather for a long time; only when near any land we had some tornadoes; but off at sea commonly clear weather; though if in sight of land we usually saw many black clouds hovering about it. THEY ANCHOR ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. On the 5th and 6th of January we plied to get in with the land; designing to anchor, fill water, and spend a little time in searching the country, till after the change of the moon; for I found a strong current setting against us. We anchored in 38 fathom water, good oazie ground. We had an island of a league long without us, about 3 miles distant; and we rode from the main about a mile. The easternmost point of land seen bore east by south half south, distance 3 leagues: and the westernmost west-south-west half south, distance 2 leagues. So soon as we anchored we sent the pinnace to look for water, and try if they could catch any fish. Afterwards we sent the yawl another way to see for water. Before night the pinnace brought on board several sorts of fruits that they found in the woods, such as I never saw before. A DESCRIPTION OF THE PLACE, AND OF A STRANGE FOWL FOUND THERE. One of my men killed a stately land-fowl, as big as the largest dunghill-cock. It was of a sky-colour; only in the middle of the wings was a white spot, about which were some reddish spots: on the crown it had a large bunch of long feathers, which appeared very pretty. His bill was like a pigeon's; he had strong legs and feet, like dunghill-fowls; only the claws were reddish. His crop was full of small berries. It lays an egg as big as a large hen's egg; for our men climbed the tree where it nested and brought off one egg. They found water; and reported that the trees were large, tall and very thick; and that they saw no sign of people. At night the yawl came aboard and brought a wooden fishgig, very ingeniously made; the matter of it was a small cane; they found it by a small barbecue, where they also saw a shattered canoe. GREAT QUANTITIES OF MACKEREL. The next morning I sent the boatswain ashore a-fishing and at one haul he caught 352 mackerels and about 20 other fishes; which I caused to be equally divided among all my company. I sent also the gunner and chief mate to search about if they could find convenient anchoring nearer a watering-place: by night they brought word that they had found a fine stream of good water, where the boat could come close to and it was very easy to be filled; and that the ship might anchor as near to it as I pleased: so I went thither. The next morning therefore we anchored in 25 fathom water, soft oazie ground, about a mile from the river: we got on board 3 tun of water that night; and caught 2 or 3 pike-fish, in shape much like a parracota, but with a longer snout, something resembling a gar, yet not so long. The next day I sent the boat again for water and before night all my casks were full. A WHITE ISLAND. Having filled here about 15 tuns of water, seeing we could catch but little fish, and had no other refreshments, I intended to sail next day; but finding that we wanted wood I sent to cut some; and going ashore to hasten it, at some distance from the place where our men were, I found a small cove where I saw two barbecues, which appeared not to be above 2 months standing: the spars were cut with some sharp instrument; so that, if done by the natives, it seems that they have iron. On the 10th, a little after 12 o'clock, we weighed and stood over to the north side of the bay; and at 1 o'clock stood out with the wind at north and north-north-west. At 4 we passed out by a White Island, which I so named from its many white cliffs, having no name in our charts. It is about a league long, pretty high, and very woody: it is about 5 miles from the main, only at the west end it reaches within 3 miles of it. At some distance off at sea the west point appears like a cape land; the north side trends away north-north-west, and the east side east-south-east. This island lies in latitude 3 degrees 4 minutes south; and the meridian distance from Babao, 500 and 12 miles east. After we were out to sea we plied to get to the northward; but met with such a strong current against us that we got but little. For if the wind favoured us in the night, that we got 3 or 4 leagues; we lost it again and were driven as far astern next morning, so that we plied here several days. The 14th, being past a point of land that we had been 3 days getting about, we found little or no current; so that, having the wind at north-west by west and west-north-west, we stood to the northward, and had several soundings: at 3 o'clock, 38 fathom; the nearest part of New Guinea being about 3 leagues distance: at 4, 37; at 5, 36; at 6, 36; at 8, 33 fathom; then the cape was about 4 leagues distant; so that as we ran off we found our water shallower. We had then some islands to the westward of us, at about four leagues distance. THEY ANCHOR AT AN ISLAND CALLED BY THE INHABITANTS PULO SABUDA. A DESCRIPTION OF IT AND ITS INHABITANTS AND PRODUCT. A little after noon we saw smokes on the islands to the west of us; and, having a fine gale of wind, I steered away for them: at 7 o'clock in the evening we anchored in 35 fathom, about two leagues from an island, good soft oazie ground. We lay still all night, and saw fires ashore. In the morning we weighed again, and ran farther in, thinking to have shallower water; but we ran within a mile of the shore, and came to in 38 fathom, good soft holding ground. While we were under sail 2 canoes came off within call of us: they spoke to us, but we did not understand their language, nor signs. We waved to them to come aboard, and I called to them in the Malayan language to do the same; but they would not; yet they came so nigh us that we could show them such things as we had to truck with them; yet neither would this entice them to come aboard; but they made signs for us to come ashore, and away they went. Then I went after them in my pinnace, carrying with me knives, beads, glasses, hatchets, etc. When we came near the shore I called to them in the Malayan language: I saw but 2 men at first, the rest lying in ambush behind the bushes; but as soon as I threw ashore some knives and other toys they came out, flung down their weapons, and came into the water by the boat's side, making signs of friendship by pouring water on their heads with one hand which they dipped into the sea. The next day in the afternoon several other canoes came aboard and brought many roots and fruits, which we purchased. This island has no name in our charts but the natives call it Pulo Sabuda. It is about 3 leagues long and 2 miles wide, more or less. It is of a good height so as to be seen 11 or 12 leagues. It is very rocky; yet above the rocks there is good yellow and black mould; not deep yet producing plenty of good tall trees, and bearing any fruits or roots which the inhabitants plant. I do not know all its produce; but what we saw were plantains, coconuts, pineapples, oranges, papaws, potatoes, and other large roots. Here are also another sort of wild jacas, about the bigness of a man's two fists, full of stones or kernels, which eat pleasant enough when roasted. The libby-tree grows here in the swampy valleys, of which they make sago cakes: I did not see them make any but was told by the inhabitants that it was made of the pith of the tree in the same manner I have described in my Voyage round the World. They showed me the tree whereof it was made, and I bought about 40 of the cakes. I bought also 3 or 4 nutmegs in their shell, which did not seem to have been long gathered; but, whether they be the growth of this island or not, the natives would not tell whence they had them, and seemed to prize them very much. What beasts the island affords I know not: but here are both sea- and land-fowl. Of the first boobies and men-of-war-birds are the chief; some galdens, and small milk-white crab-catchers. The land-fowls are pigeons, about the bigness of mountain-pigeons in Jamaica; and crows about the bigness of those in England, and much like them; but the inner part of their feathers are white, and the outside black; so that they appear all black, unless you extend the feathers. Here are large sky-coloured birds, such as we lately killed on New Guinea; and many other small birds unknown to us. Here are likewise abundance of bats, as big as young coneys; their necks, head, ears and noses, like foxes; their hair rough; that about their necks is of a whitish yellow, that on their heads and shoulders black; their wings are 4 foot over from tip to tip: they smell like foxes. The fish are bass, rock-fish, and a sort of fish like mullet, old-wives, whip-rays, and some other sorts that I know not, but no great plenty of any; for it is deep water till within less than a mile of the shore; then there is a bank of coral rocks within which you have shoal water, white clean sand: so there is no good fishing with the seine. This island lies in latitude 2 degrees 43 minutes south and meridian distance from Port Babao on the island Timor 486 miles. Besides this island here are 9 or 10 other small islands, as they are laid down in the charts. The inhabitants of this island are a sort of very tawny Indians, with long black hair; who in their manners differ but little from the Mindanayans, and others of these eastern islands. These seem to be the chief; for besides them we saw also shock curl-pated New Guinea negroes; many of which are slaves to the others, but I think not all. They are very poor, wear no clothes, but have a clout about their middle, made of the rinds of the tops of palmetto-trees; but the women had a sort of calico cloths. Their chief ornaments are blue and yellow beads, worn about their wrists. The men arm themselves with bows and arrows, lances, broad swords like those of Mindanao; their lances are pointed with bone. THE INDIANS' MANNER OF FISHING THERE. They strike fish very ingeniously with wooden fishgigs, and have a very ingenious way of making the fish rise: for they have a piece of wood, curiously carved and painted much like a dolphin (and perhaps other figures) these they let down into the water by a line with a small weight to sink it; when they think it low enough they haul the line into their boats very fast, and the fish rise up after this figure; and they stand ready to strike them when they are near the surface of the water. But their chief livelihood is from their plantations. Yet they have large boats, and go over to New Guinea where they get slaves, fine parrots, etc., which they carry to Goram and exchange for calicos. One boat came from thence a little before I arrived here; of whom I bought some parrots; and would have bought a slave but they would not barter for anything but calicos, which I had not. Their houses on this side were very small, and seemed only to be for necessity; but on the other side of the island we saw good large houses. Their proas are narrow with outlagers on each side, like other Malayans. I cannot tell of what religion these are; but I think they are not Mahomedans, by their drinking brandy out of the same cup with us without any scruple. At this island we continued till the 20th instant, having laid in store of such roots and fruits as the island afforded. On the 20th at half hour after 6 in the morning I weighed and, standing out, we saw a large boat full of men lying at the north point of the island. As we passed by they rowed towards their habitations, where we supposed they had withdrawn themselves for fear of us (though we gave them no cause of terror) or for some differences among themselves. We stood to the northward till 7 in the evening; then saw a rippling; and, the water being discoloured, we sounded, and had but 22 fathom. I went about and stood to the westward till 2 next morning, then tacked again and had these several soundings: at 8 in the evening, 22; at 10, 25; at 11, 27; at 12, 28 fathom; at 2 in the morning 26; at 4, 24; at 6, 23; at 8, 28; at 12, 22. ARRIVAL AT MABO, THE NORTH-WEST CAPE OF NEW GUINEA. A DESCRIPTION OF IT. We passed by many small islands and among many dangerous shoals without any remarkable occurrence till the 4th of February, when we got within 3 leagues of the north-west cape of New Guinea, called by the Dutch Cape Mabo. Off this cape there lies a small woody island, and many islands of different sizes to the north and north-east of it. This part of New Guinea is high land, adorned with tall trees that appeared very green and flourishing. The cape itself is not very high, but ends in a low sharp point; and on either side there appears another such point at equal distances, which makes it resemble a diamond. This only appears when you are abreast of the middle point; and then you have no ground within 3 leagues of the shore. COCKLE ISLAND. In the afternoon we passed by the cape and stood over for the islands. Before it was dark we were got within a league of the westermost; but had no ground with 50 fathom of line. However, fearing to stand nearer in the dark, we tacked and stood to the east, and plied all night. The next morning we were got 5 or 6 leagues to the eastward of that island; and, having the wind easterly, we stood in to the northward among the islands, sounded, and had no ground. Then I sent in my boat to sound, and they had ground with 50 fathom near a mile from the shore. We tacked before the boat came aboard again for fear of a shoal that was about a mile to the east of that island the boat went to; from whence also a shoal point stretched out itself till it met the other: they brought with them such a cockle as I have mentioned in my Voyage round the World, found near Celebes; and they saw many more, some bigger than that which they brought aboard, as they said; and for this reason I named it Cockle Island. I sent them to sound again, ordering them to fire a musket if they found good anchoring; we were then standing to the southward, with a fine breeze. As soon as they fired I tacked and stood in: they told me they had 50 fathom when they fired. I tacked again, and made all the sail I could to get out, being near some rocky islands and shoals to leeward of us. The breeze increased, and I thought we were out of danger; but, having a shoal just by us, and the wind falling again, I ordered the boat to tow us, and by their help we got clear from it. We had a strong tide setting to the westward. COCKLES OF SEVENTY-EIGHT POUND WEIGHT. At 1 o'clock, being past the shoal and finding the tide setting to the westward, I anchored in 35 fathom, coarse sand with small coral and shells. Being nearest to Cockle Island I immediately sent both the boats thither; one to cut wood, and the other to fish. At 4 in the afternoon, having a small breeze at south-south-west, I made a sign for my boats to come aboard. They brought some wood and a few small cockles, none of them exceeding 10 pound weight; whereas the shell of the great one weighed 78 pound; but it was now high-water and therefore they could get no bigger. They also brought on board some pigeons, of which we found plenty on all the islands where we touched in these seas. Also in many places we saw many large bats, but killed none, except those I mentioned at Pulo Sabuda. As our boats came aboard we weighed and made sail, steering east-south-east as long as the wind held; in the morning we found we had got 4 or 5 leagues to the east of the place where we weighed. We stood to and fro till 11; and, finding that we lost ground, anchored in 42 fathom, coarse gravelly sand with some coral. This morning we thought we saw a sail. PIGEON ISLAND. In the afternoon I went ashore on a small woody island about 2 leagues from us. Here I found the greatest number of pigeons that ever I saw either in the east or West Indies, and small cockles in the sea round the island in such quantities that we might have laden the boat in an hour's time: these were not above 10 or 12 pound weight. We cut some wood and brought off cockles enough for all the ship's company; but having no small shot we could kill no pigeons. I returned about 4 o'clock; and then my gunner and both mates went thither, and in less than three-quarters of an hour they killed and brought off 10 pigeons. Here is a tide: the flood sets west and the ebb east; but the latter is very faint and but of small continuance. And so we found it ever since we came from Timor. THE WIND HEREABOUTS. The winds we found easterly, between north-east and east-south-east; so that, if these continue, it is impossible to beat farther to the eastward on this coast against wind and current. These easterly winds increased from the time we were in the latitude of about 2 degrees south; and as we drew nigher the Line they hung more easterly. And now, being to the north of the continent of New Guinea where the coast lies east and west, I find the tradewind here at east; which yet in higher latitudes is usually at north-north-west and north-west; and so I did expect them here, it being to the south of the Line. AN EMPTY COCKLESHELL WEIGHING TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-EIGHT POUND. The 7th in the morning I sent my boat ashore on Pigeon Island and stayed till noon. In the afternoon my men returned, brought 22 pigeons, and many cockles, some very large, some small: they also brought one empty shell that weighed 258 pound. KING WILLIAM'S ISLAND. A DESCRIPTION OF IT. At 4 o'clock we weighed, having a small westerly wind and a tide with us; at 7 in the evening we anchored in 42 fathom, near King William's Island, where I went ashore the next morning, drank His Majesty's health, and honoured it with his name. It is about 2 leagues and a half in length, very high, and extraordinarily well clothed with woods. The trees are of divers sorts, most unknown to us, but all very green and flourishing; many of them had flowers, some white, some purple, others yellow; all which smelt very fragrantly. The trees are generally tall and straight-bodied, and may be fit for any uses. I saw one of a clean body, without knot or limb, 60 are 70 foot high by estimation. It was 3 of my fathoms about, and kept its bigness without any sensible decrease even to the top. The mould of the island is black but not deep; it being very rocky. On the sides and top of the island are many palmetto-trees whose heads we could discern over all the other trees, but their bodies we could not see. About 1 in the afternoon we weighed and stood to the eastward, between the main and King William's Island; leaving the island on our larboard side and sounding till we were past the island; and then we had no ground. Here we found the flood setting east by north, and the ebb west by south. There were shoals and small islands between us and the main, which caused the tide to set very inconstantly, and make many whirlings in the water; yet we did not find the tide to set strong any way, nor the water to rise much. PLYING ON THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. On the 9th, being to the eastward of King William's Island, we plied all day between the main and other islands, having easterly winds and fair weather till 7 the next morning. Then we had very hard rain till 8 and saw many shoals of fish. We lay becalmed off a pretty deep bay on New Guinea, about 12 or 14 leagues wide and 7 or 8 leagues deep, having low land near its bottom, but high land without. The eastermost part of New Guinea seen bore east by south, distant 12 leagues: Cape Mabo west-south-west half south, distant 7 leagues. At 1 in the afternoon it began to rain and continued till 6 in the evening; so that, having but little wind and most calms, we lay still off the forementioned bay, having King William's Island still in sight, though distant by judgment 15 or 16 leagues west. We saw many shoals of small fish, some sharks, and 7 or 8 dolphins; but caught none. In the afternoon, being about 4 leagues from the shore, we saw an opening in the land which seemed to afford good harbour: in the evening we saw a large fire there; and I intended to go in (if winds and weather would permit) to get some acquaintance with the natives. Since the 4th instant that we passed Cape Mabo to the 12th we had small easterly winds and calms, so that we anchored several times; where I made my men cut wood, that we might have a good stock when a westerly wind should present; and so we plied to the eastward, as winds and currents would permit; having not got in all above 30 leagues to the eastward of Cape Mabo. But on the 12th, at 4 in the afternoon, a small gale sprang up at north-east by north with rain: at 5 it shuffled about to north-west, from thence to the south-west, and continued between those 2 points a pretty brisk gale; so that we made sail and steered away north-east, till the 13th in the morning, to get about the Cape of Good Hope. When it was day we steered north-east half east, then north-east by east till 7 o'clock; and being then 7 or 8 leagues off shore we steered away east; the shore trending east by south. We had very much rain all night, so that we could not carry much sail; yet we had a very steady gale. At 8 this morning the weather cleared up and the wind decreased to a fine top-gallant gale, and settled at west by south. We had more rain these 3 days past than all the voyage in so short time. We were now about 6 leagues from the land of New Guinea, which appeared very high; and we saw 2 headlands, about 20 leagues asunder; the one to the east, and the other to the west, which last is called the Cape of Good Hope. We found variation east 4 degrees. FAULT OF THE CHARTS. The 15th in the morning between 12 and 2 o'clock it blew a very brisk gale at north-west and looked very black in the south-west. At 2 it flew about at once to the south-south-west and rained very hard. The wind settled some time at west-south-west, and we steered east-north-east till 3 in the morning: then, the wind and rain abating, we steered east half north for fear of coming near the land. Presently after, it being a little clear, the man at the bowsprit-end called out, "Land on our starboard bow." We looked out and saw it plain. I presently sounded and had but 10 fathom soft ground. The master, being somewhat scared, came running in haste with this news, and said it was best to anchor: I told him no, but sound again; then we had 12 fathom; the next cast, 13 and a half; the 4th, 17 fathom; and then no ground with 50 fathom line. However we kept off the island and did not go so fast but that we could see any other danger before we came nigh it. For here might have been more islands not laid down in my charts besides this. For I searched all the charts I had, if perchance I might find any island in the one which was not in the others; but I could find none near us. When it was day we were about 5 leagues off the land we saw; but, I believe, not above 5 mile, or at most 2 leagues, off it when we first saw it in the night. PROVIDENCE ISLAND. This is a small island but pretty high; I named it Providence. About 5 leagues to the southward of this there is another island which is called William Schouten's Island and laid down in our charts: it is a high island and about 20 leagues long. It was by mere Providence that we missed the small island. For had not the wind come to west-south-west and blown hard, so that we steered east-north-east, we had been upon it by our course that we steered before, if we could not have seen it. This morning we saw many great trees and logs swim by us; which it is probable came out of some great rivers on the main. THEY CROSS THE LINE. On the 16th we crossed the Line, and found variation 6 degrees 26 minutes east. The 18th by my observation at noon we found that we had had a current setting to the southward, and probably that drew us in so nigh Schouten's Island. For this 24 hours we steered east by north with a large wind, yet made but an east by south half south course; though the variation was not above 7 degrees east. The 21st we had a current setting to the northward, which is against the true trade monsoon, it being now near the full moon. I did expect it here, as in all other places. We had variation 8 degrees 45 minutes east. The 22nd we found but little current; if any, it set to the southward. A SNAKE PURSUED BY FISH. On the 23rd in the afternoon we saw 2 snakes; and the next morning another, passing by us, which was furiously assaulted by 2 fishes that had kept us company 5 or 6 days. They were shaped like mackerel and were about that bigness and length, and of a yellow-greenish colour. The snake swam away from them very fast, keeping his head above water; the fish snapped at his tail; but when he turned himself that fish would withdraw, and another would snap; so that by turns they kept him employed; yet he still defended himself and swam away a great pace till they were out of sight. The 25th betimes in the morning we saw an island to the southward of us at about 15 leagues distance. We steered away for it, supposing it to be that which the Dutch call Wishart's Island; but, finding it otherwise, I called it Matthias; it being that saint's day. This island is about 9 or 10 leagues long, mountainous and woody, with many savannahs, and some spots of land which seemed to be cleared. SQUALLY ISLAND. At 8 in the evening we lay by, intending, if I could, to anchor under Matthias Isle. But the next morning, seeing another island about 7 or 8 leagues to the eastward of it, we steered away for it; at noon we came up fair with its south-west end, intending to run along by it and anchor on the south-east side: but the tornadoes came in so thick and hard that I could not venture in. This island is pretty low and plain, and clothed with wood; the trees were very green, and appeared to be large and tall, as thick as they could stand one by another. It is about 2 or 3 leagues long, and at the south-west point there is another small low woody island about a mile round, and about a mile from the other. Between them there runs a reef of rocks which joins them. (The biggest I named Squally Island.) THE MAIN OF NEW GUINEA. Seeing we could not anchor here I stood away to the southward to make the main. But, having many hard squalls and tornadoes, we were often forced to hand all our sails and steer more easterly to go before it. On the 26th at 4 o'clock it cleared up to a hard sky, and a brisk settled gale; then we made as much sail as we could. At 5 it cleared up over the land and we saw, as we thought, Cape Solomaswer bearing south-south-east distance 10 leagues. We had many great logs and trees swimming by us all this afternoon, and much grass; we steered in south-south-east till 6, then the wind slackened and we stood off till 7, having little wind; then we lay by till 10, at which time we made sail and steered away east all night. The next morning, as soon as it was light, we made all the sail we could, and steered away east-south-east, as the land lay; being fair in sight of it, and not above 7 leagues distance. We passed by many small low woody islands which lay between us and the main, not laid down in our charts. We found variation 9 degrees 50 minutes east. The 28th we had many violent tornadoes, wind, rain, and some spouts; and in the tornadoes the wind shifted. In the night we had fair weather, but more lightning than we had seen at any time this voyage. This morning we left a large high island on our larboard side, called in the Dutch charts Wishart's Isle, about 6 leagues from the main; and, seeing many smokes upon the main, I therefore steered towards it. CHAPTER 4. NEW BRITAIN DISCOVERED. THE MAINLAND OF NEW GUINEA. ITS INHABITANTS. SLINGERS BAY. The mainland at this place is high and mountainous, adorned with tall flourishing trees; the sides of the hills had many large plantations and patches of cleared land; which, together with the smokes we saw, were certain signs of its being well inhabited; and I was desirous to have some commerce with the inhabitants. Being nigh the shore we saw first one proa; a little after, 2 or 3 more; and at last a great many boats came from all the adjacent bays. When they were 46 in number they approached so near us that we could see each other's signs, and hear each other speak; though we could not understand them, nor they us. They made signs for us to go in towards the shore, pointing that way; it was squally weather, which at first made me cautious of going too near; but, the weather beginning to look pretty well, I endeavoured to get into a bay ahead of us, which we could have got into well enough at first; but while we lay by we were driven so far to leeward that now it was more difficult to get in. The natives lay in their proas round us; to whom I showed beads, knives, glasses, to allure them to come nearer; but they would come so nigh as to receive anything from us. Therefore I threw out some things to them, namely a knife fastened to a piece of board, and a glass bottle corked up with some beads in it, which they took up and seemed well pleased. They often struck their left breast with their right hand, and as often held up a black truncheon over their heads, which we thought was a token of friendship; wherefore we did the like. And when we stood in towards their shore they seemed to rejoice; but when we stood off they frowned, yet kept us company in their proas, still pointing to the shore. About 5 o'clock we got within the mouth of the bay and sounded several times, but had no ground though within a mile of the shore. The basin of this bay was above 2 miles within us, into which we might have gone; but, as I was not assured of anchorage there, so I thought it not prudence to run in at this time; it being near night and seeing a black tornado rising in the west, which I most feared: besides we had near 200 men in proas close by us. And the bays on the shore were lined with men from one end to the other, where there could not be less than 3 or 400 more. What weapons they had we know not, nor yet their design. Therefore I had, at their first coming near us, got up all our small arms, and made several put on cartouch boxes to prevent treachery. At last I resolved to go out again: which, when the natives in their proas perceived, they began to fling stones at us as fast as they could, being provided with engines for that purpose (wherefore I named this place Slingers Bay). But at the firing of one gun they were all amazed, drew off and flung no more stones. They got together as if consulting what to do; for they did not make in towards the shore, but lay still, though some of them were killed or wounded; and many of them had paid for their boldness, but that it was unwilling to cut off any of them; which, if I had done, I could not hope afterwards to bring them to treat with me. SMALL ISLANDS. The next day we sailed close by an island where we saw many smokes, and men in the bays; out of which came 2 canoes, taking much pains to overtake us, but they could not, though we went with an easy sail; and I could not now stay for them. As I passed by the south-east point I sounded several times within a mile of the sandy bays, but had no ground: about 3 leagues to the northward of the south-east point we opened a large deep bay, secured from west-north-west and south-west winds. There were 2 other islands that lay to the north-east of it which secured the bay from north-east winds; one was but small, yet woody; the other was a league long, inhabited and full of coconut-trees. I endeavoured to get into this bay; but there came such flaws off from the high land over it that I could not; besides we had many hard squalls which deterred me from it; and, night coming on, I would not run any hazard, but bore away to the small inhabited island to see if we could get anchoring on the east side of it. When we came there we found the island so narrow that there could be no shelter; therefore I tacked and stood towards the greater island again: and, being more than midway between both, I lay by, designing to endeavour for anchorage next morning. Between 7 and 8 at night we spied a canoe close by us; and, seeing no more, suffered her to come aboard. She had 3 men in her who brought off 5 coconuts, for which I gave each of them a knife and a string of beads to encourage them to come off again in the morning: but before these went away we saw 2 more canoes coming; therefore we stood away to the northward from them and then lay by again till day. We saw no more boats this night; neither designed to suffer any to come aboard in the dark. By nine o'clock the next morning we were got within a league of the great island, but were kept off by violent gusts of wind. These squalls gave us warning of their approach by the clouds which hung over the mountains, and afterwards descended to the foot of them; and then it is we expect them speedily. GERRIT DENNIS ISLE DESCRIBED. On the 3rd of March, being about 5 leagues to leeward of the great island, we saw the mainland ahead; and another great high island to leeward of us, distance about 7 leagues; which we bore away for. It is called in the Dutch charts Gerrit Denis Isle. It is about 14 or 15 leagues round; high and mountainous, and very woody: some trees appeared very large and tall; and the bays by the seaside are well stored with coconut-trees; where we also saw some small houses. The sides of the mountains are thick set with plantations; and the mould in the new cleared land seemed to be of a brown-reddish colour. This island is of no regular figure, but is full of points shooting forth into the sea; between which are many sandy bays, full of coconut-trees. The middle of the isle lies in 3 degrees 10 minutes south latitude. ITS INHABITANTS. It is very populous; the natives are very black, strong, and well-limbed people; having great round heads, their hair naturally curled and short, which they shave into several forms, and dye it also of divers colours, namely red, white and yellow. They have broad round faces with great bottle noses, yet agreeable enough, till they disfigure them by painting, and by wearing great things through their noses as big as a man's thumb and about four inches long; these are run clear through both nostrils, one end coming out by one cheek-bone, and the other end against the other; and their noses so stretched that only a small slip of them appears about the ornament. They have also great holes in their ears, wherein they wear such stuff as in their noses. THEIR PROAS. They are very dexterous active fellows in their proas, which are very ingeniously built. They are narrow and long with outlagers on one side; the head and stern higher than the rest, and carved into many devices, namely some fowl, fish, or a man's head, painted or carved: and though it is but rudely done, yet the resemblance appears plainly, and shows an ingenious fancy. But with what instruments they make their proas or carved work I know not; for they seem to be utterly ignorant of iron. They have very neat paddles with which they manage their proas dexterously and make great way through the water. Their weapons are chiefly lances, swords and slings, and some bows and arrows: they have also wooden fishgigs for striking fish. Those that came to assault us in Slingers Bay on the main are in all respects like these; and I believe these are alike treacherous. Their speech is clear and distinct; the words they used most when near us were "vacousee allamais," and then they pointed to the shore. Their signs of friendship are either a great truncheon, or bough of a tree full of leaves put on their heads; often striking their heads with their hands. ANTHONY CAVE'S ISLAND. The next day, having a fresh gale of wind, we got under a high island, about 4 or 5 leagues round, very woody, and full of plantations upon the sides of the hills; and in the bays by the waterside are abundance of coconut-trees. It lies in the latitude of 3 degrees 25 minutes south, and meridian distance from Cape Mabo 1316 miles. On the south-east part of it or 3 or 4 other small woody islands; one high and peaked, the other low and flat; all bedecked with coconut-trees and other wood. On the north there is another island of an indifferent height, and of a somewhat larger circumference than the great high island last mentioned. We passed between this and the high island. The high island is called in the Dutch charts Anthony Cave's Island. As for the flat low island and the other small one, it is probable they were never seen by the Dutch; nor the islands to the north of Gerrit Dennis Island. ITS INHABITANTS. As soon as we came near Cave's Island some canoes came about us and made signs for us to come ashore, as all the rest had done before; probably thinking we could run the ship aground anywhere, as they did their proas; for we saw neither sail nor anchor among any of them, though most eastern Indians have both. These had proas made of one tree, well dug, with outlagers on one side: they were but small yet well shaped. We endeavoured to anchor but found no ground within a mile of the shore: we kept close along the north side, still sounding till we came to the north-east end, but found no ground; the canoes still accompanying us; and the bays were covered with men going along as we sailed: many of them strove to swim off to us but we left them astern. Being at the north-east point we found a strong current setting to the north-west; so that though we had steered to keep under the high island, yet we were driven towards the flat one. At this time 3 of the natives came aboard: I gave each of them a knife, a looking-glass, and a string of beads. I showed them pumpkins and coconut-shells, and made signs to them to bring some aboard, and had presently 3 coconuts out of one of the canoes. I showed them nutmegs, and by their signs I guessed they had some on the island. I also showed them some gold-dust, which they seemed to know, and called out "manneel, manneel," and pointed towards the land. A while after these men were gone 2 or 3 canoes came from the flat island, and by signs invited us to their island; at which the others seemed displeased, and used very menacing gestures and (I believe) speeches to each other. Night coming on we stood off to sea; and, having but little wind all night, were driven away to the north-west. We saw many great fires on the flat island. These last men that came off to us were all black, as those we had seen before with frizzled hair: they were very tall, lusty, well-shaped men; they wear great things in their noses, and paint as the others, but not much; they make the same signs of friendship, and their language seems to be one: but the others had proas, and these canoes. On the sides of some of these we saw the figures of several fish neatly cut; and these last were not so shy as the others. TREES FULL OF WORMS FOUND IN THE SEA. Steering away from Cave's Island south-south-east we found a strong current against us, which set only in some places in streams; and in them we saw many trees and logs of wood which drove by us. We had but little wood aboard; wherefore I hoisted out the pinnace and sent her to take up some of this driftwood. In a little time she came aboard with a great tree in a tow, which we could hardly hoist in with all our tackles. We cut up the tree and split it for firewood. It was much worm-eaten and had in it some live worms above an inch long, and about the bigness of a goose-quill, and having their heads crusted over with a thin shell. ST. JOHN'S ISLAND. After this we passed by an island called by the Dutch St. John's Island, leaving it to the north of us. It is about 9 or 10 leagues round and very well adorned with lofty trees. We saw many plantations on the sides of the hills, and abundance of coconut-trees about them; as also thick groves on the bays by the seaside. As we came near it 3 canoes came off to us but would not come aboard. They were such as we had seen about the other islands: they spoke the same language, and made the same signs of peace; and their canoes were such as at Cave's Island. THE MAINLAND OF NEW GUINEA. We stood along by St. John's Island till we came almost to the south-east point; and then, seeing no more islands to the eastward of us, nor any likelihood of anchoring under this, I steered away for the main of New Guinea; we being now (as I supposed) to the east of it, on this north side. My design of seeing these islands as I passed along was to get wood and water, but could find no anchor-ground, and therefore could not do as I purposed. Besides, these islands are all so populous that I dared not send my boat ashore unless I could have anchored pretty nigh. Wherefore I rather chose to prosecute my design on the main, the season of the year being now at hand; for I judged the westerly winds were nigh spent. ITS INHABITANTS. On the 8th of March we saw some smokes on the main, being distant from it 4 or 5 leagues. It is very high, woody land, with some spots of savannah. About 10 in the morning 6 or 7 canoes came off to us: most of them had no more than one man in them; they were all black, with short curled hair; having the same ornaments in their noses, and their heads so shaved and painted, and speaking the same words, as the inhabitants of Cave's Island before mentioned. THE COAST DESCRIBED. There was a headland to the southward of us beyond which, seeing no land, I supposed that from thence the land trends away more westerly. This headland lies in the latitude of 5 degrees 2 minutes south, and meridian distance from Cape Mabo 1290 miles. In the night we lay by for fear of over-shooting this headland. Between which and Cape St. Maries the land is high, mountainous and woody; having many points of land shooting out into the sea, which make so many fine bays. The coast lies north-north-east and south-south-west. The 9th in the morning a huge black man came off to us in a canoe but would not come aboard. He made the same signs of friendship to us as the rest we had met with; yet seemed to differ in his language, not using any of those words which the others did. We saw neither smokes nor plantations near this headland. We found here variation 1 degree east. CAPE AND BAY ST. GEORGE. In the afternoon, as we plied near the shore, 3 canoes came off to us; one had 4 men in her, the others 2 apiece. That with the 4 men came pretty nigh us, and showed us a coconut and water in a bamboo, making signs that there was enough ashore where they lived; they pointed to the place where they would have us go, and so went away. We saw a small round pretty high island, about a league to the north of this headland, within which there was a large deep bay, whither the canoes went; and we strove to get thither before night, but could not; wherefore we stood off, and saw land to the westward of this headland, bearing west by south half south, distance about 10 leagues; and, as we thought, still more land bearing south-west by south, distance 12 or 14 leagues: but, being clouded, it disappeared and we thought we had been deceived. Before night we opened the headland fair and I named it Cape St. George. The land from hence trends away west-north-west about 10 leagues, which is as far as we could see it; and the land that we saw to the westward of it in the evening, which bore west by south half south, was another point about 10 leagues from Cape St. George; between which there runs in a deep bay for 20 leagues or more. We saw some high land in spots like islands down in that bay at a great distance; but whether they are islands or the main closing there we know not. The next morning we saw other land to the south-east of the westermost point, which till then was clouded; it was very high land, and the same that we saw the day before, that disappeared in a cloud. This Cape St. George lies in the latitude of 5 degrees 5 minutes south; and meridian distance from Cape Mabo 1290 miles. The island off this cape I called St. George's Isle; and the bay between it and the west point I named St. George's Bay. Note: no Dutch charts go so far as this cape, by 10 leagues. On the 10th in the evening we got within a league of the westermost land seen, which is pretty high and very woody, but no appearance of anchoring. I stood off again, designing (if possible) to ply to and fro in this bay till I found a conveniency to wood and water. We saw no more plantations, nor coconut-trees; yet in the night we discerned a small fire right against us. The next morning we saw a burning mountain in the country. It was round, high, and peaked at top (as most volcanoes are) and sent forth a great quantity of smoke. We took up a log of driftwood and split it for firing; in which we found some small fish. CAPE ORFORD. The day after we passed by the south-west cape of this bay, leaving it to the north of us: when we were abreast of it I called my officers together, and named it Cape Orford, in honour of my noble patron; drinking his lordship's health. This cape bears from Cape St. George south-west about 18 leagues. Between them there is a bay about 25 leagues deep, having pretty high land all round it, especially near the capes, though they themselves are not high. Cape Orford lies in the latitude of 5 degrees 24 minutes south by my observation; and meridian distance from Cape St. George 44 miles west. The land trends from this cape north-west by west into the bay, and on the other side south-west per compass, which is south-west 9 degrees west, allowing the variation which is here 9 degrees east. The land on each side of the cape is more savannah than woodland, and is highest on the north-west side. The cape itself is a bluff point of an indifferent height with a flat tableland at top. When we were to the south-west of the cape it appeared to be a low point shooting out; which you cannot see when abreast of it. This morning we struck a log of driftwood with our turtle-irons, hoisted it in, and split it for firewood. Afterwards we struck another but could not get it in. There were many fish about it. We steered along south-west as the land lies, keeping about 6 leagues off the shore; and, being desirous to cut wood and fill water if I saw any conveniency, I lay by in the night, because I would not miss any place proper for those ends, for fear of wanting such necessaries as we could not live without. This coast is high and mountainous, and not so thick with trees as that on the other side of Cape Orford. ANOTHER BAY. THE INHABITANTS THERE. On the 14th, seeing a pretty deep bay ahead, and some islands where I thought we might ride secure, we ran in towards the shore and saw some smokes. At 10 o'clock we saw a point which shot out pretty well into the sea, with a bay within it which promised fair for water; and we stood in with a moderate gale. Being got into the bay within the point we saw many coconut-trees, plantations, and houses. When I came within 4 or 5 mile of the shore 6 small boats came off to view us, with about 40 men in them all. Perceiving that they only came to view us and would not come aboard, I made signs and waved to them to go ashore; but they did not or would not understand me; therefore I whistled a shot over their heads out of my fowling-piece, and then they pulled away for the shore as hard as they could. These were no sooner ashore but we saw 3 boats coming from the islands to leeward of us, and they soon came within call; for we lay becalmed. One of the boats had about 40 men in her, and was a large well-built boat; the other 2 were but small. Not long after I saw another boat coming out of that bay where I intended to go: she likewise was a large boat, with a high head and stern painted and full of men; this I thought came off to fight us, as it is probable they all did; therefore I fired another small shot over the great boat that was nigh us, which made them leave their babbling and take to their paddles. We still lay becalmed; and therefore they, rowing wide of us, directed their course toward the other great boat that was coming off: when they were pretty near each other I caused the gunner to fire a gun between them which he did very dexterously; it was loaded with round and partridge-shot; the last dropped in the water somewhat short of them, but the round shot went between both boats and grazed about 100 yards beyond them; this so affrighted them that they rowed away for the shore as fast as they could, without coming near each other; and the little boats made the best of their way after them: and now, having a gentle breeze at south-south-east, we bore in to the bay after them. When we came by the point I saw a great number of men peeping from under the rocks: I ordered a shot to be fired close by to scare them. The shot grazed between us and the point; and, mounting again, flew over the point, and grazed a second time just by them. We were obliged to sail along close by the bays; and, seeing multitudes setting under the trees, I ordered a third gun to be fired among the coconut-trees to scare them; for, my business being to wood and water, I thought it necessary to strike some terror into the inhabitants, who were very numerous, and (by what I saw now and had formerly experienced) treacherous. After this I sent my boat to sound; they had first 40, then 30, and at last 20 fathom water. We followed the boat and came to anchor about a quarter of a mile from the shore in 26 fathom water, fine black sand and oaze. We rode right against the mouth of a small river where I hoped to find fresh water. Some of the natives standing on a small point at the river's mouth, I sent a small shot over their heads to fright them; which it did effectually. A LARGE ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR'S ATTEMPTS TO TRADE WITH THEM. In the afternoon I sent my boat ashore to the natives who stood upon the point by the river's mouth with a present of coconuts; when the boat was come near the shore they came running into the water, and put their nuts into the boat. Then I made a signal for the boat to come aboard, and sent both it and the yawl into the river to look for fresh water, ordering the pinnace to lie near the river's mouth while the yawl went up to search. In an hour's time they returned aboard with some barrecoes full of fresh water, which they had taken up about half a mile up the river. After which I sent them again with casks; ordering one of them to fill water, and the other to watch the motion of the natives, lest they should make any opposition; but they did not, and so the boats returned a little before sunset with a tun and a half of water; and the next day by noon brought aboard about 6 tun of water. I sent ashore commodities to purchase hogs, etc., being informed that the natives have plenty of them, as also of yams and other good roots; but my men returned without getting anything that I sent them for; the natives being unwilling to trade with us: yet they admired our hatchets and axes; but would part with nothing but coconuts; which they used to climb the trees for; and so soon as they gave them our men they beckoned to them to be gone; for they were much afraid of us. The 18th I sent both boats again for water, and before noon they had filled all my casks. In the afternoon I sent them both to cut wood; but, seeing about 40 natives standing on the bay at a small distance from our men, I made a signal for them to come aboard again; which they did, and brought me word that the men which we saw on the bay were passing that way, but were afraid to come nigh them. At 4 o'clock I sent both the boats again for more wood, and they returned in the evening. Then I called my officers to consult whether it were convenient to stay here longer, and endeavour a better acquaintance with these people or go to sea. My design of tarrying here longer was, if possible, to get some hogs, goats, yams and other roots; as also to get some knowledge of the country and its product. My officers unanimously gave their opinions for staying longer here. So the next day I sent both boats ashore again to fish and to cut more wood. While they were ashore about 30 or 40 men and women passed by them; they were a little afraid of our people at first; but upon their making signs of friendship they passed by quietly; the men finely bedecked with feathers of divers colours about their heads, and lances in their hands; the women had no ornament about them, nor anything to cover their nakedness but a bunch of small green boughs before and behind, stuck under a string which came round their waists. They carried large baskets on their heads, full of yams. And this I have observed amongst all the wild natives I have known that they make their women carry the burdens, while the men walk before without any other load than their arms and ornaments. At noon our men came aboard with the wood they had cut, and had caught but 6 fishes at 4 or 5 hauls of the seine, though we saw abundance of fish leaping in the bay all the day long. In the afternoon I sent the boats ashore for more wood; and some of our men went to the natives' houses, and found they were now more shy than they used to be; had taken down all the coconuts from the trees and driven away their hogs. Our people made signs to them to know what was become of their hogs, etc. The natives, pointing to some houses in the bottom of the bay, and imitating the noise of those creatures, seemed to intimate that there were both hogs and goats of several sizes, which they expressed by holding their hands abroad at several distances from the ground. At night our boats came aboard with wood, and the next morning I went myself with both boats up the river to the watering-place, carrying with me all such trifles and iron-work as I thought most proper to induce them to a commerce with us; but I found them very shy and roguish. I saw but 2 men and a boy: one of the men by some signs was persuaded to come to the boat's side, where I was; to him I gave a knife, a string of beads, and a glass bottle; the fellow called out, "cocos, cocos," pointing to a village hard by, and signified to us that he would go for some; but he never returned to us. And thus they had frequently of late served our men. I took 8 or 9 men with me and marched to their houses, which I found very mean; and their doors made fast with withes. I visited 3 of their villages; and, finding all the houses thus abandoned by the inhabitants, who carried with them all their hogs etc., I brought out of their houses some small fishing-nets in recompense for those things they had received of us. As we were coming away we saw 2 of the natives; I showed them the things that we carried with us and called to them "cocos, cocos," to let them know that I took these things because they had not made good what they had promised by their signs, and by their calling out "cocos." While I was thus employed the men in the yawl filled 2 hogsheads of water and all the barrecoes. About 1 in the afternoon I came aboard and found all my officers and men very importunate to go to that bay where the hogs were said to be. I was loth to yield to it, fearing they would deal too roughly with the natives. By 2 o'clock in the afternoon many black clouds gathered over the land, which I thought would deter them from their enterprise; but they solicited me the more to let them go. At last I consented, sending those commodities I had ashore with me in the morning, and giving them a strict charge to deal by fair means, and to act cautiously for their own security. The bay I sent them to was about 2 miles from the ship. As soon as they were gone I got all things ready that, if I saw occasion, I might assist them with my great guns. When they came to land the natives in great companies stood to resist them; shaking their lances and threatening them; and some were so daring as to wade into the sea, holding a target in one hand and a lance in the other. Our men held up to them such commodities as I had sent, and made signs of friendship; but to no purpose; for the natives waved them off. Seeing therefore they could not be prevailed upon to a friendly commerce, my men, being resolved to have some provision among them, fired some muskets to scare them away; which had the desired effect upon all but 2 or 3, who stood still in a menacing posture till the boldest dropped his target and ran away; they supposed he was shot in the arm: he and some others felt the smart of our bullets but none were killed; our design being rather to fright than to kill them. Our men landed and found abundance of tame hogs running among the houses. They shot down 9, which they brought away, besides many that ran away wounded. They had but little time; for in less than an hour after they went from the ship it began to rain: wherefore they got what they could into the boats; for I had charged them to come away if it rained. By that time the boat was aboard and the hogs taken in it cleared up; and my men desired to make another trip thither before night; this was about 5 in the evening; and I consented, giving them order to repair on board before night. In the close of the evening they returned accordingly with 8 hogs more, and a little live pig; and by this time the other hogs were jerked and salted. These that came last we only dressed and corned till morning; and then sent both boats ashore for more refreshments, either of hogs or roots: but in the night the natives had conveyed away their provisions of all sorts. Many of them were now about the houses, and none offered to resist our boats landing, but on the contrary were so amicable that one man brought 10 or 12 coconuts, left them on the shore after he had showed them to our men, and went out of sight. Our people finding nothing but nets and images brought some of them away; which 2 of my men brought aboard in a small canoe; and presently after, my boats came off. I ordered the boatswain to take care of the nets, till we came at some place where they might be disposed of for some refreshment for the use of all the company: the images I took into my own custody. In the afternoon I sent the canoe the place from whence she had been brought; and in her, 2 axes, 2 hatchets (one of them helved) 6 knives, 6 looking-glasses, a large bunch of beads, and 4 glass bottles. Our men drew the canoe ashore, placed the things to the best advantage in her; and came off in the pinnace which I sent to guard them. And now, being well stocked with wood and all my water-casks full, I resolved to sail the next morning. All the time of our stay here we had very fair weather; only sometimes in the afternoon we had a shower of rain which lasted not above an hour at most: also some thunder and lightning with very little wind. We had sea- and land-breezes; the former between the south-south-east, and the latter from north-east to north-west. HE NAMES THE PLACE PORT MONTAGUE. THE COUNTRY THEREABOUTS DESCRIBED, AND ITS PRODUCE. This place I named port Montague in honour of my noble patron. It lies in the latitude of 6 degrees 10 minutes south, and meridian distance from Cape St. George 151 miles west. The country hereabouts is mountainous and woody, full of rich valleys and pleasant fresh-water brooks. The mould in the valleys is deep and yellowish; that on the sides of the hills of a very brown colour, and not very deep, but rocky underneath; yet excellent planting land. The trees in general are neither very straight, thick, nor tall; yet appear green and pleasant enough: some of them bore flowers, some berries, and others big fruits; but all unknown to any of us. Coconut-trees thrive very well here; as well on the bays by the seaside, as more remote among the plantations. The nuts are of an indifferent size, the milk and kernel very thick and pleasant. Here is ginger, yams, and other very good roots for the pot, that our men saw and tasted. What other fruits or roots the country affords I know not. Here are hogs and dogs; other land-animals we saw none. The fowls we saw and knew were pigeons, parrots, cockadores, and crows like those in England; a sort of birds about the bigness of a blackbird, and smaller birds many. The sea and rivers have plenty of fish; we saw abundance, though we caught but few, and these were cavallies, yellow-tails and whip-rays. A BURNING ISLAND DESCRIBED. We departed from hence on the 22nd of March, and on the 24th in the evening we saw some high land bearing north-west half west; to the west of which we could see no land, though there appeared something like land bearing west a little southerly; but, not being sure of it, I steered west-north-west all night, and kept going on with an easy sail, intending to coast along the shore at a distance. At 10 o'clock I saw a great fire bearing north-west by west, blazing up in a pillar, sometimes very high for 3 or 4 minutes, then falling quite down for an equal space of time; sometimes hardly visible, till it blazed up again. I had laid me down having been indisposed this 3 days: but upon a sight of this my chief mate called me; I got up and viewed it for about half an hour and knew it to be a burning hill by its intervals: I charged them to look well out, having bright moonlight. In the morning I found that the fire we had seen the night before was a burning island; and steered for it. We saw many other islands, one large high island, and another smaller, but pretty high. I stood near the volcano and many small low islands with some shoals. A NEW PASSAGE FOUND. March the 25th 1700 in the evening we came within 3 leagues of this burning hill, being at the same time 2 leagues from the main. I found a good channel to pass between them, and kept nearer the main than the island. At 7 in the evening I sounded, and had 52 fathom fine sand and oaze. I stood to the northward to get clear of this strait, having but little wind and fair weather. The island all night vomited fire and smoke very amazingly; and at every belch we heard a dreadful noise like thunder, and saw a flame of fire after it, the most terrifying that ever I saw. The intervals between its belches were about half a minute, some more, others less: neither were these pulses or eruptions alike; for some were but faint convulsions in comparison of the more vigorous; yet even the weakest vented a great deal of fire; but the largest made a roaring noise, and sent up a large flame 20 or 30 yards high; and then might be seen a great stream of fire running down to the foot of the island, even to the shore. From the furrows made by this descending fire we could in the daytime see great smokes arise, which probably were made by the sulphureous matter thrown out of the funnel at the top which, tumbling down to the bottom and there lying in a heap, burned till either consumed or extinguished; and as long as it burned and kept its heat so long the smoke ascended from it; which we perceived to increase or decrease, according to the quantity of matter discharged from the funnel. But the next night, being shot to the westward of the burning island, and the funnel of it lying on the south side, we could not discern the fire there as we did the smoke in the day when we were to the southward of it. This volcano lies in the latitude of 5 degrees 33 minutes south, and meridian distance from Cape St. George 332 miles west. NEW BRITAIN. The eastermost part of New Guinea lies 40 miles to the westward of this tract of land, and by hydrographers they are made joining together: but here I found an opening and passage between, with many islands; the largest of which lie on the north side of this passage or strait. The channel is very good, between the islands and the land to the eastward. The east part of New Guinea is high and mountainous, ending on the north-east with a large promontory, which I named King William's Cape in honour of his present majesty. We saw some smokes on it; and, leaving it on our larboard side, steered away near the east land which ends with two remarkable capes or heads distant from each other about 6 or 7 leagues. Within each head were two very remarkable mountains, ascending very gradually from the seaside; which afforded a very pleasant and agreeable prospect. The mountains and lower land were pleasantly mixed with woodland and savannahs. The trees appeared very green and flourishing; and the savannahs seemed to be very smooth and even; no meadow in England appears more green in the spring than these. We saw smokes but did not strive to anchor here; but rather chose to get under one of the islands (where I thought I should find few or no inhabitants) that I might repair my pinnace, which was so crazy that I could not venture ashore anywhere with her. As we stood over to the islands we looked out very well to the north, but could see no land that way; by which I was well assured that we were got through, and that this east land does not join to New Guinea; therefore I named it New Britain. The north-west cape I called Cape Gloucester, and the south-west point Cape Anne; and the north-west mountain, which is very remarkable, I called Mount Gloucester. This island which I called New Britain has about 4 degrees of latitude: the body of it lying in 4 degrees and the northermost part in 2 degrees 30 minutes and the southermost in 6 degrees 30 minutes south. It has about 5 degrees 18 minutes longitude from east to west. It is generally high, mountainous land, mixed with large valleys; which as well as the mountains appeared very fertile; and in most places that we saw the trees are very large, tall and thick. It is also very well inhabited with strong well-limbed negroes, whom we found very daring and bold at several places. As to the product of it I know no more than what I have said in my account of Port Montague: but it is very probable this island may afford as many rich commodities as any in the world; and the natives may be easily brought to commerce, though I could not pretend to it under my present circumstances. SIR GEORGE ROOK'S ISLAND. Being near the island to the northward of the volcano I sent my boat to sound, thinking to anchor here; but she returned and brought me word that they had no ground, till they met with a reef of coral rocks about a mile from the shore. Then I bore away to the north side of the island where we found no anchoring neither. We saw several people, and some coconut-trees, but could not send ashore for want of my pinnace which was out of order. In the evening I stood off to sea to be at such a distance that I might not be driven by any current upon the shoals of this island if it should prove calm. We had but little wind, especially the beginning of the night; but in the morning I found myself so far to the west of the island that, the wind being at east-south-east, I could not fetch it; wherefore I kept on to the southward and stemmed with the body of a high island about 11 or 12 leagues long, lying to the southward of that which I before designed for. I named this island Sir George Rook's Island. LONG ISLAND AND CROWN ISLAND, DISCOVERED AND DESCRIBED. We also saw some other islands to the westward; which may be better seen in my chart of these lands than here described. But, seeing a very small island lying to the north-west of the long island which was before us, and not far from it, I steered away for that; hoping to find anchoring there: and, having but little wind, I sent my boat before to sound; which, when we were about 2 miles distance from the shore, came on board and brought me word that there was good anchoring in 30 or 40 fathom water, a mile from the isle and within a reef of the rocks which lay in a half-moon, reaching from the north part of the island to the south-east: so at noon we got in and anchored in 36 fathom a mile from the isle. In the afternoon I sent my boat ashore to the island to see what convenience there was to haul our vessel ashore in order to be mended, and whether we could catch any fish. My men in the boat rowed about the island, but could not land by reason of the rocks and a great surge running in upon the shore. We found variation here 8 degrees 25 minutes west. I designed to have stayed among these islands till I had got my pinnace refitted; but, having no more than one man who had skill to work upon her, I saw she would be a long time in repairing (which was one great reason why I could not prosecute my discoveries further) and, the easterly winds being set in, I found I should scarce be able to hold my ground. The 31st in the forenoon we shot in between 2 islands lying about 4 leagues asunder; with intention to pass between them. The southermost is a long island with a high hill at each end; this I named Long island. The northermost is a round high island towering up with several heads or tops, something resembling a crown; this I named Crown Isle from its form. Both these islands appeared very pleasant, having spots of green savannahs mixed among the woodland: the trees appeared very green and flourishing, and some of them looked white and full of blossoms. We passed close by Crown Isle; saw many coconut-trees on the bays and the sides of the hills; and one boat was coming off from the shore but returned again. We saw no smokes on either of the islands, neither did we see any plantations; and it is probable they are not very well peopled. We saw many shoals near Crown Island, and reefs of rocks running off from the points a mile or more into the sea. My boat was once overboard with design to have sent her ashore; but, having little wind and seeing some shoals, I hoisted her in again and stood off out of danger. SIR R. RICH'S ISLAND. In the afternoon, seeing an island bearing north-west by west, we steered away north-west by north, to be to the northward of it. The next morning, being about midway from the islands we left yesterday, and having this to the westward of us; the land of the main of New Guinea within us to the southward appeared very high. When we came within 4 or 5 leagues of this island to the west of us, 4 boats came off to view us: one came within call, but returned with the other 3 without speaking to us: so we kept on for the island which I named Sir R. Rich's Island. It was pretty high, woody, and mixed with savannahs like those formerly mentioned. Being to the north of it we saw an opening between it and another island 2 leagues to the west of it, which before appeared all in one. The main seemed to be high land, trending to the westward. A BURNING ISLAND. On Tuesday the 2nd of April about 8 in the morning we discovered a high peaked island to the westward which seemed to smoke at its top. The next day we passed by the north side of the burning island and saw a smoke again at its top; but, the vent lying on the south side of the peak, we could not observe it distinctly, nor see the fire. We afterwards opened 3 more islands and some land to the southward, which we could not well tell whether it were islands or part of the main. These islands are all high, full of fair trees and spots of green savannahs; as well the burning isle as the rest; but the burning isle was more round and peaked at top, very fine land near the sea, and for two-thirds up it. We also saw another isle sending forth a great smoke at once; but it soon vanished, and we saw it no more. We saw also among these islands 3 small vessels with sails, which the people on New Britain seem wholly ignorant of. A STRANGE SPOUT. The 11th at noon, having a very good observation, I found myself to the northward of my reckoning; and thence concluded that we had a current setting north-west, or rather more westerly, as the land lies. From that time to the next morning we had fair clear weather and a fine moderate gale from south-east to east by north: but at daybreak the clouds began to fly, and it lightned very much in the east, south-east and north-east. At sun-rising the sky looked very red in the east near the horizon; and there were many black clouds both to the south and north of it. About a quarter of an hour after the sun was up there was a squall to the windward of us; when on a sudden one of our men on the forecastle called out that he saw something astern, but could not tell what: I looked out for it and immediately saw a spout beginning to work within a quarter of a mile of us, exactly in the wind. We presently put right before it. It came very swiftly, whirling the water up in a pillar about 6 or 7 yards high. As yet I could not see any pendulous cloud from whence it might come; and was in hopes it would soon lose its force. In 4 or 5 minutes time it came within a cable's length of us and passed away to leeward; and then I saw a long pale stream coming down to the whirling water. This stream was about the bigness of a rainbow: the upper end seemed vastly high, not descending from any dark cloud and therefore the most strange to me; I never having seen the like before. It passed about a mile to leeward of us and then broke. This was but a small spout, not strong nor lasting; yet I perceived much wind in it as it passed by us. The current still continued at north-west a little westerly, which I allowed to run a mile per hour. A CONJECTURE CONCERNING A NEW PASSAGE SOUTHWARD. By an observation the 13th at noon I found myself 25 minutes to the northward of my reckoning; whether occasioned by bad steerage, a bad account, or a current, I could not determine; but was apt to judge it might be a complication of all; for I could not think it was wholly the current, the land here lying east by south, and west by north, or a little more northerly and southerly. We had kept so nigh as to see it, and at farthest had not been above 20 leagues from it, but sometimes much nearer; and it is not probable that any current should set directly off from a land. A tide indeed may; but then the flood has the same force to strike in upon the shore as the ebb to strike off from it: but a current must have set nearly alongshore either easterly or westerly; and if anything northerly or southerly, it could be but very little in comparison of its east or west course, on a coast lying as this doth; which yet we did not perceive. If therefore we were deceived by a current it is very probable that the land is here disjoined, and that there is a passage through to the southward, and that the land from King William's Cape to this place is an island, separated from New Guinea by some strait as New Britain is by that which we came through. But this being at best but a probable conjecture I shall insist no farther upon it. KING WILLIAM'S ISLAND. The 14th we passed by Schouten's Island and Providence Island, and found still a very strong current setting to the north-west. On the 17th the we saw a high mountain on the main that sent forth great quantities of smoke from its top: this volcano we did not see in our voyage out. In the afternoon we discovered King William's Island, and crowded all the sail we could to get near it before night; thinking to lie to the eastward of it till day, for fear of some shoals that lie at the west end of it. Before night we got within 2 leagues of it and, having a fine gale of wind and a light moon, I resolved to pass through in the night; which I hoped to do before 12 o'clock if the gale continued; but when we came within 2 miles of it it fell calm; yet afterwards, by the help of the current, a small gale, and our boat, we got through before day. In the night we had a very fragrant smell from the island. STRANGE WHIRLPOOLS. By morning-light we were got 2 leagues to the westward of it; and then were becalmed all the morning; and met such whirling tides that when we came into them the ship turned quite round; and though sometimes we had a small gale of wind yet she could not feel the helm when she came into these whirlpools: neither could we get from amongst them till a brisk gale sprang up; yet we drove not much any way, but whirled round like a top. And those whirlpools were not constant to one place, but drove about strangely; and sometimes we saw among them large ripplings of the water, like great overfalls, making a fearful noise. I sent my boat to sound but found no ground. DISTANCE BETWEEN CAPE MABO AND CAPE ST. GEORGE COMPUTED. The 18th Cape Mabo bore south distance 9 leagues. By which account it lies in the latitude of 50 minutes south and meridian distance from Cape St. George 1243 miles. St. John's Isle lies 48 miles to the east of Cape St. George; which, being added to the distance between Cape St. George and Cape Mabo, makes 1291 meridional parts; which was the furthest that I was to the east. In my outward-bound voyage I made meridian distance between Cape Mabo and Cape St. George 1290 miles; and now in my return but 1243; which is 47 short of my distance going out. This difference may probably be occasioned by the strong western current which we found in our return, which I allowed for after I perceived it; and though we did not discern any current when we went to the eastward, except when near the islands, yet it is probable we had one against us, though we did not take notice of it because of the strong westerly winds. King William's Island lies in the latitude of 21 minutes south, and may be seen distinctly off of Cape Mabo. In the evening we passed by Cape Mabo; and afterwards steered away south-east half east, keeping along the shore which here trends south-easterly. The next morning, seeing a large opening in the land with an island near the south side, I stood in, thinking to anchor there. When we were shot in within 2 leagues of the island the wind came to the west, which blows right into the opening. I stood to the north shore; intending, when I came pretty nigh, to send my boat into the opening, and sound before I would adventure in. We found several deep bays, but no soundings within 2 miles of the shore; therefore I stood off again. Then, seeing a rippling under our lee, I sent my boat to sound on it; which returned in half an hour and brought me word that the rippling we saw was only a tide, and that they had no ground there. CHAPTER 5. NAVIGATION AMONG THE ISLANDS. THE AUTHOR'S RETURN FROM THE COAST OF NEW GUINEA. The wind seeming to incline to east, as might be expected according to the season of the year, I rather chose to shape my course as these winds would best permit than strive to return the same way we came; which, for many leagues, must have been against this monsoon: though indeed, on the other hand, the dangers in that way we already knew; but what might be in this by which we now proposed to return we could not tell. A DEEP CHANNEL. We were now in a channel about 8 on 9 leagues wide, having a range of islands on the north side, and another on the south side, and very deep water between, so that we had no ground. The 22nd of April in the morning I sent my boat ashore to an island on the north side, and stood that way with the ship. They found no ground till within a cable's length of the shore, and then had coral rocks; so that they could not catch any fish, though they saw a great many. They brought aboard a small canoe, which they found adrift. They met with no game ashore save only one party-coloured parakeet. The land is of an indifferent height; very rocky, yet clothed with tall trees, whose bare roots run along upon the rocks. Our people saw a pond of salt-water but found no fresh. Near this island we met a pretty strong tide but found neither tide nor current off at some distance. On the 24th, being about 2 leagues from an island to the southward of us, we came over a shoal on which we had but 5 fathom and a half. We did not descry it till we saw the ground under us. In less than half an hour before the boat had been sounding in discoloured water, but had no ground. We manned the boat presently and towed the ship about; and then sounding had 12, 15, and 17 fathom, and then no ground with our hand-lead. The shoal was rocky; but in 12 and 15 fathom we had oazy ground. STRANGE TIDES. We found here very strange tides that ran in streams, making a great sea; and roaring so loud that we could hear them before they came within a mile of us. The sea round about them seemed all broken, and tossed the ship so that she would not answer her helm. These ripplings commonly lasted 10 or 12 minutes, and then the sea became as still and smooth as a mill-pond. We sounded often when in the midst of them, and afterwards in the smooth water; but found no ground, neither could we perceive that they drove us any way. We had in one night several of these tides that came most of them from the west; and, the wind being from that quarter, we commonly heard them a long time before they came; and sometimes lowered our topsails, thinking it was a gust of wind. They were of great length from north to south, but their breadth not exceeding 200 yards, and they drove a great pace: for though we had little wind to move us, yet these would soon pass away and leave the water very smooth, and just before we encountered them we met a great swell but it did not break. THE ISLAND CERAM DESCRIBED. The 26th we saw the island Ceram; and still met some ripplings, but much fainter than those we had the 2 preceding days. We sailed along the island Ceram to the westward, edging in withal, to see if peradventure we might find a harbour to anchor in where we might water, trim the ship, and refresh our men. In the morning we saw a sail to the north of us, steering in for the west end of Ceram, as we likewise were. In the evening, being near the shore on the north side of the island, I stood off to sea with an easy sail; intending to stand in for the shore in the morning, and try to find anchoring to fill water, and get a little fish for refreshment. Accordingly in the morning early I stood in with the north-west point of Ceram; leaving a small island, called Bonao, to the west. The sail we saw the day before was now come pretty nigh us, steering in also (as we did) between Ceram and Bonao. I shortened sail a little for him; and when he got abreast of us not above 2 miles off I sent my boat aboard. It was a Dutch sloop, come from Ternate, and bound for Amboina: my men whom I sent in the boat bought 5 bags of new rice, each containing about 130 pounds, for 6 Spanish dollars. The sloop had many rare parrots aboard for sale which did not want price. A Malayan merchant aboard told our men that about 6 months ago he was at Bencola, and at that time the governor either died or was killed, and that the commander of an English ship then in that road succeeded to that government. In the afternoon, having a breeze at north and north-north-east, I sent my boat to sound and, standing after her with the ship, anchored in 30 fathom water oazy sand, half a mile from the shore, right against a small river of fresh water. The next morning I sent both the boats ashore to fish; they returned about 10 o'clock with a few mullets and 3 or 4 cavallies, and some pan-fish. We found variation here 2 degrees 15 minutes east. When the sea was smooth by the land-winds we sent our boats ashore for water; who, in a few turns, filled all our casks. The land here is low, swampy and woody; the mould is a dark grey, friable earth. Two rivers came out within a bow-shot of each other, just opposite to the place where we rode: one comes right down out of the country; and the other from the south, running along by the shore, not musket-shot from the seaside. The northernmost river is biggest, and out of it we filled our water; our boats went in and out at any time of tide. In some places the land is overflown with fresh water, at full sea. The land hereabouts is full of trees unknown to us, but none of them very large or high; the woods yield many wild fruits and berries, such as I never saw elsewhere. We met with no land animals. STRANGE FOWLS. The fowls we found were pigeons, parrots, cockadores, and a great number of small birds unknown to me. One of the master's mates killed 2 fowls as big as crows; of a black colour, excepting that the tails were all white. Their necks were pretty long, one of which was of a saffron-colour, the other black. They had very large bills much like a ram's horn; their legs were strong and short, and their claws like a pigeon's; their wings of an ordinary length: yet they make a great noise when they fly, which they do very heavily. They feed on berries, and perch on the highest trees. Their flesh is sweet; I saw some of the same species at New Guinea, but nowhere else. THE ISLANDS BONAO, BOURO, MISACOMBI, PENTARE, LAUBANA, AND POTORO. May the 3rd at 6 in the morning we weighed, intending to pass between Bonao and Ceram; but presently after we got under sail we saw a pretty large proa coming about the north-west point of Ceram. Wherefore I stood to the north to speak with her, putting aboard our ensign. She, seeing us coming that way, went into a small creek and skulked behind a point a while: at last discovering her again I sent my boat to speak with her; but the proa rowed away and would not come nigh it. After this, finding I could not pass between Bonao and Ceram as I purposed, I steered away to the north of it. This Bonao is a small island lying about 4 leagues from the north-west point of Ceram. I was informed by the Dutch sloop before mentioned that, notwithstanding its smallness, it has one fine river, and that the Dutch are there settled. Whether there be any natives on it or not I know not, nor what its produce is. They further said that the Ceramers were their mortal enemies; yet that they were settled on the westermost point of Ceram in spite of the natives. The next day as we approached the island Bouro there came off from it a very fragrant scent, much like that from King William's Island; and we found so strong a current setting to the westward that we could scarce stem it. We plied to get to the southward, intending to pass between Bouro and Keelang. In the evening, being near the west end of Bouro, we saw a brigantine to the north-west of us, on the north side of Bouro, standing to the eastward. I would not stand east or west for fear of coming nigh the land which was on each side of us, namely Bouro on the west, and Keelang on the east. The next morning we found ourselves in mid-channel between both islands; and having the wind at south-west we steered south-south-east, which is right through between both. At 11 o'clock it fell calm; and so continued till noon; by that time the brigantine which we saw astern the night before was got 2 or 3 leagues ahead of us. It is probable she met a strong land-wind in the evening which continued all night; she keeping nearer the shore than I could safely do. She might likewise have a tide or current setting easterly, where she was; though we had a tide setting northwardly against us, we being in mid-channel. About 8 at night the brigantine which we saw in the day came close along by us on our weather-side: our guns were all ready before night, matches lighted, and small arms on the quarter-deck ready loaded. She standing one way and we another; we soon got further asunder. But I kept good watch all the night and in the morning saw her astern of us, standing as we did. At 10 o'clock, having little wind, I sent the yawl aboard of her. She was a Chinese vessel laden with rice, arrack, tea, porcelain, and other commodities, bound for Amboina. The commander said that his boat was gone ashore for water, and asked our men if they saw her; for she had been wanting for 2 or 3 days, and they knew not what was become of her. They had their wives and children aboard, and probably came to settle at some new Dutch factory. The commander also informed us that the Dutch had lately settled at Ampoulo, Menippe, Bonao, and on a point of Ceram. The next day we passed out to the southward between Keelang and Bouro. After this we had for several days a current setting southerly, and a great tumbling sea, occasioned more by the strong current than by winds, as was apparent by the jumping of its waves against each other; and by observation I found 25 miles more southing than our course gave us. On the 14th we discovered the island Misacomba, and the next day sailed along to the west on the north side of the island. In some charts it is called Omba; it is a mountainous island, spotted with woods and savannahs; about 20 leagues long and 5 or 6 broad. We saw no signs of inhabitants on it. We fell in nearest to the west end of it; and therefore I chose to pass on to the westward, intending to get through to the southward between this and the next isle to the west of it, or between any other 2 islands to the west, where I should meet with the clearest passage; because the winds were now at north-east and east-north-east, and the isle lies nearly east and west; so that if the winds continued I might be a long time in getting to the east end of it, which yet I knew to be the best passage. In the night, being at the west end and seeing no clear passage, I stood off with an easy sail, and in the morning had a fine land-wind, which would have carried us 5 or 6 leagues to the east if we had made the best of it; but we kept on only with a gentle gale for fear of a westerly current. In the morning, finding we had not met with any current as we expected, as soon as it was light we made sail to the westward again. After noon, being near the end of the isle Pentare which lies west from Misacomba, we saw many houses and plantations in the country, and many coconut-trees growing by the seaside. We also saw several boats sailing across a bay or channel at the west end of Misacomba, between it and Pentare. We had but little wind, and that at north, which blows right in with a swell rolling in withal; wherefore I was afraid to venture in, though probably there might be good anchoring and a commerce with the natives. I continued steering to the west, because, the night before at sun-setting, I saw a small round high island to the west of Pentare, where I expected a good passage. THE PASSAGE BETWEEN PENTARE AND LAUBANA. We could not that day reach the west end of Pentare, but saw a deep bay to the west of us, where I thought might be a passage through, between Pentare and Laubana. But as yet the lands were shut one within another, that we could not see any passage. Therefore I ordered to sail 7 leagues more westerly, and lie by till next day. In the morning we looked out for an opening but could see none; yet by the distance and bearing of a high round island called Potoro, we were got to the west of the opening, but not far from it. Wherefore I tacked and stood to the east, and the rather, because I had reason to suppose this to be the passage we came through in the Cygnet mentioned in my Voyage round the World; but I was not yet sure of it because we had rainy weather, so that we could not now see the land so well as we did then. We then accidentally saw the opening at our first falling in with the islands; which now was a work of some time and difficul to discover. However before 10 o'clock we saw the opening plain; and I was the more confirmed in my knowledge of this passage by a spit of sand and 2 islands at the north-east part of its entrance. The wind was at south-south-west and we plied to get through before night; for we found a good tide helping us to the south. About 7 or 8 leagues to the west of us we saw a high round peaked mountain, from whose top a smoke seemed to ascend as from a volcano. There were 3 other very high peaked mountains, 2 on the east and one on the west of that which smoked. In our plying to get through between Pentare and Laubana we had (as I said) a good tide or current setting us to the southward. And it is to be observed that near the shores in these parts we commonly find a tide setting northwardly or southwardly as the land lies; but the northwardly tide sets not above 3 hours in 12, having little strength; and sometimes it only checks the contrary current which runs with great violence, especially in narrow passes such as this between 2 islands. It was 12 at night before we got clear of 2 other small islands that lay on the south side of the passage; and there we had a very violent tide setting us through against a brisk gale of wind. Notwithstanding which I kept the pinnace out, for fear we should be becalmed. For this is the same place through which I passed in the year 1687, mentioned in my Voyage round the World, only then we came out between the western small island and Laubana, and now we came through between the two small islands. We sounded frequently but had no ground. I said there that we came through between Omba and Pentare: for we did not then see the opening between those 2 islands; which made me take the west side of Pentare for the west end of Omba, and Laubana for Pentare. But now we saw the opening between Omba and Pentare; which was so narrow that I would not venture through: besides I had now discovered my mistake, and hoped to meet with the other passage again, as indeed we did, and found it to be bold from side to side, which in the former voyage I did not know. THE ISLAND TIMOR. After we were through we made the best of our way to Timor, and on May the 18th in the morning we saw it plain, and made the high land over Laphao the Portuguese factory, as also the high peak over our first watering-place, and a small round island about midway between them. We coasted along the island Timor, intending to touch at Babao, to get a little water and refreshments. I would not go into the bay where we first watered, because of the currents which there whirl about very strangely, especially at spring tides which were now setting in; besides, the south-east winds come down in flaws from the mountains, so that it would have been very dangerous for us. BABAO BAY. Wherefore we crowded all the sail we could to get to Babao before night, or at least to get sight of the sandy island at the entrance of the bay; but could not. So we plied all night; and the next morning entered the bay. There being good ground all over this bay we anchored at 2 o'clock in 30 fathom water, soft oazy ground. And the morning after I sent my boat ashore with the seine to fish. At noon she returned and brought enough for all the ship's company. They saw an Indian boat at a round rocky island about a mile from them. On the 22nd I sent my boat ashore again to fish: at noon she returned with a few fish, which served me and my officers. They caught one whiting, the first I had seen in these seas. Our people went over to the rocky island and there found several jars of turtle, and some hanging up a-drying, and some cloths; their boat was about a mile off, striking turtle. Our men left all as they found. In the afternoon a very large shark came under our stern; I never had seen any near so big before. I put a piece of meat on a hook for him but he went astern and returned no more. About midnight, the wind being pretty moderate, I weighed and stood into the bottom of the bay, and ran over nearer the south shore, where I thought to lie and water, and at convenient times get fish for our refreshment. The next morning I sent my pinnace with 2 hogsheads and 10 barrecoes for water; they returned at noon with the casks full of water; very thick and muddy, but sweet and good. We found variation 15 minutes west. THE ISLAND ROTI. This afternoon, finding that the breezes were set in here, and that it blew so hard that I could neither fish nor fill water without much difficulty and hazard of the boat; I resolved to be gone, having good quantity of water aboard. Accordingly at half an hour after 2 in the morning we weighed with the wind at east by south, and stood to sea. We coasted along by the island Roti which is high land, spotted with woods and savannahs. The trees appeared small and shrubby, and the savannahs dry and rusty. All the north side has sandy bays by the sea. We saw no houses nor plantations. MORE ISLANDS THAN ARE COMMONLY LAID DOWN IN THE CHARTS. GREAT CURRENTS. The next day we crowded all the sail we could to get to the west of all the isles before night but could not; for at 6 in the evening we saw land bearing south-west by west. For here are more islands than are laid down in any charts that I have seen. Wherefore I was obliged to make a more westerly course than I intended till I judged we might be clear of the land. And when we were so I could easily perceive by the ship's motion. For till then, being under the lee of the shore, we had smooth water; but now we had a troubled sea which made us dance lustily. This turbulent sea was occasioned in part by the current; which, setting out slanting against the wind, was by it raised into short cockling seas. I did indeed expect a south-west current here but not so very strong as we found it. On the 26th we continued to have a very strong current setting southwardly; but on what point exactly I know not. Our whole distance by log was but 82 miles, and our difference of latitude since yesterday noon by observation 100 miles, which is 18 miles more than the whole distance; and our course, allowing no leeway at all, was south 17 degrees west, which gives but 76 miles difference of latitude, 24 less than we found by observation. I did expect (as has been said) we might meet a great current setting to the south yesterday, because there is a constant current setting out from among those islands we passed through between Timor and the isles to the west of it, and it is probable, in all the other openings between the islands, even from the east end of Java to the end of all that range that runs from thence, both to the east and west of Timor; but, being got so far out to sea as we were, though there may be a very great current, yet it does not seem probable to me that it should be of so great strength as we now found: for both currents and tides lose their force in the open sea where they have room to spread; and it is only in narrow places or near headlands that their force is chiefly felt. Besides, in my opinion, it should here rather set to the west than south; being open to the narrow sea that divides New Holland from the range of islands before mentioned. The 27th we found that in the last 24 hours we had gone 9 miles less south than the log gave: so that it is probable we were then out of the southern current which we felt so much before. We saw many tropic-birds about us. And found variation 1 degree 25 minutes west. WHALES. On June the 1st we saw several whales, the first we had at this time seen on the coast: but when we were here before we saw many; at which time we were nearer the shore than now. The variation now was 5 degrees 38 minutes west. COAST OF NEW HOLLAND. I designed to have made New Holland in about the latitude of 20 degrees, and steered courses by day to make it, but in the night could not be so bold; especially since we had sounding. This afternoon I steered in south-west till 6 o'clock; then, it blowing fresh and night coming on, I steered west-south-west till we had 40 fathom; and then stood west, which course carries alongshore. In the morning again from 6 to 12 I steered west-south-west to have made the land but, not seeing it, I judged we were to the west of it. Here is very good soundings on this coast. When we passed this way to the eastward we had, near this latitude of 19 degrees 50 minutes 38 fathom, about 18 leagues from the land: but this time we saw not the land. The next morning I saw a great many scuttle-fish bones which was a sign that we were not far from the land. Also a great many weeds continually floating by us. We found the variation increase considerably as we went westward. For on the 3rd it was 6 degrees 10 minutes west; on the 4th, 6 degrees 20 minutes, and on the 6th, 7 degrees 20 minutes. That evening we saw some fowls like men-of-war-birds flying north-east, as I was told; for I did not see them, having been indisposed these 3 or 4 days. THE TRYAL ROCKS. On the 11th we found the variation 8 degrees 1 minute west; on the 12th, 6 degrees 0 minutes. I kept on my course to the westward till the 15th, and then altered it. My design was to seek for the Tryal Rocks; but, having been sick 5 or 6 days without any fresh provision or other good nourishment aboard, and seeing no likelihood of my recovery, I rather chose to go to some port in time than to beat here any longer; my people being very negligent when I was not upon deck myself; I found the winds variable, so that I might go any way, east, west, north, or south; wherefore it is probable I might have found the said rocks had not sickness prevented me; which discovery (whenever made) will be of great use to merchants trading to these parts. THE COAST OF JAVA. PRINCES ISLE. STRAITS OF SUNDA. THWART-THE-WAY ISLAND. From hence nothing material happened till we came upon the coast of Java. On the 23rd we saw Princes Isle plain, and the mouth of the Straits of Sunda. By my computation the distance between Timor and Princes Isle is 14 degrees 22 minutes. The next day in the afternoon, being abreast of Crockadore Island, I steered away east-north-east for an island that lies near midway between Sumatra and Java but nearest the Java shore; which is by Englishmen called Thwart-the-way. We had but small winds till about 3 o'clock when it freshened, and I was in good hopes to pass through before day: but at 9 o'clock the wind fell and we got but little. I was then abreast of Thwart-the-way, which is a pretty high long island; but before 11 the wind turned, and presently afterward it fell calm. I was then about 2 leagues from the said island; and, having a strong current against us, before day we were driven astern 4 or 5 leagues. In the morning we had the wind at north-north-west; it looked black and the wind unsettled: so that I could not expect to get through. I therefore stood toward the Java shore, and at 10 anchored in 24 fathom water, black oazy ground, 3 leagues from the shore. I sounded in the night when it was calm, and had 54 fathom, coarse sand and coral. INDIAN PROAS, AND THEIR TRAFFIC. In the afternoon before we had seen many proas; but none came off to us; and in the night we saw many fires ashore. This day a large proa came aboard of us, and lay by our side an hour. There were only 4 men in her, all Javians, who spoke the Malayan language. They asked if we were English; I answered we were; and presently one of them came aboard and presented me with a small hen, some eggs and coconuts; for which I gave some beads and a small looking-glass, and some glass bottles. They also gave me some sugarcane, which I distributed to such of my men as were scorbutic. They told me there were 3 English ships at Batavia. The 28th at 2 in the afternoon we anchored in 26 fathom water; presently it fell calm and began to rain very violently and so continued from 3 till 9 in the evening. At 1 in the morning we weighed with a fine land-wind at south-south-east; but presently, the wind coming about at east, we anchored; for we commonly found the current setting west. If at any time it turned it was so weak that it did us little good; and I did not think it safe to venture through without a pretty brisk leading gale; for the passage is but narrow, and I knew not what dangers might be in the way, nor how the tide sets in the narrow, having not been this way these 28 years, and all my people wholly strangers: we had the opening fair before us. PASSAGE THROUGH THE STRAIT. While we lay here 4 Malayan proas came from the shore, laden with coconuts, plantains, bananas, fowls, ducks, tobacco, sugar, etc. These were very welcome, and we purchased much refreshment of them. At 10 o'clock I dismissed all the boats, and weighed with the wind at north-west. At half an hour past 6 in the evening we anchored in 32 fathom water in a coarse sort of oaze. We were now past the island Thwart-the-way, but had still one of the small islands to pass. The tide began to run strong to the west; which obliged me to anchor while I had soundings, for fear of being driven back again or on some unknown sand. I lay still all night. At 5 o'clock the next morning the tide began to slacken: at 6 I weighed with the wind at south-east by east, a handsome breeze. We just weathered the Button; and, sounding several times, had still between 30 and 40 fathom. When we were abreast of the Button, and about 2 leagues from the westermost point of Java, we had 34 fathom, small peppery sand. You may either come between this island and Java, or, if the wind is northerly, run out between the island Thwart-the-way and this last small island. The wind for the most part being at east and east by south I was obliged to run over towards the Sumatra shore, sounding as I went, and had from 34 to 23 fathom. In the evening I sounded pretty quick, being got near the Sumatra shore; and, finding a current setting to the west between 8 and 9 o'clock, we anchored in 34 fathom. The tide set to the west from 7 in the evening to 7 this morning; and then, having a small gale at west-south-west, I weighed and stood over to the Java shore. In the evening, having the wind between east-north-east and south-east by east, we could not keep off the Java shore. Wherefore I anchored in 27 fathom water, about a league and a half off shore. At the same time we saw a ship at anchor near the shore, about 2 mile to leeward of us. We found the tide setting to the westward, and presently after we anchored it fell calm. We lay still all night and saw many fires ashore. At 5 the next morning, being July the 1st, we weighed and stood to the north for a seabreeze: at 10, the wind coming out, I tacked and had a fine brisk gale. The ship we saw at anchor weighed also and stood after us. While we passed by Pulo Baby I kept sounding and had no less than 14 fathom. The other ship, coming after us with all the sail she could make, I shortened sail on purpose that she might overtake us but she did not. A little after 5 I anchored in 13 fathom good oazy ground. About 7 in the evening the ship that followed us passed by close under our stern; she was a Dutch fly-boat; they told us they came directly from Holland, and had been in their passage six months. It was now dark, and the Dutch ship anchored within a mile of us. I ordered to look out sharp in the morning; that so soon as the Dutchman began to move we might be ready to follow him; for I intended to make him my pilot. In the morning at half an hour after 5 we weighed, the Dutchman being under sail before; and we stood directly after him. At 8, having but little wind, I sent my boat aboard of him to see what news he had brought from Europe. Soon after we spied a ship coming from the east, plying on a wind to speak with us, and showing English colours. I made a signal for my boat, and presently bore away towards her; and, being pretty nigh, the commander and supercargo came aboard, supposing we had been the Tuscany galley which was expected then at Batavia. This was a country ship belonging to Fort St. George, having come out from Batavia the day before, and bound to Bencola. The commander told me that the Fleet frigate was at anchor in Batavia Road, but would not stay there long: he told me also that His Majesty's ships commanded by Captain Warren were still in India, but he had been a great while from the coast and had not seen them. He gave me a chart of these straits from the Button and Cap to Batavia, and showed me the best way in thither. At 11 o'clock, it being calm, I anchored in 14 fathom good oazy ground. ARRIVAL AT BATAVIA. At 2 o'clock we weighed again; the Dutch ship being under sail before, standing close to Mansheters Island; but, finding he could not weather it, he tacked and stood off a little while, and then tacked again. In the meantime I stood pretty nigh the said island, sounding, but could not weather it. Then I tacked and stood off, and the Dutch stood in towards the island; and weathered it. I, being desirous to have room enough, stood off longer and then went about, having the Dutch ship 4 points under my lee. I kept after him; but as I came nearer the island I found a tide setting to the west, so that I could not weather it. Wherefore at 6 in the evening I anchored in 7 fathom oazy ground, about a mile from the island: the Dutch ship went about 2 miles further, and anchored also; and we both lay still all night. At 5 the next morning we weighed again, and the Dutch ship stood away between the island Cambusses and the main; but I could not follow because we had a land-wind. Wherefore I went without the Cambusses, and by noon we saw the ships that lay at the careening island near Batavia. After the land-wind was spent, which we had at south-east and south-south-east, the seabreeze came up at east. Then we went about; and, the wind coming afterward at east-north-east, we had a large wind to run us into Batavia Road: and at 4 in the afternoon we anchored in 6 fathom soft oaze. CHAPTER 6. HOME VOYAGE AND LOSS OF SHIP. THE AUTHOR CONTINUES IN BATAVIA ROAD TO REFIT, TO GET PROVISIONS. We found in Batavia Road a great many ships at anchor, most Dutch, and but one English ship named the Fleet frigate, commanded by one Merry. We rode a little without them all. Near the shore lay a stout China junk, and a great many small vessels, namely brigantines, sloops and Malayan proas in abundance. As soon as I anchored I sent my boat aboard the Fleet frigate with orders to make them strike their pennant, which was done soon after the boat went aboard. Then my clerk, whom I sent in the boat, went for the shore, as I had directed him, to see if the government would answer my salute: but it was now near night, and he had only time to speak with the ship-bander, who told him that the government would have answered my salute with the same number of guns if I had fired as soon as I anchored; but that now it was too late. In the evening my boat came aboard and the next morning I myself went ashore, visited the Dutch general, and desired the privilege of buying such provision and stores as I now wanted; which he granted me. I lay here till the 17th of October following, all which time we had very fair weather, some tornadoes excepted. In the meantime I supplied the carpenter with such stores as were necessary for refitting the ship; which proved more leaky after he had caulked her than she was before: so that I was obliged to careen her, for which purpose I hired vessels to take in our guns, ballast, provision and stores. ENGLISH SHIPS THEN IN THE ROAD. The English ships that arrived here from England were first the Liampo, commanded by Captain Monk, bound for China; next the Panther commanded by Captain Robinson; then the Mancel frigate, commanded by Captain Clerk. All these brought good tidings from England. Most of them had been unfortunate in their officers; especially Captain Robinson, who said that some of them had been conspiring to ruin him and his voyage. There came in also several English country vessels; first a sloop from Benjarr, commanded by one Russel, bound to Bengal, next the Monsoon, belonging to Bengal: she had been at Malacca at the same time that His Majesty's ship the Harwich was there: afterwards came in also another small ship from Bengal. While we stayed here all the forenamed English ships sailed hence; the 2 Bengal ships excepted. Many Dutch ships also came in here, and departed again before us. We had several reports concerning our men-of-war in India, and much talk concerning rovers who had committed several spoils upon the coast and in the Straits of Malacca. I did not hear of any ships sent out to quash them. At my first coming in I was told that 2 ships had been sent from Amboina in quest of me; which was lately confirmed by one of the skippers, whom I by accident met with here. He told me they had 3 protests against me; that they came to Pulo Sabuda on the coast of New Guinea 28 days after my departure thence, and went as far as Schouten's Island and, hearing no further news of me, returned. Something likewise to this purpose Mr. Merry, commander of the Fleet frigate, told me at my first arrival here; and that the general at Batavia had a copy of my commission and instructions; but I looked upon it as a very improbable thing. While we lay here the Dutch held several consultations about sending some ships for Europe sooner than ordinary: at last the 16th of October was agreed upon for the day of sailing, which is 2 months sooner than usual. They lay ready 2 or 3 days before, and went out on the 10th. Their names were the Ostresteen, bound to Zealand; the Vanheusen, for Enchiehoust; and the 3 Crowns, for Amsterdam, commanded by skipper Jacob Uncright, who was commodore over all the rest. I had by this time finished my business here, namely fitted the ship, recruited myself with provision, filled all my water; and, the time of the year to be going for Europe being now at hand, I prepared to be gone also. DEPARTURE FROM BATAVIA. Accordingly on the 17th of October, at half an hour after 6 in the morning, I weighed anchor from Batavia, having a good land-wind at south, and fair weather: and by the 19th at noon came up with the 3 Dutch ships before mentioned. The 29th of November in the morning we saw a small hawk flying about the ship till she was quite tired. Then she rested on the mizzen-topsail-yard, where we caught her. It is probable she was blown off from Madagascar by the violent northerly winds; that being the nighest land to us, though distance near 150 leagues. 1701. TOUCH AT THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE. The 30th December we arrived at the Cape of Good Hope and departed again on the 11th of January, 1701. About the end of the month we saw abundance of weeds or blubber swim by us, for I cannot determine which. It was all of one shape and colour. As they floated on the water they seemed to be of the breadth of the palm of a man's hand, spread out round into many branches about the bigness of a man's finger. They had in the middle a little knob, no bigger than the top of a man's thumb. They were of a smoke-colour; and the branches, by their pliantness in the water, seemed to be more simple than jellies, I have not seen the like before. AND AT ST. HELENA. The 2nd of February we anchored in St. Helena Road and set sail again from thence on the 13th. ARRIVAL AT THE ISLAND OF ASCENSION. A LEAK SPRUNG. On the 21st we made the island of Ascension and stood in towards it. The 22nd between 8 and 9 o'clock we sprung a leak which increased so that the chain-pump could not keep the ship free. Whereupon I set the hand-pump to work also, and by 10 o'clock sucked her: then wore the ship, and stood to the southward to try if that would ease her; and then the chain-pump just kept her free. At 5 the next morning we made sail and stood in for the bay; and at 9 anchored in 10 and a half fathom, sandy ground. The south point bore south-south-west distance 2 miles, and the north point of the bay north-east half north, distance 2 miles. As soon as we anchored I ordered the gunner to clear his powder-room that we might there search for the leak and endeavour to stop it within board if possible; for we could not heel the ship so low, it being within 4 streaks of the keel; neither was there any convenient place to haul her ashore. I ordered the boatswain to assist the gunner; and by 10 o'clock the powder-room was clear. The carpenter's mate, gunner, and boatswain went down; and soon after I followed them myself and asked them whether they could come at the leak: they said they believed they might, but cutting the ceiling; I told the carpenter's mate (who was the only person in the ship that understood anything of carpenter's work) that if he thought he could come at the leak by cutting the ceiling without weakening the ship he might do it, for he had stopped one leak so before; which though not so big as this, yet, having seen them both, I thought he might as well do this as the other. Wherefore I left him to do his best. The ceiling being cut, they could not come at the leak; for it was against one of the foot-hook-timbers which the carpenter's mate said he must first cut before it could be stopped. I went down again to see it, and found the water to come in very violently. I told them I never had known any such thing as cutting timbers to stop leaks; but if they who ought to be best judges in such cases thought they could do any good I bid them use their utmost care and diligence, promising the carpenter's mate that I would always be a friend to him if he could and would stop it: he said by 4 o'clock in the afternoon he would make all well, it being then about 11 in the forenoon. In the afternoon my men were all employed, pumping with both pumps; except such as assisted the carpenter's mate. About one in the afternoon I went down again and the carpenter's mate was cutting the after-part of the timber over the leak. Some said it was best to cut the timber away at once; I bid them hold their tongue and let the carpenter's mate alone; for he knew best and I hoped he would do his utmost to stop the leak. I desired him to get everything ready for stopping the violence of the water, before he cut any further; for fear it should overpower us at once. I had already ordered the carpenter to bring all the oakum he had, and the boatswain to bring all the waste cloths to stuff in upon occasion; and had for the same purpose sent down my own bedclothes. The carpenter's mate said he should want short stanchions to be placed so that the upper end should touch the deck, and the under-part rest on what was laid over the leak; and presently took a length for them. I asked the master-carpenter what he thought best to be done: he replied till the leak was all open, he could not tell. Then he went away to make a stanchion, but it was too long: I ordered him to make many of several lengths, that we might not want of any size. So once more desiring the carpenter's mate to use his utmost endeavours I went up, leaving the boatswain and some others there. About 5 o'clock the boatswain came to me and told me the leak was increased, and that it was impossible to keep the ship above water; when on the contrary I expected to have had the news of the leak's being stopped. I presently went down and found the timber cut away, but nothing in readiness to stop the force of the water from coming in. I asked them why they would cut the timber before they had got all things in readiness: the carpenter's mate answered they could do nothing till the timber was cut that he might take the dimensions of the place; and that there was a caulk which he had lined out, preparing by the carpenter's boy. I ordered them in the meantime to stop in oakum, and some pieces of beef; which accordingly was done, but all to little purpose: for now the water gashed in with such violence, notwithstanding all our endeavours to check it, that it flew in over the ceiling; and for want of passage out of the room overflowed it above 2 foot deep. I ordered the bulkhead be cut open, to give passage to the water that it might drain out of the room; and withal ordered to clear away abaft the bulkhead, that we might bail: so now we had both pumps going and as many bailing as could; and by this means the water began to decrease; which gave me some hope of saving the ship. I asked the carpenter's mate what he thought of it; he said "Fear not; for by 10 o'clock at night I'll engage to stop the leak." I went from him with a heavy heart; but, putting a good countenance upon the matter, encouraged my men, who pumped and bailed very briskly; and when I saw occasion I gave them some drams to comfort them. About 11 o'clock at night the boatswain came to me and told me that the leak still increased; and that the plank was so rotten it broke away like dirt; and that now it was impossible to save the ship; for they could not come at the leak because the water in the room was got above it. The rest of the night we spent in pumping and bailing. I worked myself to encourage my men, who were very diligent; but the water still increased, and we now thought of nothing but saving our lives. Wherefore I hoisted out the boat that, if the ship should sink, yet we might be saved: and in the morning we weighed our anchor and warped in nearer the shore; yet did but little good. WHICH BEING IMPOSSIBLE TO BE STOPPED, THE SHIP IS LOST, BUT THE MEN SAVED. In the afternoon with the help of a seabreeze I ran into 7 fathom and anchored; then carried a small anchor ashore and warped in till I came into 3 fathom and a half. Where having fastened her I made a raft to carry the men's chests and bedding ashore; and before 8 at night most of them were ashore. In the morning I ordered the sails to be unbent, to make tents; and then myself and officers went ashore. I had sent ashore a puncheon and a 36 gallon cask of water with one bag of rice for our common use: but great part of it was stolen away before I came ashore, and many of my books and papers lost. THEY FIND WATER UPON THE ISLAND. On the 26th following we, to our great comfort, found a spring of fresh water about 8 miles from our tents, beyond a very high mountain which we must pass over: so that now we were, by God's Providence, in a condition of subsisting some time; having plenty of very good turtle by our tents, and water for the fetching. The next day I went up to see the watering-place, accompanied with most of my officers. We lay by the way all night and next morning early got thither; where we found a very fine spring on the south-east side of the high mountain, about half a mile from its top: but the continual fogs make it so cold here that it is very unwholesome living by the water. Near this place are abundance of goats and land-crabs. About 2 mile south-east from the spring we found 3 or 4 shrubby trees, upon one of which was cut an anchor and cable, and the year 1642. About half a furlong from these we found a convenient place for sheltering men in any weather. Hither many of our men resorted; the hollow rocks affording convenient lodging; the goats, land-crabs, men-of-war-birds and boobies good food; and the air was here exceeding wholesome. AND ARE BROUGHT BACK TO ENGLAND. About a week after our coming ashore our men that lived at this new habitation saw two ships making towards the island. Before night they brought me the news; and I ordered them to turn about a score of turtle to be in readiness for their ships if they should touch here: but before morning they were out of sight, and the turtle were released again. Here we continued without seeing any other ship till the second of April; when we saw 11 sail to windward of the island: but they likewise passed by. The day after appeared 4 sail, which came to anchor in this bay. They were His Majesty's ships the Anglesey, Hastings and Lizard; and the Canterbury East India ship. I went on board the Anglesey with about 35 of my men; and the rest were disposed of into the other 2 men-of-war. We sailed from Ascension the 8th; and continued aboard till the 8th of May: at which time the men-of-war, having missed St. Jago, where they designed to water, bore away for Barbados: but I being desirous to get to England as soon as possible took my passage in the ship Canterbury, accompanied with my master, purser, gunner, and 3 of my superior officers. ... INDEX. Anabao Island: its inhabitants. Ascension Island: water found there. Babao in Timor. Batavia: arrival there. its road. English ships there. departure from thence. Bird Island. Birds, strange. Bonao Island. Bouro Island. Britain, New. Bird (strange) killed on the coast of New Guinea. Burning island. Burning island, another described. Calabash-trees. Calalaloo, herb. Cana-fistula-tree described. Cape Orford in New Guinea. Cape of Good Hope in New Guinea. Cave's, Anthony, Island. Cape, King William's. Cape and Port Gloucester. Cape Anne. Ceram Island described. Channel, a deep one. Ciccale, Port. Cockles, very big. Cockle-merchant, a fish. Cockle Island on the coast of New Guinea. Cupang Bay in Timor (see Kupang). Cross Island, discovered and described. Currents (see Tides). Distance between Cape Mabo and Cape St. George computed. Dutch: the author's parley with them. their suspicion of the author. Charts (Dutch), their falseness. Dutch fort called Concordia. Ende Island. Fetter Island. Figtrees of Timor described. Fish, strange. Fowls, strange. Gerrit Denis (Garret Dennis) Island, inhabitants described. Jelly found in the sea. George, St.: Cape and Bay in New Guinea. another bay. the inhabitants there. a large account of the author's attempt to trade with them. New Guinea coast: inhabitants. their manner of fishing. the author departs from New Guinea. Java Island. Indian plantation on the island Timor. Indian proas and their traffic. John's, St., Island. King William's Island. Laphao in Timor. Laubana Island. Leak sprung, incurable. Long Island described. Lorantuca. Mabo, Cape. Man-of-war-birds. Mansheter's Island. Matthias Island. Misacomba Island. Montague: Port in New Guinea. the country thereabouts described and its produce. New Guinea. Nova Britannia, (see New Britain). Omba Island. Palmtrees: a new one conjectured. a new one discovered. two sorts described. Parley with the Portuguese at Timor. Pentare Island. Pigeons, great numbers of them on the coast of New Guinea. Porta Nova. Providence Island. Princes Isle. Pulo Subada Isle. Pulo Baby. Return (the author's) to England. Rich's (Sir R.) Island. Ringing-bird. Rook's (Sir George) Island. Roti (Rotee) Island. Rosemary Island. Sago, how made. Sandal-tree. Schouten's Island. Sesial Port in Timor. Shark's Bay. Ship lost. Slingers Bay. Snakes: land-snakes. Spout. Squally Island. Sunda Straits. Terra Australis Incognita, what to be expected there. Thwart-the-way Island. Tides strange and uncertain, see Currents. Timor Island: described. the Dutch settlement. the Portuguese settlement. its inhabitants. its fruits and animals. trade. weather. the author's departure from it. Trees full of worms found in the sea. Tryal Rocks. Turtle Isles. Variation. Volcanoes. Watersnakes. Whales. Whirlpools. Wishart's Island. 
16768	----	(PLATE 16. A MALAY BOY, NATIVE OF BENCOOLEN. T. Heaphy delt. A. Cardon fecit. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) THE HISTORY OF SUMATRA, CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF THE GOVERNMENT, LAWS, CUSTOMS, AND MANNERS OF THE NATIVE INHABITANTS, WITH A DESCRIPTION OF THE NATURAL PRODUCTIONS, AND A RELATION OF THE ANCIENT POLITICAL STATE OF THAT ISLAND. BY WILLIAM MARSDEN, F.R.S. THE THIRD EDITION, WITH CORRECTIONS, ADDITIONS, AND PLATES. LONDON: PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY J. M'CREERY, BLACK-HORSE-COURT, AND SOLD BY LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 1811. ... THE HISTORY OF SUMATRA. CONTENTS. PREFACE. CHAPTER 1. SITUATION. NAME. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY, ITS MOUNTAINS, LAKES, AND RIVERS. AIR AND METEORS. MONSOONS, AND LAND AND SEA-BREEZES. MINERALS AND FOSSILS. VOLCANOES. EARTHQUAKES. SURFS AND TIDES. CHAPTER 2. DISTINCTION OF INHABITANTS. REJANGS CHOSEN FOR GENERAL DESCRIPTION. PERSONS AND COMPLEXION. CLOTHING AND ORNAMENTS. CHAPTER 3. VILLAGES. BUILDINGS. DOMESTIC UTENSILS. FOOD. CHAPTER 4. AGRICULTURE. RICE, ITS CULTIVATION, ETC. PLANTATIONS OF COCONUT, BETEL-NUT, AND OTHER VEGETABLES FOR DOMESTIC USE. DYE STUFFS. CHAPTER 5. FRUITS, FLOWERS, MEDICINAL SHRUBS AND HERBS. CHAPTER 6. BEASTS. REPTILES. FISH. BIRDS. INSECTS. CHAPTER 7. VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS OF THE ISLAND CONSIDERED AS ARTICLES OF COMMERCE. PEPPER. CULTIVATION OF PEPPER. CAMPHOR. BENZOIN. CASSIA, ETC. CHAPTER 8. GOLD, TIN, AND OTHER METALS. BEESWAX. IVORY. BIRDS-NEST, ETC. IMPORT-TRADE. CHAPTER 9. ARTS AND MANUFACTURES. ART OF MEDICINE. SCIENCES. ARITHMETIC. GEOGRAPHY. ASTRONOMY. MUSIC, ETC. CHAPTER 10. LANGUAGES. MALAYAN. ARABIC CHARACTER USED. LANGUAGES OF THE INTERIOR PEOPLE. PECULIAR CHARACTERS. SPECIMENS OF LANGUAGES AND OF ALPHABETS. CHAPTER 11. COMPARATIVE STATE OF THE SUMATRANS IN CIVIL SOCIETY. DIFFERENCE OF CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER INHABITANTS. GOVERNMENT. TITLES AND POWER OF THE CHIEFS AMONG THE REJANGS. INFLUENCE OF THE EUROPEANS. GOVERNMENT IN PASSUMMAH. CHAPTER 12. LAWS AND CUSTOMS. MODE OF DECIDING CAUSES. CODE OF LAWS. CHAPTER 13. REMARKS ON, AND ELUCIDATION OF, THE VARIOUS LAWS AND CUSTOMS. MODES OF PLEADING. NATURE OF EVIDENCE. OATHS. INHERITANCE. OUTLAWRY. THEFT, MURDER, AND COMPENSATION FOR IT. ACCOUNT OF A FEUD. DEBTS. SLAVERY. CHAPTER 14. MODES OF MARRIAGE, AND CUSTOMS RELATIVE THERETO. POLYGAMY. FESTIVALS. GAMES. COCK-FIGHTING. USE AND EFFECTS OF OPIUM. CHAPTER 15. CUSTOM OF CHEWING BETEL. EMBLEMATIC PRESENTS. ORATORY. CHILDREN. NAMES. CIRCUMCISION. FUNERALS. RELIGION. CHAPTER 16. THE COUNTRY OF LAMPONG AND ITS INHABITANTS. LANGUAGE. GOVERNMENT. WARS. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. RELIGION. CHAPTER 17. ACCOUNT OF THE INLAND COUNTRY OF KORINCHI. EXPEDITION TO THE SERAMPEI AND SUNGEI-TENANG COUNTRIES. CHAPTER 18. MALAYAN STATES. ANCIENT EMPIRE OF MENANGKABAU. ORIGIN OF THE MALAYS AND GENERAL ACCEPTATION OF NAME. EVIDENCES OF THEIR MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA. SUCCESSION OF MALAYAN PRINCES. PRESENT STATE OF THE EMPIRE. TITLES OF THE SULTAN. CEREMONIES. CONVERSION TO MAHOMETAN RELIGION. LITERATURE. ARTS. WARFARE. GOVERNMENT. CHAPTER 19. KINGDOMS OF INDRAPURA, ANAK-SUNGEI, PASSAMMAN, SIAK. CHAPTER 20. THE COUNTRY OF THE BATTAS. TAPPANULI-BAY. JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR. CASSIA-TREES. GOVERNMENTS. ARMS. WARFARE. TRADE. FAIRS. FOOD. MANNERS. LANGUAGE. WRITING. RELIGION. FUNERALS. CRIMES. EXTRAORDINARY CUSTOM. CHAPTER 21. KINGDOM OF ACHIN. ITS CAPITAL. AIR. INHABITANTS. COMMERCE. MANUFACTURES. NAVIGATION. COIN. GOVERNMENT. REVENUES. PUNISHMENTS. CHAPTER 22. HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM OF ACHIN, FROM THE PERIOD OF ITS BEING VISITED BY EUROPEANS. CHAPTER 23. BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE ISLANDS LYING OFF THE WESTERN COAST OF SUMATRA. LIST OF PLATES. PLATE 1. THE PEPPER-PLANT, Piper nigrum. E.W. Marsden delt. Engraved by J. Swaine, Queen Street, Golden Square. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 2. THE DAMMAR, A SPECIES OF PINUS. Sinensis delt. Swaine Sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 3. THE MANGUSTIN FRUIT, Garcinia mangostana. Engraved by J. Swaine. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 4. THE RAMBUTAN, Nephelium lappaceum. L. Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 5. THE LANSEH FRUIT, Lansium domesticum. L. Wilkins delt. Hooker Sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 6. THE RAMBEH FRUIT, A SPECIES OF LANSEH. Maria Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 7. THE KAMILING OR BUAH KRAS, Juglans camirium. L. Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 8. Marsdenia tinctoria, OR BROAD-LEAFED INDIGO. E.W. Marsden delt. Swaine fct. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 9. A SPECIES OF Lemur volans, SUSPENDED FROM THE RAMBEH-TREE. Sinensis delt. N. Cardon fct. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 9a. THE MUSANG, A SPECIES OF VIVERRA. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 10. THE TANGGILING OR PENG-GOLING-SISIK, A SPECIES OF MANIS. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fct. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 11. n.1. THE ANJING-AYER, Mustela lutra. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fc. PLATE 11a. n.2. 1. SKULL OF THE KAMBING-UTAN. 2. SKULL OF THE KIJANG. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon sc. PLATE 12. n.1. THE PALANDOK, A DIMINUTIVE SPECIES OF MOSCHUS. Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc. PLATE 12a. n.2. THE KIJANG OR ROE, Cervus muntjak. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 13. n.1. THE LANDAK, Hystrix longicauda. Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 13a. n.2. THE ANJING-AYER. Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 14. n.1. THE KAMBING-UTAN, OR WILD-GOAT. W. Bell delt. PLATE 14a. n.2. THE KUBIN, Draco volans. Sinensis delt. A. Cardon sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 15. BEAKS OF THE BUCEROS OR HORN-BILL. M. de Jonville delt. Swaine sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 16. A MALAY BOY, NATIVE OF BENCOOLEN. T. Heaphy delt. A. Cardon fecit. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 17. SUMATRAN WEAPONS. A. A Malay Gadoobang. B. A Batta Weapon. C. A Malay Creese. One-third of the size of the Originals. W. Williams del. and sculpt. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 17a. SUMATRAN WEAPONS. D. A Malay Creese. E. An Achenese Creese. F. A Malay Sewar. One-third of the size of the Originals. W. Williams del. and sculpt. PLATE 18. ENTRANCE OF PADANG RIVER. With Buffaloes. PLATE 18A. VIEW OF PADANG HILL. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 19. A VILLAGE HOUSE IN SUMATRA. W. Bell delt. J.G. Stadler sculpt. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 19a. A PLANTATION HOUSE IN SUMATRA. W. Bell delt. J.G. Stadler sculpt. INDEX. ... PREFACE. The island of Sumatra, which, in point of situation and extent, holds a conspicuous rank on the terraqueous globe, and is surpassed by few in the bountiful indulgences of nature, has in all ages been unaccountably neglected by writers insomuch that it is at this day less known, as to the interior parts more especially, than the remotest island of modern discovery; although it has been constantly resorted to by Europeans for some centuries, and the English have had a regular establishment there for the last hundred years. It is true that the commercial importance of Sumatra has much declined. It is no longer the Emporium of Eastern riches whither the traders of the West resorted with their cargoes to exchange them for the precious merchandise of the Indian Archipelago: nor does it boast now the political consequence it acquired when the rapid progress of the Portuguese successes there first received a check. That enterprising people, who caused so many kingdoms to shrink from the terror of their arms, met with nothing but disgrace in their attempts against Achin, whose monarchs made them tremble in their turn. Yet still the importance of this island in the eye of the natural historian has continued undiminished, and has equally at all periods laid claim to an attention that does not appear, at any, to have been paid to it. The Portuguese being better warriors than philosophers, and more eager to conquer nations than to explore their manners or antiquities, it is not surprising that they should have been unable to furnish the world with any particular and just description of a country which they must have regarded with an evil eye. The Dutch were the next people from whom we had a right to expect information. They had an early intercourse with the island, and have at different times formed settlements in almost every part of it; yet they are almost silent with respect to its history.* But to what cause are we to ascribe the remissness of our own countrymen, whose opportunities have been equal to those of their predecessors or contemporaries? It seems difficult to account for it; but the fact is that, excepting a short sketch of the manners prevailing in a particular district of the island, published in the Philosophical Transactions of the year 1778, not one page of information respecting the inhabitants of Sumatra has been communicated to the public by any Englishman who has resided there. (*Footnote. At the period when this remark was written, I was not aware that an account of the Dutch settlements and commerce in Sumatra by M. Adolph Eschels-kroon had in the preceding year been published at Hamburgh, in the German language; nor had the transactions of a literary society established at Batavia, whose first volume appeared there in 1779, yet reached this country. The work, indeed, of Valentyn, containing a general history of the European possessions in the East Indies, should have exempted a nation to which oriental learning is largely indebted from what I now consider as an unmerited reflection.) To form a general and tolerably accurate account of this country and its inhabitants is a work attended with great and peculiar difficulties. The necessary information is not to be procured from the people themselves, whose knowledge and inquiries are to the last degree confined, scarcely extending beyond the bounds of the district where they first drew breath; and but very rarely have the almost impervious woods of Sumatra been penetrated to any considerable distance from the sea coast by Europeans, whose observations have been then imperfect, trusted perhaps to memory only, or, if committed to paper, lost to the world by their deaths. Other difficulties arise from the extraordinary diversity of national distinctions, which, under a great variety of independent governments, divide this island in many directions; and yet not from their number merely, nor from the dissimilarity in their languages or manners, does the embarrassment entirely proceed: the local divisions are perplexed and uncertain; the extent of jurisdiction of the various princes is inaccurately defined; settlers from different countries and at different periods have introduced an irregular though powerful influence that supersedes in some places the authority of the established governments, and imposes a real dominion on the natives where a nominal one is not assumed. This, in a course of years, is productive of innovations that destroy the originality and genuineness of their customs and manners, obliterate ancient distinctions, and render confused the path of an investigator. These objections, which seem to have hitherto proved unsurmountable with such as might have been inclined to attempt the history of Sumatra, would also have deterred me from an undertaking apparently so arduous, had I not reflected that those circumstances in which consisted the principal difficulty were in fact the least interesting to the public, and of the least utility in themselves. It is of but small importance to determine with precision whether a few villages on this or that particular river belong to one petty chief or to another; whether such a nation is divided into a greater or lesser number of tribes; or which of two neighbouring powers originally did homage to the other for its title. History is only to be prized as it tends to improve our knowledge of mankind, to which such investigations contribute in a very small degree. I have therefore attempted rather to give a comprehensive than a circumstantial description of the divisions of the country into its various governments; aiming at a more particular detail in what respects the customs, opinions, arts, and industry of the original inhabitants in their most genuine state. The interests of the European powers who have established themselves on the island; the history of their settlements, and of the revolutions of their commerce I have not considered as forming a part of my plan; but these subjects, as connected with the accounts of the native inhabitants and the history of their governments, are occasionally introduced. I was principally encouraged to this undertaking by the promises of assistance I received from some ingenious and very highly esteemed friends who resided with me in Sumatra. It has also been urged to me here in England that, as the subject is altogether new, it is a duty incumbent on me to lay the information I am in possession of, however defective, before the public, who will not object to its being circumscribed whilst its authenticity remains unimpeachable. This last quality is that which I can with the most confidence take upon me to vouch for. The greatest portion of what I have described has fallen within the scope of my own immediate observation; the remainder is either matter of common notoriety to every person residing in the island, or received upon the concurring authority of gentlemen whose situation in the East India Company's service, long acquaintance with the natives, extensive knowledge of their language, ideas, and manners, and respectability of character, render them worthy of the most implicit faith that can be given to human testimony. I have been the more scrupulously exact in this particular because my view was not, ultimately, to write an entertaining book to which the marvellous might be thought not a little to contribute, but sincerely and conscientiously to add the small portion in my power to the general knowledge of the age; to throw some glimmering light on the path of the naturalist; and more especially to furnish those philosophers whose labours have been directed to the investigation of the history of Man with facts to serve as data in their reasonings, which are too often rendered nugatory, and not seldom ridiculous, by assuming as truths the misconceptions or wilful impositions of travellers. The study of their own species is doubtless the most interesting and important that can claim the attention of mankind; and this science, like all others, it is impossible to improve by abstract speculation merely. A regular series of authenticated facts is what alone can enable us to rise towards a perfect knowledge in it. To have added one new and firm step in this arduous ascent is a merit of which I should be proud to boast. ... Of this third edition it is necessary to observe that, the former two having made their appearance so early as the years 1783 and 1784, it would long since have been prepared for the public eye had not the duties of an official situation occupied for many years the whole of my attention. During that period, however, I received from my friends abroad various useful, and, to me at least, interesting communications which have enabled me to correct some inaccuracies, to supply deficiencies, and to augment the general mass of information on the subject of an island still but imperfectly explored. To incorporate these new materials requiring that many liberties should be taken with the original contexture of the work, I became the less scrupulous of making further alterations wherever I thought they could be introduced with advantage. The branch of natural history in particular I trust will be found to have received much improvement, and I feel happy to have had it in my power to illustrate several of the more interesting productions of the vegetable and animal kingdoms by engravings executed from time to time as the drawings were procured, and which are intended to accompany the volume in a separate atlas. ... THE HISTORY OF SUMATRA. CHAPTER 1. SITUATION. NAME. GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY, ITS MOUNTAINS, LAKES, AND RIVERS. AIR AND METEORS. MONSOONS, AND LAND AND SEA-BREEZES. MINERALS AND FOSSILS. VOLCANOES. EARTHQUAKES. SURFS AND TIDES. If antiquity holds up to us some models, in different arts and sciences, which have been found inimitable, the moderns, on the other hand, have carried their inventions and improvements, in a variety of instances, to an extent and a degree of perfection of which the former could entertain no ideas. Among those discoveries in which we have stepped so far beyond our masters there is none more striking, or more eminently useful, than the means which the ingenuity of some, and the experience of others, have taught mankind, of determining with certainty and precision the relative situation of the various countries of the earth. What was formerly the subject of mere conjecture, or at best of vague and arbitrary computation, is now the clear result of settled rule, founded upon principles demonstratively just. It only remains for the liberality of princes and states, and the persevering industry of navigators and travellers, to effect the application of these means to their proper end, by continuing to ascertain the unknown and uncertain positions of all the parts of the world, which the barriers of nature will allow the skill and industry of man to approach. SITUATION OF THE ISLAND. Sumatra, the subject of the present work, is an extensive island in the East Indies, the most western of those which may be termed the Malayan Archipelago, and constituting its boundary on that side. LATITUDE. The equator divides it obliquely, its general direction being north-west and south-east, into almost equal parts; the one extremity lying in five degrees thirty-three minutes north, and the other in five degrees fifty-six minutes south latitude. In respect to relative position its northern point stretches into the Bay of Bengal; its south-west coast is exposed to the great Indian Ocean; towards the south it is separated by the Straits of Sunda from the island of Java; on the east by the commencement of the Eastern and China Seas from Borneo and other islands; and on the north-east by the Straits of Malacca from the peninsula of Malayo, to which, according to a tradition noticed by the Portuguese historians, it is supposed to have been anciently united. LONGITUDE. The only point of the island whose longitude has been settled by actual observation is Fort Marlborough, near Bencoolen, the principal English settlement, standing in three degrees forty-six minutes of south latitude. From eclipses of Jupiter's satellites observed in June 1769, preparatory to an observation of the transit of the planet Venus over the sun's disc, Mr. Robert Nairne calculated its longitude to be 101 degrees 42 minutes 45 seconds; which was afterwards corrected by the Astronomer Royal to 102 degrees east of Greenwich. The situation of Achin Head is pretty accurately fixed by computation at 95 degrees 34 minutes; and longitudes of places in the Straits of Sunda are well ascertained by the short runs from Batavia, which city has the advantage of an observatory. MAP. By the general use of chronometers in latter times the means have been afforded of determining the positions of many prominent points both on the eastern and western coasts, by which the map of the island has been considerably improved: but particular surveys, such as those of the bays and islets from Batang-kapas to Padang, made with great ability by Captain (now Lieutenant-Colonel) John Macdonald; of the coast from Priaman to the islands off Achin by Captain George Robertson; and of Siak River by Mr. Francis Lynch, are much wanted; and the interior of the country is still very imperfectly known. From sketches of the routes of Mr. Charles Campbell and of Lieutenant Hastings Dare I have been enabled to delineate the principal features of the Sarampei, Sungei Tenang and Korinchi countries, inland of Ipu, Moco-moco, and Indrapura; and advantage has been taken of all other information that could be procured. For the general materials from which the map is constructed I am chiefly indebted to the kindness of my friend, the late Mr. Alexander Dalrymple, whose indefatigable labours during a long life have contributed more than those of any other person to the improvement of Indian Hydrography. It may be proper to observe that the map of Sumatra to be found in the fifth volume of Valentyn's great work is so extremely incorrect, even in regard to those parts immediately subject to the Dutch government, as to be quite useless. UNKNOWN TO THE ANCIENTS. TAPROBANE. Notwithstanding the obvious situation of this island in the direct track from the ports of India to the Spice Islands and to China, it seems to have been unknown to the Greek and Roman geographers, whose information or conjectures carried them no farther than Selan-dib or Ceylon, which has claims to be considered as their Taprobane; although during the middle ages that celebrated name was almost uniformly applied to Sumatra. The single circumstance indeed of the latter being intersected by the equator (as Taprobane was said to be) is sufficient to justify the doubts of those who were disinclined to apply it to the former; and whether in fact the obscure and contradictory descriptions given by Strabo, Pomponius Mela, Pliny, and Ptolemy, belonged to any actual place, however imperfectly known; or whether, observing that a number of rare and valuable commodities were brought from an island or islands in the supposed extremity of the East, they might have been led to give place in their charts to one of vast extent, which should stand as the representative of the whole, is a question not to be hastily decided. OPHIR. The idea of Sumatra being the country of Ophir, whither Solomon sent his fleets for cargoes of gold and ivory, rather than to the coast of Sofala, or other part of Africa, is too vague, and the subject wrapped in a veil of too remote antiquity, to allow of satisfactory discussion; and I shall only observe that no inference can be drawn from the name of Ophir found in maps as belonging to a mountain in this island and to another in the peninsula; these having been applied to them by European navigators, and the word being unknown to the natives. Until the discovery of the passage to India by the Cape of Good Hope the identity of this island as described or alluded to by writers is often equivocal, or to be inferred only from corresponding circumstances. ARABIAN TRAVELLERS. The first of the two Arabian travellers of the ninth century, the account of whose voyages to India and China was translated by Renaudot from a manuscript written about the year 1173, speaks of a large island called Ramni, in the track between Sarandib and Sin (or China), that from the similarity of productions has been generally supposed to mean Sumatra; and this probability is strengthened by a circumstance I believe not hitherto noticed by commentators. It is said to divide the Sea of Herkend, or Indian Ocean, from the Sea of Shelahet) Salahet in Edrisi), and Salat being the Malayan term both for a strait in general, and for the well-known passage within the island of Singapura in particular, this may be fairly presumed to refer to the Straits of Malacca. EDRISI. Edrisi, improperly called the Nubian geographer, who dedicated his work to Roger, King of Sicily, in the middle of the twelfth century, describes the same island, in the first climate, by the name of Al-Rami; but the particulars so nearly correspond with those given by the Arabian traveller as to show that the one account was borrowed from the other. He very erroneously however makes the distance between Sarandib and that island to be no more than three days' sail instead of fifteen. The island of Soborma, which he places in the same climate, is evidently Borneo, and the two passages leading to it are the Straits of Malacca and of Sunda. What is mentioned of Sumandar, in the second climate, has no relation whatever to Sumatra, although from the name we are led to expect it. MARCO POLO. Marco Polo, the celebrated Venetian traveller of the thirteenth century, is the first European who speaks of this island, but under the appellation of Java minor, which he gave to it by a sort of analogy, having forgotten, or not having learned from the natives, its appropriate name. His relation, though for a long time undervalued, and by many considered as a romantic tale, and liable as it is to the charge of errors and omissions, with some improbabilities, possesses, notwithstanding, strong internal evidence of genuineness and good faith. Containing few dates, the exact period of his visit to Sumatra cannot be ascertained, but as he returned to Venice in 1295, and possibly five years might have elapsed in his subsequent tedious voyages and journeys by Ceylon, the Karnatick, Malabar, Guzerat, Persia, the shores of the Caspian and Euxine, to Genoa (in a prison at which place he is said to have dictated his narrative), we may venture to refer it to the year 1290. Taking his departure, with a considerable equipment, from a southern port of China, which he (or his transcriber) named Zaitum, they proceeded to Ziamba (Tsiampa or Champa, adjoining to the southern part of Cochin-China) which he had previously visited in 1280, being then in the service of the emperor Kublai Khan. From thence, he says, to the island of Java major is a course of fifteen hundred miles, but it is evident that he speaks of it only from the information of others, and not as an eyewitness; nor is it probable that the expedition should have deviated so far from its proper route. He states truly that it is a mart for spices and much frequented by traders from the southern provinces of China. He then mentions in succession the small uninhabited islands of Sondur and Condur (perhaps Pulo Condore); the province of Boeach otherwise Lochac (apparently Camboja, near to which Condore is situated); the island of Petan (either Patani or Pahang in the peninsula) the passage to which, from Boeach, is across a gulf (that of Siam); and the kingdom called Malaiur in the Italian, and Maletur in the Latin version, which we can scarcely doubt to be the Malayan kingdom of Singa-Pura, at the extremity of the peninsula, or Malacca, then beginning to flourish. It is not however asserted that he touched at all these places, nor does he seem to speak from personal knowledge until his arrival at Java minor (as he calls it) or Sumatra. This island, lying in a south-eastern direction from Petan (if he does not rather mean from Malaiur, the place last mentioned) he expressly says he visited, and describes it as being in circumference two thousand miles (not very wide of the truth in a matter so vague), extending to the southward so far as to render the Polar Star invisible, and divided into eight kingdoms, two of which he did not see, and the six others he enumerates as follows: Ferlech, which I apprehend to be Parlak, at the eastern extremity of the northern coast, where they were likely to have first made the land. Here he says the people in general were idolaters; but the Saracen merchants who frequented the place had converted to the faith of Mahomet the inhabitants of the towns, whilst those of the mountains lived like beasts, and were in the practice of eating human flesh. Basma or Basman: this nearly approaches in sound to Pasaman on the western coast, but I should be more inclined to refer it to Pase (by the Portuguese written Pacem) on the northern. The manners of the people here, as in the other kingdoms, are represented as savage; and such they might well appear to one who had long resided in China. Wild elephants are mentioned, and the rhinoceros is well described. Samara: this I suppose to be Samar-langa, likewise on the northern coast, and noted for its bay. Here, he says, the expedition, consisting of two thousand persons, was constrained to remain five months, waiting the change of the monsoon; and, being apprehensive of injury from the barbarous natives, they secured themselves, by means of a deep ditch, on the land side, with its extremities embracing the port, and strengthened by bulwarks of timber. With provisions they were supplied in abundance, particularly the finest fish. There is no wheat, and the people live on rice. They are without vines, but extract an excellent liquor from trees of the palm kind by cutting off a branch and applying to it a vessel which is filled in the course of a day and night. A description is then given of the Indian or coconut. Dragoian, a name bearing some though not much resemblance to Indragiri on the eastern coast; but I doubt his having proceeded so far to the southward as that river. The customs of the natives are painted as still more atrocious in this district. When any of them are afflicted with disorders pronounced by their magicians to be incurable their relations cause them to be suffocated, and then dress and eat their flesh; justifying the practice by this argument, that if it were suffered to corrupt and breed worms, these must presently perish, and by their deaths subject the soul of the deceased to great torments. They also kill and devour such strangers caught amongst them as cannot pay a ransom. Lambri might be presumed a corruption of Jambi, but the circumstances related do not justify the analogy. It is said to produce camphor, which is not found to the southward of the equinoctial line; and also verzino, or red-wood (though I suspect benzuin to be the word intended), together with a plant which he names birci, supposed to be the bakam of the Arabs, or sappan wood of the eastern islands, the seeds of which he carried with him to Venice. In the mountainous parts were men with tails a palm long; also the rhinoceros, and other wild animals. Lastly, Fanfur or Fansur, which corresponds better to Campar than to the island of Panchur, which some have supposed it. Here the finest camphor was produced, equal in value to its weight in gold. The inhabitants live on rice and draw liquor from certain trees in the manner before described. There are likewise trees that yield a species of meal. They are of a large size, have a thin bark, under which is a hard wood about three inches in thickness, and within this the pith, from which, by means of steeping and straining it, the meal (or sago) is procured, of which he had often eaten with satisfaction. Each of these kingdoms is said to have had its peculiar language. Departing from Lambri, and steering northward from Java minor one hundred and fifty miles, they reached a small island named Necuram or Norcueran (probably Nancowry, one of the Nicobars), and afterwards an island named Angaman (Andaman), from whence, steering to the southward of west a thousand miles, they arrived at that of Zeilan or Seilam, one of the most considerable in the world. The editions consulted are chiefly the Italian of Ramusio, 1583, Latin of Muller, 1671, and French of Bergeron, 1735, varying much from each other in the orthography of proper names. ODORICUS. Odoricus, a friar, who commenced his travels in 1318 and died at Padua in 1331, had visited many parts of the East. From the southern part of the coast of Coromandel he proceeded by a navigation of twenty days to a country named Lamori (perhaps a corruption of the Arabian Al-rami), to the southward of which is another kingdom named Sumoltra, and not far from thence a large island named Java. His account, which was delivered orally to the person by whom it was written down, is extremely meagre and unsatisfactory. MANDEVILLE. Mandeville, who travelled in the fourteenth century, seems to have adopted the account of Odoricus when he says, "Beside the isle of Lemery is another that is clept Sumobor; and fast beside a great isle clept Java." NICOLO DI CONTI. Nicolo di Conti, of Venice, returned from his oriental travels in 1449 and communicated to the secretary of Pope Eugenius IV a much more consistent and satisfactory account of what he had seen than any of his predecessors. After giving a description of the cinnamon and other productions of Zeilam he says he sailed to a great island named Sumatra, called by the ancients Taprobana, where he was detained one year. His account of the pepper-plant, of the durian fruit, and of the extraordinary customs, now well ascertained, of the Batech or Batta people, prove him to have been an intelligent observer. ITINERARIUM PORTUGALLENSIUM. A small work entitled Itinerarium Portugallensium, printed at Milan in 1508, after speaking of the island of Sayla, says that to the eastward of this there is another called Samotra, which we name Taprobane, distant from the city of Calechut about three months' voyage. The information appears to have been obtained from an Indian of Cranganore, on the coast of Malabar, who visited Lisbon in 1501. LUDOVICO BARTHEMA. Ludovico Barthema (Vartoma) of Bologna, began his travels in 1503, and in 1505, after visiting Malacca, which he describes as being the resort of a greater quantity of shipping than any other port in the world, passed over to Pedir in Sumatra, which he concludes to be Taprobane. The productions of the island, he says, were chiefly exported to Catai or China. From Sumatra he proceeded to Banda and the Moluccas, from thence returned by Java and Malacca to the west of India, and arrived at Lisbon in 1508. ODOARDUS BARBOSA. Odoardus Barbosa, of Lisbon, who concluded the journal of his voyage in 1516, speaks with much precision of Sumatra. He enumerates many places, both upon the coast and inland, by the names they now bear, among which he considers Pedir as the principal, distinguishes between the Mahometan inhabitants of the coast and the Pagans of the inland country; and mentions the extensive trade carried on by the former with Cambaia in the west of India. ANTONIO PIGAFETTA. In the account given by Antonio Pigafetta, the companion of Ferdinand Magellan, of the famous circumnavigatory voyage performed by the Spaniards in the years 1519 to 1522, it is stated that, from their apprehension of falling in with Portuguese ships, they pursued their westerly route from the island of Timor, by the Laut Kidol, or southern ocean, leaving on their right hand the island of Zamatra (written in another part of the journal, Somatra) or Taprobana of the ancients. Mention is also made of a native of that island being on board, who served them usefully as an interpreter in many of the places they visited; and we are here furnished with the earliest specimen of the Malayan language. PORTUGUESE EXPEDITIONS. Previously however to this Spanish navigation of the Indian seas, by the way of South America, the expeditions of the Portuguese round the Cape of Good Hope had rendered the island well known, both in regard to its local circumstances and the manners of its inhabitants. EMANUEL KING OF PORTUGAL. In a letter from Emanuel King of Portugal to Pope Leo the Tenth, dated in 1513, he speaks of the discovery of Zamatra by his subjects; and the writings of Juan de Barros, Castaneda, Osorius, and Maffaeus, detail the operations of Diogo Lopez de Sequeira at Pedir and Pase in 1509, and those of the great Alfonso de Alboquerque at the same places, in 1511, immediately before his attack upon Malacca. Debarros also enumerates the names of twenty of the principal places of the island with considerable precision, and observes that the peninsula or chersonesus had the epithet of aurea given to it on account of the abundance of gold carried thither from Monancabo and Barros, countries in the island of C(cedilla)amatra. Having thus noticed what has been written by persons who actually visited this part of India at an early period, or published from their oral communication by contemporaries, it will not be thought necessary to multiply authorities by quoting the works of subsequent commentators and geographers, who must have formed their judgments from the same original materials. NAME OF SUMATRA. With respect to the name of Sumatra, we perceive that it was unknown both to the Arabian travellers and to Marco Polo, who indeed was not likely to acquire it from the savage natives with whom he had intercourse. The appellation of Java minor which he gives to the island seems to have been quite arbitrary, and not grounded upon any authority, European or Oriental, unless we can suppose that he had determined it to be the I'azadith nesos of Ptolemy; but from the other parts of his relation it does not appear that he was acquainted with the work of that great geographer, nor could he have used it with any practical advantage. At all events it could not have led him to the distinction of a greater and a lesser Java; and we may rather conclude that, having visited (or heard of) the great island properly so called, and not being able to learn the real name of another, which from its situation and size might well be regarded as a sister island, he applied the same to both, with the relative epithets of major and minor. That Ptolemy's Jaba-dib or dio was intended, however vaguely, for the island of Java, cannot be doubted. It must have been known to the Arabian merchants, and he was indefatigable in his inquiries; but at the same time that they communicated the name they might be ill qualified to describe its geographical position. In the rude narrative of Odoricus we perceive the first approach to the modern name in the word Sumoltra. Those who immediately followed him write it with a slight, and often inconsistent, variation in the orthography, Sumotra, Samotra, Zamatra, and Sumatra. But none of these travellers inform us from whom they learned it; whether from the natives or from persons who had been in the habits of frequenting it from the continent of India; which latter I think the more probable. Reland, an able oriental scholar, who directed his attention to the languages of the islands, says it obtains its appellation from a certain high land called Samadra, which he supposes to signify in the language of the country a large ant; but in fact there is not any spot so named; and although there is some resemblance between semut, the word for an ant, and the name in question, the etymology is quite fanciful. Others have imagined that they find an easy derivation in the word samatra, to be met with in some Spanish or Portuguese dictionaries, as signifying a sudden storm of wind and rain, and from whence our seamen may have borrowed the expression; but it is evident that the order of derivation is here reversed, and that the phrase is taken from the name of the land in the neighbourhood of which such squalls prevail. In a Persian work of the year 1611 the name of Shamatrah occurs as one of those places where the Portuguese had established themselves; and in some very modern Malayan correspondence I find the word Samantara employed (along with another more usual, which will be hereafter mentioned) to designate this island. PROBABLY DERIVED FROM THE SANSKRIT. These, it is true, are not entirely free from the suspicion of having found their way to the Persians and Malays through the medium of European intercourse; but to a person who is conversant with the languages of the continent of India it must be obvious that the name, however written, bears a strong resemblance to words in the Sanskrit language: nor should this appear extraordinary when we consider (what is now fully admitted) that a large proportion of the Malayan is derived from that source, and that the names of many places in this and the neighbouring countries (such as Indrapura and Indragiri in Sumatra, Singapura at the extremity of the peninsula, and Sukapura and the mountain of Maha-meru in Java) are indisputably of Hindu origin. It is not my intention however to assign a precise etymology; but in order to show the general analogy to known Sanskrit terms it may be allowed to instance Samuder, the ancient name of the capital of the Carnatik, afterwards called Bider; Samudra-duta, which occurs in the Hetopadesa, as signifying the ambassador of the sea; the compound formed of su, good, and matra, measure; and more especially the word samantara, which implying a boundary, intermediate, or what lies between, might be thought to apply to the peculiar situation of an island intermediate between two oceans and two straits. NOT ENTIRELY UNKNOWN TO THE NATIVES. When on a former occasion it was asserted (and with too much confidence) that the name of Sumatra is unknown to the natives, who are ignorant of its being an island, and have no general name for it, the expression ought to have been confined to those natives with whom I had an opportunity of conversing, in the southern part of the west coast, where much genuineness of manners prevails, with little of the spirit of commercial enterprise or communication with other countries. But even in situations more favourable for acquiring knowledge I believe it will be found that the inhabitants of very large islands, and especially if surrounded by smaller ones, are accustomed to consider their own as terra firma, and to look to no other geographical distinction than that of the district or nation to which they belong. Accordingly we find that the more general names have commonly been given by foreigners, and, as the Arabians chose to call this island Al-rami or Lameri, so the Hindus appear to have named it Sumatra or Samantara. MALAYAN NAMES FOR THE ISLAND. Since that period however, having become much better acquainted with Malayan literature, and perused the writings of various parts of the peninsula and islands where the language is spoken and cultivated, I am enabled to say that Sumatra is well known amongst the eastern people and the better-informed of the natives themselves by the two names of Indalas and Pulo percha (or in the southern dialect Pritcho). INDALAS. Of the meaning or analogies of the former, which seems to have been applied to it chiefly by the neighbouring people of Java, I have not any conjecture, and only observe its resemblance (doubtless accidental) to the Arabian denomination of Spain or Andalusia. In one passage I find the Straits of Malacca termed the sea of Indalas, over which, we are gravely told, a bridge was thrown by Alexander the Great. PERCHA. The latter and more common name is from a Malayan word signifying fragments or tatters, and the application is whimsically explained by the condition of the sails of the vessel in which the island was circumnavigated for the first time; but it may with more plausibility be supposed to allude to the broken or intersected land for which the eastern coast is so remarkable. It will indeed be seen in the map that in the vicinity of what are called Rupat's Straits there is a particular place of this description named Pulo Percha, or the Broken Islands. As to the appellation of Pulo Ber-api, or Volcano Island, which has also occurred, it is too indefinite for a proper name in a region of the globe where the phenomenon is by no means rare or peculiar, and should rather be considered as a descriptive epithet. MAGNITUDE. In respect to magnitude, it ranks amongst the largest islands in the world; but its breadth throughout is determined with so little accuracy that any attempt to calculate its superficies must be liable to very considerable error. Like Great Britain it is broadest at the southern extremity, narrowing gradually to the north; and to this island it is perhaps in size more nearly allied than in shape. MOUNTAINS. A chain of mountains runs through its whole extent, the ranges being in many parts double and treble, but situated in general much nearer to the western than the opposite coast, being on the former seldom so much as twenty miles from the sea, whilst on the eastern side the extent of level country, in the broader part of the island, through which run the great rivers of Siak, Indragiri, Jambi, and Palembang, cannot be less than a hundred and fifty. The height of these mountains, though very great, is not sufficient to occasion their being covered with snow during any part of the year, as those in South America between the tropics are found to be. Mount Ophir,* or Gunong Pasaman, situated immediately under the equinoctial line, is supposed to be the highest visible from the sea, its summit being elevated thirteen thousand eight hundred and forty-two feet above that level; which is no more than two-thirds of the altitude the French astronomers have ascribed to the loftiest of the Andes, but somewhat exceeds that of the Peak of Tenerife. (*Footnote. The following is the result of observations made by Mr. Robert Nairne of the height of Mount Ophir: Height of the peak above the level of the sea, in feet: 13,842. English miles: 2.6216. Nautical miles: 2.26325. Inland, nearly: 26 nautical miles. Distance from Massang Point: 32 nautical miles. Distance at sea before the peak is sunk under the horizon: 125 nautical miles. Latitude of the peak: 0 degrees 6 minutes north. A volcano mountain, south of Ophir, is short of that in height by: 1377 feet. Inland, nearly 29 nautical miles. In order to form a comparison I subjoin the height, as computed by mathematicians, of other mountains in different parts of the world: Chimborazo, the highest of the Andes, 3220 toises or 20,633 English feet. Of this about 2400 feet from the summit are covered with eternal snow. Carazon, ascended by the French astronomers: 15,800 English feet. Peak of Tenerife. Feuille: 2270 toises or 13,265 feet. Mount Blanc, Savoy. Sr. G. Shuckburgh: 15,662. Mount Etna, Sr. G. Shuckburgh: 10,954. Between these ridges of mountains are extensive plains, considerably elevated above the surface of the maritime lands, where the air is cool; and from this advantage they are esteemed the most eligible portion of the country, are consequently the best inhabited and the most cleared from woods, which elsewhere in general throughout Sumatra cover both hills and valleys with an eternal shade. Here too are found many large and beautiful lakes that extend at intervals through the heart of the country, and facilitate much the communication between the different parts, but their dimensions, situation, or direction, are very little known, though the natives make frequent mention of them in the accounts of their journeys. Those principally spoken of are: one of great extent but unascertained situation in the Batta country; one in the Korinchi country, lately visited by Mr. C. Campbel; and another in the Lampong country, extending towards Pasummah, navigated by boats of a large class with sails, and requires a day and night to effect the passage across it; which may be the case in the rainy season, as that part of the island through which the Tulang Bawang River flows is subject to extensive inundations, causing it to communicate with the river of the Palembang. In a journey made many years since by a son of the sultan of the latter place, to visit the English resident at Croee, he is said to have proceeded by the way of that lake. It is much to be regretted that the situation of so important a feature in the geography of the island should be at this day the subject of uncertain conjecture. WATERFALLS. Waterfalls and cascades are not uncommon, as may be supposed in a country of so uneven a surface as that of the western coast. A remarkable one descends from the north side of Mount Pugong. The island of Mansalar, lying off and affording shelter to the bay of Tappanuli, presents to the view a fall of very striking appearance, the reservoir of which the natives assert (in their fondness for the marvellous) to be a huge shell of the species called kima (Chama gigas) found in great quantities in that bay, as well as at New Guinea and other parts of the east.* At the bottom of this fall ships occasionally take in their water without being under the necessity of landing their casks; but such attempts are liable to extreme hazard. A ship from England (the Elgin) attracted by the appearance from sea of a small but beautiful cascade descending perpendicularly from the steep cliff, that, like an immense rampart, lines the seashore near Manna, sent a boat in order to procure fresh water; but she was lost in the surf, and the crew drowned. (*Footnote. The largest I have seen was brought from Tappanuli by Mr. James Moore of Arno's Vale in the north of Ireland. It is 3 feet 3 1/2 inches in its longest diameter, and 2 feet 1 1/4 inches across. One of the methods of taking them in deep water is by thrusting a long bamboo between the valves as they lie open, when, by the immediate closure which follows, they are made fast. The substance of the shell is perfectly white, several inches thick, is worked by the natives into arm-rings, and in the hands of our artists is found to take a polish equal to the finest statuary marble.) RIVERS. No country in the world is better supplied with water than the western coast of the island. Springs are found wherever they are sought for, and the rivers are innumerable; but they are in general too small and rapid for the purpose of navigation. The vicinity of the mountains to that side of the island occasions this profusion of rivulets, and at the same time the imperfections that attend them, by not allowing them space to accumulate to any considerable size. On the eastern coast the distance of the range of hills not only affords a larger scope for the course of the rivers before they disembogue, presents a greater surface for the receptacle of rain and vapours, and enables them to unite a greater number of subsidiary streams, but also renders the flux more steady and uniform by the extent of level space than where the torrent rolls more immediately from the mountains. But it is not to be understood that on the western side there are no large rivers. Kataun, Indrapura, Tabuyong, and Sinkel have a claim to that title, although inferior in size to Palembang, Jambi, Indragiri, and Siak. The latter derive also a material advantage from the shelter given to them by the peninsula of Malacca, and Borneo, Banca, and the other islands of the Archipelago, which, breaking the force of the sea, prevent the surf from forming those bars that choke the entrance of the south-western rivers, and render them impracticable to boats of any considerable draught of water. These labour too under this additional inconvenience that scarcely any except the largest run out to sea in a direct course. The continual action of the surf, more powerful than the ordinary force of the stream, throws up at their mouths a bank of sand, which in many instances has the effect of diverting their course to a direction parallel with the shore, between the cliffs and the beach, until the accumulated waters at length force their way wherever there is found the weakest resistance. In the southerly monsoon, when the surfs are usually highest, and the streams, from the dryness of the weather, least rapid, this parallel course is of the greatest extent; and Moco-moco River takes a course, at times, of two or three miles in this manner, before it mixes with the sea; but as the rivers swell with the rain they gradually remove obstructions and recover their natural channel. AIR. The heat of the air is by no means so intense as might be expected in a country occupying the middle of the torrid zone. It is more temperate than in many regions without the tropics, the thermometer, at the most sultry hour, which is about two in the afternoon, generally fluctuating between 82 and 85 degrees. I do not recollect to have ever seen it higher than 86 in the shade, at Fort Marlborough; although at Natal, in latitude 34 minutes north, it is not unfrequently at 87 and 88 degrees. At sunrise it is usually as low as 70; the sensation of cold however is much greater than this would seem to indicate, as it occasions shivering and a chattering of the teeth; doubtless from the greater relaxation of the body and openness of the pores in that climate; for the same temperature in England would be esteemed a considerable degree of warmth. These observations on the state of the air apply only to the districts near the sea-coast, where, from their comparatively low situation, and the greater compression of the atmosphere, the sun's rays operate more powerfully. Inland, as the country ascends, the degree of heat decreases rapidly, insomuch that beyond the first range of hills the inhabitants find it expedient to light fires in the morning, and continue them till the day is advanced, for the purpose of warming themselves; a practice unknown in the other parts of the island; and in the journal of Lieutenant Dare's expedition it appears that during one night's halt on the summit of a mountain, in the rainy season, he lost several of his party from the severity of the weather, whilst the thermometer was not lower than 40 degrees. To the cold also they attribute the backwardness in growth of the coconut-tree, which is sometimes twenty or thirty years in coming to perfection, and often fails to produce fruit. Situations are uniformly colder in proportion to their height above the level of the sea, unless where local circumstances, such as the neighbourhood of sandy plains, contribute to produce a contrary effect; but in Sumatra the coolness of the air is promoted by the quality of the soil, which is clayey, and the constant and strong verdure that prevails, which, by absorbing the sun's rays, prevents the effect of their reflection. The circumstance of the island being so narrow contributes also to its general temperateness, as wind directly or recently from the sea is seldom possessed of any violent degree of heat, usually acquired in passing over large tracts of land in the tropical climates. Frost, snow, and hail I believe to be unknown to the inhabitants. The hill-people in the country of Lampong speak indeed of a peculiar kind of rain that falls there, which some have supposed to be what we call sleet; but the fact is not sufficiently established. The atmosphere is in common more cloudy than in Europe, which is sensibly perceived from the infrequency of clear starlight nights. This may proceed from the greater rarefaction of the air occasioning the clouds to descend lower and become more opaque, or merely from the stronger heat exhaling from the land and sea a thicker and more plentiful vapour. The fog, called kabut by the natives, which is observed to rise every morning among the distant hills, is dense to a surprising degree; the extremities of it, even when near at hand, being perfectly defined; and it seldom is observed to disperse till about three hours after sunrise. WATERSPOUT. That extraordinary phenomenon, the waterspout, so well known to and described by navigators, frequently makes its appearance in these parts, and occasionally on shore. I had seen many at sea; but the largest and most distinct (from its proximity) that I had an opportunity of observing, presented itself to me whilst on horseback. I was so near to it that I could perceive what appeared to be an inward gyration, distinct from the volume surrounding it or body of the tube; but am aware that this might have been a deception of sight, and that it was the exterior part which actually revolved--as quiescent bodies seem to persons in quick motion, to recede in a contrary direction. Like other waterspouts it was sometimes perpendicular and sometimes curved, like the pipe of a still-head, its course tending in a direction from Bencoolen Bay across the peninsula on which the English settlement stands; but before it reached the sea on the other side it diminished by degrees, as if from want of the supplies that should be furnished by its proper element, and collected itself into the cloud from which it depended, without any consequent fall of water or destructive effect. The whole operation we may presume to be of the nature of a whirlwind, and the violent ebullition in that part of the sea to which the lower extremity of the tube points to be a corresponding effect to the agitation of the leaves or sand on shore, which in some instances are raised to a vast height; but in the formation of the waterspout the rotatory motion of the wind acts not only upon the surface of the land or sea, but also upon the overhanging cloud, and seems to draw it downwards. THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. Thunder and lightning are there so very frequent as scarcely to attract the attention of persons long resident in the country. During the north-west monsoon the explosions are extremely violent; the forked lightning shoots in all directions, and the whole sky seems on fire, whilst the ground is agitated in a degree little inferior to the motion of a slight earthquake. In the south-east monsoon the lightning is more constant, but the coruscations are less fierce or bright, and the thunder is scarcely audible. It would seem that the consequences of these awful meteors are not so fatal there as in Europe, few instances occurring of lives being lost or buildings destroyed by the explosions, although electrical conductors have never been employed. Perhaps the paucity of inhabitants in proportion to the extent of country and the unsubstantial materials of the houses may contribute to this observation. I have seen some trees, however, that have been shattered in Sumatra by the action of lightning.* (*Footnote. Since the above was written accounts have been received that a magazine at Fort Marlborough, containing four hundred barrels of powder, was fired by lightning and blown up on the 18th of March 1782.) MONSOONS. The causes which produce a successive variety of seasons in the parts of the earth without the tropics, having no relation or respect to the region of the torrid zone, a different order takes place there, and the year is distinguished into two divisions, usually called the rainy and dry monsoons or seasons, from the weather peculiar to each. In the several parts of India these monsoons are governed by various particular laws in regard to the time of their commencement, period of duration, circumstances attending their change, and direction of the prevailing wind according to the nature and situation of the lands and coasts where their influence is felt. The farther peninsula of India, where the kingdom of Siam lies, experiences at the same time the effects of opposite seasons; the western side, in the Bay of Bengal, being exposed for half the year to continual rains, whilst on the eastern side the finest weather is enjoyed; and so on the different coasts of Indostan the monsoons exert their influence alternately; the one remaining serene and undisturbed whilst the other is agitated by storms. Along the coast of Coromandel the change, or breaking up of the monsoon as it is called, is frequently attended with the most violent gales of wind. On the west coast of Sumatra, southward of the equinoctial, the south-east monsoon or dry season begins about May and slackens in September: the north-west monsoon begins about November, and the hard rains cease about March. The monsoons for the most part commence and leave off gradually there; the months of April and May, October and November generally affording weather and winds variable and uncertain. CAUSE OF THE MONSOONS. The causes of these periodical winds have been investigated by several able naturalists, whose systems, however, do not entirely correspond either in the principles laid down or in their application to the effects known to be produced in different parts of the globe. I shall summarily mention what appear to be the most evident, or probable at least, among the general laws, or inferences, which have been deduced from the examination of this subject. If the sea were perfectly uninterrupted and free from the irregular influence of lands, a perpetual easterly wind would prevail in all that space comprehended between the twenty-eighth or thirteenth degrees of north and south latitude. This is primarily occasioned by the diurnal revolution of the earth upon its axis from west to east; but whether through the operation of the sun, proceeding westward, upon the atmospheric fluid, or the rapidity of revolution of the solid body, which leaves behind it that fluid with which it is surrounded, and thereby causes it virtually to recede in a contrary direction; or whether these principles cooperate, or unequally oppose each other, as has been ingeniously contended, I shall not take upon me to decide. It is sufficient to say that such an effect appears to be the first general law of the tropical winds. Whatever may be the degree of the sun's influence upon the atmosphere in his transient diurnal course, it cannot be doubted but that, in regard to his station in the path of the ecliptic, his power is considerable. Towards that region of the air which is rarefied by the more immediate presence of the heat, the colder and denser parts will naturally flow. Consequently from about, and a few degrees beyond, the tropics, on either side, the air tends towards the equator; and, combining with the general eastern current before mentioned, produces (or would, if the surface were uniform) a north-east wind in the northern division, and a south-east in the southern; varying in the extent of its course as the sun happens to be more or less remote at the time. These are denominated the trade-winds, and are the subject of the second general observation. It is evident that, with respect to the middle space between the tropics, those parts which at one season of the year lie to the northward of the sun, are, during another, to the southward of him; and of course that an alteration of the effects last described must take place, according to the relative situation of the luminary; or in other words, that the principle which causes at one time a north-east wind to prevail at any particular spot in those latitudes must, when the circumstances are changed, occasion a south-east wind. Such may be esteemed the outline of the periodical winds, which undoubtedly depend upon the alternate course of the sun northwards and southwards; and this I state as the third general law. But although this may be conformable with experience in extensive oceans, yet, in the vicinity of continents and great islands, deviations are remarked that almost seem to overturn the principle. Along the western coast of Africa and in some parts of the Indian seas, the periodical winds, or monsoons as they are termed in the latter, blow from the west-north-west and south-west, according to the situation, extent, and nature of the nearest lands; the effect of which upon the incumbent atmosphere, when heated by the sun at those seasons in which he is vertical, is prodigious, and possibly superior to that of any other cause which contributes to the production or direction of wind. To trace the operation of this irregular principle through the several winds prevalent in India, and their periodical failures and changes, would prove an intricate but, I conceive, by no means an impossible task.* It is foreign however to my present purpose, and I shall only observe that the north-east monsoon is changed, on the western coast of Sumatra, to north-west or west-north-west by the influence of the land. During the south-east monsoon the wind is found to blow there, between that point and south. Whilst the sun continues near the equator the winds are variable, nor is their direction fixed till he has advanced several degrees towards the tropic: and this is the cause of the monsoons usually setting in, as I have observed, about May and November, instead of the equinoctial months. (*Footnote. It has been attempted, and with much ingenious reasoning, by Mr. Semeyns in the third volume of the Haerlem Transactions which have but lately fallen into my hands.) LAND AND SEA BREEZES. Thus much is sufficient with regard to the periodical winds. I shall proceed to give an account of those distinguished by the appellation of land and sea breezes, which require from me a minuter investigation, both because, as being more local, they more especially belong to my subject, and that their nature has hitherto been less particularly treated of by naturalists. In this island, as well as all other countries between the tropics of any considerable extent, the wind uniformly blows from the sea to the land for a certain number of hours in the four and twenty, and then changes and blows for about as many from the land to the sea; excepting only when the monsoon rages with remarkable violence, and even at such time the wind rarely fails to incline a few points, in compliance with the efforts of the subordinate clause, which has not power, under these circumstances, to produce an entire change. On the west coast of Sumatra the sea-breeze usually sets in, after an hour or two of calm, about ten in the forenoon, and continues till near six in the evening. About seven the land-breeze comes off, and prevails through the night till towards eight in the morning, when it gradually dies away. CAUSE OF THE LAND AND SEA-BREEZES. These depend upon the same general principle that causes and regulates all other wind. Heat acting upon air rarefies it, by which it becomes specifically lighter, and mounts upward. The denser parts of the atmosphere which surround that so rarefied, rush into the vacuity from their superior weight; endeavouring, as the laws of gravity require, to restore the equilibrium. Thus in the round buildings where the manufactory of glass is carried on, the heat of the furnace in the centre being intense, a violent current of air may be perceived to force its way in, through doors or crevices, on opposite sides of the house. As the general winds are caused by the DIRECT influence of the sun's rays upon the atmosphere, that particular deviation of the current distinguished by the name of land and sea breezes is caused by the influence of his REFLECTED rays, returned from the earth or sea on which they strike. The surface of the earth is more suddenly heated by the rays of the sun than that of the sea, from its greater density and state of rest; consequently it reflects those rays sooner and with more power: but, owing also to its density, the heat is more superficial than that imbibed by the sea, which becomes more intimately warmed by its transparency and by its motion, continually presenting a fresh surface to the sun. I shall now endeavour to apply these principles. By the time the rising sun has ascended to the height of thirty or forty degrees above the horizon the earth has acquired, and reflected on the body of air situated over it, a degree of heat sufficient to rarefy it and destroy its equilibrium; in consequence of which the body of air above the sea, not being equally, or scarcely at all, rarefied, rushes towards the land and the same causes operating so long as the sun continues above the horizon, a constant sea-breeze, or current of air from sea to land, prevails during that time. From about an hour before sunset the surface of the earth begins to lose the heat it has acquired from the more perpendicular rays. That influence of course ceases, and a calm succeeds. The warmth imparted to the sea, not so violent as that of the land but more deeply imbibed, and consequently more permanent, now acts in turn, and by the rarefaction it causes draws towards its region the land air, grown cooler, more dense, and heavier, which continues thus to flow back till the earth, by a renovation of its heat in the morning, once more obtains the ascendancy. Such is the general rule, conformable with experience, and founded, as it seems to me, in the laws of motion and the nature of things. The following observations will serve to corroborate what I have advanced, and to throw additional light on the subject for the information and guidance of any future investigator. The periodical winds which are supposed to blow during six months from the north-west and as many from the south-east rarely observe this regularity, except in the very heart of the monsoon; inclining, almost at all times, several points to seaward, and not unfrequently blowing from the south-west or in a line perpendicular to the coast. This must be attributed to the influence of that principle which causes the land and sea winds proving on these occasions more powerful than the principle of the periodical winds; which two seem here to act at right angles with each other; and as the influence of either is prevalent the winds draw towards a course perpendicular to or parallel with the line of the coast. Excepting when a squall or other sudden alteration of weather, to which these climates are particularly liable, produces an irregularity, the tendency of the land-wind at night has almost ever a correspondence with the sea-wind of the preceding or following day; not blowing in a direction immediately opposite to it (which would be the case if the former were, as some writers have supposed, merely the effect of the accumulation and redundance of the latter, without any positive cause) but forming an equal and contiguous angle, of which the coast is the common side. Thus, if the coast be conceived to run north and south, the same influence, or combination of influences, which produces a sea-wind at north-west produces a land-wind at north-east; or adapting the case to Sumatra, which lies north-west and south-east, a sea-wind at south is preceded or followed by a land-wind at east. This remark must not be taken in too strict a sense, but only as the result of general observation. If the land-wind, in the course of the night, should draw round from east to north it would be looked upon as an infallible prognostic of a west or north-west wind the next day. On this principle it is that the natives foretell the direction of the wind by the noise of the surf at night, which if heard from the northward is esteemed the forerunner of a northerly wind, and vice versa. The quarter from which the noise is heard depends upon the course of the land-wind, which brings the sound with it, and drowns it to leeward--the land-wind has a correspondence with the next day's sea-wind--and thus the divination is accounted for. The effect of the sea-wind is not perceived to the distance of more than three or four leagues from the shore in common, and for the most part it is fainter in proportion to the distance. When it first sets in it does not commence at the remoter extremity of its limits but very near the shore, and gradually extends itself farther to sea, as the day advances; probably taking the longer or shorter course as the day is more or less hot. I have frequently observed the sails of ships at the distance of four, six, or eight miles, quite becalmed, whilst a fresh sea-breeze was at the time blowing upon the shore. In an hour afterwards they have felt its effect.* (*Footnote. This observation as well as many others I have made on the subject I find corroborated in the Treatise before quoted from the Haerlem Transactions which I had not seen when the present work was first published.) Passing along the beach about six o'clock in the evening when the sea-breeze is making its final efforts, I have perceived it to blow with a considerable degree of warmth, owing to the heat the sea had by that time acquired, which would soon begin to divert the current of air towards it when it had first overcome the vis inertiae that preserves motion in a body after the impelling power has ceased to operate. I have likewise been sensible of a degree of warmth on passing, within two hours after sunset, to leeward of a lake of fresh water; which proves the assertion of water imbibing a more permanent heat than earth. In the daytime the breeze would be rendered cool in crossing the same lake. Approaching an island situated at a distance from any other land, I was struck with the appearance of the clouds about nine in the morning which then formed a perfect circle round it, the middle being a clear azure, and resembled what the painters call a glory. This I account for from the reflected rays of the sun rarefying the atmosphere immediately over the island, and equally in all parts, which caused a conflux of the neighbouring air, and with in the circumjacent clouds. These last, tending uniformly to the centre, compressed each other at a certain distance from it, and, like the stones in an arch of masonry, prevented each other's nearer approach. That island, however, does not experience the vicissitude of land and sea breezes, being too small, and too lofty, and situated in a latitude where the trade or perpetual winds prevail in their utmost force. In sandy countries, the effect of the sun's rays penetrating deeply, a more permanent heat is produced, the consequence of which should be the longer continuance of the sea-breeze in the evening; and agreeably to this supposition I have been informed that on the coast of Coromandel it seldom dies away before ten at night. I shall only add on this subject that the land-wind on Sumatra is cold, chilly, and damp; an exposure to it is therefore dangerous to the health, and sleeping in it almost certain death. SOIL. The soil of the western side of Sumatra may be spoken of generally as a stiff, reddish clay, covered with a stratum or layer of black mould, of no considerable depth. From this there springs a strong and perpetual verdure of rank grass, brushwood, or timber-trees, according as the country has remained a longer or shorter time undisturbed by the consequences of population, which, being in most places extremely thin, it follows that a great proportion of the island, and especially to the southward, is an impervious forest. UNEVENNESS OF SURFACE. Along the western coast of the island the low country, or space of land which extends from the seashore to the foot of the mountains, is intersected and rendered uneven to a surprising degree by swamps whose irregular and winding course may in some places be traced in a continual chain for many miles till they discharge themselves either into the sea, some neighbouring lake, or the fens that are so commonly found near the banks of the larger rivers and receive their overflowings in the rainy monsoons. The spots of land which these swamps encompass become so many islands and peninsulas, sometimes flat at top, and often mere ridges; having in some places a gentle declivity, and in others descending almost perpendicularly to the depth of a hundred feet. In few parts of the country of Bencoolen, or of the northern districts adjacent to it, could a tolerably level space of four hundred yards square be marked out. I have often, from an elevated situation, where a wider range was subjected to the eye, surveyed with admiration the uncommon face which nature assumes, and made inquiries and attended to conjectures on the causes of these inequalities. Some choose to attribute them to the successive concussions of earthquakes through a course of centuries. But they do not seem to be the effect of such a cause. There are no abrupt fissures; the hollows and swellings are for the most part smooth and regularly sloping so as to exhibit not unfrequently the appearance of an amphitheatre, and they are clothed with verdure from the summit to the edge of the swamp. From this latter circumstance it is also evident that they are not, as others suppose, occasioned by the falls of heavy rains that deluge the country for one half of the year; which is likewise to be inferred from many of them having no apparent outlet and commencing where no torrent could be conceived to operate. The most summary way of accounting for this extraordinary unevenness of surface were to conclude that, in the original construction of our globe, Sumatra was thus formed by the same hand which spread out the sandy plains of Arabia, and raised up the alps and Andes beyond the region of the clouds. But this is a mode of solution which, if generally adopted, would become an insuperable bar to all progress in natural knowledge by damping curiosity and restraining research. Nature, we know from sufficient experience, is not only turned from her original course by the industry of man, but also sometimes checks and crosses her own career. What has happened in some instances it is not unfair to suppose may happen in others; nor is it presumption to trace the intermediate causes of events which are themselves derived from one first, universal, and eternal principle. CAUSES OF THIS INEQUALITY. To me it would seem that the springs of water with which these parts of the island abound in an uncommon degree operate directly, though obscurely, to the producing this irregularity of the surface of the earth. They derive their number and an extraordinary portion of activity from the loftiness of the ranges of mountains that occupy the interior country, and intercept and collect the floating vapours. Precipitated into rain at such a hight, the water acquires in its descent through the fissures or pores of these mountains a considerable force which exerts itself in every direction, lateral and perpendicular, to procure a vent. The existence of these copious springs is proved in the facility with which wells are everywhere sunk; requiring no choice of ground but as it may respect the convenience of the proprietor; all situations, whether high or low, being prodigal of this valuable element. Where the approaches of the sea have rendered the cliffs abrupt, innumerable rills, or rather a continued moisture, is seen to ooze through and trickle down the steep. Where on the contrary the sea has retired and thrown up banks of sand in its retreat I have remarked the streams of water, at a certain level and commonly between the boundaries of the tide, effecting their passage through the loose and feeble barrier opposed to them. In short, every part of the low country is pregnant with springs that labour for the birth; and these continual struggles, this violent activity of subterraneous waters, must gradually undermine the plains above. The earth is imperceptibly excavated, the surface settles in, and hence the inequalities we speak of. The operation is slow but unremitting, and, I conceive, fully capable of the effect. MINERAL PRODUCTIONS. The earth of Sumatra is rich in minerals and other fossil productions. GOLD. No country has been more famous in all ages for gold, and, though the sources from whence it is drawn may be supposed in some measure exhausted by the avarice and industry of ages, yet at this day the quantity procured is very considerable, and doubtless might be much increased were the simple labour of the gatherer assisted by a knowledge of the arts of mineralogy. COPPER, IRON, TIN, SULPHUR. There are also mines of copper, iron, and tin. Sulphur is gathered in large quantities about the numerous volcanoes. SALTPETRE. Saltpetre the natives procure by a process of their own from the earth which is found impregnated with it; chiefly in extensive caves that have been, from the beginning of time, the haunt of a certain species of birds, of whose dung the soil is formed. COAL. Coal, mostly washed down by the floods, is collected in several parts, particularly at Kataun, Ayer-rammi, and Bencoolen. It is light and not esteemed very good; but I am informed that this is the case with all coal found near the surface of the earth, and, as the veins are observed to run in an inclined direction until the pits have some depth, the fossil must be of an indifferent quality. The little island of Pisang, near the foot of Mount Pugong, was supposed to be chiefly a bed of rock crystal, but upon examination of specimens taken from thence they proved to be calcareous spar. HOT SPRINGS. Mineral and hot springs have been discovered in many districts. In taste the waters mostly resemble those of Harrowgate, being nauseous to the palate. EARTH OIL. The oleum terrae, or earth oil, used chiefly as a preservative against the destructive ravages of the white-ants, is collected at Ipu and elsewhere.* (*Footnote. The fountain of Naphtha or liquid balsam found at Pedir, so much celebrated by the Portuguese writers, is doubtless this oleum terrae, or meniak tanah, as it is called by the Malays.) SOFT ROCK. There is scarcely any species of hard rock to be met with in the low parts of the island near the seashore. Besides the ledges of coral, which are covered by the tide, that which generally prevails is the napal, as it is called by the inhabitants, forming the basis of the red cliffs, and not infrequently the beds of the rivers. Though this napal has the appearance of rock it possesses in fact so little solidity that it is difficult to pronounce whether it be a soft stone or only an indurated clay. The surface of it becomes smooth and glossy by a slight attrition, and to the touch resembles soap, which is its most striking characteristic; but it is not soluble in water and makes no effervescence with acids. Its colour is either grey, brown, or red, according to the nature of the earth that prevails in its composition. The red napal has by much the smallest proportion of sand, and seems to possess all the qualities of the steatite or soap-earth found in Cornwall and other countries. The specimens of stone which I brought from the hills in the neighbourhood of Bencoolen were pronounced by some mineralogists, to whom I showed them at the time, to be granite; but upon more particular examination they appear to be a species of trap, consisting principally of feldspar and hornblende, of a greyish colour and nearly similar to the mountain stone of North Wales. PETRIFACTION. Where the encroachments of the sea have undermined the land the cliffs are left abrupt and naked, in some places to a very considerable height. In these many curious fossils are discovered, such as petrified wood, and seashells of various sorts. Hypotheses on this subject have been so ably supported and so powerfully attacked that I shall not presume to intrude myself in the lists. I shall only observe that, being so near the sea, many would hesitate to allow such discoveries to be of any weight in proving a violent alteration to have taken place in the surface of the terraqueous globe; whilst, on the other hand, it is unaccountable how, in the common course of natural events, such extraneous matter should come to be lodged in strata at the height perhaps of fifty feet above the level of the water, and as many below the surface of the land. COLOURED EARTHS. Here are likewise found various species of earths which might be applied to valuable purposes, as painters' colours, and otherwise. The most common are the yellow and red, probably ochres, and the white, which answers the description of the milenum of the ancients. VOLCANOES. There are a number of volcano mountains in this, as in almost all the other islands of the eastern Archipelago. They are called in the Malay language gunong-api, or more correctly, gunong ber-api. Lava has been seen to flow from a considerable one near Priamang; but I have never heard of its causing any other damage than the burning of woods. This however may be owing to the thinness of population, which does not render it necessary for the inhabitants to settle in a situation that exposes them to danger of this kind. The only volcano I had an opportunity of observing opened in the side of a mountain, about twenty miles inland of Bencoolen, one-fourth way from its top, as nearly as I can judge. It scarcely ever failed to emit smoke; but the column was only visible for two or three hours in the morning, seldom rising and preserving its form, above the upper edge of the hill, which is not of a conical shape but extending with a gradual slope. EARTHQUAKES. The high trees with which the country thereabout is covered, prevent the crater from being discernible at a distance; and this proves that the spot is not considerably raised or otherwise affected by the earthquakes which are very frequently felt there. Sometimes it has emitted smoke upon these occasions, and in other instances not. Yet during a smart earthquake which happened a few years before my arrival it was remarked to send forth flame, which it is rarely known to do.* The apprehension of the European inhabitants however is rather more excited when it continues any length of time without a tendency to an eruption, as they conceive it to be the vent by which the inflammable matter escapes that would otherwise produce these commotions of the earth. Comparatively with the descriptions I have read of earthquakes in South America, Calabria, and other countries, those which happen in Sumatra are generally very slight; and the usual manner of building renders them but little formidable to the natives. (*Footnote. Some gentlemen who deny the fact of its having at any time emitted flame, conjecture that what exhibits the appearance of smoke is more probably vapour arising from a considerable hot spring. The natives speak of it as a volcano.) REMARKABLE EFFECTS OF AN EARTHQUAKE. The most severe that I have known was chiefly experienced in the district of Manna in the year 1770. A village was destroyed by the houses falling down and taking fire, and several lives were lost.* The ground was in one place rent a quarter of a mile, the width of two fathoms, and depth of four or five. A bituminous matter is described to have swelled over the sides of the cavity, and the earth for a long time after the shocks was observed to contract and dilate alternately. Many parts of the hills far inland could be distinguished to have given way, and a consequence of this was that during three weeks Manna River was so much impregnated with particles of clay that the natives could not bathe in it. At this time was formed near to the mouth of Padang Guchi, a neighbouring river south of the former, a large plain, seven miles long and half a mile broad; where there had been before only a narrow beach. The quantity of earth brought down on this occasion was so considerable that the hill upon which the English resident's house stands appears, from indubitable marks, less elevated by fifteen feet than it was before the event. (*Footnote. I am informed that in 1763 an entire village was swallowed up by an earthquake in Pulo Nias, one of the islands which lie off the western coast of Sumatra. In July or August of the same year a severe one was felt in Bengal.) Earthquakes have been remarked by some to happen usually upon sudden changes of weather, and particularly after violent heats; but I do not vouch this upon my own experience, which has been pretty ample. They are preceded by a low rumbling noise like distant thunder. The domestic cattle and fowls are sensible of the preternatural motion, and seem much alarmed; the latter making the cry they are wont to do on the approach of birds of prey. Houses situated on a low sandy soil are least affected, and those which stand on distinct hills suffer most from the shocks because the further removed from the centre of motion the greater the agitation; and the loose contexture of the one foundation, making less resistance than the solidity of the other, subjects the building to less violence. Ships at anchor in the road, though several miles distant from the shore, are strongly sensible of the concussion. NEW LAND FORMED. Besides the new land formed by the convulsions above described, the sea by a gradual recess in some parts produces the same effect. Many instances of this kind, of no considerable extent however have been observed within the memory of persons now living. But it would seem to me that that large tract of land called Pulo Point, forming the bay of the name, near to Silebar, with much of the adjacent country has thus been left by the withdrawing or thrown up by the motion of the sea. Perhaps the point may have been at first an island (from whence its appellation of Pulo) and the parts more inland gradually united to it.* Various circumstances tend to corroborate such an opinion, and to evince the probability that this was not an original portion of the main but new, half-formed land. All the swamps and marshy grounds that lie within the beach, and near the extremity there are little else, are known, in consequence of repeated surveys, to be lower than the level of high-water; the bank of sand alone preventing an inundation. The country is not only quite free from hills or inequalities of any kind, but has scarcely a visible slope. Silebar River, which empties itself into Pulo Bay, is totally unlike those in other parts of the island. The motion of its stream is hardly perceptible; it is never affected by floods; its course is marked out, not by banks covered with ancient and venerable woods but by rows of mangroves and other aquatics springing from the ooze, and perfectly regular. Some miles from the mouth it opens into a beautiful and extensive lake, diversified with small islands, flat, and verdant with rushes only. The point of Pulo is covered with the arau tree (casuarina) or bastard-pine, as some have called it, which never grows but in the seasand and rises fast. (*Footnote. Since I formed this conjecture I have been told that such a tradition of no very ancient date prevails amongst the inhabitants.) ENCROACHMENT OF THE SEA. None such are found toward Sungei-Lamo and the rest of the shore northward of Marlborough Point, where, on the contrary, you perceive the effects of continual depredations by the ocean. The old forest trees are there yearly undermined and, falling, obstruct the traveller; whilst about Pulo the arau-trees are continually springing up faster than they can be cut down or otherwise destroyed. Nature will not readily be forced from her course. The last time I visited that part there was a beautiful rising grove of these trees, establishing a possession in their proper soil. The country, as well immediately here about as to a considerable distance inland, is an entire bed of sand without any mixture of clay or mould, which I know to have been in vain sought for many miles up the neighbouring rivers. To the northward of Padang there is a plain which has evidently been, in former times, a bay. Traces of a shelving beach are there distinguishable at the distance of one hundred and fifty yards from the present boundary of the sea. But upon what hypothesis can it be accounted for that the sea should commit depredations on the northern coast, of which there are the most evident tokens as high up at least as Ipu, and probably to Indrapura, where the shelter of the neighbouring islands may put a stop to them, and that it should restore the land to the southward in the manner I have described? I am aware that according to the general motion of the tides from east to west this coast ought to receive a continual accession proportioned to the loss which others, exposed to the direction of this motion, must and do sustain; and it is likely that it does gain upon the whole. But the nature of my work obliges me to be more attentive to effects than causes, and to record facts though they should clash with systems the most just in theory, and most respectable in point of authority. ISLANDS NEAR THE WEST COAST. The chain of islands which lie parallel with the west coast of Sumatra may probably have once formed a part of the main and been separated from it, either by some violent effort of nature, or the gradual attrition of the sea. I should scarcely introduce the mention of this apparently vague surmise but that a circumstance presents itself on the coast which affords some stronger colour of proof than can be usually obtained in such instances. In many places, and particularly about Pally, we observe detached pieces of land standing singly, as islands, at the distance of one or two hundred yards from the shore, which were headlands of points running out into the sea within the remembrance of the inhabitants. The tops continue covered with trees or shrubs; but the sides are bare, abrupt, and perpendicular. The progress of insulation here is obvious and incontrovertible, and why may not larger islands, at a greater distance, have been formed in the revolution of ages by the same accidents? The probability is heightened by the direction of the islands Nias, Batu, Mantawei, Pagi, Mego, etc., the similarity of the rock, soil, and productions, and the regularity of soundings between them and the main, whilst without them the depth is unfathomable. CORAL ROCKS. Where the shore is flat or shelving the coast of Sumatra, as of all other tropical islands, is defended from the attacks of the sea by a reef or ledge of coral rock on which the surfs exert their violence without further effect than that of keeping its surface even, and reducing to powder those beautiful excrescences and ramifications which have been so much the object of the naturalist's curiosity, and which some ingenious men who have analysed them contend to be the work of insects. The coral powder is in particular places accumulated on the shore in great quantities, and appears, when not closely inspected, like a fine white sand. SURF. The surf (a word not to be found, I believe, in our dictionaries) is used in India, and by navigators in general, to express a peculiar swell and breaking of the sea upon the shore; the phenomena of which not having been hitherto much adverted to by writers I shall be the more circumstantial in my description of them. The surf forms sometimes but a single range along the shore. At other times there is a succession of two, three, four, or more, behind each other, extending perhaps half a mile out to sea. The number of ranges is generally in proportion to the height and violence of the surf. The surf begins to assume its form at some distance from the place where it breaks, gradually accumulating as it moves forward till it gains a height, in common, of fifteen to twenty feet,* when it overhangs at top and falls like a cascade, nearly perpendicular, involving itself as it descends. The noise made by the fall is prodigious, and during the stillness of the night may be heard many miles up the country. (*Footnote. It may be presumed that in this estimation of its height I was considerably deceived.) Though in the rising and formation of the surf the water seems to have a quick progressive motion towards the land, yet a light body on the surface is not carried forward, but, on the contrary, if the tide is ebbing, will recede from the shore; from which it would follow that the motion is only propagated in the water, like sound in air, and not the mass of water protruded. A similar species of motion is observed on shaking at one end a long cord held moderately slack, which is expressed by the word undulation. I have sometimes remarked however that a body which sinks deep and takes hold of the water appears to move towards shore with the course of the surf, as is perceptible in a boat landing which seems to shoot swiftly forward on the top of the swell; though probably it is only after having reached the summit, and may owe its velocity to its own weight in the descent. Countries where the surfs prevail require boats of a peculiar construction, and the art of managing them demands the experience of a man's life. All European boats are more or less unfit, and seldom fail to occasion the sacrifice of the people on board them, in the imprudent attempts that are sometimes made to land with them on the open coast. The natives of Coromandel are remarkably expert in the management of their craft; but it is to be observed that the intervals between the breaking of the surfs are usually on that coast much longer than on the coast of Sumatra. The force of the surf is extremely great. I have known it to overset a country vessel in such a manner that the top of the mast has stuck in the sand, and the lower end made its appearance through her bottom. Pieces of cloth have been taken up from a wreck, twisted and rent by its involved motion. In some places the surfs are usually greater at high, and in others at low, water; but I believe they are uniformly more violent during the spring-tides. CONSIDERATIONS RESPECTING THE CAUSE OF THE SURF. I shall proceed to inquire into the efficient cause of the surfs. The winds have doubtless a strong relation to them. If the air was in all places of equal density, and not liable to any motion, I suppose the water would also remain perfectly at rest and its surface even; abstracting from the general course of the tides and the partial irregularities occasioned by the influx of rivers. The current of the air impels the water and causes a swell, which is the regular rising and subsiding of the waves. This rise and fall is similar to the vibrations of a pendulum and subject to like laws. When a wave is at its height it descends by the force of gravity, and the momentum acquired in descending impels the neighbouring particles, which in their turn rise and impel others, and thus form a succession of waves. This is the case in the open sea; but when the swell approaches the shore and the depth of water is not in proportion to the size of the swell the subsiding wave, instead of pressing on a body of water, which might rise in equal quantity, presses on the ground, whose reaction causes it to rush on in that manner which we call a surf. Some think that the peculiar form of it may be plainly accounted for from the shallowness and shelving of the beach. When a swell draws near to such a beach the lower parts of the water, meeting first with obstruction from the bottom, stand still, whilst the higher parts respectively move onward, by which a rolling and involved motion is produced that is augmented by the return of the preceding swell. I object that this solution is founded on the supposition of an actual progressive motion of the body of water in forming a surf; and, that certainly not being the fact, it seems deficient. The only real progression of the water is occasioned by the perpendicular fall, after the breaking of the surf, when from its weight it foams on to a greater or less distance in proportion to the height from which it fell and the slope of the shore. That the surfs are not, like common waves, the immediate effect of the wind, is evident from this, that the highest and most violent often happen when there is the least wind and vice versa. And sometimes the surfs will continue with an equal degree of violence during a variety of weather. On the west coast of Sumatra the highest are experienced during the south-east monsoon, which is never attended with such gales of wind as the north-west. The motion of the surf is not observed to follow the course of the wind, but often the contrary; and when it blows hard from the land the spray of the sea may be seen to fly in a direction opposite to the body of it, though the wind has been for many hours in the same point. Are the surfs the effect of gales of wind at sea, which do not happen to extend to the shore but cause a violent agitation throughout a considerable tract of the waters, which motion, communicating with less distant parts, and meeting at length with resistance from the shore, occasions the sea to swell and break in the manner described? To this I object that there seems no regular correspondence between their magnitude and the apparent agitation of the water without them: that gales of wind, except at particular periods, are very unfrequent in the Indian seas, where the navigation is well known to be remarkably safe, whilst the surfs are almost continual; and that gales are not found to produce this effect in other extensive oceans. The west coast of Ireland borders a sea nearly as extensive and much more wild than the coast of Sumatra, and yet there, though when it blows hard the swell on the shore is high and dangerous, is there nothing that resembles the surfs of India. PROBABLE CAUSE OF THE SURF. These, so general in the tropical latitudes, are, upon the most probable hypothesis I have been able to form, after long observation and much thought and inquiry, the consequence of the trade or perpetual winds which prevail at a distance from shore between the parallels of thirty degrees north and south, whose uniform and invariable action causes a long and constant swell, that exists even in the calmest weather, about the line, towards which its direction tends from either side. This swell or libration of the sea is so prodigiously long, and the sensible effect of its height, of course, so much diminished, that it is not often attended to; the gradual slope engrossing almost the whole horizon when the eye is not very much elevated above its surface: but persons who have sailed in those parts may recollect that, even when the sea is apparently the most still and level, a boat or other object at a distance from the ship will be hidden from the sight of one looking towards it from the lower deck for the space of minutes together. This swell, when a squall happens or the wind freshens up, will for a time have other subsidiary waves on the extent of its surface, breaking often in a direction contrary to it, and which will again subside as a calm returns without having produced on it any perceptible effect. Sumatra, though not continually exposed to the south-east trade-wind, is not so distant but that its influence may be presumed to extend to it, and accordingly at Pulo Pisang, near the southern extremity of the island, a constant southerly sea is observed even after a hard north-west wind. This incessant and powerful swell rolling in from an ocean, open even to the pole, seems an agent adequate to the prodigious effects produced on the coast; whilst its very size contributes to its being overlooked. It reconciles almost all the difficulties which the phenomena seem to present, and in particular it accounts for the decrease of the surf during the north-west monsoon, the local wind then counteracting the operation of the general one; and it is corroborated by an observation I have made that the surfs on the Sumatran coast ever begin to break at their southern extreme, the motion of the swell not being perpendicular to the direction of the shore. This manner of explaining their origin seems to carry much reason with it; but there occurs to me one objection which I cannot get over, and which a regard to truth obliges me to state. The trade-winds are remarkably steady and uniform, and the swell generated by them is the same. The surfs are much the reverse, seldom persevering for two days in the same degree of violence; often mountains high in the morning and nearly subsided by night. How comes a uniform cause to produce effects so unsteady, unless by the intervention of secondary causes, whose nature and operation we are unacquainted with? It is clear to me that the surfs as above described are peculiar to those climates which lie within the remoter limits of the trade-winds, though in higher latitudes large swells and irregular breakings of the sea are to be met with after boisterous weather. Possibly the following causes may be judged to conspire, with that I have already specified, towards occasioning this distinction. The former region being exposed to the immediate influence of the two great luminaries, the water, from their direct impulse, is liable to more violent agitation than nearer the poles where their power is felt only by indirect communication. The equatorial parts of the earth performing their diurnal revolution with greater velocity than the rest, a larger circle being described in the same time, the waters thereabout, from the stronger centrifugal force, may be supposed to feel less restraint from the sluggish principle of matter; to have less gravity; and therefore to be more obedient to external impulses of every kind, whether from the winds or any other cause. TIDES. The spring-tides on the west coast of Sumatra are estimated to rise in general no more than four feet, owing to its open, unconfined situation, which prevents any accumulation of the tide, as is the case in narrow seas. It is always high-water there when the moon is in the horizon, and consequently at six o'clock nearly, on the days of conjunction and opposition throughout the year, in parts not far remote from the equator.* This, according to Newton's theory, is about three hours later than the uninterrupted course of nature, owing to the obvious impediment the waters meet with in revolving from the eastward. (*Footnote. Owing to this uniformity it becomes an easy matter for the natives to ascertain the height of the tide at any hour that the moon is visible. Whilst she appears to ascend the water falls and vice versa; the lowest of the ebb happening when she is in her meridian. The vulgar rule for calculating the tides is rendered also to Europeans more simple and practical from the same cause. There only needs to add together the epact, number of the month, and day of the month; the sum of which, if under thirty, gives the moon's age--the excess, if over. Allow forty-eight minutes for each day or, which is the same, take four-fifths of the age, and it will give you the number of hours after six o'clock at which high-water happens. A readiness at this calculation is particularly useful in a country where the sea-beach is the general road for travelling.) CHAPTER 2. DISTINCTION OF INHABITANTS. REJANGS CHOSEN FOR GENERAL DESCRIPTION. PERSONS AND COMPLEXION. CLOTHING AND ORNAMENTS. GENERAL ACCOUNT OF THE INHABITANTS. Having exhibited a general view of the island as it is in the hands of nature, I shall now proceed to a description of the people who inhabit and cultivate it, and shall endeavour to distinguish the several species or classes of them in such a manner as may best tend to perspicuity, and to furnish clear ideas of the matter. VARIOUS MODES OF DIVISION. The most obvious division, and which has been usually made by the writers of voyages, is that of Mahometan inhabitants of the sea-coast, and Pagans of the inland country. This division, though not without its degree of propriety, is vague and imperfect; not only because each description of people differ considerably among themselves, but that the inland inhabitants are, in some places, Mahometans, and those of the coast, in others, what they term Pagans. It is not unusual with persons who have not resided in this part of the East to call the inhabitants of the islands indiscriminately by the name of Malays. This is a more considerable error, and productive of greater confusion than the former. By attempting to reduce things to heads too general we defeat the very end we propose to ourselves in defining them at all: we create obscurity where we wish to throw light. On the other hand, to attempt enumerating and distinguishing the variety, almost endless, of petty sovereignties and nations into which this island is divided, many of which differ nothing in person or manners from their neighbours, would be a task both insurmountable and useless. I shall aim at steering a middle course, and accordingly shall treat of the inhabitants of Sumatra under the following summary distinctions, taking occasion as it may offer to mention the principal subdivisions. And first it is proper to distinguish the empire of Menangkabau and the Malays; in the next place the Achinese; then the Battas; the Rejangs; and next to them the people of Lampong.* (*Footnote. In the course of my inquiries amongst the natives concerning the aborigines of the island I have been informed of two different species of people dispersed in the woods and avoiding all communication with the other inhabitants. These they call Orang Kubu and Orang Gugu. The former are said to be pretty numerous, especially in that part of the country which lies between Palembang and Jambi. Some have at times been caught and kept as slaves in Labun; and a man of that place is now married to a tolerably handsome Kubu girl who was carried off by a party that discovered their huts. They have a language quite peculiar to themselves, and they eat promiscuously whatever the woods afford, as deer, elephant, rhinoceros, wild hog, snakes, or monkeys. The Gugu are much scarcer than these, differing in little but the use of speech from the Orang Utan of Borneo; their bodies being covered with long hair. There have not been above two or three instances of their being met with by the people of Labun (from whom my information is derived) and one of these was entrapped many years ago in much the same manner as the carpenter in Pilpay's Fables caught the monkey. He had children by a Labun woman which also were more hairy than the common race; but the third generation are not to be distinguished from others. The reader will bestow what measure of faith he thinks due to this relation, the veracity of which I do not pretend to vouch for. It has probably some foundation in truth but is exaggerated in the circumstances.) Menangkabau being the principal sovereignty of the island, which formerly comprehended the whole, and still receives a shadow of homage from the most powerful of the other kingdoms which have sprung up from its ruins, would seem to claim a right to precedence in description, but I have a sufficient reason for deferring it to a subsequent part of the work; which is that the people of this empire, by their conversion to Mahometanism and consequent change of manners, have lost in a greater degree than some neighbouring tribes the genuine Sumatran character, which is the immediate object of my investigation. MALAYS. They are distinguished from the other inhabitants of this island by the appellation of Orang Malayo, or Malays, which however they have in common with those of the coast of the Peninsula and of many other islands; and the name is applied to every Mussulman speaking the Malayan as his proper language, and either belonging to, or claiming descent from, the ancient kingdom of Menangkabau; wherever the place of his residence may be. Beyond Bencoolen to the southward there are none to be met with excepting such as have been drawn thither by, and are in the pay of, Europeans. On the eastern side of the island they are settled at the entrance of almost all the navigable rivers, where they more conveniently indulge their habitual bent for trade and piracy. It must be observed indeed that in common speech the term Malay, like that of Moor in the continent of India, is almost synonymous with Mahometan; and when the natives of other parts learn to read the Arabic character, submit to circumcision, and practise the ceremonies of religion, they are often said men-jadi Malayo, to become Malays, instead of the more correct expression sudah masuk Islam, have embraced the faith. The distinction will appear more strongly from this circumstance, that whilst the sultan of Anak Sungei (Moco-moco), ambitious of imitating the sultan of Menangkabau, styles himself and his immediate subjects Malays, his neighbour, the Pangeran of Sungei Lamo, chief of the Rejangs, a very civilised Mahometan, and whose ancestors for some generations were of the same faith, seemed offended, in a conversation I had with him, at my supposing him (as he is usually considered) a Malay, and replied with some emotion, "Malayo tidah, sir; orang ulu betul sayo." "No Malay sir; I am a genuine, aboriginal countryman." The two languages he wrote and talked (I know not if he be still living) with equal facility; but the Rejang he esteemed his mother tongue. Attempts to ascertain from what quarter Sumatra was peopled must rest upon mere conjecture. The adjacent peninsula (called by Europeans or other foreigners the Malayan Peninsula) presents the most obvious source of population; and it has accordingly been presumed that emigrants from thence supplied it and the other islands of the eastern Archipelago with inhabitants. By this opinion, adopted without examination, I was likewise misled and, on a former occasion, spoke of the probability of a colony from the peninsula having settled upon the western coast of the island; but I have since learned from the histories and traditions of the natives of both countries that the reverse is the fact, and that the founders of the celebrated kingdoms of Johor, Singapura, and Malacca were adventurers from Sumatra. Even at this day the inhabitants of the interior parts of the peninsula are a race entirely distinct from those of the two coasts. Thus much it was necessary, in order to avoid ambiguity, to say in the first instance concerning the Malays, of whom a more particular account will be given in a subsequent part of the work. As the most dissimilar among the other classes into which I have divided the inhabitants must of course have very many points of mutual resemblance, and many of their habits, customs, and ceremonies, in common, it becomes expedient, in order to avoid a troublesome and useless repetition, to single out one class from among them whose manners shall undergo a particular and full investigation, and serve as a standard for the whole; the deviation from which, in other classes, shall afterwards be pointed out, and the most singular and striking usages peculiar to each superadded. NATION OF THE REJANGS ADOPTED AS A STANDARD OF DESCRIPTION. Various circumstances induce me on this occasion to give the preference to the Rejangs, though a nation of but small account in the political scale of the island. They are placed in what may be esteemed a central situation, not geographically, but with respect to the encroachments of foreign manners and opinions introduced by the Malays from the north, and Javans from the south; which gives them a claim to originality superior to that of most others. They are a people whose form of government and whose laws extend with very little variation over a considerable part of the island, and principally that portion where the connexions of the English lie. There are traditions of their having formerly sent forth colonies to the southward; and in the country of Passummah the site of their villages is still pointed out; which would prove that they have formerly been of more consideration than they can boast at present. They have a proper language and a perfect written character. These advantages point out the Rejang people as an eligible standard of description; and a motive equally strong that induces me to adopt them as such is that my situation and connexions in the island led me to a more intimate and minute acquaintance with their laws and manners than with those of any other class. I must premise however that the Malay customs having made their way in a greater or less degree to every part of Sumatra, it will be totally impossible to discriminate with entire accuracy those which are original from those which are borrowed; and of course what I shall say of the Rejangs will apply for the most part not only to the Sumatrans in general but may sometimes be in strictness proper to the Malays alone, and by them taught to the higher rank of country people. SITUATION OF THE REJANG COUNTRY. The country of the Rejangs is divided to the north-west from the kingdom of Anak Sungei (of which Moco-moco is the capital) by the small river of Uri, near that of Kattaun; which last, with the district of Labun on its banks, bounds it on the north or inland side. The country of Musi, where Palembang River takes its rise, forms its limit to the eastward. Bencoolen River, precisely speaking, confines it on the south-east; though the inhabitants of the district called Lemba, extending from thence to Silebar, are entirely the same people in manners and language. The principal rivers besides those already mentioned are Laye, Pally, and Sungeilamo; on all of which the English have factories, the resident or chief being stationed at Laye. PERSONS OF THE INHABITANTS. The persons of the inhabitants of the island, though differing considerably in districts remote from each other, may in general be comprehended in the following description; excepting the Achinese, whose commixture with the Moors of the west of India has distinguished them from the other Sumatrans. GENERAL DESCRIPTION. They are rather below the middle stature; their bulk is in proportion; their limbs are for the most part slight, but well shaped, and particularly small at the wrists and ankles. Upon the whole they are gracefully formed, and I scarcely recollect to have ever seen one deformed person among the natives.* (*Footnote. Ghirardini, an Italian painter, who touched at Sumatra on his way to China in 1698 observes of the Malays: Son di persona ben formata Quanto mai finger san pittori industri. He speaks in high terms of the country as being beautifully picturesque.) The women however have the preposterous custom of flattening the noses, and compressing the heads of children newly born, whilst the skull is yet cartilaginous, which increases their natural tendency to that shape. I could never trace the origin of the practice, or learn any other reason for moulding the features to this uncouth appearance, but that it was an improvement of beauty in their estimation. Captain Cook takes notice of a similar operation at the island of Ulietea. They likewise pull out the ears of infants to make them stand at an angle from the head. Their eyes are uniformly dark and clear, and among some, especially the southern women, bear a strong resemblance to those of the Chinese, in the peculiarity of formation so generally observed of that people. Their hair is strong and of a shining black; the improvement of both which qualities it probably owes in great measure to the early and constant use of coconut oil, with which they keep it moist. The men frequently cut their hair short, not appearing to take any pride in it; the women encourage theirs to a considerable length, and I have known many instances of its reaching the ground. The men are beardless and have chins so remarkably smooth that, were it not for the priests displaying a little tuft, we should be apt to conclude that nature had refused them this token of manhood. It is the same in respect to other parts of the body with both sexes; and this particular attention to their persons they esteem a point of delicacy, and the contrary an unpardonable neglect. The boys as they approach to the age of puberty rub their chins, upper lips, and those parts of the body that are subject to superfluous hair with chunam (quicklime) especially of shells, which destroys the roots of the incipient beard. The few pilae that afterwards appear are plucked out from time to time with tweezers, which they always carry about them for that purpose. Were it not for the numerous and very respectable authorities from which we are assured that the natives of America are naturally beardless, I should think that the common opinion on that subject had been rashly adopted, and that their appearing thus at a mature age was only the consequence of an early practice, similar to that observed among the Sumatrans. Even now I must confess that it would remove some small degree of doubt from my mind could it be ascertained that no such custom prevails.* (*Footnote. It is allowed by travellers that the Patagonians have tufts of hair on the upper lip and chin. Captain Carver says that among the tribes he visited the people made a regular practice of eradicating their beards with pincers. At Brussels is preserved, along with a variety of ancient and curious suits of armour, that of Montezuma, king of Mexico, of which the visor, or mask for the face, has remarkably large whiskers; an ornament which those Americans could not have imitated unless nature had presented them with the model. See a paper in the Philosophical Transactions for 1786, which puts this matter beyond a doubt. In a French dictionary of the Huron language, published in 1632, I observe a term corresponding to "arracher la barbe.") Their complexion is properly yellow, wanting the red tinge that constitutes a tawny or copper colour. They are in general lighter than the Mestees, or halfbreed, of the rest of India; those of the superior class who are not exposed to the rays of the sun, and particularly their women of rank, approaching to a great degree of fairness. Did beauty consist in this one quality some of them would surpass our brunettes in Europe. The major part of the females are ugly, and many of them even to disgust, yet there are those among them whose appearance is strikingly beautiful; whatever composition of person, features, and complexion that sentiment may be the result of. COLOUR NOT ASCRIBABLE TO CLIMATE. The fairness of the Sumatrans comparatively with other Indians, situated as they are under a perpendicular sun where no season of the year affords an alternative of cold, is I think an irrefragable proof that the difference of colour in the various inhabitants of the earth is not the immediate effect of climate. The children of Europeans born in this island are as fair as those born in the country of their parents. I have observed the same of the second generation, where a mixture with the people of the country has been avoided. On the other hand the offspring and all the descendants of the Guinea and other African slaves imported there continue in the last instance as perfectly black as in the original stock. I do not mean to enter into the merits of the question which naturally connects with these observations; but shall only remark that the sallow and adust countenances so commonly acquired by Europeans who have long resided in hot climates are more ascribable to the effect of bilious distempers, which almost all are subject to in a greater or less degree, than of their exposure to the influence of the weather, which few but seafaring people are liable to, and of which the impression is seldom permanent. From this circumstance I have been led to conjecture that the general disparity of complexions in different nations might POSSIBLY be owing to the more or less copious secretion or redundance of that juice, rendering the skin more or less dark according to the qualities of the bile prevailing in the constitutions of each. But I fear such a hypothesis would not stand the test of experiment, as it might be expected to follow that, upon dissection, the contents of a negro's gall-bladder, or at least the extravasated bile, should uniformly be found black. Persons skilled in anatomy will determine whether it is possible that the qualities of any animal secretion can so far affect the frame as to render their consequences liable to be transmitted to posterity in their full force.* (*Footnote. In an Essay on the Causes of the Variety of Complexion and Figure in the Human Species published at Philadelphia in 1787 the permanent effect of the bilious secretion in determining the colour is strongly insisted upon.) The small size of the inhabitants, and especially of the women, may be in some measure owing to the early communication between the sexes; though, as the inclinations which lead to this intercourse are prompted here by nature sooner than in cold climates, it is not unfair to suppose that, being proportioned to the period of maturity, this is also sooner attained, and consequently that the earlier cessation of growth of these people is agreeable to the laws of their constitution, and not occasioned by a premature and irregular appetite. Persons of superior rank encourage the growth of their hand-nails, particularly those of the fore and little fingers, to an extraordinary length; frequently tingeing them red with the expressed juice of a shrub which they call inei, the henna of the Arabians; as they do the nails of their feet also, to which, being always uncovered, they pay as much attention as to their hands. The hands of the natives, and even of the halfbreed, are always cold to the touch; which I cannot account for otherwise than by a supposition that, from the less degree of elasticity in the solids occasioned by the heat of the climate, the internal action of the body by which the fluids are put in motion is less vigorous, the circulation is proportionably languid, and of course the diminished effect is most perceptible in the extremities, and a coldness there is the natural consequence. HILL PEOPLE SUBJECT TO WENS. The natives of the hills through the whole extent of the island are subject to those monstrous wens from the throat which have been observed of the Vallaisans and the inhabitants of other mountainous districts in Europe. It has been usual to attribute this affection to the badness, thawed state, mineral quality, or other peculiarity of the waters; many skilful men having applied themselves to the investigation of the subject. My experience enables me to pronounce without hesitation that the disorder, for such it is though it appears here to mark a distinct race of people (orang-gunong), is immediately connected with the hilliness of the country, and of course, if the circumstances of the water they use contribute thereto, it must be only so far as the nature of the water is affected by the inequality or height of the land. But in Sumatra neither snow nor other congelation is ever produced, which militates against the most plausible conjecture that has been adopted concerning the Alpine goitres. From every research that I have been enabled to make I think I have reason to conclude that the complaint is owing, among the Sumatrans, to the fogginess of the air in the valleys between the high mountains, where, and not on the summits, the natives of these parts reside. I before remarked that, between the ranges of hills, the kabut or dense mist was visible for several hours every morning; rising in a thick, opaque, and well-defined body with the sun, and seldom quite dispersed till afternoon. This phenomenon, as well as that of the wens, being peculiar to the regions of the hills, affords a presumption that they may be connected; exclusive of the natural probability that a cold vapour, gross to a uncommon degree, and continually enveloping the habitations, should affect with tumors the throats of the inhabitants. I cannot pretend to say how far this solution may apply to the case of the goitres, but I recollect it to have been mentioned that the only method of curing the people is by removing them from the valleys to the clear and pure air on the tops of the hills; which seems to indicate a similar source of the distemper to what I have pointed out. The Sumatrans do not appear to attempt any remedy for it, the wens being consistent with the highest health in other respects. DIFFERENCE IN PERSON BETWEEN MALAYS AND OTHER SUMATRANS. The personal difference between the Malays of the coast and the country inhabitants is not so strongly marked but that it requires some experience to distinguish them. The latter however possess an evident superiority in point of size and strength, and are fairer complexioned, which they probably owe to their situation, where the atmosphere is colder; and it is generally observed that people living near the seashore, and especially when accustomed to navigation, are darker than their inland neighbours. Some attribute the disparity in constitutional vigour to the more frequent use of opium among the Malays, which is supposed to debilitate the frame; but I have noted that the Limun and Batang Asei gold traders, who are a colony of that race settled in the heart of the island, and who cannot exist a day without opium, are remarkably hale and stout; which I have known to be observed with a degree of envy by the opium-smokers of our settlements. The inhabitants of Passummah also are described as being more robust in their persons than the planters of the low country. CLOTHING. The original clothing of the Sumatrans is the same with that found by navigators among the inhabitants of the South Sea Islands, and now generally called by the name of Otaheitean cloth. It is still used among the Rejangs for their working dress, and I have one in my possession procured from these people consisting of a jacket, short drawers, and a cap for the head. This is the inner bark of a certain species of tree, beaten out to the degree of fineness required, approaching the more to perfection as it resembles the softer kind of leather, some being nearly equal to the most delicate kid-skin; in which character it somewhat differs from the South Sea cloth, as that bears a resemblance rather to paper, or to the manufacture of the loom. The country people now conform in a great measure to the dress of the Malays, which I shall therefore describe in this place, observing that much more simplicity still prevails among the former, who look upon the others as coxcombs who lay out all their substance on their backs, whilst in their turns they are regarded by the Malays with contempt as unpolished rustics. MAN'S DRESS. A man's dress consists of the following parts. A close waistcoat, without sleeves, but having a neck like a shirt, buttoned close up to the top, with buttons, often of gold filigree. This is peculiar to the Malays. Over this they wear the baju, which resembles a morning gown, open at the neck, but generally fastened close at the wrists and halfway up the arm, with nine buttons to each sleeve. The sleeves, however, are often wide and loose, and others again, though nearly tight, reach not far beyond the elbow, especially of those worn by the younger females, which, as well as those of the young men, are open in front no farther down than the bosom, and reach no lower than the waist, whereas the others hang loose to the knees, and sometimes to the ankles. They are made usually of blue or white cotton cloth; for the better sort, of chintz; and for great men, of flowered silks. The kain-sarong is not unlike a Scots highlander's plaid in appearance, being a piece of party-coloured cloth about six or eight feet long and three or four wide, sewed together at the ends; forming, as some writers have described it, a wide sack without a bottom. This is sometimes gathered up and slung over the shoulder like a sash, or else folded and tucked about the waist and hips; and in full dress it is bound on by the belt of the kris (dagger), which is of crimson silk and wraps several times round the body, with a loop at the end in which the sheath of the kris hangs. They wear short drawers reaching halfway down the thigh, generally of red or yellow taffeta. There is no covering to their legs or feet. Round their heads they fasten, in a particular manner, a fine, coloured handkerchief, so as to resemble a small turban; the country people usually twisting a piece of white or blue cloth for this purpose. The crown of their head remains uncovered except on journeys, when they wear a tudong or umbrella-hat, which completely screens them from the weather. WOMAN'S DRESS. The women have a kind of bodice, or short waistcoat rather, that defends the breasts and reaches to the hips. The kain-sarong, before described, comes up as high as the armpits, and extends to the feet, being kept on simply by folding and tucking it over at the breast, except when the tali-pending, or zone, is worn about the waist, which forms an additional and necessary security. This is usually of embroidered cloth, and sometimes a plate of gold or silver, about two inches broad, fastening in the front with a large clasp of filigree or chased work, with some kind of precious stone, or imitation of such, in the centre. The baju, or upper gown, differs little from that of the men, buttoning in the same manner at the wrists. A piece of fine, thin, cotton cloth, or slight silk, about five feet long, and worked or fringed at each end, called a salendang, is thrown across the back of the neck, and hangs down before; serving also the purpose of a veil to the women of rank when they walk abroad. The handkerchief is carried either folded small in the hand, or in a long fold over the shoulder. There are two modes of dressing the hair, one termed kundei and the other sanggol. The first resembles much the fashion in which we see the Chinese women represented in paintings, and which I conclude they borrowed from thence, where the hair is wound circularly over the centre of the head, and fastened with a silver bodkin or pin. In the other mode, which is more general, they give the hair a single twist as it hangs behind, and then doubling it up they pass it crosswise under a few hairs separated from the rest on the back of the head for that purpose. A comb, often of tortoise-shell and sometimes filigreed, helps to prevent it from falling down. The hair of the front and of all parts of the head is of the same length, and when loose hangs together behind, with most of the women, in very great quantity. It is kept moist with oil newly expressed from the coconut; but those persons who can afford it make use also of an empyreumatic oil extracted from gum benzoin, as a grateful perfume. They wear no covering except ornaments of flowers, which on particular occasions are the work of much labour and ingenuity. The head-dresses of the dancing girls by profession, who are usually Javans, are very artificially wrought, and as high as any modern English lady's cap, yielding only to the feathered plumes of the year 1777. It is impossible to describe in words these intricate and fanciful matters so as to convey a just idea of them. The flowers worn in undress are for the most part strung in wreaths, and have a very neat and pretty effect, without any degree of gaudiness, being usually white or pale yellow, small, and frequently only half-blown. Those generally chosen for these occasions are the bunga-tanjong and bunga-mellur: the bunga-chumpaka is used to give the hair a fragrance, but is concealed from the sight. They sometimes combine a variety of flowers in such a manner as to appear like one, and fix them on a single stalk; but these, being more formal, are less elegant than the wreaths. DISTINGUISHING ORNAMENTS OF VIRGINS. Among the country people, particularly in the southern countries, the virgins (anak gaddis, or goddesses, as it is usually pronounced) are distinguished by a fillet which goes across the front of the hair and fastens behind. This is commonly a thin plate of silver, about half an inch broad: those of the first rank have it of gold, and those of the lowest class have their fillet of the leaf of the nipah tree. Beside this peculiar ornament their state is denoted by their having rings or bracelets of silver or gold on their wrists. Strings of coins round the neck are universally worn by children, and the females, before they are of an age to be clothed, have what may not be inaptly termed a modesty-piece, being a plate of silver in the shape of a heart (called chaping) hung before, by a chain of the same metal, passing round the waist. The young women in the country villages manufacture themselves the cloth that forms the body-dress, or kain-sarong, which for common occasions is their only covering, and reaches from the breast no lower than the knees. The dresses of the women of the Malay bazaars on the contrary extend as low as the feet; but here, as in other instances, the more scrupulous attention to appearances does not accompany the superior degree of real modesty. This cloth, for the wear both of men and women, is imported from the island of Celebes, or, as it is here termed, the Bugis country. MODE OF FILING TEETH. Both sexes have the extraordinary custom of filing and otherwise disfiguring their teeth, which are naturally very white and beautiful from the simplicity of their food. For files they make use of small whetstones of different degrees of fineness, and the patients lie on their back during the operation. Many, particularly the women of the Lampong country, have their teeth rubbed down quite even with the gums; others have them formed in points; and some file off no more than the outer coat and extremities, in order that they may the better receive and retain the jetty blackness with which they almost universally adorn them. The black used on these occasions is the empyreumatic oil of the coconut-shell. When this is not applied the filing does not, by destroying what we term the enamel, diminish the whiteness of the teeth; but the use of betel renders them black if pains be not taken to prevent it. The great men sometimes set theirs in gold, by casing, with a plate of that metal, the under row; and this ornament, contrasted with the black dye, has by lamp or candlelight a very splendid effect. It is sometimes indented to the shape of the teeth, but more usually quite plain. They do not remove it either to eat or sleep. At the age of about eight or nine they bore the ears and file the teeth of the female children; which are ceremonies that must necessarily precede their marriage. The former they call betende, and the latter bedabong; and these operations are regarded in the family as the occasion of a festival. They do not here, as in some of the adjacent islands (of Nias in particular), increase the aperture of the ear to a monstrous size, so as in many instances to be large enough to admit the hand, the lower parts being stretched till they touch the shoulders. Their earrings are mostly of gold filigree, and fastened not with a clasp, but in the manner of a rivet or nut screwed to the inner part. CHAPTER 3. VILLAGES. BUILDINGS. DOMESTIC UTENSILS. FOOD. I shall now attempt a description of the villages and buildings of the Sumatrans, and proceed to their domestic habits of economy, and those simple arts on which the procuring of their food and other necessaries depends. These are not among the least interesting objects of philosophical speculation. In proportion as the arts in use with any people are connected with the primary demands of nature, they carry the greater likelihood of originality, because those demands must have been administered to from a period coeval with the existence of the people themselves. Or if complete originality be regarded as a visionary idea, engendered from ignorance and the obscurity of remote events, such arts must be allowed to have the fairest claim to antiquity at least. Arts of accommodation, and more especially of luxury, are commonly the effect of imitation, and suggested by the improvements of other nations which have made greater advances towards civilisation. These afford less striking and characteristic features in delineating the picture of mankind, and, though they may add to the beauty, diminish from the genuineness of the piece. We must not look for unequivocal generic marks, where the breed, in order to mend it, has been crossed by a foreign mixture. All the arts of primary necessity are comprehended within two distinctions: those which protect us from the inclemency of the weather and other outward accidents; and those which are employed in securing the means of subsistence. Both are immediately essential to the continuance of life, and man is involuntarily and immediately prompted to exercise them by the urgent calls of nature, even in the merest possible state of savage and uncultivated existence. In climates like that of Sumatra this impulse extends not far. The human machine is kept going with small effort in so favourable a medium. The spring of importunate necessity there soon loses its force, and consequently the wheels of invention that depend upon it fail to perform more than a few simple revolutions. In regions less mild this original motive to industry and ingenuity carries men to greater lengths in the application of arts to the occasions of life; and these of course in an equal space of time attain to greater perfection than among the inhabitants of the tropical latitudes, who find their immediate wants supplied with facility, and prefer the negative pleasure of inaction to the enjoyment of any conveniences that are to be purchased with exertion and labour. This consideration may perhaps tend to reconcile the high antiquity universally allowed to Asiatic nations, with the limited progress of arts and sciences among them; in which they are manifestly surpassed by people who compared with them are but of very recent date. The Sumatrans however in the construction of their habitations have stepped many degrees beyond those rude contrivances which writers describe the inhabitants of some other Indian countries to have been contented with adopting in order to screen themselves from the immediate influence of surrounding elements. Their houses are not only permanent but convenient, and are built in the vicinity of each other that they may enjoy the advantages of mutual assistance and protection resulting from a state of society.* (*Footnote. In several of the small islands near Sumatra (including the Nicobars), whose inhabitants in general are in a very low state of civilisation, the houses are built circularly. Vid Asiatic Researches volume 4 page 129 plate.) VILLAGES. The dusuns or villages (for the small number of inhabitants assembled in each does not entitle them to the appellations of towns) are always situated on the banks of a river or lake for the convenience of bathing and of transporting goods. An eminence difficult of ascent is usually made choice of for security. The access to them is by footways, narrow and winding, of which there are seldom more than two; one to the country and the other to the water; the latter in most places so steep as to render it necessary to cut steps in the cliff or rock. The dusuns, being surrounded with abundance of fruit-trees, some of considerable height, as the durian, coco, and betel-nut, and the neighbouring country for a little space about being in some degree cleared of wood for the rice and pepper plantations, these villages strike the eye at a distance as clumps merely, exhibiting no appearance of a town or any place of habitation. The rows of houses form commonly a quadrangle, with passages or lanes at intervals between the buildings, where in the more considerable villages live the lower class of inhabitants, and where also their padi-houses or granaries are erected. In the middle of the square stands the balei or town hall, a room about fifty to a hundred feet long and twenty or thirty wide, without division, and open at the sides, excepting when on particular occasions it is hung with mats or chintz; but sheltered in a lateral direction by the deep overhanging roof. (PLATE 19. A VILLAGE HOUSE IN SUMATRA. W. Bell delt. J.G. Stadler sculpt. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 19a. A PLANTATION HOUSE IN SUMATRA. W. Bell delt. J.G. Stadler sculpt.) BUILDINGS. In their buildings neither stone, brick, nor clay, are ever made use of, which is the case in most countries where timber abounds, and where the warmth of the climate renders the free admission of air a matter rather to be desired than guarded against: but in Sumatra the frequency of earthquakes is alone sufficient to have prevented the natives from adopting a substantial mode of building. The frames of the houses are of wood, the underplate resting on pillars of about six or eight feet in height, which have a sort of capital but no base, and are wider at top than at bottom. The people appear to have no idea of architecture as a science, though much ingenuity is often shown in the manner of working up their materials, and they have, the Malays at least, technical terms corresponding to all those employed by our house carpenters. Their conception of proportions is extremely rude, often leaving those parts of a frame which have the greatest bearing with the weakest support, and lavishing strength upon inadequate pressure. For the floorings they lay whole bamboos (a well-known species of large cane) of four or five inches diameter, close to each other, and fasten them at the ends to the timbers. Across these are laid laths of split bamboo, about an inch wide and of the length of the room, which are tied down with filaments of the rattan; and over these are usually spread mats of different kinds. This sort of flooring has an elasticity alarming to strangers when they first tread on it. The sides of the houses are generally closed in with palupo, which is the bamboo opened and rendered flat by notching or splitting the circular joints on the outside, chipping away the corresponding divisions within, and laying it to dry in the sun, pressed down with weights. This is sometimes nailed onto the upright timbers or bamboos, but in the country parts it is more commonly interwoven, or matted, in breadths of six inches, and a piece, or sheet, formed at once of the size required. In some places they use for the same purpose the kulitkayu, or coolicoy, as it is pronounced by the Europeans, who employ it on board ship as dunnage in pepper and other cargoes. This is a bark procured from some particular trees, of which the bunut and ibu are the most common. When they prepare to take it the outer rind is first torn or cut away; the inner, which affords the material, is then marked out with a prang, pateel, or other tool, to the size required, which is usually three cubits by one; it is afterwards beaten for some time with a heavy stick to loosen it from the stem, and being peeled off is laid in the sun to dry, care being taken to prevent its warping. The thicker or thinner sorts of the same species of kulitkayu owe their difference to their being taken nearer to or farther from the root. That which is used in building has nearly the texture and hardness of wood. The pliable and delicate bark of which clothing is made is procured from a tree called kalawi, a bastard species of the bread-fruit. The most general mode of covering houses is with the atap, which is the leaf of a species of palm called nipah. These, previous to their being laid on, are formed into sheets of about five feet long and as deep as the length of the leaf will admit, which is doubled at one end over a slip or lath of bamboo; they are then disposed on the roof so as that one sheet shall lap over the other, and are tied to the bamboos which serve for rafters. There are various other and more durable kinds of covering used. The kulitkayu, before described, is sometimes employed for this purpose: the galumpei--this is a thatch of narrow split bamboos, six feet in length, placed in regular layers, each reaching within two feet of the extremity of that beneath it, by which a treble covering is formed: iju--this is a vegetable production so nearly resembling horse-hair as scarcely to be distinguished from it. It envelopes the stem of that species of palm called anau, from which the best toddy or palm wine is procured, and is employed by the natives for a great variety of purposes. It is bound on as a thatch in the manner we do straw, and not unfrequently over the galumpei; in which case the roof is so durable as never to require renewal, the iju being of all vegetable substances the least prone to decay, and for this reason it is a common practice to wrap a quantity of it round the ends of timbers or posts which are to be fixed in the ground. I saw a house about twenty miles up Manna River, belonging to Dupati Bandar Agung, the roof of which was of fifty years standing. The larger houses have three pitches in the roof; the middle one, under which the door is placed, being much lower than the other two. In smaller houses there are but two pitches, which are always of unequal height, and the entrance is in the smaller, which covers a kind of hall or cooking room. There is another kind of house, erected mostly for a temporary purpose, the roof of which is flat and is covered in a very uncommon, simple, and ingenious manner. Large, straight bamboos are cut of a length sufficient to lie across the house, and, being split exactly in two and the joints knocked out, a first layer of them is disposed in close order, with the inner or hollow sides up; after which a second layer, with the outer or convex sides up, is placed upon the others in such manner that each of the convex falls into the two contiguous concave pieces, covering their edges; the latter serving as gutters to carry off the water that falls upon the upper or convex layer.* (*Footnote. I find that the original inhabitants of the Philippine Islands covered their buildings in the same manner.) The mode of ascent to the houses is by a piece of timber or stout bamboo, cut in notches, which latter an European cannot avail himself of, especially as the precaution is seldom taken of binding them fast. These are the wonderful light scaling-ladders which the old Portuguese writers described to have been used by the people of Achin in their wars with their nation. It is probable that the apprehension of danger from the wild beasts caused them to adopt and continue this rude expedient, in preference to more regular and commodious steps. The detached buildings in the country, near to their plantations, called talangs, they raise to the height of ten or twelve feet from the ground, and make a practice of taking up their ladder at night to secure themselves from the destructive ravages of the tigers. I have been assured, but do not pledge myself for the truth of the story, that an elephant, attempting to pass under one of these houses, which stand on four or six posts, stuck by the way, but, disdaining to retreat, carried it, with the family it contained, on his back to a considerable distance. In the buildings of the dusuns, particularly where the most respectable families reside, the woodwork in front is carved in the style of bas-relief, in a variety of uncouth ornaments and grotesque figures, not much unlike the Egyptian hieroglyphics, but certainly without any mystic or historical allusion. FURNITURE. The furniture of their houses, corresponding with their manner of living, is very simple, and consists of but few articles. Their bed is a mat, usually of fine texture, and manufactured for the purpose, with a number of pillows, worked at the ends and adorned with a shining substance that resembles foil. A sort of canopy or valance, formed of various coloured cloths, hangs overhead. Instead of tables they have what resemble large wooden salvers, with feet called dulang, round each of which three or four persons dispose themselves; and on these are laid the talams or brass waiters which hold the cups that contain their curry, and plantain leaves or matted vessels filled with rice. Their mode of sitting is not cross-legged, as the inhabitants of Turkey and our tailors use, but either on the haunches or on the left side, supported by the left hand with the legs tucked in on the right side; leaving that hand at liberty which they always, from motives of delicacy, scrupulously eat with; the left being reserved for less cleanly offices. Neither knives, spoons, nor any substitutes for them are employed; they take up the rice and other victuals between the thumb and fingers, and dexterously throw it into the mouth by the action of the thumb, dipping frequently their hands in water as they eat. UTENSILS. They have a little coarse chinaware, imported by the eastern praws, which is held a matter of luxury. In cooking they employ a kind of iron vessel well-known in India by the name of quallie or tauch, resembling in shape the pans used in some of our manufactures, having the rim wide and bottom narrow. These are likewise brought from the eastward. The priu and balanga, species of earthen pipkins, are in more common use, being made in small quantities in different parts of the island, particularly in Lampong, where they give them a sort of glazing; but the greater number of them are imported from Bantam. The original Sumatran vessel for boiling rice, and which is still much used for that purpose, is the bamboo, that material of general utility with which bountiful nature has supplied an indolent people. By the time the rice is dressed the utensil is nearly destroyed by the fire, but resists the flame so long as there is moisture within. FIRES. Fire being wanted among these people but occasionally, and only when they cook their victuals, there is not much attention paid in their buildings to provide conveniences for it. Their houses have no chimneys, and their fireplaces are no more than a few loose bricks or stones, disposed in a temporary manner and frequently on the landing-place before the doors. The fuel made use of is wood alone, the coal which the island produces never being converted by the inhabitants to that purpose. The flint and steel for striking fire are common in the country, but it is a practice certainly borrowed from some other people, as that species of stone is not a native of the soil. These generally form part of their travelling apparatus, and especially with those men called risaus (spendthrifts that turn freebooters), who find themselves often obliged to take up their habitation in the woods or in deserted houses. But they also frequently kindle fire from the friction of two sticks. MODE OF KINDLING THEM. They choose a piece of dry, porous wood, and cutting smooth a spot of it lay it in a horizontal direction. They then apply a smaller piece, of a harder substance, with a blunt point, in a perpendicular position, and turn it quickly round, between the two hands, as chocolate is milled, pressing it downwards at the same time. A hole is soon formed by this motion of the smaller stick; but it has not penetrated far before the larger one takes fire. I have also seen the same effect produced more simply by rubbing one bit of bamboo with a sharp edge across another.* (*Footnote. This mode of kindling fire is not peculiar to Sumatra: we read of the same practice in Africa and even in Kamtschatka. It is surprising, but confirmed by abundant authority, that many nations of the earth have at certain periods, been ignorant of the use of fire. To our immediate apprehension human existence would seem in such circumstances impossible. Every art, every convenience, every necessary of life, is now in the most intimate manner connected with it: and yet the Chinese, the Egyptians, the Phoenicians, and Greeks acknowledged traditions concerning its first discovery in their respective countries. But in fact if we can once suppose a man, or society of men, unacquainted with the being and uses of this element, I see no difficulty in conceiving the possibility of their supporting life without it; I mean in the tropical climates; and of centuries passing before they should arrive at the important discovery. It is true that lightning and its effects, volcanoes, the firing of dry substances by fortuitous attrition, or of moist, by fermentation, might give them an idea of its violent and destructive properties; but far from being thence induced to appropriate and apply it they would, on the contrary, dread and avoid it, even in its less formidable appearances. They might be led to worship it as their deity, but not to cherish it as their domestic. There is some reason to conclude that the man who first reduced it to subjection and rendered it subservient to the purposes of life procured it from the collision of two flints; but the sparks thus produced, whether by accident or design, might be observed innumerable times without its suggesting a beneficial application. In countries where those did not present themselves the discovery had, most probably, its origin in the rubbing together of dry sticks, and in this operation, the agent and subject coexisting, flame, with its properties and uses, became more immediately apparent. Still, as no previous idea was conceived of this latent principle, and consequently no search made, no endeavours exerted, to bring it to light, I see not the impossibility a priori of its remaining almost as long concealed from mankind as the properties of the loadstone or the qualities of gunpowder.) Water is conveyed from the spring in bamboos, which for this purpose are cut, either to the length of five or six feet and carried over the shoulder, or into a number of single joints that are put together in a basket. It is drunk out of the fruit called labu here, resembling the calabash of the West Indies, a hole being made in the side of the neck and another at top for vent. In drinking they generally hold the vessel at a distance above their mouths and catch the stream as it falls; the liquid descending to the stomach without the action of swallowing. Baskets (bronong, bakul) are a considerable part of the furniture of a man's house, and the number of these seen hanging up are tokens of the owner's substance; for in them his harvests of rice or pepper are gathered and brought home; no carts being employed in the interior parts of the island which I am now describing. They are made of slips of bamboo connected by means of split rattans; and are carried chiefly by the women, on the back, supported by a string or band across the forehead. FOOD. Although the Sumatrans live in a great measure upon vegetable food they are not restrained by any superstitious opinion from other aliments, and accordingly at their entertainments the flesh of the buffalo (karbau), goat, and fowls, are served up. Their dishes are almost all prepared in that mode of dressing to which we have given the name of curry (from a Hindostanic word), and which is now universally known in Europe. It is called in the Malay language gulei, and may be composed of any kind of edible, but is generally of flesh or fowl, with a variety of pulse and succulent herbage, stewed down with certain ingredients, by us termed, when mixed and ground together, curry powder. These ingredients are, among others, the cayenne or chili-pepper, turmeric, sarei or lemon-grass, cardamums, garlick, and the pulp of the coconut bruised to a milk resembling that of almonds, which is the only liquid made use of. This differs from the curries of Madras and Bengal, which have greater variety of spices, and want the coconut. It is not a little remarkable that the common pepper, the chief produce and staple commodity of the country, is never mixed by the natives in their food. They esteem it heating to the blood, and ascribe a contrary effect to the cayenne; which I can say, my own experience justifies. A great diversity of curries is usually served up at the same time, in small vessels, each flavoured to a nice discerning taste in a different manner; and in this consists all the luxury of their tables. Let their quantity or variety or meat be what it may, the principle article of their food is rice, which is eaten in a large proportion with every dish, and very frequently without any other accompaniment than salt and chili-pepper. It is prepared by boiling in a manner peculiar to India; its perfection, next to cleanness and whiteness, consisting in its being, when thoroughly dressed and soft to the heart, at the same time whole and separate, so that no two grains shall adhere together. The manner of effecting this is by putting into the earthen or other vessel in which it is boiled a quantity of water sufficient to cover it, letting it simmer over a slow fire, taking off the water by degrees with a flat ladle or spoon that the grain may dry, and removing it when just short of burning. At their entertainments the guests are treated with rice prepared also in a variety of modes, by frying it in cakes or boiling a particular species of it mixed with the kernel of the coconut and fresh oil, in small joints of bamboo. This is called lemmang. Before it is served up they cut off the outer rind of the bamboo and the soft inner coat is peeled away by the person who eats. FLESH-MEAT. They dress their meat immediately after killing it, while it is still warm, which is conformable with the practice of the ancients as recorded in Homer and elsewhere, and in this state it is said to eat tenderer than when kept for a day: longer the climate will not admit of, unless when it is preserved in that mode called dinding. This is the flesh of the buffalo cut into small thin steaks and exposed to the heat of the sun in fair weather, generally on the thatch of their houses, till it is become so dry and hard as to resist putrefaction without any assistance from salt. Fish is preserved in the same manner, and cargoes of both are sent from parts of the coast where they are in plenty to those where provisions are in more demand. It is seemingly strange that heat, which in a certain degree promotes putrefaction, should when violently increased operate to prevent it; but it must be considered that moisture also is requisite to the former effect, and this is absorbed in thin substances by the sun's rays before it can contribute to the production of maggots. Blachang, a preservation, if it may be so termed, of an opposite kind, is esteemed a great delicacy among the Malays, and is by them exported to the west of India. The country Sumatrans seldom procure it. It is a species of caviar, and is extremely offensive and disgusting to persons who are not accustomed to it, particularly the black kind, which is the most common. The best sort, or the red blachang, is made of the spawn of shrimps, or of the shrimps themselves, which they take about the mouths of rivers. They are, after boiling, exposed to the sun to dry, then pounded in a mortar with salt, moistened with a little water and formed into cakes, which is all the process. The black sort, used by the lower class, is made of small fish, prepared in the same manner. On some parts of the east coast of the island they salt the roes of a large fish of the shad kind, and preserve them perfectly dry and well flavoured. These are called trobo. When the natives kill a buffalo, which is always done at their public meetings, they do not cut it up into joints as we do an ox, but into small pieces of flesh, or steaks, which they call bantei. The hide of the buffalo is sometimes scalded, scraped, and hung up to dry in their houses where it shrivels and becomes perfectly hard. When wanted for use a piece is chopped off and, being stewed down for a great number of hours in a small quantity of water, forms a rich jelly which, properly seasoned, is esteemed a very delicate dish. The sago (sagu), though common on Sumatra and used occasionally by the natives, is not an article of food of such general use among them as with the inhabitants of many other eastern islands, where it is employed as a substitute for rice. Millet (randa jawa) is also cultivated for food, but not in any considerable quantity. When these several articles of subsistence fail the Sumatran has recourse to those wild roots, herbs, and leaves of trees which the woods abundantly afford in every season without culture, and which the habitual simplicity of his diet teaches him to consider as no very extraordinary circumstance of hardship. Hence it is that famines in this island or, more properly speaking, failures of crops of grain, are never attended with those dreadful consequences which more improved countries and more provident nations experience. CHAPTER 4. AGRICULTURE. RICE, ITS CULTIVATION, ETC. PLANTATIONS OF COCONUT, BETEL-NUT, AND OTHER VEGETABLES FOR DOMESTIC USE. DYE STUFFS. AGRICULTURE. From their domestic economy I am led to take a view of their labours in the field, their plantations and the state of agriculture amongst them, which an ingenious writer esteems the justest criterion of civilisation. RICE. The most important article of cultivation, not in Sumatra alone but throughout the East, is rice. It is the grand material of food on which a hundred millions of the inhabitants of the earth subsist, and although chiefly confined by nature to the regions included between and bordering on the tropics, its cultivation is probably more extensive than that of wheat, which the Europeans are wont to consider as the universal staff of life. In the continent of Asia, as you advance to the northward, you come to the boundary where the plantations of rice disappear and the wheatfields commence; the cold felt in that climate, owing in part to the height of the land, being unfriendly to the production of the former article. Rice (Oryza sativa) whilst in the husk is called padi by the Malays (from whose language the word seems to have found its way to the maritime parts of the continent of India), bras when deprived of the husk, and nasi after it has been boiled; besides which it assumes other names in its various states of growth and preparation. This minuteness of distinction applies also to some other articles of common use, and may be accounted for upon this principle: that amongst people whose general objects of attention are limited, those which do of necessity occupy them are liable to be more the subject of thought and conversation than in more enlightened countries where the ideas of men have an extensive range. The kinds of rice also (whether technically of different species I cannot pronounce) are very numerous, but divided in the first place into the two comprehensive classes of padi ladang or upland, from its growing in high, dry grounds, and padi sawah (vulgarly pronounced sawur or sour) or lowland, from its being planted in marshes; each of which is said to contain ten or fifteen varieties, distinct in shape, size, and colour of the grain, modes of growth, and delicacy of flavour; it being observed that in general the larger-grained rice is not so much prized by the natives as that which is small, when at the same time white and in some degree transparent.* To M. Poivre, in his Travels of a Philosopher, we are indebted for first pointing out these two classes when speaking of the agriculture of Cochin-China. The qualities of the ladang, or upland rice, are held to be superior to those of the sawah, being whiter, more nourishing, better tasted and having the advantage in point of keeping. Its mode of culture too is free from the charge of unhealthiness attributed to the latter, which is of a watery substance, is attended with less increase in boiling, and is subject to a swifter decay; but of this the rate of produce from the seed is much greater, and the certainty of the crops more to be depended on. It is accordingly cheaper and in more common use. The seed of each sort is kept separate by the natives, who assert that they will not grow reciprocally. (*Footnote. The following sorts of dry-ground padi have come under my notice but as the names vary in different districts it is possible that some of these may be repetitions, where there is no striking difference of character: Padi Ebbas, large grain, very common; Andalong, short round grain, grows in whorls or bunches round the stalk, common; Galu, light-coloured, scarce; Sini, small grain, deep coloured, scarce; Iju, light ish colour, scarce; Kuning, deep yellow, crooked and pointed, fine rice; Kukur-ballum, small, much crooked and resembling a dove's claw, from whence the name; light-coloured, highly esteemed for its delicate flavour; Pisang, outer coat light brown, inner red, longer, smaller, and less crooked than the preceding; Bringin, long, flattish, ribbed, pointed, dead yellow; Bujut, shaped like the preceding, but with a tinge of red in the colour; Chariap, short, roundish, reddish yellow; Janggut or bearded, small, narrow, pale brown; Jambi, small, somewhat crooked and pointed, light brown; Laye, gibbous, light-coloured; Musang, long, small, crooked and pointed, deep purple; Pandan, small, light-coloured; Pau, long, crooked and pointed, light yellow; Puyuh, small, delicate, crooked and pointed, bright ochre; Rakkun, roundish grain, resembles the andalong, but larger and deeper colour; Sihong, much resembles the laye in shape and colour; Sutar, short, roundish, bright, reddish brown; Pulut gading or ivory, long, nearly straight, light yellow; Pulut kechil, small, crooked, reddish yellow; Pulut bram, long and rather large grain, purple, when fresh more nearly red; Pulut bram lematong, in shape like the preceding, but of a dead pale colour. Beside these four there is also a black kind of pulut. Samples of most of these have been in my possession for a number of years, and still continue perfectly sound. Of the sorts of rice growing in low grounds I have not specimens. The padi santong, which is small, straight, and light-coloured, is held to be the finest. In the Lampong country they make a distinction of padi krawang and padi jerru, of which I know nothing more than that the former is a month earlier in growth than the latter.) UPLAND RICE. For the cultivation of upland padi the site of woods is universally preferred, and the more ancient the woods the better, on account of the superior richness of the soil; the continual fall and rotting of the leaves forming there a bed of vegetable mould, which the open plains do not afford, being exhausted by the powerful operation of the sun's rays and the constant production of a rank grass called lalang. When this grass, common to all the eastern islands, is kept under by frequent mowing or the grazing of cattle (as is the case near the European settlements) its room is supplied by grass of a finer texture. Many suppose that the same identical species of vegetable undergoes this alteration, as no fresh seeds are sown and the substitution uniformly takes place. But this is an evident mistake as the generic characters of the two are essentially different; the one being the Gramen caricosum and the other the Gramen aciculatum described by Rumphius. The former, which grows to the height of five feet, is remarkable for the whiteness and softness of the down or blossom, and the other for the sharpness of its bearded seeds, which prove extremely troublesome to the legs of those who walk among it.* (*Footnote. Gramen hoc (caricosum) totos occupat campos, nudosque colles tam dense et laete germinans, ut e longinquo haberetur campus oryza consitus, tam luxuriose ac fortiter crescit, ut neque hortos neque sylvas evitet, atque tam vehementer prorepit, ut areae vix depurari ac servari possint, licet quotidie deambulentur...Potissimum amat solum flavum arguillosum. (Gramen aciculatum) Usus ejus fere nullus est, sed hic detegendum est taediosum ludibrium, quod quis habet, si quis per campos vel in sylvis procedat, ubi hoc gramen ad vias publicas crescit, quum praetereuntium vestibus, hoc semen quam maxime inhaeret. Rumphius volume 6 book 10 chapters 8 and 13. M. Poivre describes the plains of Madagascar and Java as covered with a long grass which he calls fatak, and which, from the analogy of the countries in other respects, I should suppose to be the lalang; but he praises it as affording excellent pasturage; whereas in Sumatra it is reckoned the worst, and except when very young it is not edible by the largest cattle; for which reason the carters and drovers are in the practice of setting fire to that which grows on the plains by the roadside, that the young shoots which thereupon shoot up, may afterwards supply food to their buffaloes.) If old woods are not at hand ground covered with that of younger growth, termed balukar, is resorted to; but not, if possible, under the age of four or five years. Vegetation is there so strong that spots which had been perfectly cleared for cultivation will, upon being neglected for a single season, afford shelter to the beasts of the forest; and the same being rarely occupied for two successive years, the face of the country continues to exhibit the same wild appearance, although very extensive tracts are annually covered with fresh plantations. From this it will be seen that, in consequence of the fertility to which it gives occasion, the abundance of wood in the country is not considered by the inhabitants as an inconvenience but the contrary. Indeed I have heard a native prince complain of a settlement made by some persons of a distant tribe in the inland part of his dominions, whom he should be obliged to expel from thence in order to prevent the waste of his old woods. This seemed a superfluous act of precaution in an island which strikes the eye as one general, impervious, and inexhaustible forest. MODE OF CLEARING THE GROUND. On the approach of the dry monsoon (April and May) or in the course of it, the husbandman makes choice of a spot for his ladang, or plantation of upland rice, for that season, and marks it out. Here it must be observed that property in land depends upon occupancy, unless where fruit-bearing trees have been planted, and, as there is seldom any determined boundary between the lands of neighbouring villages, such marks are rarely disturbed. Collecting his family and dependents, he next proceeds to clear the ground. This is an undertaking of immense labour, and would seem to require herculean force, but it is effected by skill and perseverance. The work divides itself into two parts. The first (called tebbas, menebbas) consists in cutting down the brushwood and rank vegetables, which are suffered to dry during an interval of a fortnight, or more or less, according to the fairness of the weather, before they proceed to the second operation (called tebbang, menebbang) of felling the large trees. Their tools, the prang and billiong (the former resembling a bill-hook, and the latter an imperfect adze) are seemingly inadequate to the task, and the saw is unknown in the country. Being regardless of the timber they do not fell the tree near the ground, where the stem is thick, but erect a stage and begin to hew, or chop rather, at the height of ten or twelve, to twenty or thirty feet, where the dimensions are smaller (and sometimes much higher, taking off little more than the head) until it is sufficiently weakened to admit of their pulling it down with rattans made fast to the branches instead of ropes.* And thus by slow degrees the whole is laid low. (*Footnote. A similar mode of felling is described in the Maison rustique de Cayenne.) In some places however a more summary process is attempted. It may be conceived that in the woods the cutting down trees singly is a matter of much difficulty on account of the twining plants which spread from one to the other and connect them strongly together. To surmount this it is not an uncommon practice to cut a number of trees half through, on the same side, and then fix upon one of great bulk at the extremity of the space marked out, which they cut nearly through, and, having disengaged it from these lianas (as they are termed in the western world) determine its fall in such a direction as may produce the effect of its bearing down by its prodigious weight all those trees which had been previously weakened for the purpose. By this much time and labour are saved, and, the object being to destroy and not to save the timber, the rending or otherwise spoiling the stems is of no moment. I could never behold this devastation without a strong sentiment of regret. Perhaps the prejudices of a classical education taught me to respect those aged trees as the habitation or material frame of an order of sylvan deities, who were now deprived of existence by the sacrilegious hand of a rude, undistinguishing savage. But without having recourse to superstition it is not difficult to account for such feelings on the sight of a venerable wood, old, to appearance, as the soil it stood on, and beautiful beyond what pencil can describe, annihilated for the temporary use of the space it occupied. It seemed a violation of nature in the too arbitrary exercise of power. The timber, from its abundance, the smallness of consumption, and its distance in most cases from the banks of navigable rivers, by which means alone it could be transported to any distance, is of no value; and trees whose bulk, height, straightness of stem, and extent of limbs excite the admiration of a traveller, perish indiscriminately. Some of the branches are lopped off, and when these, together with the underwood, are become sufficiently arid, they are set fire to, and the country, for the space of a month or two, is in a general blaze and smoke, until the whole is consumed and the ground effectually cleared. The expiring wood, beneficent to its ungrateful destroyer, fertilises for his use by its ashes and their salts the earth which it so long adorned. Unseasonable wet weather at this period, which sometimes happens, and especially when the business is deferred till the close of the dry or south-east monsoon, whose termination is at best irregular, produces much inconvenience by the delay of burning till the vegetation has had time to renew itself; in which case the spot is commonly abandoned, or, if partially burned, it is not without considerable toil that it can be afterwards prepared for sowing. On such occasions there are imposters ready to make a profit of the credulity of the husbandman who, like all others whose employments expose them to risks, are prone to superstition, by pretending to a power of causing or retarding rain. One of these will receive, at the time of burning the ladangs, a dollar or more from each family in the neighbourhood, under the pretence of ensuring favourable weather for their undertaking. To accomplish this purpose he abstains, or pretends to abstain, for many days and nights from food and sleep, and performs various trifling ceremonies; continuing all the time in the open air. If he espies a cloud gathering he immediately begins to smoke tobacco with great vehemence, walking about with a quick pace and throwing the puffs towards it with all the force of his lungs. How far he is successful it is no difficult matter to judge. His skill, in fact, lies in choosing his time, when there is the greatest prospect of the continuance of fair weather in the ordinary course of nature: but should he fail there is an effectual salvo. He always promises to fulfil his agreement with a Deo volente clause, and so attributes his occasional disappointments to the particular interposition of the deity. The cunning men who, in this and many other instances of conjuration, impose on the simple country people, are always Malayan adventurers, and not unfrequently priests. The planter whose labour has been lost by such interruptions generally finds it too late in the season to begin on another ladang, and the ordinary resource for subsisting himself and family is to seek a spot of sawah ground, whose cultivation is less dependent upon accidental variations of weather. In some districts much confusion in regard to the period of sowing is said to have arisen from a very extraordinary cause. Anciently, say the natives, it was regulated by the stars, and particularly by the appearance (heliacal rising) of the bintang baniak or Pleiades; but after the introduction of the Mahometan religion they were induced to follow the returns of the puisa or great annual fast, and forgot their old rules. The consequence of this was obvious, for the lunar year of the hejrah being eleven days short of the sidereal or solar year the order of the seasons was soon inverted; and it is only astonishing that its inaptness to the purposes of agriculture should not have been immediately discovered. SOWING. When the periodical rains begin to fall, which takes place gradually about October, the planter assembles his neighbours (whom he assists in turn), and with the aid of his whole family proceeds to sow his ground, endeavouring to complete the task in the course of one day. In order to ensure success he fixes, by the priest's assistance, on a lucky day, and vows the sacrifice of a kid if his crop should prove favourable; the performance of which is sacredly observed, and is the occasion of a feast in every family after harvest. The manner of sowing (tugal-menugal) is this. Two or three men enter the plantation, as it is usual to call the padi-field, holding in each hand sticks about five feet long and two inches diameter, bluntly pointed, with which, striking them into the ground as they advance, they make small, shallow holes, at the distance of about five inches from each other. These are followed by the women and elder children with small baskets containing the seed-grain (saved with care from the choicest of the preceding crop) of which they drop four or five grains into every hole, and, passing on, are followed by the younger children who with their feet (in the use of which the natives are nearly as expert as with their hands) cover them lightly from the adjacent earth, that the seed may not be too much exposed to the birds, which, as might be expected, often prove destructive foes. The ground, it should be observed, has not been previously turned up by any instrument of the hoe or plough kind, nor would the stumps and roots of trees remaining in it admit of the latter being worked; although employed under other circumstances, as will hereafter appear. If rain succeeds the padi is above ground in four or five days; but by an unexpected run of dry weather it is sometimes lost, and the field sowed a second time. When it has attained a month or six weeks' growth it becomes necessary to clear it of weeds (siang-menyiang), which is repeated at the end of two months or ten weeks; after which the strength it has acquired is sufficient to preserve it from injury in that way. Huts are now raised in different parts of the plantation, from whence a communication is formed over the whole by means of rattans, to which are attached scarecrows, rattles, clappers, and other machines for frightening away the birds, in the contrivance of which they employ incredible pains and ingenuity; so disposing them that a child, placed in the hut, shall be able, with little exertion, to create a loud clattering noise to a great extent; and on the borders of the field are placed at intervals a species of windmill fixed on poles which, on the inexperienced traveller, have an effect as terrible as those encountered by the knight of La Mancha. Such precautions are indispensable for the protection of the corn, when in the ear, against the numerous flights of the pipi, a small bird with a light-brown body, white head, and bluish beak, rather less than the sparrow, which in its general appearance and habits it resembles. Several of these lighting at once upon a stalk of padi, and bearing it down, soon clear it of its produce, and thus if unmolested destroy whole crops. At the time of sowing the padi it is a common practice to sow also, in the interstices, and in the same manner, jagong or maize, which, growing up faster and ripening before it (in little more than three months) is gathered without injury to the former. It is also customary to raise in the same ground a species of momordica, the fruit of which comes forward in the course of two months. REAPING. The nominal time allowed from the sowing to the reaping of the crop is five lunar months and ten days; but from this it must necessarily vary with the circumstances of the season. When it ripens, if all at the same time, the neighbours are again summoned to assist, and entertained for the day: if a part only ripens first the family begin to reap it, and proceed through the whole by degrees. In this operation, called tuwei-menuwei from the instrument used, they take off the head of corn (the term of ear not being applicable to the growth of this plant) about six inches below the grain, the remaining stalk or halm being left as of no value. The tuwei is a piece of wood about six inches long, usually of carved work and about two inches diameter, in which is fixed lengthwise a blade of four or five inches, secured at the extremes by points bent to a right angle and entering the wood. To this is added a piece of very small bamboo from two to three inches long, fixed at right angles across the back of the wood, with a notch for receiving it, and pinned through by a small peg. This bamboo rests in the hollow of the hand, one end of the piece of wood passing between the two middle fingers, with the blade outwards; the natives always cutting FROM them.* With this in the right hand and a small basket slung over the left shoulder, they very expeditiously crop the heads of padi one by one, bringing the stalk to the blade with their two middle fingers, and passing them, when cut, from the right hand to the left. As soon as the left hand is full the contents are placed in regular layers in the basket (sometimes tied up in a little sheaf), and from thence removed to larger baskets, in which the harvest is to be conveyed to the dusun or village, there to be lodged in the tangkian or barns, which are buildings detached from the dwelling-houses, raised like them from the ground, widening from the floor towards the roof, and well lined with boards or coolitcoy. In each removal care is taken to preserve the regularity of the layers, by which means it is stowed to advantage, and any portion of it readily taken out for use. (*Footnote. The inhabitants of Menangkabau are said to reap with an instrument resembling a sickle.) LOW-GROUND RICE. Sawahs are plantations of padi in low wet ground, which, during the growth of the crop, in the rainy season between the months of October and March,* are for the most part overflowed to the depth of six inches or a foot, beyond which latter the water becomes prejudicial. Level marshes, of firm bottom, under a moderate stratum of mud, and not liable to deep stagnant water, are the situations preferred; the narrower hollows, though very commonly used for small plantations, being more liable to accidents from torrents and too great depth of water, which the inhabitants have rarely industry enough to regulate to advantage by permanent embankments. They are not however ignorant of such expedients, and works are sometimes met with, constructed for the purpose chiefly of supplying the deficiency of rain to several adjoining sawahs by means of sluices, contrived with no small degree of skill and attention to levels. (*Footnote. In the Transactions of the Batavian Society the following mention is made of the cultivation of rice in Java. The padi sawa is sown in low watered grounds in the month of March, transplanted in April, and reaped in August. The padi tipar is sown in high ploughed lands in November, and reaped in March (earlier in the season than I could have supposed.) when sown where woods have been recently cut down, or in the clefts of the hills (klooven van het gebergte) it is named padi gaga. Volume 1 page 27.) In new ground, after clearing it from the brushwood, reeds, and aquatic vegetables with which the marshes, when neglected, are overrun, and burning them at the close of the dry season, the soil is, in the beginning of the wet, prepared for culture by different modes of working. In some places a number of buffaloes, whose greatest enjoyment consists in wading and rolling in mud, are turned in, and these by their motions contribute to give it a more uniform consistence as well as enrich it by their dung. In other parts less permanently moist the soil is turned up, either with a wooden instrument between a hoe and a pickaxe, or with the plough, of which they use two kinds; their own, drawn by one buffalo, extremely simple, and the wooden share of it doing little more than scratch the ground to the depth of six inches; and one they have borrowed from the Chinese, drawn either with one or two buffaloes, very light, and the share more nearly resembling ours, turning the soil over as it passes and making a narrow furrow. In sawahs however the surface has in general so little consistence that no furrow is perceptible, and the plough does little more than loosen the stiff mud to some depth, and cut the roots of the grass and weeds, from which it is afterwards cleared by means of a kind of harrow or rake, being a thick plank of heavy wood with strong wooden teeth and loaded with earth where necessary. This they contrive to drag along the surface for the purpose at the same time of depressing the rising spots and filling up the hollow ones. The whole being brought as nearly as possible to a level, that the water may lie equally upon it the sawah is, for the more effectual securing of this essential point, divided into portions nearly square or oblong (called piring, which signifies a dish) by narrow banks raised about eighteen inches and two feet wide. These drying become harder than the rest, confine the water, and serve the purpose of footways throughout the plantation. When there is more water in one division than another small passages are cut through the dams to produce an equality. Through these apertures water is also in some instances introduced from adjacent rivers or reservoirs, where such exist, and the season requires their aid. The innumerable springs and rivulets with which this country abounds render unnecessary the laborious processes by which water is raised and supplied to the rice grounds in the western part of India, where the soil is sandy: yet still the principal art of the planter consists, and is required, in the management of this article; to furnish it to the ground in proper and moderate quantities and to carry it off from time to time by drains; for if suffered to be long stagnant it would occasion the grain to rot. TRANSPLANTATION. Whilst the sawahs have been thus in preparation to receive the padi a small, adjacent, and convenient spot of good soil has been chosen, in which the seed-grain is sown as thick as it can well lie to the ground, and is then often covered with layers of lalang (long grass, instead of straw) to protect the grain from the birds, and perhaps assist the vegetation. When it has grown to the height of from five to eight inches, or generally at the end of forty days from the time of sowing, it is taken up in showery weather and transplanted to the sawah, where holes are made four or five inches asunder to receive the plants. If they appear too forward the tops are cropped off. A supply is at the same time reserved in the seed-plots to replace such as may chance to fail upon removal. These plantations, in the same manner as the ladangs, it is necessary to cleanse from weeds at least twice in the first two or three months; but no maize or other seed is sown among the crop. When the padi begins to form the ear or to blossom, as the natives express it, the water is finally drawn off, and at the expiration of four months from the time of transplanting it arrives at maturity. The manner of guarding against the birds is similar to what has been already described; but the low ground crop has a peculiar and very destructive enemy in the rats, which sometimes consume the whole of it, especially when the plantation has been made somewhat out of season; to obviate which evil the inhabitants of a district sow by agreement pretty nearly at the same time; whereby the damage is less perceptible. In the mode of reaping likewise there is nothing different. Upon the conclusion of the harvest it is an indispensable duty to summon the neighbouring priests to the first meal that is made of the new rice, when an entertainment is given according to the circumstances of the family. Should this ceremony be omitted the crop would be accursed (haram) nor could the whole household expect to outlive the season. This superstition has been by the Mahometans judiciously engrafted on the stock of credulity in the country people. The same spot of low ground is for the most part used without regular intermission for several successive years, the degree of culture they bestow by turning up the soil and the overflowing water preserving its fertility. They are not however insensible to the advantage of occasional fallows. In consequence of this continued use the value of the sawah grounds differs from that of ladangs, the former being, in the neighbourhood of populous towns particularly, distinct property, and of regularly ascertained value. At Natal for example those consisting between one and two acres sell for sixteen to twenty Spanish dollars. In the interior country, where the temperature of the air is more favourable to agriculture, they are said to sow the same spot with ladang rice for three successive years; and there also it is common to sow onions as soon as the stubble is burned off. Millet (randa jawa) is sown at the same time with the padi. In the country of Manna, southward of Bencoolen, a progress in the art of cultivation is discovered, superior to what appears in almost any other part of the island; the Batta country perhaps alone excepted. Here may be seen pieces of land in size from five to fifteen acres, regularly ploughed and harrowed. The difference is thus accounted for. It is the most populous district in that southern part, with the smallest extent of sea-coast. The pepper plantations and ladangs together having in a great measure exhausted the old woods in the accessible parts of the country, and the inhabitants being therein deprived of a source of fertility which nature formerly supplied, they must either starve, remove to another district, or improve by cultivation the spot where they reside. The first is contrary to the inherent principle that teaches man to preserve life by every possible means: their attachment to their native soil, or rather their veneration for the sepulchres of their ancestors, is so strong that to remove would cost them a struggle almost equal to the pangs of death: necessity therefore, the parent of art and industry, compels them to cultivate the earth. RATE OF PRODUCE. The produce of the grounds thus tilled is reckoned at thirty for one; from those in the ordinary mode about a hundred fold on the average, the ladangs yielding about eighty, and the sawahs a hundred and twenty. Under favourable circumstances I am assured the rate of produce is sometimes so high as a hundred and forty fold. The quantity sown by a family is usually from five to ten bamboo measures or gallons. These returns are very extraordinary compared with those of our wheat-fields in Europe, which I believe seldom exceed fifteen, and are often under ten. To what is this disproportion owing? to the difference of grain, as rice may be in its nature extremely prolific? to the more genial influence of a warmer climate? or to the earth's losing by degrees her fecundity from an excessive cultivation? Rather than to any of these causes I am inclined to attribute it to the different process followed in sowing. In England the saving of labour and promoting of expedition are the chief objects, and in order to effect these the grain is almost universally scattered in the furrows; excepting where the drill has been introduced. The Sumatrans, who do not calculate the value of their own labour or that of their domestics on such occasions, make holes in the ground, as has been described, and drop into each a few grains*; or, by a process still more tedious, raise the seed in beds and then plant it out. Mr. Charles Miller, in a paper published in the Philosophical Transactions, has shown us the wonderful effects of successive transplantation. How far it might be worth the English farmer's while to bestow more labour in the business of sowing the grain, with the view of a proportionate increase in the rate of produce, I am not competent, nor is it to my present purpose, to form a judgment. Possibly as the advantage might be found to lie rather in the quantity of grain saved in the sowing than gained in the reaping, it would not answer his purpose; for although half the quantity of seed-corn bears reciprocally the same proportion to the usual produce that double the latter does to the usual allowance of seed, yet in point of profit the scale is different. To augment this it is of much more importance to increase the produce from a given quantity of land than to diminish the quantity of grain necessary for sowing it. (*Footnote. In an address from the Bath Agricultural Society dated 12th October 1795 it is strongly recommended to the cultivators of land (on account of the then existing scarcity of grain) to adopt the method of dibbling wheat. The holes to be made either by the common dibble, or with an implement having four or more points in a frame, at the distance of about four inches every way, and to the depth of an inch and a half; dropping TWO grains into every hole. The man who dibbles is to move backwards and to be followed by two or three women or children, who drop in the grains. A bush-hurdle, drawn across the furrows by a single horse, finishes the business. About six pecks of seed-wheat per acre are saved by this method. The expense of dibbling, dropping, and covering is reckoned in Norfolk at about six shillings per acre. Times Newspaper of 20th October 1795.) FERTILITY OF SOIL. Notwithstanding the received opinion of the fertility of what are called the Malay Islands, countenanced by the authority of M. Poivre and other celebrated writers, and still more by the extraordinary produce of grain, as above stated, I cannot help saying that I think the soil of the western coast of Sumatra is in general rather sterile than rich. It is for the most part a stiff red clay, burned nearly to the state of a brick where it is exposed to the influence of the sun. The small proportion of the whole that is cultivated is either ground from which old woods have been recently cleared, whose leaves had formed a bed of vegetable earth some inches deep, or else ravines into which the scanty mould of the adjoining hills has been washed by the annual torrents of rain. It is true that in many parts of the coast there are, between the cliffs and the sea-beach, plains varying in breadth and extent of a sandy soil, probably left by the sea and more or less mixed with earth in proportion to the time they have remained uncovered by the waters; and such are found to prove the most favourable spots for raising the productions of other parts of the world. But these are partial and insufficient proofs of fertility. Every person who has attempted to make a garden of any kind nor Fort Marlborough must well know how ineffectual a labour it would prove to turn up with the spade a piece of ground adopted at random. It becomes necessary for this purpose to form an artificial soil of dung, ashes, rubbish, and such other materials as can be procured. From these alone he can expect to raise the smallest supply of vegetables for the table. I have seen many extensive plantations of coconut, pinang, lime, and coffee-trees, laid out at a considerable expense by different gentlemen, and not one do I recollect to have succeeded; owing as it would seem to the barrenness of the soil, although covered with long grass. These disappointments have induced the Europeans almost entirely to neglect agriculture. The more industrious Chinese colonists, who work the ground with indefatigable pains, and lose no opportunity of saving and collecting manure, are rather more successful; yet have I heard one of the most able cultivators among this people, who, by the dint of labour and perseverance, had raised what then appeared to me a delightful garden, designed for profit as well as pleasure, declare that his heart was almost broken in struggling against nature; the soil being so ungrateful that, instead of obtaining an adequate return for his trouble and expense, the undertaking was likely to render him a bankrupt; and which he would inevitably have been but for assistance afforded him by the East India Company.* (*Footnote. Some particular plants, especially the tea, Key Sun used to tell me he considered as his children: his first care in the morning and his last in the evening was to tend and cherish them. I heard with concern of his death soon after the first publication of this work, and could have wished the old man had lived to know that the above small tribute of attention had been paid to his merits as a gardener. In a letter received from the late ingenious Mr. Charles Campbell, belonging to the medical establishment of Fort Marlborough, whose communications I shall have future occasion to notice, he writes on the 29th of March 1802: "I must not omit to say a word about my attempts to cultivate the land. The result of all my labours in that way was disappointment almost as heartbreaking as that of the unlucky Chinaman, whose example however did not deter me. After many vexations I descended from the plains into the ravines, and there met with the success denied me on the elevated land. In one of these, through which runs a small rivulet emptying itself into the lake of Dusun Besar, I attempted a plantation of coffee, where there are now upwards of seven thousand plants firmly rooted and putting out new leaves." this cultivation has since been so much increased as to become an important article of commerce. It should at the same time be acknowledged that our acquaintance with the central and eastern parts of the island is very imperfect, and that much fertile land may be found beyond the range of mountains.) The natives, it is true, without much or any cultivation raise several useful trees and plants; but they are in very small quantities, and immediately about their villages, where the ground is fertilised in spite of their indolence by the common sweepings of their houses and streets and the mere vicinity of their buildings. I have often had occasion to observe in young plantations that those few trees which surrounded the house of the owner or the hut of the keeper considerably over-topped their brethren of the same age. Every person at first sight, and on a superficial view of the Malayan countries, pronounces them the favourites of nature where she has lavished her bounties with a profusion unknown in other regions, and laments the infatuation of the people, who neglect to cultivate the finest soil in the world. But I have scarcely known one who, after a few years' residence, has not entirely altered his opinion. Certain it is that in point of external appearance they may challenge all others to comparison. In many parts of Sumatra, rarely trodden by human foot, scenes present themselves adapted to raise the sublimest sentiments in minds susceptible of the impression. But how rarely are they contemplated by minds of that temper! and yet it is alone: For such the rivers dash their foaming tides, The mountain swells, the vale subsides, The stately wood detains the wandering sight, And the rough barren rock grows pregnant with delight. Even when there ARE inhabitants, to how little purpose as it respects them has she been profuse in ornament! In passing through places where my fancy was charmed with more luxuriant, wild, and truly picturesque views than I had ever before met with, I could not avoid regretting that a country so captivating to the eye should be allotted to a race of people who seem totally insensible of its beauties. But it is time to return from this excursion and pursue the progress of the husbandman through his remaining labours. MODES OF THRESHING. Different nations have adopted various methods of separating the grain from the ear. The most ancient we read of was that of driving cattle over the sheaves in order to trample it out. Large planks, blocks of marble, heavy carriages, have been employed in later times for this end. In most parts of Europe the flail is now in use, but in England begins to be superseded by the powerful and expeditious but complicated threshing machine. The Sumatrans have a mode differing from all these. The bunches of padi in the ear being spread on mats, they rub out the grain between and under their feet; supporting themselves in common for the more easy performance of this labour by holding with their hands a bamboo placed horizontally over their heads. Although, by going always unshod, their feet are extremely callous, and therefore adapted to the exercise, yet the workmen when closely tasked by their masters sometimes continue shuffling till the blood issues from their soles. This is the universal practice throughout the island. After treading out or threshing the next process is to winnow the corn (mengirei), which is done precisely in the same manner as practised by us. Advantage being taken of a windy day, it is poured out from the sieve or fan; the chaff dispersing whilst the heavier grain falls to the ground. This simple mode seems to have been followed in all ages and countries, though now giving place, in countries where the saving of labour is a principal object, to mechanical contrivances. In order to clear the grain from the husk, by which operation the padi acquires the name of rice (bras), and loses one half of its measured quantity, two bamboos of the former yielding only one of the latter, it is first spread out in the sunshine to dry (jumur), and then pounded in large wooden mortars (lesung) with heavy pestles (alu) made of a hard species of wood, until the outer coat is completely separated from it, when it is again fanned. This business falls principally to the lot of the females of the family, two of whom commonly work at the same mortar. In some places (but not frequently) it is facilitated by the use of a lever, to the end of which a short pestle or pounder is fixed; and in others by a machine which is a hollow cylinder or frustum of a cone, formed of heavy wood, placed upon a solid block of the same diameter, the contiguous surfaces of each being previously cut in notches or small grooves, and worked backwards and forwards horizontally by two handles or transverse arms; a spindle fixed in the centre of the lower cylinder serving as an axis to the upper or hollow one. Into this the grain is poured, and it is thus made to perform the office of the hopper at the same time with that of the upper, or movable stone, in our mills. In working it is pressed downwards to increase the friction, which is sufficient to deprive the padi of its outer coating. The rice is now in a state for sale, exportation, or laying up. To render it perfectly clean for eating, a point to which they are particularly attentive, it is put a second time into a lesung of smaller size, and, being sufficiently pounded without breaking the grains, it is again winnowed by tossing it dexterously in a flat sieve until the pure and spotless corns are separated from every particle of bran. They next wash it in cold water and then proceed to boil it in the manner before described. RICE AS AN ARTICLE OF TRADE. As an article of trade the Sumatran rice seems to be of a more perishable nature than that of some other countries, the upland rice not being expected to keep longer than twelve months, and the lowland showing signs of decay after six. At Natal there is a practice of putting a quantity of leaves of a shrub called lagundi (Vitex trifolia) amongst it in granaries, or the holds of vessels, on the supposition of its possessing the property of destroying or preventing the generation of weevils that usually breed in it. In Bengal it is said the rice intended for exportation is steeped in hot water whilst still in the husk, and afterwards dried by exposure to the sun; owing to which precaution it will continue sound for two or three years, and is on that account imported for garrison store at the European settlements. If retained in the state of padi it will keep very long without damaging.* The country people lay it up unthreshed from the stalk and beat it out (as we render their word tumbuk) from time to time as wanted for use or sale. (*Footnote. I have in my possession specimens of a variety of species which were transmitted to me twelve years ago and are still perfectly sound.) The price of this necessary of life differs considerably throughout the island, not only from the circumstances of the season but according to the general demand at the places where it is purchased, the degree of industry excited by such demand, and the aptitude of the country to supply it. The northern parts of the coast under the influence of the Achinese produce large quantities; particularly Susu and Tampat-tuan, where it is (or used to be) purchased at the rate of thirty bamboos (gallons) for the Spanish dollar, and exported either to Achin or to the settlement of Natal for the use of the Residency of Fort Marlborough. At Natal also, and for the same ultimate destination, is collected the produce of the small island of Nias, whose industrious inhabitants, living themselves upon the sweet-potato (Convolvulus batatas), cultivate rice for exportation only, encouraged by the demand from the English and (what were) the Dutch factories. Not any is exported from Natal of its actual produce; a little from Ayer Bungi; more from the extensive but neglected districts of Pasaman and Masang, and many cargoes from the country adjacent to Padang. Our pepper settlements to the northward of Fort Marlborough, from Moco-moco to Laye inclusive, export each a small quantity, but from thence southward to Kroi supplies are required for the subsistence of the inhabitants, the price varying from twelve to four bamboos according to the season. At our head settlement the consumption of the civil and military establishments, the company's LABOURERS, together with the Chinese and Malayan settlers, so much exceeds the produce of the adjoining districts (although exempted from any obligation to cultivate pepper) that there is a necessity for importing a quantity from the islands of Java and Bally, and from Bengal about three to six thousand bags annually.* (*Footnote. This has reference to the period between 1770 and 1780 generally. So far as respects the natives there has been no material alteration.) The rice called pulut or bras se-pulut (Oryza gelatinosa), of which mention has been made in the list above, is in its substance of a very peculiar nature, and not used as common food but with the addition of coconut-kernel in making a viscous preparation called lemang, which I have seen boiled in a green bamboo, and other juadahs or friandises. It is commonly distinguished into the white, red, and black sorts, among which the red appears to be the most esteemed. The black chiefly is employed by the Chinese colonists at Batavia and Fort Marlborough in the composition of a fermented liquor called bram or brum, of which the basis is the juice extracted from a species of palm. COCONUT. The coconut-tree, kalapa, nior (Cocos nucifera), may be esteemed the next important object of cultivation from the uses to which its produce is applied; although by the natives of Sumatra it is not converted to such a variety of purposes as in the Maldives and those countries where nature has been less bountiful in other gifts. Its value consists principally in the kernel of the nut, the consumption of which is very great, being an essential ingredient in the generality of their dishes. From this also, but in a state of more maturity, is procured the oil in common use near the sea-coast, both for anointing the hair, in cookery, and for burning in lamps. In the interior country other vegetable oils are employed, and light is supplied by a kind of links made of dammar or resin. A liquor, commonly known in India by the name of toddy, is extracted from this as well as from other trees of the palm-kind. Whilst quite fresh it is sweet and pleasant to the taste, and is called nira. After four and twenty hours it acidulates, ferments, and becomes intoxicating, in which state it is called tuak. Being distilled with molasses and other ingredients it yields the spirit called arrack. In addition to these but of trifling importance are the cabbage or succulent pith at the head of the tree, which however can be obtained only when it is cut down, and the fibres of the leaves, of which the natives form their brooms. The stem is never used for building nor any carpenter's purposes in a country where fine timber so much abounds. The fibrous substance of the husk is not there manufactured into cordage, as in the west of India where it is known by the name of coir; rattans and eju (a substance to be hereafter described) being employed for that purpose. The shell of the nut is but little employed as a domestic utensil, the lower class of people preferring the bamboo and the labu (Cucurbita lagenaria) and the better sort being possessed of coarse chinaware. If the filaments surrounding the stem are anywhere manufactured into cloth, as has been asserted, it must be in countries that do not produce cotton, which is a material beyond all comparison preferable: besides that certain kind of trees, as before observed, afford in their soft and pliable inner bark what may be considered as a species of cloth ready woven to their hands. This tree in all its species, stages, fructification, and appropriate uses has been so elaborately and justly described by many writers, especially the celebrated Rumphius in his Herbarium Amboinense, and Van Rheede in his Hortus Malabaricus, that to attempt it here would be an unnecessary repetition, and I shall only add a few local observations on its growth. Every dusun is surrounded with a number of fruit-bearing trees, and especially the coconut where the soil and temperature will allow them to grow, and, near the bazaars or sea-port towns, where the concourse of inhabitants is in general much greater than in the country, there are always large plantations of them to supply the extraordinary demand. The tree thrives best in a low, sandy soil, near the sea, where it will produce fruit in four or five years; whilst in the clayey ground it seldom bears in less than seven to ten years. As you recede from the coast the growth is proportionably slower, owing to the greater degree of cold among the hills; and it must attain there nearly its full height before it is productive, whereas in the plains a child can generally reach its first fruit from the ground. Here, said a countryman at Laye, if I plant a coconut or durian-tree I may expect to reap the fruit of it; but in Labun (an inland district) I should only plant for my great-grandchildren. In some parts where the land is particularly high, neither these, the betel-nut, nor pepper-vines, will produce fruit at all. It has been remarked by some writer that the date-bearing palm-tree and the coconut are never found to flourish in the same country. However this may hold good as a general assertion it is a fact that not one tree of that species is known to grow in Sumatra, where the latter, and many others of the palm kind, so much abound. All the small low islands which lie off the western coast are skirted near the sea-beach so thickly with coconut-trees that their branches touch each other, whilst the interior parts, though not on a higher level, are entirely free from them. This beyond a doubt is occasioned by the accidental floating of the nuts to the shore, where they are planted by the hand of nature, shoot up, and bear fruit; which, falling when it arrives at maturity, causes a successive reproduction. Where uninhabited, as is the case with Pulo Mego, one of the southernmost, the nuts become a prey to the rats and squirrels unless when occasionally disturbed by the crews of vessels which go thither to collect cargoes for market on the mainland. In the same manner, as we are told by Flacourt,* they have been thrown upon a coast of Madagascar and are not there indigenous; as I have been also assured by a native. Yet it appears that the natives call it voaniou, which is precisely the name by which it is familiarly known in Sumatra, being buah-nior; and v being uniformly substituted for b, and f for p, in the numerous Malayan words occurring in the language of the former island. On the other hand the singular production to which the appellation of sea-coconut (kalapa laut) has been given, and which is known to be the fruit of a species of borassus growing in one of the Seychelles Islands,** not far from Madagascar, are sometimes floated as far as the Malayan coasts, where they are supposed to be natives of the ocean and were held in high veneration for their miraculous effects in medicine until, about the year 1772, a large cargo of them was brought to Bencoolen by a French vessel, when their character soon fell with their price. (*Footnote. Histoire de l'isle Madagascar page 127.) (*Footnote. See a particular description of the sea-coconut with plates in the Voyage a la Nouvelle Guinee par Sonnerat page 3.) PINANG OR BETEL-NUT. The pinang (Areca catechu L.) or betel-nut-tree (as it is usually, but improperly, called, the betel being a different plant) is in its mode of growth and appearance not unlike the coconut. It is however straighter in the stem, smaller in proportion to the height, and more graceful. The fruit, of which the varieties are numerous (such as pinang betul, pinang ambun, and pinang wangi), is in its outer coat about the size of a plum; the nut something less than that of the nutmeg but rounder. This is eaten with the leaf of the sirih or betel (Piper betel L.) a claiming plant whose leaf has a strong aromatic flavour and other stimulating additions; a practice that shall be hereafter described. Of both of these the natives make large plantations. BAMBOO. In respect to its numerous and valuable uses the bambu or bamboo-cane (Arundo bambos) holds a conspicuous rank amongst the vegetables of the island, though I am not aware that it is anywhere cultivated for domestic purposes, growing wild in most parts in great abundance. In the Batta country, and perhaps some other inland districts, they plant a particular species very thickly about their kampongs or fortified villages as a defence against the attacks of an enemy; the mass of hedge which they form being almost impenetrable. It grows in common to the thickness of a man's leg, and some sorts to that of the thigh. The joints are from fifteen to twenty inches asunder, and the length about twenty to forty feet. In all manner of building it is the chief material, both in its whole state, and split into laths and otherwise, as has already appeared in treating of the houses of the natives; and the various other modes of employing it will be noticed either directly or incidentally in the course of the work. SUGAR-CANE. The sugar-cane (tubbu) is very generally cultivated, but not in large quantities, and more frequently for the sake of chewing the juicy reed, which they consider as a delicacy, than for the manufacture of sugar. Yet this is not unattended to for home consumption, especially in the northern districts. By the Europeans and Chinese large plantations have been set on foot near Bencoolen, and worked from time to time with more or less effect; but in no degree to rival those of the Dutch at Batavia, from whence in time of peace the exportation of sugar (gula), sugar-candy (gula batu) and arrack is very considerable. In the southern parts of the island, and particularly in the district of Manna, every village is provided with two or three machines of a peculiar construction for squeezing the cane; but the inhabitants are content with boiling the juice to a kind of syrup. In the Lampong country they manufacture from the liquor yielded by a species of palm-tree a moist, clammy, imperfect kind of sugar, called jaggri in most parts of India.* (*Footnote. This word is evidently the shakar of the Persians, the Latin saccharum, and our sugar.) JAGGRI. This palm, named in Sumatra anau, and by the eastern Malays gomuto, is the Borassus gomutus of Loureiro, the Saguerus pinnatus of the Batavian Transactions, and the cleophora of Gaertner. Its leaves are long and narrow and, though naturally tending to a point, are scarcely ever found perfect, but always jagged at the end. The fruit grows in bunches of thirty or forty together, on strings three or four feet long, several of which hang from one shoot. In order to procure the nira or toddy (held in higher estimation than that from the coconut-tree), one of these shoots for fructification is cut off a few inches from the stem, the remaining part is tied up and beaten, and an incision is then made, from which the liquor distils into a vessel or bamboo closely fastened beneath. This is replaced every twenty-four hours. The anau palm produces also (beside a little sago) the remarkable substance called iju and gomuto, exactly resembling coarse black horse-hair, and used for making cordage of a very excellent kind, as well as for many other purposes, being nearly incorruptible. It encompasses the stem of the tree, and is seemingly bound to it by thicker fibres or twigs, of which the natives made pens for writing. Toddy is likewise procured from the lontar or Borassus flabellifer, the tala of the Hindus. SAGO. The rambiya, puhn sagu, or proper sago tree, is also of the palm kind. Its trunk contains a farinaceous and glutinous pith that, being soaked, dried, and granulated, becomes the sago of our shops, and has been too frequently and accurately described (by Rumphius in particular, Volume 1 chapters 17 and 18, and by M. Poivre) to need a repetition here. NIBONG. The nibong (Caryota urens), another species of palm, grows wild in such abundance as not to need cultivation. The stem is tall, slender, and straight, and, being of a hard texture on the outer part, it is much used for posts in building the slight houses of the country, as well as for paling of a stronger kind than the bamboo usually employed. Withinside it is fibrous and soft and, when hollowed out, being of the nature of a pipe, is well adapted to the purpose of gutters or channels to convey water. The cabbage, as it is termed, or pith at the head of the tree (the germ of the foliage) is eaten as a delicacy, and preferred to that of the coconut. NIPAH. The nipah (Cocos nypa, Lour.) a low species of palm, is chiefly valuable for its leaves, which are much used as thatch for the roofs of houses. The pulpy kernels of the fruit (called buah atap) are preserved as a sweetmeat, but are entirely without flavour. CYCAS. The paku bindu (Cycas circinalis) has the general appearance of a young, or rather dwarf coconut-tree, and like that and the nibong produces a cabbage that is much esteemed as a culinary vegetable. The tender shoots are likewise eaten. The stem is short and knobby, the lower part of each branch (if branches they may be called) prickly, and the blossom yellow. The term paku, applied to it by the Malays, shows that they consider it as partaking of the nature of the fern (filix) and Rumphius, who names it Sayor calappa and Olus calappoides, describes it as an arborescent species of osmunda. It is well depicted in Volume 1 table 22. MAIZE. The maize or turkey-corn (Zea mays), called jagong, though very generally sown, is not cultivated in quantities as an article of food, excepting in the Batta country. The ears are plucked whilst green, and, being slightly roasted on the embers, are eaten as a delicacy. Chili or cayenne pepper (capsicum), called improperly lada panjang or long pepper, and also lada merah, red pepper, which, in preference to the common or black pepper, is used in their curries and with almost every article of their food, always finds a place in their irregular and inartificial gardens. To these indeed their attention is very little directed, in consequence of the liberality with which nature, unsolicited, supplies their wants. Turmeric (curcuma) is a root of general use. Of this there are two kinds, the one called kunyit merah, an indispensable ingredient in their curries, pilaws, and sundry dishes; the other, kunyit tummu (a variety with coloured leaves and a black streak running along the midrib) is esteemed a good yellow dye, and is sometimes employed in medicine. Ginger (Amomum zinziber) is planted in small quantities. Of this also there are two kinds, alia jai (Zinziber majus) and alia padas (Zinziber minus), familiarly called se-pade or se-pudde, from a word signifying that pungent acrid taste in spices which we express by the vague term hot. The tummu (Costus arabicus) and lampuyang (Amomum zerumbet) are found both in the wild and cultivated state, being used medicinally; as is also the galangale (Kaempferia galanga). The coriander, called katumbar, and the cardamum, puah lako, grow in abundance. Of the puah (amomum) they reckon many species, the most common of which has very large leaves, resembling those of the plantain and possessing an aromatic flavour not unlike that of the bay tree. The jintan or cumin-seed (cuminum) is sometimes an ingredient in curries. Of the morunggei or kelor (Guilandina moringa L. Hyperanthera moringa Wilden.), a tall shrub with pinnated leaves, the root has the appearance, flavour, and pungency of the horse-radish, and the long pods are dressed as a culinary vegetable; as are also the young shoots of the pringgi (Cucurbita pepo) various sorts of the lapang or cucumber, and of the lobak or radish. The inei or henna of the Arabians (Lawsonia inermis) is a shrub with small light-green leaves, yielding an expressed juice with which the natives tinge the nails of their hands and feet. Ampalas (Delima sarmentosa and Ficus ampelos) is a shrub whose blossom resembles that of our hawthorn in appearance and smell. Its leaf has an extraordinary roughness, on which account it is employed to give the last fine polish to carvings in wood ivory, particularly the handles and sheaths of their krises, on which they bestow much labour. The leaf of the sipit also, a climbing species of fig, having the same quality, is put to the same use. Ganja or hemp (cannabis) is extensively cultivated, not for the purpose of making rope, to which they never apply it, but to make an intoxicating preparation called bang, which they smoke in pipes along with tobacco. In other parts of India a drink is prepared by bruising the blossoms, young leaves, and tender parts of the stalk. Small plantations of tobacco, which the natives call tambaku, are met with in every part of the country. The leaves are cut whilst green into fine shreds, and afterwards dried in the sun. The species is the same as the Virginian, and, were the quantity increased and people more expert in the method of curing it, a manufacture and trade of considerable importance might be established. PULAS TWINE. The kaluwi is a species of urtica or nettle of which excellent twine called pulas is made. It grows to the height of about four feet, has a stem imperfectly ligneous, without branches. When cut down, dried, and beaten, the rind is stripped off and then twisted as we do the hemp. It affords me great satisfaction to learn that the manufacture of rope from this useful plant has lately attracted the attention of the Company's Government, and that a considerable nursery of the kaluwi has been established in the Botanic Garden at Calcutta, under the zealous and active management of Dr. Roxburgh, who expresses his opinion that so soon as a method shall be discovered of removing a viscid matter found to adhere to the fibres the kaluwi hemp, or pulas, will supersede every other material. The bagu-tree (Gnetum gnemon, L.) abounds on the southern coast of the island, where its bark is beaten, like hemp, and the twine manufactured from it is employed in the construction of large fishing nets. The young leaves of the tree are dressed in curries. In the island of Nias they make a twine of the baru-tree (Hibiscus tiliaceus), which is afterwards woven into a coarse cloth for bags. From the pisang (musa) a kind of sewing-thread is procured by stripping filaments from the midribs of the leaves, as well as from the stem. In some places this thread is worked in the loom. The kratau, a dwarf species of mulberry (morus, foliis profunde incisis) is planted for the food of the silkworms, which they rear, but not to any great extent, and the raw silk produced from them seems of but an indifferent quality. The samples I have seen were white instead of yellow, in large, flat cakes, which would require much trouble to wind off, and the filaments appeared coarse; but this may be partly occasioned by the method of loosening them from the bags, which is by steeping them in hot water. Jarak (ricinus and Palma christi), from whence the castor oil is extracted, grows wild in abundance: especially near the sea-shore. Bijin (Sesamum indicum) is sown extensively in the interior districts for the oil it produces, which is there used for burning in place of the coconut-oil so common near the coast. ELASTIC GUM. In the description of the Urceola elastica, or caout-chouc-vine, of Sumatra and Pulo Pinang, by Dr. W. Roxburgh, in the Asiatic Researches Volume 5 page 167, he says, "For the discovery of this useful vine we are, I believe, indebted to Mr. Howison, late surgeon at Pulo Pinang; but it would appear he had no opportunity of determining its botanical character. To Dr. Charles Campbell of Fort Marlborough we owe the gratification arising from a knowledge thereof. About twelve months ago I received from that gentleman, by means of Mr. Fleming, very complete specimens, in full foliage, flower, and fruit. From these I was enabled to reduce it to its class and order in the Linnean system. It forms new genus immediately after tabernaemontana, and consequently belongs to the class called contortae. One of the qualities of the plants of this order is their yielding, on being cut, a juice which is generally milky, and for the most part deemed of a poisonous nature." Of another plant, producing a similar substance, I received the following information from Mr. Campbell, in a letter dated in November, 1803: "You may remember a trailing plant with a small yellowish flower and a seed vessel of an oblong form, containing one seed; the whole plant resembling much the caout-chouc. To this, finding it wholly nondescript, I have taken the liberty to attach your name. It has no relationship to a genus yielding a similar substance, of which I sent a specimen to Dr. Roxburgh at Bengal, who published an account of it under the name of urceola. It is called jintan by the Malays, and of its three species I have accurately ascertained two, the jintan itam and jintan burong, the latter very rare. Its leaves are of a deep glossy green, and the flowers lightly tinged with a pale yellow; it belongs to the tetrandria, and is a handsome plant--but more of this with the drawing." Unfortunately however neither this drawing nor any part of his valuable collection of materials for improving the natural history of that interesting country, which he bequeathed to me by his will, have yet reached my hands. GUM. Mr. Charles Miller observed in the country near Bencoolen a gum exuding spontaneously from the paty tree, which appeared very much to resemble the gum-arabic; and, as they belong to the same genus of plants, he thought it not improbable that this gum might be used for the same purposes. In the list of new species by F. Norona (Batavian Transactions Volume 5) he gives to the pete of Java the name of Acacia gigantea; which I presume to be the same plant. PULSE. Kachang is a term applied to all sorts of pulse, of which a great variety is cultivated; as the kachang china (Dolichos sinensis), kachang putih (Dolichos katjang), k. ka-karah (D. lignosus), k. kechil (Phaseolus radiatus), k. ka-karah gatal (Dolichos pruriens) and many others. The kachang tanah (Arachis hypogaea) is of a different class, being the granulose roots (or, according to some, the self-buried pods) of a herb with a yellow, papilionaceous flower, the leaves of which have some resemblance to the clover, but double only, and, like it, affords rice pasture for cattle. The seeds are always eaten fried or parched, from whence they obtain their common appellation of kachang goring. YAMS. The variety of roots of the yam and potato kind, under the general name of ubi, is almost endless; the dioscorea being generally termed ubi kechil (small), and the convolvulus ubi gadang (large); some of which latter, of the sort called at Bencoolen the China-yam, weigh as much as forty pounds, and are distinguished into the white and the purple. The fruit of the trong (melongena), of which the egg-plant is one species, is much eaten by the natives, split and fried. They are commonly known by the name of brinjals, from the beringelhas of the Portuguese. DYE-STUFFS. (PLATE 8. Marsdenia tinctoria, OR BROAD-LEAFED INDIGO. E.W. Marsden delt. Swaine fct. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) INDIGO. Tarum or indigo (Indigofera tinctoria) being the principal dye-stuff they employ, the shrub is always found in their planted spots; but they do not manufacture it into a solid substance, as is the practice elsewhere. The stalks and branches having lain for some days in water to soak and macerate, they then boil it, and work among it with their hands a small quantity of chunam (quick lime, from shells), with leaves of the paku sabba (a species of fern) for fixing the colour. It is afterwards drained off, and made use of in the liquid state. There is another kind of indigo, called in Sumatra tarum akar, which appears to be peculiar to that country, and was totally unknown to botanists to whom I showed the leaves upon my return to England in the beginning of the year 1780. The common kind is known to have small pinnated leaves growing on stalks imperfectly ligneous. This, on the contrary, is a vine, or climbing plant, with leaves from three to five inches in length, thin, of a dark green, and in the dried state discoloured with blue stains. It yields the same dye as the former sort; they are prepared also in the same manner, and used indiscriminately, no preference being given to the one above the other, as the natives informed me, excepting inasmuch as the tarum akar, by reason of the largeness of the foliage, yields a greater proportion of sediment. Conceiving it might prove a valuable plant in our colonies, and that it was of importance in the first instance that its identity and class should be accurately ascertained, I procured specimens of its fructification, and deposited them in the rich and extensively useful collection of my friend Sir Joseph Banks. In a paper on the Asclepiadeae, highly interesting to botanical science, communicated by Mr. Robert Brown (who has lately explored the vegetable productions of New Holland and other parts of the East) to the Wernerian Society of Edinburgh, and printed in their Transactions, he has done me the honour of naming the genus to which this plant belongs, MARSDENIA, and this particular species Marsdenia tinctoria.* (*Footnote. 2. M. caule volubili, foliis cordatis ovato-oblongis acuminatis glabriusculis basi antice glandulosis, thyrsis lateralibus, fauce barbata. Tarram akkar Marsd. Sumat. page 78 edition 2 Hab. In insula Sumatra. (v.s. in Herb. Banks.)) KASUMBA. Under the name of kasumba are included two plants yielding materials for dyeing, but very different from each other. The kasumba (simply) or kasumba jawa, as it is sometimes called, is the Carthamus tinctorius, of which the flowers are used to produce a saffron colour, as the name imports. The kasumba kling or galuga is the Bixa orellana, or arnotto of the West Indies. Of this the capsule, about an inch in length, is covered with soft prickles or hair, opens like a bivalve shell, and contains in its cavities a dozen or more seeds, the size of grape-stones, thickly covered with a reddish farina, which is the part that constitutes the dye. Sapang, the Brazil-wood, (Caesalpinia sappan), whether indigenous or not, is common in the Malayan countries. The heart of this being cut into chips, steeped for a considerable time in water, and then boiled, is used for dying here, as in other countries. The cloth or thread is repeatedly dipped in this liquid, and hung to dry between each wetting till it is brought to the shade required. To fix the colour alum is added in the boiling. Of the tree called bangkudu in some districts, and in others mangkudu (Morinda umbellata) the outward parts of the root, being dried, pounded, and boiled in water, afford a red dye, for fixing which the ashes procured from the stalks of the fruit and midribs of the leaves of the coconut are employed. Sometimes the bark or wood of the sapang tree is mixed with these roots. It is to be observed that another species of bangkudu, with broader leaves (Morinda citrifolia) does not yield any colouring matter, but is, as I apprehend, the tree commonly planted in the Malayan peninsula and in Pulo Pinang as a support to the pepper-vine. RED-WOOD. Ubar is a red-wood resembling the logwood (haematoxylon) of Honduras, and might probably be employed for the same purpose. It is used by the natives in tanning twine for fishing nets, and appears to be the okir or Tanarius major of Rumphius, Volume 3 page 192, and Jambolifera rezinoso of Lour. Fl. C. C. page 231. Their black dye is commonly made from the coats of the mangostin-fruit and of the kataping (Terminalia catappa). With this the blue cloth from the west of India is changed to a black, as usually worn by the Malays of Menangkabau. It is said to be steeped in mud in order to fix the colour. The roots of the chapada or champadak (Artocarpus integrifolia) cut into chips and boiled in water produce a yellow dye. To strengthen the tint a little turmeric (the kunyit tumma or variety of curcuma already spoken of) is mixed with it, and alum to fix it; but as the yellow does not hold well it is necessary that the operation of steeping and drying should be frequently repeated. CHAPTER 5. FRUITS, FLOWERS, MEDICINAL SHRUBS AND HERBS. FRUITS. Nature, says a celebrated writer,* seems to have taken a pleasure in assembling in the Malayan countries her most favourite productions; and with truth I think it may be affirmed that no region of the earth can boast an equal abundance and variety of indigenous fruits; for although the whole of those hereafter enumerated cannot be considered as such, yet there is reason to conclude that the greater part may, for the natives, who never appear to bestow the smallest labour in improving or even in cultivating such as they naturally possess, can hardly be suspected of taking the pains to import exotics. The larger number grow wild, and the rest are planted in a careless, irregular manner about their villages. (*Footnote. Les terres possedees par les Malais, sont en general de tres bonne qualite. La nature semble avoir pris plaisir d'y placer ses plus excellentes productions. On y voit tous les fruits delicieux que j'ai dit se trouver sur le territoire de Siam, et une multitude d'autres fruits agreables qui sont particuliers a ces isles. On y respire un air embaume par une multitude de fleurs agreables qui se succedent toute l'annee, et dont l'odeur suave penetre jusqu'a l'ame, et inspire la volupte la plus seduisante. Il n'est point de voyageur qui en se promenant dans les campagnes de Malacca, ne se sente invite a fixer son sejour dans un lieu si plein d'agremens, dont la nature seule a fait tous les frais. Voyages d'un Philosophe par M. Poivre page 56.) (PLATE 3. THE MANGUSTIN FRUIT, GARCINIA MANGOSTANA. Engraved by J. Swaine. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) MANGUSTIN. The mangustin, called by the natives manggis and manggista (Garcinia mangostana, L.) is the pride of these countries, to which it exclusively belongs, and has, by general consent, obtained, in the opinion of Europeans, the pre-eminence amongst Indian fruits. Its characteristic quality is extreme delicacy of flavour, without being rich or luscious. It is a drupe of a brownish-red colour, and the size of a common apple, consisting of a thick rind, somewhat hard on the outside, but soft and succulent within, encompassing kernels which are covered with a juicy and perfectly white pulp, which is the part eaten, or, more properly, sucked, for it dissolves in the mouth. Its qualities are as innocent as they are grateful, and the fruit may be eaten in any moderate quantity without danger of surfeit, or other injurious effects. The returns of its season appeared to be irregular, and the periods short. DURIAN. The durian (Durio zibethinus) is also peculiar to the Malayan countries. It is a rich fruit but strong and even offensive in taste as well as smell, to those who are not accustomed to it, and of a very heating quality; yet the natives (and others who fall into their habits) are passionately addicted to it, and during the time of its continuing in season live almost wholly upon its luscious and cream-like pulp; whilst the rinds, thrown about in the bazaars, communicate their scent to the surrounding atmosphere. The tree is large and lofty; the leaves are small in proportion, but in themselves long and pointed. The blossoms grow in clusters on the stem and larger branches. The petals are five, of a yellowish-white, surrounding five branches of stamina, each bunch containing about twelve, and each stamen having four antherae. The pointal is knobbed at top. When the stamina and petal fall, the empalement resembles a fungus, and nearly in shape a Scot's bonnet. The fruit is in its general appearance not unlike the bread-fruit, but larger, and its coat is rougher. BREAD-FRUIT. The sutun kapas, and sukun biji or kalawi, are two species of the bread-fruit-tree (Artocarpus incisa). The former is the genuine, edible kind, without kernels, and propagated by cuttings of the roots. Though by no means uncommon, it is said not to be properly a native of Sumatra. The kalawi, on the contrary, is in great abundance, and its bark supplies the country people with a sort of cloth for their working dresses. The leaves of both species are deeply indented, like those of the fig, but considerably longer. The bread-fruit is cut in slices, and, being boiled or broiled on the fire, is eaten with sugar, and much esteemed. It cannot however be considered as an article of food, and I suspect that in quality it is inferior to the bread-fruit of the South-Sea Islands. JACK-FRUIT. The Malabaric name of jacca, or the jack-fruit, is applied both to the champadak or chapada (Artocarpus integrifolia, L. and Polyphema jaca, Lour.) and to the nangka (Artocarpus integrifolia, L. and Polyphema champeden, Lour). Of the former the leaves are smooth and pointed; of the latter they are roundish, resembling those of the cashew. This is the more common, less esteemed, and larger fruit, weighing, in some instances, fifty or sixty pounds. Both grow in a peculiar manner from the stem of the tree. The outer coat is rough, containing a number of seeds or kernels (which, when roasted, have the taste of chestnuts) inclosed in a fleshy substance of a rich, and, to strangers, too strong smell and flavour, but which gains upon the palate. When the fruit ripens the natives cover it with mats or the like to preserve it from injury by the birds. Of the viscous juice of this tree they make a kind of bird­lime: the yellow wood is employed for various purposes, and the root yields a dye-stuff. MANGO. The mango, called mangga and mampalam (Mangifera indica, L.) is well known to be a rich, high-flavoured fruit of the plumb kind, and is found here in great perfection; but there are many inferior varieties beside the ambachang, or Mangifera foetida, and the tais. JAMBU. Of the jambu (eugenia, L.) there are several species, among which the jambu merah or kling (Eugenia malaccensis) is the most esteemed for the table, and is also the largest. In shape it has some resemblance to the pear, but is not so taper near the stalk. The outer skin, which is very fine, is tinged with a deep and beautiful red, the inside being perfectly white. Nearly the whole substance is edible, and when properly ripe it is a delicious fruit; but otherwise, it is spongy and indigestible. In smell and even in taste it partakes much of the flavour of the rose; but this quality belongs more especially to another species, called jambu ayer mawar, or the rose-water jambu. Nothing can be more beautiful than the blossoms, the long and numerous stamina of which are of a bright pink colour. The tree grows in a handsome, regular, conical shape, and has large, deep-green, pointed leaves. The jambu ayer (Eugenia aquea) is a delicate and beautiful fruit in appearance, the colour being a mixture of white and pink; but in its flavour, which is a faint, agreeable acid, it does not equal the jambu merah. PLANTAIN. Of the pisang, or plantain (Musa paradisiaca, L.) the natives reckon above twenty varieties, including the banana of the West Indies. Among these the pisang amas, or small yellow plantain, is esteemed the most delicate; and next to that the pisang raja, pisang dingen, and pisang kalle. Pineapple. The nanas, or pineapple (Bromelia ananas), though certainly not indigenous, grows here in great plenty with the most ordinary culture. Some think them inferior to those produced from hothouses in England; but this opinion may be influenced by the smallness of their price, which does not exceed two or three pence. With equal attention it is probable they might be rendered much superior, and their variety is considerable. The natives eat them with salt. ORANGES. Oranges (limau manis) of many sorts, are in the highest perfection. That called limau japan, or Japan orange, is a fine fruit, not commonly known in Europe. In this the cloves adhere but slightly to each other, and scarcely at all to the rind, which contains an unusual quantity of the essential oil. The limau gadang, or pumple-nose (Citrus aurantium), called in the West Indies the shaddock (from the name of the captain who carried them thither), is here very fine, and distinguished into the white and red sorts. Limes or limau kapas, and lemons, limau kapas panjang, are in abundance. The natives enumerate also the limau langga, limau kambing, limau pipit, limau sindi masam, and limau sindi manis. The true citron, or limau karbau, is not common nor in esteem. GUAVA. The guava (Psidium pomiferum) called jambu biji, and also jambu protukal (for Portugal, in consequence, as we may presume, of its having been introduced by the people of that country) has a flavour which some admire, and others equally dislike. The pulp of the red sort is sometimes mixed with cream by Europeans, to imitate strawberries, from a fond partiality to the productions of their native soil; and it is not unusual, amidst a profusion of the richest eastern fruits, to sigh for an English codling or gooseberry. CUSTARD-APPLE. The siri kaya, or custard-apple (Annona squamosa), derives its name from the likeness which its white and rich pulp bears to a custard, and it is accordingly eaten with a spoon. The nona, as it is called by the natives (Annona reticulata), is another species of the same fruit, but not so grateful to the taste. PAPAW. The kaliki, or papaw (Carica papaja), is a large, substantial, and wholesome fruit, in appearance not unlike a smooth sort of melon, but not very highly flavoured. The pulp is of a reddish yellow, and the seeds, which are about the size of grains of pepper, have a hot taste like cresses. The watermelon, called here samangka (Cucurbita citrullus) is of very fine quality. The rock or musk-melons, are not common. TAMARIND. Tamarinds, called asam jawa, or the Javan acid, are the produce of a large and noble tree, with small pinnated leaves, and supply a grateful relief in fevers, which too frequently require it. The natives preserve them with salt, and use them as an acid ingredient in their curries and other dishes. It may be remarked that in general they are not fond of sweets, and prefer many of their fruits whilst green to the same in their ripe state. (PLATE 4. THE RAMBUTAN, Nephelium lappaceum. L. Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) RAMBUTAN. The rambutan (Nephelium lappaceum, L. Mant.) is in appearance not much unlike the fruit of the arbutus, but larger, of a brighter red, and covered with coarser hair or soft spines, from whence it derives its name. The part eaten is a gelatinous and almost transparent pulp surrounding the kernel, of a rich and pleasant acid. (PLATE 5. THE LANSEH FRUIT, Lansium domesticum. L. Wilkins delt. Hooker Sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810. PLATE 6. THE RAMBEH FRUIT, A SPECIES OF LANSEH. Maria Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) LANSEH. The lanseh, likewise but little known to botanists, is a small oval fruit, of a whitish-brown colour, which, being deprived of its thin outer coat, divides into five cloves, of which the kernels are covered with a fleshy pulp, subacid, and agreeable to the taste. The skin contains a clammy juice, extremely bitter, and, if not stripped with care, it is apt to communicate its quality to the pulp. M. Correa de Serra, in les Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle Tome 10 page 157 plate 7, has given a description of the Lansium domesticum from specimens of the fruit preserved in the collection of Sir Joseph Banks. The chupak, ayer-ayer, and rambe are species or varieties of the same fruit. BLIMBING. Of the blimbing (Averrhoa carambola) a pentagonal fruit, containing five flattish seeds, and extremely acid, there are two sorts, called penjuru and besi. The leaves of the latter are small, opposite, and of a sap­green; those of the former grow promiscuously and are of a silver green. There is also the blimbing bulu (Averrhoa billimbi), or smooth species. Their uses are chiefly in cookery, and for purposes where a strong acid is required, as in cleaning the blades of their krises and bringing out the damask, for which they are so much admired. The cheremi (Averrhoa acida) is nearly allied to the blimbing besi, but the fruit is smaller, of an irregular shape, growing in clusters close to the branch, and containing each a single hard seed or stone. It is a common substitute for our acid fruits in tarts. KATAPING. The kataping (Terminalia catappa, L. and Juglans catappa, Lour.) resembles the almond both in its outer husk and the flavour of its kernel; but instead of separating into two parts, like the almond, it is formed of spiral folds, and is developed somewhat like a rosebud, but continuous, and not in distinct laminae. SPECIES OF CHESTNUT. The barangan (a species of fagus) resembles the chestnut. The tree is large, and the nuts grow sometimes one, two, and three in a husk. The jerring, a species of mimosa, resembles the same fruit, but is larger and more irregularly shaped than the barangan. The tree is smaller. The tapus (said to be a new genus belonging to the tricoccae) has likewise some analogy, but more distant, to the chestnut. There are likewise three nuts in one husk, forming in shape an oblong spheroid. If eaten unboiled they are said to inebriate. The tree is large. (PLATE 7. THE KAMILING OR BUAH KRAS, Juglans camirium. L. Wilkins delt. Engraved by J. Swaine. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) KAMILING. The fruit named kamiri, kamiling, and more commonly buah kras, or the hard fruit (Camirium cordifolium, Gaert. and Juglans camirium, Lour.) bears much resemblance to the walnut in the flavour and consistence of the kernel; but the shell is harder and does not open in the same manner. The natives of the hills make use of it as a substitute for the coconut, both in their cookery and for procuring a delicate oil. RATTAN. The rotan salak (Calamus zalacca, Gaert.) yields a fruit, the pulp of which is sweetish, acidulous, and pleasant. Its outer coat, like those of the other rotans, is covered with scales, or the appearance of nice basket-work. It incloses sometimes one, two, and three kernels, of a peculiar horny substance. CASHEW. The cashew-apple and nut, called jambu muniet, or monkey-jambu (Anacardium occidentale), are well known for the strong acidity of the former, and the caustic quality of the oil contained in the latter, from tasting which the inexperienced often suffer. POMEGRANATE. The pomegranate or dalima (Punica granatum) flourishes here, as in all warm climates. GRAPES, ETC. Grape-vines are planted with success by Europeans for their tables, but not cultivated by the people of the country. There is found in the woods a species of wild grape, called pringat (Vitis indica); and also a strawberry, the blossom of which is yellow, and the fruit has little flavour. Beside these there are many other, for the most part wild, fruits, of which some boast a fine flavour, and others are little superior to our common berries, but might be improved by culture. Such are the buah kandis, a variety of garcinia (it should be observed that buah, signifying fruit, is always prefixed to the particular name), buah malaka (Phyllanthus emblica), rukam (Carissa spinarum), bangkudu or mangkudu (Morinda citrifolia), sikaduduk (melastoma), kitapan (Callicarpa japonica). FLOWERS. "You breathe in the country of the Malays (says the writer before quoted) an air impregnated with the odours of innumerable flowers of the greatest fragrance, of which there is a perpetual succession throughout the year, the sweet flavour of which captivates the soul, and inspires the most voluptuous sensations." Although this luxurious picture may be drawn in too-warm tints it is not however without its degree of justness. The people of the country are fond of flowers in the ornament of their persons, and encourage their growth, as well as that of various odoriferous shrubs and trees. KANANGA. The kananga (Uvaria cananga, L.) being a tree of the largest size, surpassed by few in the forest, may well take the lead, on that account, in a description of those which bear flowers. These are of a greenish yellow, scarcely distinguishable from the leaves, among which the bunches hang down in a peculiar manner. About sunset, if the evening be calm, they diffuse a fragrance around that affects the sense at the distance of some hundred yards. CHAMPAKA. Champaka (Michelia champaca). This tree grows in a regular, conical shape, and is ornamental in gardens. The flowers are a kind of small tulip, but close and pointed at top; their colour a deep yellow, the scent strong, and at a distance agreeable. They are wrapped in the folds of the hair, both by the women, and by young men who aim at gallantry. TANJONG. Bunga tanjong (Mimusops elengi, L.) A fair tree, rich in foliage, of a dark green; the flowers small, radiated, of a yellowish white, and worn in wreaths by the women; their scent, though exquisite at a distance, is too powerful when brought nigh. The fruit is a drupe, containing a large blackish flatted seed. GARDENIA. Sangklapa (Gardenia flore simplice). A handsome shrub with leaves of very deep green, long-pointed; the flowers a pure white, without visible stamina or pistil, the petals standing angularly to each other. It has little or no scent. The pachah-piring (Gardenia florida, described by Rumphius under the name of catsjopiri) is a grand white double flower, emitting a pleasing and not powerful odour. HIBISCUS. The bunga raya (Hibiscus rosa sinensis) is a well-known shrub, with leaves of a yellowish green, serrated and curled. Of one sort the flower is red, yielding a juice of deep purple, and when applied to leather produces a bright black, from whence its vulgar name of the shoe-flower. Of another sort the blossom is white. They are without smell. PLUMERIA. Bunga or kumbang kamboja (Plumeria obtusa) is likewise named bunga kubur-an, from its being always planted about graves. The flower is large, white, yellow towards the centre, consisting of five simple, smooth, thick petals, without visible pistil or stamina, and yielding a strong scent. The leaf of the tree is long, pointed, of a deep green, remarkable in this, that round the fibres proceeding from the midrib run another set near the edge, forming a handsome border. The tree grows in a stunted, irregular manner, and even whilst young has a venerable antique appearance. NYCTANTHES. The bunga malati and bunga malur (Nyctanthes sambac) are different names for the same humble plant, called mugri in Bengal. It bears a pretty white flower, diffusing a more exquisite fragrance, in the opinion of most persons, than any other of which the country boasts. It is much worn by the females; sometimes in wreaths, and various combinations, along with the bunga tanjong, and frequently the unblown buds are strung in imitation of rows of pearls. It should be remarked that the appellative bunga, or flower, (pronounced bungo in the south-western parts of Sumatra), is almost ever prefixed to the proper name, as buah is to fruits. There is also the malati china (Nyctanthes multiflora); the elegant bunga malati susun (Nyctanthes acuminata). PERGULARIA. And the celebrated bunga tonking (Pergularia odoratissima), whose fascinating sweets have been widely dispersed in England by the successful culture and liberal participation of Sir Joseph Banks. At Madras it obtained the appellation of West-coast, i.e. Sumatran, creeper, which marks the quarter from whence it was obtained. At Bencoolen the same appellation is familiarly applied to the bunga tali-tali (Ipomoea quamoclit), a beautiful, little, monopetalous flower, divided into five angular segments, and closing at sunset. From its bright crimson colour it received from Rumphius the name of Flos cardinalis. The plant is a luxuriant creeper, with a hairlike leaf. Pavetta indica, ETC. The angsuka, or bunga jarum-jarum (Pavetta indica), obtained from Rumphius, on account of the glowing red colour of its long calices, the name of flamma sylvarum peregrina. The bunga marak (Poinciana pulcherrima) is a most splendid flower, the colours being a mixture of yellow and scarlet, and its form being supposed to resemble the crest of the peacock, from whence its Malayan name, which Rumphius translated. The nagasari (Calophyllum nagassari) bears a much admired blossom, well known in Bengal; but in the upper parts of India, called nagakeh­sir, and in the Batavian Transactions Acacia aurea. The bakong, or salandap (Crinum asiaticum), is a plant of the lily kind, with six large, white, turbinated petals of an agreeable scent. It grows wild near the beach amongst those plants which bind the loose sands. Another and beautiful species of the bakong has a deep shade of purple mixed with the white. The kachubong (Datura metel) appears also to flourish mostly by the seaside. It bears a white infundibuliform flower, rather pentagonal than round, with a small hook at each angle. The leaves are dark green, pointed, broad and unequal at the bottom. The fruit is shaped like an apple, very prickly, and full of small seeds. Sundal malam or harlot of the night (Polyanthes tuberosa) is so termed from the circumstance of its diffusing its sweet odours at that season. It is the tuberose of our gardens, but growing with great vigour and luxuriance. The bunga mawur (Rosa semperflorens, Curtis, Number 284), is small and of a deep crimson colour. Its scent is delicate and by no means so rich as that yielded by the roses of our climate. The Amaranthus cristatus (Celosia castrensis, L.) is probably a native, being found commonly in the interior of the Batta country, where strangers have rarely penetrated. The various species of this genus are called by the general name of bayam, of which some are edible, as before observed. PANDAN. Of the pandan (pandanus), a shrub with very long prickly leaves, like those of the pineapple or aloe, there are many varieties, of which some are highly fragrant, particularly the pandan wangi (Pandanus odoratissima, L.), which produces a brownish white spath or blossom, one or two feet in length. This the natives shred fine and wear about their persons. The pandan pudak, or keura of Thunberg, which is also fragrant, I have reason to believe the same as the wangi. The common sort is employed for hedging and called caldera by Europeans in many parts of India. In the Nicobar islands it is cultivated and yields a fruit called the melori, which is one of the principle articles of food. EPIDENDRA. Bunga anggrek (epidendrum). The species or varieties of this remarkable tribe of parasitical plants are very numerous, and may be said to exhibit a variety of loveliness. Kaempfer describes two kinds by the names of angurek warna and katong'ging; the first of which I apprehend to be the anggrek bunga putri (Angraecum scriptum, R.) and the other the anggrek kasturi (Angraecum moschatum, R.) or scorpion-flower, from its resembling that insect, as the former does the butterfly. The musky scent resides at the extremity of the tail.* (*Footnote. Habetur haec planta apud Javanos in deliciis et magno studio colitur; tum ob floris eximium odorem, quem spirat, moschi, tum ob singularem elegantiam et figuram scorpionis, quam exhibet...spectaculo sane jocundissimo, ut negem quicquam elegantius et admiratione dignius in regno vegetabili me vidisse...Odorem flos moschi exquisitissimum atque adeo copiosum spargit, ut unicus stylus floridus totum conclave impleat. Qui vero odor, quod maxi me mireris, in extrema parte petali caudam referentis, residet; qua abicissa, omnis cessat odoris expiratio. Amoen exoticae, page 868.) WATER-LILIES, ETC. The bunga tarati or seruja (Nymphaea nelumbo) as well as several other beautiful kinds of aquatic plants are found upon the inland waters of this country. Daun gundi or tabung bru (Nepenthes destillatoria) can scarcely be termed a flower, but is a very extraordinary climbing plant. From the extremity of the leaf a prolongation of the mid-rib, resembling the tendril of a vine, terminates in a membrane formed like a tankard with the lid or valve half opened; and growing always nearly erect, it is commonly half full of pure water from the rain or dews. This monkey-cup (as the Malayan name implies) is about four or five inches long and an inch in diameter. Giring landak (Crotalaria retusa) is a papilionaceous flower resembling the lupin, yellow, and tinged at the extremities with red. From the rattling of its seed in the pod it obtains its name, which signifies porcupine-bells, alluding to the small bells worn about the ankles of children. The daup (bauhinia) is a small, white, semiflosculous flower, with a faint smell. The leaves alone attract notice, being double, as if united by a hinge, and this peculiarity suggested the Linnean name, which was given in compliment to two brothers of the name of Bauhin, celebrated botanists, who always worked conjointly. To the foregoing list, in every respect imperfect, many interesting plants might be added by an attentive and qualified observer. The natives themselves have a degree of botanical knowledge that surprises Europeans. They are in general, and at a very early age, acquainted not only with the names, but the properties of every shrub and herb amongst that exuberant variety with which the island is clothed. They distinguish the sexes of many plants and trees, and divide several of the genera into as many species as our professors. Of the paku or fern I have had specimens brought to me of twelve sorts, which they told me were not the whole, and to each they gave a distinct name. MEDICINAL HERBS. Some of the shrubs and herbs employed medicinally are as follows. Scarcely any of them are cultivated, being culled from the woods or plains as they happen to be wanted. Lagundi (Vitex trifolia, L.) The botanic characters of this shrub are well known. The leaves, which are bitter and pungent rather than aromatic, are considered as a powerful antiseptic, and are employed in fevers in the place of Peruvian bark. They are also put into granaries and among cargoes of rice to prevent the destruction of the grain by weevils. Katupong resembles the nettle in growth, in fruit the blackberry. I have not been able to identify it. The leaf, being chewed, is used in dressing small fresh wounds. Siup, a kind of wild fig, is applied to the scurf or leprosy of the Nias people, when not inveterate. Sikaduduk (melastoma) has the appearance of a wild rose. A decoction of its leaves is used for the cure of a disorder in the sole of the foot, called maltus, resembling the impetigo or ringworm. Ampadu-bruang or bear's gall (brucea, foliis serratis) is the lussa raja of Rumphius, excessively bitter, and applied in infusion for the relief of disorders in the bowels. Kabu (unknown). Of this the bark and root are used for curing the kudis or itch, by rubbing it on the part affected. Marampuyan (a new genus). The young shoots of this, being supposed to have a refreshing and corroborating quality, are rubbed over the body and limbs after violent fatigue. Mali-mali (unknown). The leaf of this plant, which bears a white umbellated blossom, is applied to reduce swellings. Chapo (Conyza balsamifera) resembles the sage (salvia) in colour, smell, taste, and qualities, but grows to the height of six feet, has a long jagged leaf, and its blossom resembles that of groundsel. Murribungan (unknown). The leaves of this climber are broad, roundish, and smooth. The juice of its stalk is applied to heal excoriations of the tongue. Ampi-ampi (unknown). A climbing plant with leaves resembling the box, and a small flosculous blossom. It is used as a medicine in fevers. Kadu (species of piper), with a leaf in shape and taste resembling the betel. It is burned to preserve children newly born from the influence of evil spirits. Gumbai (unknown). A shrub with monopetalous, stillated, purple flowers, growing in tufts. The leaves are used in disorders of the bowels. Tabulan bukan (unknown). A shrub bearing a semiflosculous blossom, applied to the cure of sore eyes. Kachang prang (Dolichos ensiformis). The pods of this are of a huge size, and the beans, of a fine crimson colour, are used in diseases of the pleura. Sipit, a species of fig, with a large oval leaf, rough to the touch, and rigid. An infusion of it is swallowed in iliac affections. Daun se-dingin (Cotyledon laciniata). This leaf, as the name denotes, is of a remarkably cold quality. It is applied to the forehead to cure the headache, and sometimes to the body in fevers. Long pepper (Piper longum) is used medicinally. Turmeric, also, mixed with rice reduced to powder and then formed into a paste, is much used outwardly in cases of colds and pains in the bones; and chunam or quick-lime is likewise commonly rubbed on parts of the body affected with pain. In the cure of the kura or boss (from the Portuguese word baco), which is an obstruction of the spleen, forming a hard lump in the upper part of the abdomen, a decoction of the following plants is externally applied: sipit tunggul; madang tandok (a new genus, highly aromatic); ati ayer (species of arum ?) tapa besi; paku tiong (a most beautiful fern, with leaves like a palm; genus not ascertained); tapa badak (a variety of callicarpa); laban (Vitex altissima); pisang ruko (species of musa); and paku lamiding (species of polypodium ?); together with a juice extracted from the akar malabatei (unknown). In the cure of the kurap, tetter or ringworm, they apply the daun galinggan (Cassia quadri-alata) a herbaceous shrub with large pinnated leaves and a yellow blossom. In the more inveterate cases, barangan (coloured arsenic, or orpiment), a strong poison, is rubbed in. The milky exsudation from the sudu-sudu (Euphorbia neriifolia) is valued highly by the natives for medicinal purposes. Its leaves eaten by sheep or goats occasion present death. UPAS TREE. On the subject of the puhn upas or poison tree (Arbor toxicaria, R.), of whose properties so extraordinary an account was published in the London Magazine for September 1785 by Mr. N.P. Foersch, a surgeon in the service of the Dutch East India Company, at that time in England, I shall quote the observations of the late ingenious Mr. Charles Campbell, of the medical establishment at Fort Marlborough. "On my travels in the country at the back of Bencoolen I found the upas tree, about which so many ridiculous tales have been told. Some seeds must by this time have arrived in London in a packet I forwarded to Mr. Aiton at Kew. The poison is certainly deleterious, but not in so terrific a degree as has been represented. Some of it in an inspissated state you will receive by an early opportunity. As to the tree itself, it does no manner of injury to those around it. I have sat under its shade, and seen birds alight upon its branches; and as to the story of grass not growing beneath it, everyone who has been in a forest must know that grass is not found in such situations." For further particulars respecting this poison-tree, which has excited so much interest, the reader is referred to Sir George Staunton's Account of Lord Macartney's Embassy Volume 1 page 272; to Pennant's Outlines of the Globe Volume 4 page 42, where he will find a copy of Foersch's original narrative; and to a Dissertation by Professor C.P. Thunberg upon the Arbor toxicaria Macassariensis, in the Mem. of the Upsal Acad. for 1788. The information given by Rumphius upon the subject of the Ipo or Upas, in his Herb. Amboin. Volume 2 page 263, will also be perused with satisfaction.* It is evident that some of the exaggerated stories related to him by the people of Celebes (the plant not being indigenous at Amboina) suggested to Mr. Foersch, the fables with which he amused the world. (*Footnote. Since the above was written I have seen the Dissertation sur les Effets d'un Poison de Java, appele Upas tieute, etc.; presentee a la Faculte de Medicine de Paris le 6 Juillet 1809, par M. Alire Raffeneau-Delile, in which he details a set of curious and interesting experiments on this very active poison, made with specimens brought from Java by M. Leschenault; and also a second dissertation, in manuscript (presented to the Royal Society), upon the effects of similar experiments made with what he terms the upas antiar. The former he states to be a decoction or extract from the bark of the roots of a climbing plant of the genus strychnos, called tieute by the natives of Java; and the latter to be a milky, bitter, and yellowish juice, running from an incision in the bark of a large tree (new genus) called antiar; the word upas meaning, as M. Leschenault understands, vegetable poison of any kind. A small branch of the puhn upas, with some of the poisonous gum, was brought to England in 1806 by Dr. Roxburgh, who informed Mr. Lambert that a plant of it which he had procured from Sumatra was growing rapidly in the Company's Botanic Garden at Calcutta. A specimen of the gum, by the favour of the latter gentleman, is in my possession.) CHAPTER 6. BEASTS. REPTILES. FISH. BIRDS. INSECTS. BEASTS. The animal kingdom claims attention, but, the quadrupeds of the island being in general the same as are found elsewhere throughout the East, already well described, I shall do little more than furnish a list of those which have occurred to my notice; adding a few observations on such as may appear to require them. BUFFALO. The karbau, or buffalo, constituting a principal part of the food of the natives, and, being the only animal employed in their domestic labours, it is proper that I should enter into some detail of its qualities and uses; although it may be found not to differ materially from the buffalo of Italy, and to be the same with that of Bengal. The individuals of the species, as is the case with other domesticated cattle, differ extremely from each other in their degree of perfection, and a judgment is not to be formed of the superior kinds, from such as are usually furnished as provision to the ships from Europe. They are distinguished into two sorts; the black and the white. Both are equally employed in work, but the latter is seldom killed for food, being considered much inferior in quality, and by many as unwholesome, occasioning the body to break out in blotches. If such be really the effect, it may be presumed that the light flesh-colour is itself the consequence of some original disorder, as in the case of those of the human species who are termed white negroes. The hair upon this sort is extremely thin, scarcely serving to cover the hide; nor have the black buffaloes a coat like the cattle of England. The legs are shorter than those of the ox, the hoofs larger, and the horns are quite peculiar, being rather square or flat than round, excepting near the extremities; and whether pointing backward, as in general, or forwards, as they often do, are always in the plane of the forehead, and not at an angle, as those of the cow-kind. They contain much solid substance, and are valuable in manufacture. The tail hangs down to the middle joint of the leg only, is small, and terminates in a bunch of hair. The neck is thick and muscular, nearly round, but somewhat flatted at top, and has little or no dewlap dependant from it. The organ of generation in the male has an appearance as if the extremity were cut off. It is not a salacious animal. The female goes nine months with calf, which it suckles during six, from four teats. When crossing a river it exhibits the singular sight of carrying its young one on its back. It has a weak cry, in a sharp tone, very unlike the lowing of oxen. The most part of the milk and butter required for the Europeans (the natives not using either) is supplied by the buffalo, and its milk is richer than that of the cow, but not yielded in equal quantity. What these latter produce is also very small compared with the dairies of Europe. At Batavia, likewise, we are told that their cows are small and lean, from the scantiness of good pasture, and do not give more than about an English quart of milk, sixteen of which are required to make a pound of butter. The inland people, where the country is tolerably practicable, avail themselves of the strength of this animal to draw timber felled in the woods: the Malays and other people on the coast train them to the draft, and in many places to the plough. Though apparently of a dull, obstinate, capricious nature, they acquire from habit a surprising docility, and are taught to lift the shafts of the cart with their horns, and to place the yoke, which is a curved piece of wood attached to the shafts, across their necks; needing no further harness than a breast-band, and a string that is made to pass through the cartilage of the nostrils. They are also, for the service of Europeans, trained to carry burdens suspended from each side of a packsaddle, in roads, or rather paths, where carriages cannot be employed. It is extremely slow, but steady in its work. The labour it performs, however, falls short of what might be expected from its size and apparent strength, any extraordinary fatigue, particularly during the heat of the day, being sufficient to put a period to its life, which is at all times precarious. The owners frequently experience the loss of large herds, in a short space of time, by an epidemic distemper, called bandung (obstruction), that seizes them suddenly, swells their bodies, and occasions, as it is said, the serum of the blood to distil through the tubes of the hairs. The luxury of the buffalo consists in rolling itself in a muddy pool, which it forms, in any spot, for its convenience, during the rainy season. This it enjoys in a high degree, dexterously throwing with its horn the water and slime, when not of a sufficient depth to cover it, over its back and sides. Their blood is perhaps of a hot temperature, which may render this indulgence, found to be quite necessary to their health, so desirable to their feelings; and the mud, at the same time, forming a crust upon their bodies, preserves them from the attack of insects, which otherwise prove very troublesome. Their owners light fires for them in the evening, in order that the smoke may have the same effect, and they have the instinctive sagacity to lay themselves down to leeward, that they may enjoy its full benefit. Although common in every part of the country, they are not understood to exist in the proper wild or indigenous state, those found in the woods being termed karbau jalang, or stray buffaloes, and considered as the subject of property; or if originally wild, they may afterwards, from their use in labour and food, have been all caught and appropriated by degrees. They are gregarious, and usually found in large numbers together, but sometimes met with singly, when they are more dangerous to passengers. Like the turkey and some other animals they have an antipathy to a red colour, and are excited by it to mischief. When in a state of liberty they run with great swiftness, keeping pace with the speed of an ordinary horse. Upon an attack or alarm they fly to a short distance, and then suddenly face about and draw up in battle-array with surprising quickness and regularity; their horns being laid back, and their muzzles projecting. Upon the nearer approach of the danger that presses on them they make a second flight, and a second time halt and form; and this excellent mode of retreat, which but few nations of the human race have attained to such a degree of discipline as to adopt, they continue till they gain the fastnesses of a neighbouring wood. Their principal foe, next to man, is the tiger; but only the weaker sort, and the females fall a certain prey to this ravager, as the sturdy male buffalo can support the first vigorous stroke from the tiger's paw, on which the fate of the battle usually turns. COW. The cow, called sapi (in another dialect sampi) and jawi, is obviously a stranger to the country, and does not appear to be yet naturalized. The bull is commonly of what is termed the Madagascar breed, with a large hump upon the shoulders, but from the general small size of the herds I apprehend that it degenerates, from the want of good pasture, the spontaneous production of the soil being too rank. THE HORSE. The horse, kuda: the breed is small, well made, and hardy. The country people bring them down in numbers for sale in nearly a wild state; chiefly from the northward. In the Batta country they are eaten as food; which is a custom also amongst the people of Celebes. SHEEP, ETC. Sheep, biri-biri and domba: small breed, introduced probably from Bengal. (PLATE 11a. n.2. 1. SKULL OF THE KAMBING-UTAN. 2. SKULL OF THE KIJANG. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon sc.) (PLATE 14. n.1. THE KAMBING-UTAN, OR WILD-GOAT. W. Bell delt.) Goat, kambing: beside the domestic species, which is in general small and of a light brown colour, there is the kambing utan, or wild goat. One which I examined was three feet in height, and four in the length of the body. It had something of the gazelle in its appearance, and, with the exception of the horns, which were about six inches long and turned back with an arch, it did not much resemble the common goat. The hinder parts were shaped like those of a bear, the rump sloping round off from the back; the tail was very small, and ended in a point; the legs clumsy; the hair along the ridge of the back rising coarse and strong, almost like bristles; no beard; over the shoulder was a large spreading tuft of greyish hair; the rest of the hair black throughout; the scrotum globular. Its disposition seemed wild and fierce, and it is said by the natives to be remarkably swift. Hog, babi: that breed we call Chinese. The wild hog, babi utan. Dog, anjing: those brought from Europe lose in a few years their distinctive qualities, and degenerate at length into the cur with erect ears, kuyu, vulgarly called the pariah dog. An instance did not occur of any one going mad during the period of my residence. Many of them are affected with a kind of gonorrhoea. (PLATE 11. n.1. THE ANJING-AYER, Mustela lutra. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fc.) (PLATE 13a. n.2. THE ANJING-AYER. Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) Otter, anjing ayer (Mustela lutra). Cat, kuching: these in every respect resemble our common domestic cat, excepting that the tails of all are more or less imperfect, with a knob or hardness at the end, as if they had been cut or twisted off. In some the tail is not more than a few inches in length, whilst in others it is so nearly perfect that the defect can be ascertained only by the touch. Rat, tikus: of the grey kind. Mouse, tikus kechil. ELEPHANT. Elephant, gajah: these huge animals abound in the woods, and from their gregarious habits usually traversing the country in large troops together, prove highly destructive to the plantations of the inhabitants, obliterating the traces of cultivation by merely walking through the grounds; but they are also fond of the produce of their gardens, particularly of plantain-trees and the sugar-cane, which they devour with eagerness. This indulgence of appetite often proves fatal to them, for the owners, knowing their attachment to these vegetables, have a practice of poisoning some part of the plantation, by splitting the canes and putting yellow arsenic into the clefts which the animal unwarily eats of, and dies. Not being by nature carnivorous, the elephants are not fierce, and seldom attack a man but when fired at or otherwise provoked. Excepting a few kept for state by the king of Achin, they are not tamed in any part of the island. RHINOCEROS. The rhinoceros, badak, both that with a single horn and the double-horned species, are natives of these woods. The latter has been particularly described by the late ingenious Mr. John Bell (one of the pupils of Mr. John Hunter) in a paper printed in Volume 83 of the Philosophical Transactions for 1793. The horn is esteemed an antidote against poison, and on that account formed into drinking cups. I do not know anything to warrant the stories told of the mutual antipathy and the desperate encounters of these two enormous beasts. HIPPOPOTAMUS. Hippopotamus, kuda ayer: the existence of this quadruped in the island of Sumatra having been questioned by M. Cuvier, and not having myself actually seen it, I think it necessary to state that the immediate authority upon which I included it in the list of animals found there was a drawing made by Mr. Whalfeldt, an officer employed on a survey of the coast, who had met with it at the mouth of one of the southern rivers, and transmitted the sketch along with his report to the government, of which I was then secretary. Of its general resemblance to that well-known animal there could be no doubt. M. Cuvier suspects that I may have mistaken for it the animal called by naturalists the dugong, and vulgarly the sea-cow, which will be hereafter mentioned; and it would indeed be a grievous error to mistake for a beast with four legs, a fish with two pectoral fins serving the purposes of feet; but, independently of the authority I have stated, the kuda ayer, or river-horse, is familiarly known to the natives, as is also the duyong (from which Malayan word the dugong of naturalists has been corrupted); and I have only to add that, in a register given by the Philosophical Society of Batavia in the first Volume of their Transactions for 1799, appears the article "couda aijeer, rivier paard, hippopotamus" amongst the animals of Java. BEAR, ETC. Bear, bruang: generally small and black: climbs the coconut-trees in order to devour the tender part or cabbage. (PLATE 12. n.1. THE PALANDOK, A DIMINUTIVE SPECIES OF MOSCHUS. Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc.) (PLATE 12a. n.2. THE KIJANG OR ROE, Cervus muntjak. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) Of the deer kind there are several species: rusa, the stag, of which some are very large; kijang, the roe, with unbranched horns, the emblem of swiftness and wildness with the Malayan poets; palandok, napu, and kanchil, three varieties, of which the last is the smallest, of that most delicate animal, termed by Buffon the chevrotin, but which belong to the moschus. Of a kanchil measured at Batavia the extreme length was sixteen inches, and the height ten behind, and eight at the shoulder. Babi-rusa, or hog-deer: an animal of the hog kind, with peculiar tusks resembling horns. Of this there is a representation in Valentyn, Volume 3 page 268 fig. c., and also in the very early travels of Cosmas, published in Thevenot's Collect. Volume 1 page 2 of the Greek Text. The varieties of the monkey tribe are innumerable: among them the best known are the muniet, karra, bru, siamang (or simia gibbon of Buffon), and lutong. With respect to the appellation of orang utan, or wild man, it is by no means specific, but applied to any of these animals of a large size that occasionally walks erect, and bears the most resemblance to the human figure. Sloth, ku-kang, ka-malas-an (Lemur tardigradus). Squirrel, tupei; usually small and dark-coloured. Teleggo, stinkard. TIGER. Tiger, arimau, machang: this beast is here of a very large size, and proves a destructive foe to man as well as to most other animals. The heads being frequently brought in to receive the reward given by the East India Company for killing them, I had an opportunity of measuring one, which was eighteen inches across the forehead. Many circumstances respecting their ravages, and the modes of destroying them, will occur in the course of the work. Tiger-cat, kuching-rimau (said to feed on vegetables as well as flesh). Civet-cat, tanggalong (Viverra civetta): the natives take the civet, as they require it for use, from a peculiar receptacle under the tail of the animal. It appears from the Ayin Akbari (Volume 1 page 103) that the civet used at Delhi was imported from Achin. (PLATE 9a. THE MUSANG, A SPECIES OF VIVERRA. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) Polecat, musang (Viverra fossa, or a new species). (PLATE 13. n.1. THE LANDAK, Hystrix longicauda. Sinensis delt. A. Cardon fc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) Porcupine (Hystrix longicauda) landak, and, for distinction, babi landak. Hedgehog (erinaceus) landak. (PLATE 10. THE TANGGILING OR PENG-GOLING-SISIK, A SPECIES OF MANIS. W. Bell delt. A. Cardon fct. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) PENG-GOLING. Peng-goling, signifying the animal which rolls itself up; or pangolin of Buffon: this is distinguished into the peng-goling rambut, or hairy sort (myrmophaga), and the peng-goling sisik, or scaly sort, called more properly tanggiling (species of manis); the scales of this are esteemed by the natives for their medicinal properties. See Asiatic Researches Volume 1 page 376 and Volume 2 page 353. (PLATE 9. A SPECIES OF Lemur volans, SUSPENDED FROM THE RAMBEH-TREE. Sinensis delt. N. Cardon fct. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) BATS. Of the bat kind there is an extraordinary variety: the churi-churi is the smallest species, called vulgarly burong tikus, or the mouse-bird; next to these is the kalalawar; then the kalambit; and the kaluwang (noctilio) is of considerable size; of these I have observed very large flights occasionally passing at a great height in the air, as if migrating from one country to another, and Captain Forrest notices their crossing the Straits of Sunda from Java Head to Mount Pugong; they are also seen hanging by hundreds upon trees. The flying-foxes and flying-squirrels (Lemur volans), which by means of a membrane extending from what may be termed the forelegs to those behind, are enabled to take short flights, are also not uncommon. ALLIGATORS AND OTHER LIZARDS. Alligators, buaya (Crocodilus biporcatus of Cuvier), abound in most of the rivers, grow to a large Size, and do much mischief. The guana, or iguana, biawak (Lacerta iguana) is another animal of the lizard kind, about three or four feet in length, harmless, excepting to the poultry and young domestic cattle, and sometimes itself eaten as food. The bingkarong is next in size, has hard, dark scales on the back, and is often found under heaps of decayed timber; its bite venomous. The koke, goke, or toke, as it is variously called, is a lizard, about ten or twelve inches long, frequenting old buildings, and making a very singular noise. Between this and the small house-lizard (chichak) are many gradations in size, chiefly of the grass-lizard kind, which is smooth and glossy. The former are in length from about four inches down to an inch or less, and are the largest reptiles that can walk in an inverted situation: one of these, of size sufficient to devour a cockroach, runs on the ceiling of a room, and in that situation seizes its prey with the utmost facility. This they seem to be enabled to do from the rugose structure of their feet, with which they adhere strongly to the smoothest surface. Sometimes however, on springing too eagerly at a fly, they lose their hold, and drop to the floor, on which occasions a circumstance occurs not undeserving of notice. The tail being frequently separated from the body by the shock (as it may be at any of the vertebrae by the slightest force, without loss of blood or evident pain to the animal, and sometimes, as it would seem, from the effect of fear alone) within a little time, like the mutilated claw of a lobster, begins to renew itself. They are produced from eggs about the size of the wren's, of which the female carries two at a time, one in the lower, and one in the upper part of the abdomen, on opposite sides; they are always cold to the touch, and yet the transparency of their bodies gives an opportunity of observing that their fluids have as brisk a circulation as those of warm-blooded animals: in none have I seen the peristaltic motion so obvious as in these. It may not be useless to mention that these phenomena were best observed at night when the lizard was on the outside of a pane of glass, with a candle on the inside. There is, I believe, no class of living creatures in which the gradations can be traced with such minuteness and regularity as in this; where, from the small animal just described, to the huge alligator or crocodile, a chain may be traced containing almost innumerable links, of which the remotest have a striking resemblance to each other, and seem, at first view, to differ only in bulk. CHAMELEON. The chameleon, gruning: these are about a foot and half long, including the tail; the colour, green with brown spots, as I had it preserved; when alive in the woods they are generally green, but not from the reflection of the leaves, as some have supposed. When first caught they usually turn brown, apparently the effect of fear or anger, as men become pale or red; but if undisturbed soon resume a deep green on the back, and a yellow green on the belly, the tail remaining brown. Along the spine, from the head to the middle of the back, little membranes stand up like the teeth of a saw. As others of the genus of lacerta they feed on flies and grasshoppers, which the large size of their mouths and peculiar structure of their bony tongues are well adapted for catching. (PLATE 14a. n.2. THE KUBIN, Draco volans. Sinensis delt. A. Cardon sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) The flying lizard, kubin, or chachak terbang (Draco volans), is about eight inches in its extreme length, and the membranes which constitute the wings are about two or three inches in extent. These do not connect with the fore and hind legs, as in the bat tribe, but are supported by an elongation of the alternate ribs, as pointed out by my friend Mr. Everard Home. They have flapped ears, and a singular kind of pouch or alphorges, under the jaws. In other respects they much resemble the chameleon in appearance. They do not take distant flights, but merely from tree to tree, or from one bough to another. The natives take them by springs fastened to the stems. FROGS. SNAKES. With animals of the frog kind (kodok) the swamps everywhere teem; and their noise upon the approach of rain is tremendous. They furnish prey to the snakes, which are found here of all sizes and in great variety of species; the larger proportion harmless, but of some, and those generally small and dark-coloured, the bite is mortal. If the cobra capelo, or hooded snake, be a native of the island, as some assert, it must be extremely rare. The largest of the boa kind (ular sauh) that I had an opportunity of observing was no more than twelve feet long. This was killed in a hen-house where it was devouring the poultry. It is very surprising, but not less true, that snakes will swallow animals of twice or three times their own apparent circumference; having in their jaws or throat a compressive force that gradually and by great efforts reduces the prey to a convenient dimension. I have seen a small snake (ular sini) with the hinder legs of a frog sticking out of its mouth, each of them nearly equal to the smaller parts of its own body, which in the thickest did not exceed a man's little finger. The stories told of their swallowing deer, and even buffaloes, in Ceylon and Java, almost choke belief, but I cannot take upon me to pronounce them false; for if a snake of three inches diameter can gorge a fowl of six, one of thirty feet in length and proportionate bulk and strength might well be supposed capable of swallowing a beast of the size of a goat; and I have respectable authority for the fact that the fawn of a kijang or roe was cut out of the body of a very large snake killed at one of the southern settlements. The poisonous kinds are distinguished by the epithet of ular bisa, among which is the biludak or viper. The ular garang, or sea-snake, is coated entirely with scales, both on the belly and tail, not differing from those on the back, which are small and hexagonal; the colour is grey, with here and there shades of brown. The head and about one-third of the body from thence is the smallest part, and it increases in bulk towards the tail, which resembles that of the eel. It has not any dog-fangs. TORTOISE. The tortoise, kura-kura, and turtle, katong, are both found in these seas; the former valuable for its scales, and the latter as food; the land­tortoise (Testudo graeca) is brought from the Seychelles Islands. There is also an extensive variety of shellfish. The crayfish, udang laut (Cancer homarus or ecrevisse-de-mer), is as large as the lobster, but wants its biting claws. The small freshwater crayfish, the prawns and shrimps (all named udang, with distinctive epithets), are in great perfection. The crab, kapiting and katam (cancer), is not equally fine, but exhibits many extraordinary varieties. The kima, or gigantic cockle (chama), has been already mentioned. The oysters, tiram, are by no means so good as those of Europe. The smaller kind are generally found adhering to the roots of the mangrove, in the wash of the tide. The mussel, kupang (mytilus), rimis (donax), kapang (Teredo navalis), sea­egg, bulu babi (echinus), bia papeda (nautilus), ruma gorita (argonauta), bia unam (murex), bia balang (cuprea), and many others may be added to the list. The beauty of the madrepores and corallines, of which the finest specimens are found in the recesses of the Bay of Tappanuli, is not to be surpassed in any country. Of these a superb collection is in the possession of Mr. John Griffiths, who has given, in Volume 96 of the Philosophical Transactions, the Description of a rare species of Worm-Shells, discovered at an island lying off the North-west coast of Sumatra. In the same volume is also a Paper by Mr. Everard Home, containing Observations on the Shell of the Sea Worm found on the Coast of Sumatra, proving it to belong to a species of Teredo; with an Account of the Anatomy of the Teredo navalis. The former he proposes to call the Teredo gigantea. The sea-grass, or ladang laut, concerning which Sir James Lancaster tells some wonderful stories, partakes of the nature of a sea-worm and of a coralline; in its original state it is soft and shrinks into the sand from the touch; but when dry it is quite hard, straight, and brittle. FISH. The duyong is a very large sea-animal or fish, of the order of mammalia, with two large pectoral fins serving the purposes of feet. By the early Dutch voyagers it was, without any obvious analogy, called the sea-cow; and from the circumstance of the head being covered with a kind of shaggy hair, and the mammae of the female being placed immediately under the pectus, it has given rise to the stories of mermaids in the tropical seas. The tusks are applied to the same uses as ivory, especially for the handles of krises, and being whiter are more prized. It has much general resemblance to the manatee or lamantin of the West Indies, and has been confounded with it; but the distinction between them has been ascertained by M. Cuvier, Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle 22 cahier page 308.* (*Footnote. "Some time ago (says Captain Forrest) a large fish, with valuable teeth, being cast ashore in the Illana districts, there arose a dispute who should have the teeth, but the Magindanoers carried it." Voyage to New Guinea page 272. See also Valentyn Volume 3 page 341.) WHALE. The grampus whale (species of delphinus) is well known to the natives by the names of pawus and gajah mina; but I do not recollect to have heard any instance of their being thrown upon the coast. VOILIER. Of the ikan layer (genus novum schombro affine) a grand specimen is preserved in the British Museum, where it was deposited by Sir Joseph Banks;* and a description of it by the late M. Brousonet, under the name of le Voilier, is published in the Mem. de l'Acad. de Scien. de Paris for 1786 page 450 plate 10. It derives its appellation from the peculiarity of its dorsal fin, which rises so high as to suggest the idea of a sail; but it is most remarkable for what should rather be termed its snout than its horn, being an elongation of the frontal bone, and the prodigious force with which it occasionally strikes the bottoms of ships, mistaking them, as we may presume, for its enemy or prey. A large fragment of one of these bones, which had transfixed the plank of an East India ship, and penetrated about eighteen inches, is likewise preserved in the same national collection, together with the piece of plank, as it was cut out of the ship's bottom upon her being docked in England. Several accidents of a similar nature are known to have occurred. There is an excellent representation of this fish, under the name of fetisso, in Barbot's Description of the Coasts of Guinea, plate 18, which is copied in Astley's Collection of Voyages, Volume 2 plate 73. (*Footnote. This fish was hooked by Mr. John Griffiths near the southern extremity of the west coast of Sumatra, and was given to Captain Cumming of the Britannia indiaman, by whom it was presented to Sir Joseph Banks.) VARIOUS FISH. To attempt an enumeration of the species of fish with which these seas abound would exceed my power, and I shall only mention briefly some of the most obvious; as the shark, hiyu (squalus); skate, ikan pari (raya); ikan mua (muraena); ikan chanak (gymnotus); ikan gajah (cepole); ikan karang or bonna (chaetodon), described by Mr. John Bell in Volume 82 of the Philosophical Transactions. It is remarkable for certain tumours filled with oil, attached to its bones. There are also the ikan krapo, a kind of rock-cod or sea-perch; ikan marrang or kitang (teuthis), commonly named the leather fish, and among the best brought to table; jinnihin, a rock-fish shaped like a carp; bawal or pomfret (species of chaetodon); balanak, jumpul, and marra, three fish of the mullet kind (mugil); kuru (polynemus); ikan lidah, a kind of sole; tingeri, resembles the mackerel; gagu, catfish; summa, a river fish, resembling the salmon; ringkis, resembles the trout, and is noted for the size of its roe; ikan tambarah, I believe the shad of Siak River; ikan gadis, good river fish, about the size of a carp; ikan bada, small, like white bait; ikan gorito, sepia; ikan terbang, flying-fish (exocoetus). The little seahorse (Syngnathus hippocampus) is commonly found here. BIRDS. Of birds the variety is considerable, and the following list contains but a small portion of those that might be discovered in the island by a qualified person who should confine his researches to that branch of natural history. KUWAU. The kuwau, or Sumatran pheasant (Phasianus argus), is a bird of uncommon magnificence and beauty; the plumage being perhaps the most rich, without any mixture of gaudiness, of all the feathered race. It is found extremely difficult to keep it alive for any considerable time after catching it in the woods, yet it has in one instance been brought to England; but, having lost its fine feathers by the voyage, it did not excite curiosity, and died unnoticed. There is now a good specimen in the Liverpool Museum. It has in its natural state an antipathy to the light, and in the open day is quite moped and inanimate. When kept in a darkened place it seems at its ease, and sometimes makes use of the note or call from which it takes its name, and which is rather plaintive than harsh. The flesh, of which I have eaten, perfectly resembles that of the common pheasant (tugang), also found in the woods, but the body is of much larger size. I have reason to believe that it is not, as supposed, a native of the North or any part of China. From the Malayan Islands, of which it is the boast, it must be frequently carried thither. PEACOCK, ETC. The peacock, burong marak (pavo), appears to be well known to the natives, though I believe not common. I should say the same of the eagle and the vulture (coracias), to the one or the other of which the name of raja wali is familiarly applied. The kite, alang (falco), is very common, as is the crow, gadak (corvus), and jackdaw, pong (gracula), with several species of the woodpecker. The kingfisher (alcedo) is named burong buaya, or the alligator-bird. The bird-of-paradise, burong supan, or elegant-bird, is known here only in the dried state, as brought from the Moluccas and coast of New Guinea (tanah papuah). (PLATE 15. BEAKS OF THE BUCEROS OR HORN-BILL. M. de Jonville delt. Swaine sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) The rhinoceros bird, hornbill, or calao (buceros), called by the natives anggang and burong taun, is chiefly remarkable for what is termed the horn, which in the most common species extends halfway down the upper mandible of its large beak, and then turns up; but the varieties of shape are numerous. The length of one I measured whilst alive was ten inches and a half; the breadth, including the horn, six and a half; length from beak to tail four feet; wings four feet six inches; height one foot; length of neck one foot; the beak whitish; the horn yellow and red; the body black; the tail white ringed with black; rump, and feathers on the legs down to the heel, white; claws three before and one behind; the iris red. In a hen chick there was no appearance of a horn, and the iris was whitish. They eat either boiled rice or tender fresh meat. Of the use of such a singular cavity I could not learn any plausible conjecture. As a receptacle for water, it must be quite unnecessary in the country of which it is a native. STORK, ETC. Of the stork kind there are several species, some of great height and otherwise curious, as the burong kambing and burong ular, which frequent the rice plantations in wet ground. We find also the heron, burong kuntul (ardea); the snipe, kandidi (scolopax); the coot, or water-hen, ayam ayer (fulica); and the plover, cheruling (charadrius). The cassowary, burong rusa, is brought from the island of Java. The domestic hen is as common as in most other countries. In some the bones (or the periostea) are black, and these are at least equally good as food. The hen of the woods, ayam barugo, or ayam utan (which latter name is in some places applied to the pheasant), differs little from the common sort, excepting in the uniformity of its brown colour. In the Lampong country of Sumatra and western part of Java lying opposite to it there is a very large breed of fowls, called ayam jago; of these I have seen a cock peck from off of a common dining table; when inclined to rest they sit on the first joint of the leg and are then taller than the ordinary fowls. It is singular if the same country produces likewise the diminutive breed that goes by the name of bantam. A species of partridge is called ayam gunong, or mountain hen. DOVES. Beside the pigeon, merapeti and burong darah (columba), and two common species of doves, the one of a light brown or dove-colour, called ballum, and the other green, called punei, there are of the latter some most exquisite varieties: the punei jambu is smaller than the usual size of doves; the back, wings, and tail are green; the breast and crop are white, but the front of the latter has a slight shade of pink; the forepart of the head is of a deep pink, resembling the blossom of the jambu fruit, from whence its name; the white of the breast is continued in a narrow streak, having the green on one side and the pink on the other, half round the eye, which is large, full, and yellow; of which colour is also the beak. It will live upon boiled rice and padi; but its favourite food, when wild, is the berry of the rumpunnei (Ardisia coriacea), perhaps from this circumstance so called. The selaya, or punei andu, another variety, has the body and wings of deep crimson, with the head, and extremity of its long indented tail, white; the legs red. It lives on the worms generated in the decayed part of old trees, and is about the size of a blackbird. Of the same size is the burong sawei, a bird of a bluish black colour, with a dove-tail, from which extend two very long feathers, terminating circularly. It seems to be what is called the widow-bird, and is formidable to the kite. The burong pipit resembles the sparrow in its appearance, habits, numbers, and the destruction it causes to the grain. The quail, puyuh (coturnix); but whether a native or a bird of passage, I cannot determine. The starling (sturnus), of which I know not the Malayan name. The swallow, layang-layang (hirundo), one species of which, called layang buhi, from its being supposed to collect the froth of the sea, is that which constructs the edible nests. The mu­rei, or dial-bird, resembling a small magpie, has a pretty but short note. There is not any bird in the country that can be said to sing. The ti­yong, or mino, a black bird with yellow gills, has the faculty of imitating human speech in greater perfection than any other of the feathered tribe. There is also a yellow species, but not loquacious. Of the parrot kind the variety is not so great as might be expected, and consists chiefly of those denominated parakeets. The beautiful luri, though not uncommon, is brought from the eastward. The kakatua is an inhabitant chiefly of the southern extremity of the island. The Indian goose, angsa and gangsa (anser); the duck, bebek and itik (anas); and the teal, belibi, are common. INSECTS. With insects the island may truly be said to swarm; and I doubt whether there is any part of the world where greater variety is to be found. Of these I shall only attempt to enumerate a few: The kunang, or firefly, larger than the common fly, (which it resembles), with the phosphoric matter in the abdomen, regularly and quickly intermitting its light, as if by respiration; by holding one of them in my hand I could see to read at night; Lipas, the cockroach (blatta); chingkarek, the cricket (gryllus); Lebah, taun, the bee (apis), whose honey is gathered in the woods; kumbang, a species of apis, that bores its nest in timber, and thence acquires the name of the carpenter; Sumut, the ant (formica), the multitudes of which overrun the country, and its varieties are not less extraordinary than its numbers. The following distinctions are the most obvious: the krangga, or great red ant, about three-fourths of an inch long, bites severely, and usually leaves its head, as a bee its sting, in the wound; it is found mostly on trees and bushes, and forms its nest by fastening together, with a glutinous matter, a collection of the leaves of a branch, as they grow; the common red ant; the minute red ant; the large black ant, not equal in size to the krangga, but with a head of disproportioned bulk; the common black ant; and the minute black ant: they also differ from each other in a circumstance which I believe has not been attended to; and that is the sensation with which they affect the taste when put into the mouth, as frequently happens unintentionally: some are hot and acrid, some bitter, and some sour. Perhaps this will be attributed to the different kinds of food they have accidentally devoured; but I never found one which tasted sweet, though I have caught them in the fact of robbing a sugar or honey-pot. Each species of ant is a declared enemy of the other, and never suffers a divided empire. Where one party effects a settlement the other is expelled; and in general they are powerful in proportion to their bulk, with the exception of the white-ant, sumut putih (termes), which is beaten from the field by others of inferior size; and for this reason it is a common expedient to strew sugar on the floor of a warehouse in order to allure the formicae to the spot, who do not fail to combat and overcome the ravaging but unwarlike termites. Of this insect and its destructive qualities I had intended to give some description, but the subject is so elaborately treated (though with some degree of fancy) by Mr. Smeathman, in Volume 71 of the Philosophical Transactions for 1781, who had an opportunity of observing them in Africa, that I omit it as superfluous. Of the wasp kind there are several curious varieties. One of them may be observed building its nest of moistened clay against a wall, and inclosing in each of its numerous compartments a living spider; thus revenging upon this bloodthirsty race the injuries sustained by harmless flies, and providently securing for its own young a stock of food. Lalat, the common fly (musca); lalat kuda (tabanus); lalat karbau (oestrus); Niamok, agas, the gnat or mosquito (culex), producing a degree of annoyance equal to the sum of all the other physical plagues of a hot climate, but even to these I found that habit rendered me almost indifferent; Kala-jingking, the scorpion (scorpio), the sting of which is highly inflammatory and painful, but not dangerous; Sipasan, centipede (scholopendra), not so venomous as the preceding; Alipan (jules); Alintah, water-leech (hirudo); achih, small land-leech, dropping from the leaves of trees whilst moist with dew, and troublesome to travellers in passing through the woods. To this list I shall only add the suala, tripan, or sea-slug (holothurion), which, being collected from the rocks and dried in the sun, is exported to China, where it is an article of food. CHAPTER 7. VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS OF THE ISLAND CONSIDERED AS ARTICLES OF COMMERCE. PEPPER. CULTIVATION OF PEPPER. CAMPHOR. BENZOIN. CASSIA, ETC. (PLATE 1. THE PEPPER-PLANT, PIPER NIGRUM. E.W. Marsden delt. Engraved by J. Swaine, Queen Street, Golden Square. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) PEPPER. OF those productions of Sumatra, which are regarded as articles of commerce, the most important and most abundant is pepper. This is the object of the East India Company's trade thither, and this alone it keeps in its own hands; its servants, and merchants under its protection, being free to deal in every other commodity. ESTABLISHMENT OF THE TRADE. Many of the princes or chiefs in different parts of the island having invited the English to form settlements in their respective districts, factories were accordingly established, and a permanency and regularity thereby given to the trade, which was very uncertain whilst it depended upon the success of occasional voyages to the coast; disappointments ensuing not only from failure of adequate quantities of pepper to furnish cargoes when required, but also from the caprices and chicanery of the chiefs with whom the disposal of it lay, the motives of whose conduct could not be understood by those who were unacquainted with the language and manners of the people. These inconveniencies were obviated when the agents of the Company were enabled, by their residence on the spot, to obtain an influence in the country, to inspect the state of the plantations, secure the collection of the produce, and make an estimate of the tonnage necessary for its conveyance to Europe. In order to bind the chiefs to the observance of their original promises and professions, and to establish a plausible and legal claim, in opposition to the attempts of rival European powers to interfere in the trade of the same country, written contracts, attended with much form and solemnity, were entered into with the former; by which they engaged to oblige all their dependants to cultivate pepper, and to secure to us the exclusive purchase of it; in return for which they were to be protected from their enemies, supported in the rights of sovereignty, and to be paid a certain allowance or custom on the produce of their respective territories. PRICE. The price for many years paid to the cultivators for their produce was ten Spanish dollars or fifty shillings per bahar of five hundredweight or five hundred and sixty pounds. About the year 1780, with a view to their encouragement and the increase of investment, as it is termed, the sum was augmented to fifteen dollars. To this cost is to be added the custom above mentioned, varying in different districts according to specific agreements, but amounting in general to one dollar and a half, or two dollars on each bahar, which is distributed amongst the chiefs at an annual entertainment; and presents are made at the same time to planters who have distinguished themselves by their industry. This low price, at which the natives submit to cultivate the plantations, affording to each man an income of not more than from eight to twelve dollars yearly, and the undisturbed monopoly we have so long possessed of the trade, from near Indrapura northward to Flat Point southward, are doubtless in a principal degree to be attributed to the peculiar manner in which this part of the island is shut up, by the surfs which prevail along the south-west coast, from communication with strangers, whose competition would naturally produce the effect of enhancing the price of the commodity. The general want of anchorage too, for so many leagues to the northward of the Straits of Sunda, has in all ages deterred the Chinese and other eastern merchants from attempting to establish an intercourse that must be attended with imminent risk to unskilful navigators; indeed I understand it to be a tradition among the natives who border on the sea-coast that it is not many hundred years since these parts began to be inhabited, and they speak of their descent as derived from the more inland country. Thus it appears that those natural obstructions, which we are used to lament as the greatest detriment to our trade, are in fact advantages to which it in a great measure owes its existence. In the northern countries of the island, where the people are numerous and their ports good, they are found to be more independent also, and refuse to cultivate plantations upon any other terms than those on which they can deal with private traders. CULTIVATION OF PEPPER. In the cultivation of pepper (Piper nigrum, L.)* the first circumstance that claims attention, and on which the success materially depends, is the choice of a proper site for the plantation. A preference is usually given to level ground lying along the banks of rivers or rivulets, provided they are not so low as to be inundated, both on account of the vegetable mould commonly found there, and the convenience of water-carriage for the produce. Declivities, unless very gentle, are to be avoided, because the soil loosened by culture is liable in such situations to be washed away by heavy rains. When these plains however are naked, or covered with long grass only, they will not be found to answer without the assistance of the plough and of manure, their fertility being exhausted by exposure to the sun. How far the returns in general might be increased by the introduction of these improvements in agriculture I cannot take upon me to determine; but I fear that, from the natural indolence of the natives, and their want of zeal in the business of pepper-planting, occasioned by the smallness of the advantage it yields to them, they will never be prevailed upon to take more pains than they now do. The planters therefore, depending more upon the natural qualities of the soil than on any advantage it might receive from their cultivation, find none to suit their purpose better than those spots which, having been covered with old woods and long fertilized by decaying foliage and trunks, have recently been cleared for ladangs or padi-fields, in the manner already described; where it was also observed that, being allured by the certainty of abundant produce from a virgin soil, and having land for the most part at will, they renew their toil annually, and desert the ground so laboriously prepared after occupying it for one, or at the furthest for two, seasons. Such are the most usual situations chosen for the pepper plantations (kabun) or gardens, as they are termed; but, independently of the culture of rice, land is very frequently cleared for the pepper in the first instance by felling and burning the trees. (*Footnote. See Remarks on the Species of Pepper (and on its Cultivation) at Prince of Wales Island, by Dr. William Hunter, in the Asiatic Researches Volume 9 page 383.) FORMATION OF THE GARDEN. The ground is then marked out in form of a regular square or oblong, with intersections throughout at the distance of six feet (being equal to five cubits of the measure of the country), the intended interval between the plants, of which there are commonly either one thousand or five hundred in each garden; the former number being required from those who are heads of families (their wives and children assisting them in their work), and the latter from single men. Industrious or opulent persons sometimes have gardens of two or three thousand vines. A border twelve feet in width, within which limit no tree is suffered to grow, surrounds each garden, and it is commonly separated from others by a row of shrubs or irregular hedge. Where the nature of the country admits of it the whole or greater part of the gardens of a dusun or village lie adjacent to each other, both for the convenience of mutual assistance in labour and mutual protection from wild beasts; single gardens being often abandoned from apprehension of their ravages, and where the owner has been killed in such a situation none will venture to replace him. VEGETATING PROPS. After lining out the ground and marking the intersections by slight stakes the next business is to plant the trees that are to become props to the pepper, as the Romans planted elms, and the modern Italians more commonly plant poplars and mulberries, for their grape-vines. These are cuttings of the chungkariang (Erythrina corallodendron), usually called chinkareens, put into the ground about a span deep, sufficiently early to allow time for a shoot to be strong enough to support the young pepper-plant when it comes to twine about it. The cuttings are commonly two feet in length, but sometimes a preference is given to the length of six feet, and the vine is then planted as soon as the chinkareen has taken root: but the principal objections to this method are that in such state they are very liable to fail and require renewal, to the prejudice of the garden; and that their shoots are not so vigorous as those of the short cuttings, frequently growing crooked, or in a lateral instead of a perpendicular direction. The circumstances which render the chinkareen particularly proper for this use are its readiness and quickness of growth, even after the cuttings have been kept some time in bundles,* if put into the ground with the first rains; and the little thorns with which it is armed enabling the vine to take a firmer hold. They are distinguished into two sorts, the white and red, not from the colour of the flowers (as might be supposed) for both are red, but from the tender shoots of the one being whitish and of the other being of a reddish hue. The bark of the former is of a pale ash colour, of the latter brown; the former is sweet, and the food of elephants, for which reason it is not much used in parts frequented by those animals; the latter is bitter and unpalatable to them; but they are not deterred by the short prickles which are common to the branches of both sorts. (*Footnote. It is a common and useful practice to place these bundles of cuttings in water about two inches deep and afterwards to reject such of them as in that state do not show signs of vegetation.) Trial has frequently been made of other trees, and particularly of the bangkudu or mangkudu (Morinda citrifolia), but none have been found to answer so well for these vegetating props. It has been doubted indeed whether the growth and produce of the pepper-vine are not considerably injured by the chinkareen, which may rob it of its proper nourishment by exhausting the earth; and on this principle, in other of the eastern islands (Borneo, for instance), the vine is supported by poles in the manner of hops in England. Yet it is by no means clear to me that the Sumatran method is so disadvantageous in the comparison as it may seem; for, as the pepper-plant lasts many years, whilst the poles, exposed to sun and rain, and loaded with a heavy weight, cannot be supposed to continue sound above two seasons, there must be a frequent renewal, which, notwithstanding the utmost care, must lacerate and often destroy the vines. It is probable also that the shelter from the violence of the sun's rays afforded by the branches of the vegetating prop, and which, during the dry monsoon, is of the utmost consequence, may counterbalance the injury occasioned by their roots; not to insist on the opinion of a celebrated writer that trees, acting as siphons, derive from the air and transmit to the earth as much of the principle of vegetation as is expended in their nourishment. When the most promising shoot of the chinkareen reserved for rearing has attained the height of twelve to fifteen feet (which latter it is not to exceed), or in the second year of its growth, it must be headed or topped; and the branches that then extend themselves laterally, from the upper part only, so long as their shade is required, are afterwards lopped annually at the commencement of the rainy season (about November), leaving little more than the stem; from whence they again shoot out to afford their protection during the dry weather. By this operation also the damage to the plant that would ensue from the droppings of rain from the leaves is avoided. DESCRIPTION OF THE PEPPER-VINE. The pepper-vine is, in its own climate, a hardy plant, growing readily from cuttings or layers, rising in several knotted stems, twining round any neighbouring support, and adhering to it by fibres that shoot from every joint at intervals of six to ten inches, and from which it probably derives a share of its nourishment. If suffered to run along the ground these fibres would become roots; but in this case (like the ivy) it would never exhibit any appearance of fructification, the prop being necessary for encouraging it to throw out its bearing shoots. It climbs to the height of twenty or twenty-five feet, but thrives best when restrained to twelve or fifteen, as in the former case the lower part of the vine bears neither leaves nor fruit, whilst in the latter it produces both from within a foot of the ground. The stalk soon becomes ligneous, and in time acquires considerable thickness. The leaves are of a deep green and glossy surface, heart-shaped, pointed, not pungent to the taste, and have but little smell. The branches are short and brittle, not projecting above two feet from the stem, and separating readily at the joints. The blossom is small and white, the fruit round, green when young and full­grown, and turning to a bright red when ripe and in perfection. It grows abundantly from all the branches in long small clusters of twenty to fifty grains, somewhat resembling bunches of currants, but with this difference, that every grain adheres to the common stalk, which occasions the cluster of pepper to be more compact, and it is also less pliant. MODES OF PROPAGATING IT. The usual mode of propagating the pepper is by cuttings, a foot or two in length, of the horizontal shoots that run along the ground from the foot of the old vines (called lado sulur), and one or two of these are planted within a few inches of the young chinkareen at the same time with it if of the long kind, or six months after if of the short kind, as before described. Some indeed prefer an interval of twelve months; as in good soil the luxuriancy of the vine will often overpower and bear down the prop, if it has not first acquired competent strength. In such soil the vine rises two or three feet in the course of the first year, and four or five more in the second, by which time, or between the second and third year of its growth, it begins to show its blossom (be-gagang), if in fact it can be called such, being nothing more than the germ of the future bunch of fruit, of a light straw colour, darkening to green as the fruit forms. These germs or blossoms are liable to fall untimely (gugur) in very dry weather, or to be shaken off in high winds (although from this accident the gardens are in general well sheltered by the surrounding woods), when, after the fairest promise, the crop fails. TURNING DOWN THE VINES. In the rainy weather that succeeds the first appearance of the fruit the whole vine is loosened from the chinkareen and turned down again into the earth, a hole being dug to receive it, in which it is laid circularly or coiled, leaving only the extremity above ground, at the foot of the chinkareen, which it now reascends with redoubled vigour, attaining in the following season the height of eight or ten feet, and bearing a full crop of fruit. There is said to be a great nicety in hitting the exact time proper for this operation of turning down; for if it be done too soon, the vines have been known not to bear till the third year, like fresh plants; and on the other hand the produce is ultimately retarded when they omit to turn them down until after the first fruit has been gathered; to which avarice of present, at the expense of future advantage, sometimes inclines the owners. It is not very material how many stems the vine may have in its first growth, but now one only, if strong, or two at the most, should be suffered to rise and cling to the prop: more would be superfluous and only weaken the whole. The supernumerary shoots however are usefully employed, being either conducted through narrow trenches to adjacent chinkareens whose vines have failed, or taken off at the root and transplanted to others more distant, where, coiled round and buried as the former, they rise with the same vigour, and the garden is completed of uniform growth, although many of its original vines have not succeeded. With these offsets or layers (called anggor and tettas) new gardens may be at once formed; the necessary chinkareens being previously planted, and of sufficient growth to receive them. This practice of turning down the vines, which appears singular but certainly contributes to the duration as well as strength of the plants, may yet amount to nothing more than a substitute for transplantation. Our people observing that vegetables often fail to thrive when permitted to grow up in the same beds where they were first set or sown, find it advantageous to remove them, at a certain period of their growth, to fresh situations. The Sumatrans observing the same failure have had recourse to an expedient nearly similar in its principle but effected in a different and perhaps more judicious mode. In order to lighten the labour of the cultivator, who has also the indispensable task of raising grain for himself and his family, it is a common practice, and not attended with any detriment to the gardens, to sow padi in the ground in which the chinkareens have been planted, and when this has become about six inches high, to plant the cuttings of the vines, suffering the shoots to creep along the ground until the crop has been taken off, when they are trained to the chinkareens, the shade of the corn being thought favourable to the young plants. PROGRESS OF BEARING. The vines, as has been observed, generally begin to bear in the course of the third year from the time of planting, but the produce is retarded for one or two seasons by the process just described; after which it increases annually for three years, when the garden (about the seventh or eighth year) is esteemed in its prime, or at its utmost produce; which state it maintains, according to the quality of the soil, from one to four years, when it gradually declines for about the same period until it is no longer worth the labour of keeping it in order. From some, in good ground, fruit has been gathered at the age of twenty years; but such instances are uncommon. On the first appearance of decline it should be renewed, as it is termed; but, to speak more properly, another garden should be planted to succeed it, which will begin to bear before the old one ceases. MODE OF PRUNING. The vine having acquired its full growth, and being limited by the height of the chinkareen, sometimes grows bushy and overhangs at top, which, being prejudicial to the lower parts, must be corrected by pruning or thinning the top branches, and this is done commonly by hand, as they break readily at every joint. Suckers too, or superfluous side­shoots (charang), which spring luxuriantly, are to be plucked away. The ground of the garden must be kept perfectly clear of weeds, shrubs, and whatever might injure or tend to choke the plants. During the hot months of June, July, and August the finer kinds of grass may be permitted to cover the ground, as it contributes to mitigate the effects of the sun's power, and preserves for a longer time the dews, which at that season fall copiously; but the rank species, called lalang, being particularly difficult to eradicate, should not be suffered to fix itself, if it can be avoided. As the vines increase in size and strength less attention to the ground is required, and especially as their shade tends to check the growth of weeds. In lopping the branches of the chinkareens preparatory to the rains, some dexterity is required that they may fall clear of the vine, and the business is performed with a sharp prang or bill that generally separates at one stroke the light pithy substance of the bough. For this purpose, as well as that of gathering the fruit, light triangular ladders made of bamboo are employed. TIME OF GATHERING. As soon as any of the berries or corns redden, the bunch is reckoned fit for gathering, the remainder being then generally full-grown, although green; nor would it answer to wait for the whole to change colour, as the most mature would drop off. MODE OF DRYING AND CLEANSING. It is collected in small baskets slung over the shoulder, and with the assistance of the women and children conveyed to a smooth level spot of clean hard ground near the garden or the village, where it is spread, sometimes upon mats, to dry in the sun, but exposed at the same time to the vicissitudes of the weather, which are not much regarded nor thought to injure it. In this situation it becomes black and shrivelled, as we see it in Europe, and as it dries is hand-rubbed occasionally to separate the grains from the stalk. It is then winnowed in large round shallow sieves called nyiru, and put in large vessels made of bark (kulitkayu) under their houses until the whole of the crop is gathered, or a sufficient quantity for carrying (usually by water) to the European factory or gadong at the mouth of the river. That which has been gathered at the properest stage of maturity will shrivel the least; but, if plucked too soon, it will in a short time, by removal from place to place, become mere dust. Of this defect trial may be made by the hand; but as light pepper may have been mixed with the sound it becomes necessary that the whole should be garbled at the scale by machines constructed for the purpose. Pepper that has fallen to the ground overripe and been gathered from thence will be known by being stripped of its outer coat, and in that state is an inferior kind of white pepper. WHITE PEPPER. This was for centuries supposed in Europe to be the produce of a different plant, and to possess qualities superior to those of the common black pepper; and accordingly it sold at a considerably higher price. But it has lost in some measure that advantage since it has been known that the secret depended merely upon the art of blanching the grains of the other sort, by depriving it of the exterior pellicle. For this purpose the ripest red grains are picked out and put in baskets to steep, either in running water (which is preferred), in pits dug for the occasion near the banks of rivers, or in stagnant pools. Sometimes it is only buried in the ground. In any of these situations it swells, and in the course of a week or ten days bursts its tegument, from which it is afterwards carefully separated by drying in the sun, rubbing between the hands, and winnowing. It has been much disputed, and is still undetermined, to which sort the preference ought to be given. The white pepper has this obvious recommendation, that it can be made of no other than the best and soundest grains, taken at their most perfect stage of maturity: but on the other hand it is argued that, by being suffered to remain the necessary time in water, its strength must be considerably diminished; and that the outer husk, which is lost by the process, has a peculiar flavour distinct from that of the heart, and though not so pungent, more aromatic. For the white pepper the planter receives the fourth part of a dollar, or fifteen pence, per bamboo or gallon measure, equal to about six pounds weight. At the sales in England the prices are at this time in the proportion of seventeen to ten or eleven, and the quantity imported has for some years been inconsiderable. APPEARANCE OF THE GARDENS. The gardens being planted in even rows, running parallel, and at right angles with each other, their symmetrical appearance is very beautiful, and rendered more striking by the contrast they exhibit to the wild scenes of nature which surround them. In highly cultivated countries such as England, where landed property is all lined out and bounded and intersected with walls and hedges, we endeavour to give our gardens and pleasure-grounds the charm of variety and novelty by imitating the wildness of nature, in studied irregularities. Winding walks, hanging woods, craggy rocks, falls of water, are all looked upon as improvements; and the stately avenues, the canals, and rectangular lawns of our ancestors, which afforded the beauty of contrast in ruder times are now exploded. This difference of taste is not merely the effect of caprice, nor entirely of refinement, but results from the change of circumstances. A man who should attempt to exhibit in Sumatra the modern or irregular style of laying out grounds would attract but little attention, as the unimproved scenes adjoining on every side would probably eclipse his labours. Could he, on the contrary, produce, amidst its magnificent wilds, one of those antiquated parterres, with its canals and fountains, whose precision he has learned to despise, his work would create admiration and delight. A pepper-garden cultivated in England would not in point of external appearance be considered as an object of extraordinary beauty, and would be particularly found fault with for its uniformity; yet in Sumatra I never entered one, after travelling many miles, as is usually the case, through the woods, that I did not find myself affected with a strong sensation of pleasure. Perhaps the simple view of human industry, so scantily presented in that island, might contribute to this pleasure, by awakening those social feelings that nature has inspired us with, and which make our breasts glow on the perception of whatever indicates the prosperity and happiness of our fellow-creatures. SURVEYS. Once in every year a survey of all the pepper-plantations is taken by the Company's European servants resident at the various settlements, in the neighbourhood of which that article is cultivated. The number of vines in each particular garden is counted; accurate observation is made of its state and condition; orders are given where necessary for further care, for completion of stipulated quantity, renewals, changes of situation for better soil; and rewards and punishments are distributed to the planters as they appear, from the degree of their industry or remissness, deserving of either. Minutes of all these are entered in the survey-book, which, beside giving present information to the chief, and to the governor and council, to whom a copy is transmitted, serves as a guide and check for the survey of the succeeding year. An abstract of the form of the book is as follows. It is divided into sundry columns, containing the name of the village; the names of the planters; the number of chinkareens planted; the number of vines just planted; of young vines, not in a bearing state, three classes or years; of young vines in a bearing state, three classes; of vines in prime; of those on decline; of those that are old, but still productive; the total number; and lastly the quantity of pepper received during the year. A space is left for occasional remarks, and at the conclusion is subjoined a comparison of the totals of each column, for the whole district or residency, with those of the preceding year. This business the reader will perceive to be attended with considerable trouble, exclusive of the actual fatigue of the surveys, which from the nature of the country must necessarily be performed on foot, in a climate not very favourable to such excursions. The journeys in few places can be performed in less than a month, and often require a much longer time. The arrival of the Company's Resident at each dusun is considered as a period of festivity. The chief, together with the principal inhabitants, entertain him and his attendants with rustic hospitality, and when he retires to rest, his slumbers are soothed, or interrupted, by the songs of young females, who never fail to pay this compliment to the respected guest; and receive in return some trifling ornamental and useful presents (such as looking-glasses, fans, and needles) at his departure. SUCCESSION OF GARDENS. The inhabitants, by the original contracts of the headmen with the Company, are obliged to plant a certain number of vines; each family one thousand, and each young unmarried man five hundred; and, in order to keep up the succession of produce, so soon as their gardens attain to their prime state, they are ordered to prepare others, that they may begin to bear as the old ones fall off; but as this can seldom be enforced till the decline becomes evident, and as young gardens are liable to various accidents which older ones are exempt from, the succession is rendered incomplete, and the consequence is that the annual produce of each district fluctuates, and is greater or less in the proportion of the quantity of bearing vines to the whole number. To enter minutely into the detail of this business will not afford much information or entertainment to the generality of readers, who will however be surprised to hear that pepper-planting, though scarcely an art, so little skill appears to be employed in its cultivation, has nevertheless been rendered an abstruse science by the investigations which able men have bestowed upon the subject. These took their rise from censures conveyed for supposed mismanagement, when the investment, or annual provision of pepper, decreased in comparison with preceding years, and which was not satisfactorily accounted for by unfavourable seasons. To obviate such charges it became necessary for those who superintended the business to pay attention to and explain the efficient causes which unavoidably occasioned this fluctuation, and to establish general principles of calculation by which to determine at any time the probable future produce of the different residencies. These will depend upon a knowledge of the medium produce of a determinate number of vines, and the medium number to which this produce is to be applied; both of which are to be ascertained only from a comprehensive view of the subject, and a nice discrimination. Nothing general can be determined from detached instances. It is not the produce of one particular plantation in one particular stage of bearing and in one particular season, but the mean produce of all the various classes of bearing vines collectively, drawn from the experience of several years, that can alone be depended on in calculations of this nature. So in regard to the median number of vines presumed to exist at any residency in a future year, to which the medium produce of a certain number, one thousand, for instance, is to be applied, the quantity of young vines of the first, second, and third year must not be indiscriminately advanced, in their whole extent, to the next annual stage, but a judicious allowance founded on experience must be made for the accidents to which, in spite of a resident's utmost care, they will be exposed. Some are lost by neglect or death of the owner; some are destroyed by inundations, others by elephants and wild buffaloes, and some by unfavourable seasons, and from these several considerations the number of vines will ever be found considerably decreased by the time they have arrived at a bearing state. Another important object of consideration in these matters is the comparative state of a residency at any particular period with what may be justly considered as its medium state. There must exist a determinate proportion between any number of bearing vines and such a number of young as are necessary to replace them when they go off and keep up a regular succession. This will depend in general upon the length of time before they reach a bearing state and during which they afterwards continue in it. If this certain proportion happens at any time to be disturbed the produce must become irregular. Thus, if at any period the number of bearing vines shall be found to exceed their just proportion to the total number, the produce at such period is to be considered as above the mean, and a subsequent decrease may with certainty be predicted, and vice versa. If then this proportion can be known, and the state of population in a residency ascertained, it becomes easy to determine the true medium number of bearing vines in that residency. There are, agreeably to the form of the survey book, eleven stages or classes of vines, each advanced one year. Of these classes six are bearing and five young. If therefore the gardens were not liable to accidents, but passed on from column to column undiminished, the true proportion of the bearing vines to the young would be as six to five, or to the total, as six to eleven. But the various contingencies above hinted at must tend to reduce this proportion; while, on the other hand, if any of the gardens should continue longer than is necessary to pass through all the stages on the survey-book, or should remain more than one year in a prime state, these circumstances would tend to increase the proportion. What then is the true medium proportion can only be determined from experience, and by comparing the state of a residency at various successive periods. In order to ascertain this point a very ingenious gentleman and able servant of the East India Company, Mr. John Crisp, to whom I am indebted for the most part of what I have laid before the reader on this part of the subject, drew out in the year 1777 a general comparative view of Manna residency, from the surveys of twelve years, annexing the produce of each year. From the statement it appeared that the proportion of the bearing vines to the whole number in that district was no more than 5.1 to 11, instead of 6 to 11, which would be the proportion if not reduced by accidents; and further that, when the whole produce of the twelve years was diffused over the whole number of bearing vines during that period, the produce of one thousand vines came out to be four hundred and fifty-three pounds, which must therefore be estimated as the medium produce of that residency. The same principle of calculation being applied to the other residencies, it appeared that the mean annual produce of one thousand vines, in all the various stages of bearing, taken collectively throughout the country, deduced from the experience of twelve years, was four hundred and four pounds. It likewise became evident from the statements drawn out by that gentleman that the medium annual produce of the Company's settlements on the west coast of Sumatra ought to be estimated at twelve hundred tons, of sixteen hundred weight; which is corroborated by an average of the actual receipts for any considerable number of years. Thus much will be sufficient to give the reader an idea of pepper-planting as a kind of science. How far in a commercial light this produce answers the Company's views in supporting the settlements, is foreign from my purpose to discuss, though it is a subject on which not a little might be said. It is the history of the island and its inhabitants, and not of the European interests, that I attempt to lay before the public. SPECIES OF PEPPER. The natives distinguish three species of pepper, which are called at different places by different names. At Laye, in the Rejang country, they term them lado kawur, lado manna, and lado jambi, from the parts where each sort is supposed to prevail, or from whence it was first brought to them. The lado kawur, or Lampong pepper, is the strongest plant, and bears the largest leaf and fruit; is slower in coming to perfection than the second, but of much longer duration. The leaf and fruit of the lado manna are somewhat smaller, and it has this peculiarity, that it bears soon and in large quantities, but seldom passes the third or fourth year's crop. The jambi, which has deservedly fallen into disrepute, is of the smallest leaf and fruit, very short-lived, and not without difficulty trained to the chinkareen. In some places to the southward they distinguish two kinds only, lado sudul and lado jambi. Lado sulur and lado anggor are not distinctions of species; the former denoting the cuttings of young creeping shoots commonly planted, in opposition to the latter, which is the term for planting by layers. SEASONS. The season of the pepper-vines bearing, as well as that of most other fruit-trees on Sumatra, is subject to great irregularities, owing perhaps to the uncertainty of the monsoons, which are not there so strictly periodical as on the western side of India. Generally speaking however the pepper produces two crops in the year; one called the greater crop (pupul agung) between the months of October and March; the other called the lesser or half crop (buah sello) between the months of April and September, which is small in proportion as the former has been considerable, and vice versa. Sometimes in particular districts they will be employed in gathering it in small quantities during the whole year round, whilst perhaps in others the produce of that year is confined to one crop; for, although the regular period between the appearance of the blossom and maturity is about four months, the whole does not ripen at once, and blossoms are frequently found on the same vine with green and ripe fruit. In Laye residency the principal harvest of pepper in the year 1766 was gathered between the months of February and May; in 1767 and 1768 about September and October; in 1778 between June and August; and for the four succeeding years was seldom received earlier than November and December. Long-continued droughts, which sometimes happen, stop the vegetation of the vines and retard the produce. This was particularly experienced in the year 1775, when, for a period of about eight months, scarcely a shower of rain fell to moisten the earth. The vines were deprived of their foliage, many gardens perished and a general destruction was expected. But this apparent calamity was attended with a consequence not foreseen, though analogous to the usual operations of nature in that climate. The natives, when they would force a tree that is backward to produce fruit, strip it of its leaves, by which means the nutritive juices are reserved for that more important use, and the blossoms soon begin to show themselves in abundance. A similar effect was displayed in the pepper gardens by the inclemency of the season. The vines, as soon as the rains began to descend, threw out blossoms in a profusion unknown before; old gardens which had been unprolific for two or three years began to bear; and accordingly the crop of 1776/1777 considerably surpassed that of many preceding years. TRANSPORTATION OF PEPPER. The pepper is mostly brought down from the country on rafts (rakit), which are sometimes composed of rough timbers, but usually of large bamboos, with a platform of split bamboos to keep the cargo dry. They are steered at both head and stern, in the more rapid rivers with a kind of rudder, or scull rather, having a broad blade fixed in a fork or crutch. Those who steer are obliged to exert the whole strength of the body in those places especially where the fall of water is steep, and the course winding; but the purchase of the scull is of so great power that they can move the raft bodily across the river when both ends are acted upon at the same time. But, notwithstanding their great dexterity and their judgment in choosing the channel, they are liable to meet with obstruction in large trees and rocks, which, from the violence of the stream, occasion their rafts to be overset, and sometimes dashed to pieces. It is a generally received opinion that pepper does not sustain any damage by an immersion in seawater; a circumstance that attends perhaps a fourth part of the whole quantity shipped from the coast. The surf, through which it is carried in an open boat, called a sampan lonchore, renders such accidents unavoidable. This boat, which carries one or two tons, being hauled up on the beach and there loaded, is shoved off, with a few people in it, by a number collected for that purpose, who watch the opportunity of a lull or temporary intermission of the swell. A tambangan, or long narrow vessel, built to contain from ten to twenty tons, (peculiar to the southern part of the coast), lies at anchor without to receive the cargoes from the sampans. At many places, where the kwallas, or mouths of the rivers, are tolerably practicable, the pepper is sent out at once in the tambangans over the bar; but this, owing to the common shallowness of the water and violence of the surfs, is attended with considerable risk. Thus the pepper is conveyed either to the warehouses at the head-settlement or to the ship from Europe lying there to receive it. About one-third part of the quantity of black pepper collected, but none of the white, is annually sent to China. Of the extent and circumstances of the trade in pepper carried on by private merchants (chiefly American) at the northern ports of Nalabu, Susu, and Mukki, where it is managed by the subjects of Achin, I have not any accurate information, and only know that it has increased considerably during the last twelve years. NUTMEGS AND CLOVES. It is well known with what jealousy and rigour the Batavian government has guarded against the transplantation of the trees producing nutmegs and cloves from the islands of Banda and Amboina to other parts of India. To elude its vigilance many attempts have been made by the English, who considered Sumatra to be well adapted, from its local circumstances, to the cultivation of these valuable spices; but all proved ineffectual, until the reduction of the eastern settlements in 1796 afforded the wished for opportunity, which was eagerly seized by Mr. Robert Broff, at that period chief of the Residency of Fort Marlborough. As the culture is now likely to become of importance to the trade of this country, and the history of its introduction may hereafter be thought interesting, I shall give it in Mr. Broff's own words: The acquisition of the nutmeg and clove plants became an object of my solicitude the moment I received by Captain Newcombe, of his Majesty's ship Orpheus, the news of the surrender of the islands where they are produced; being convinced, from the information I had received, that the country in the neighbourhood of Bencoolen, situated as it is in the same latitude with the Moluccas, exposed to the same periodical winds, and possessing the same kind of soil, would prove congenial to their culture. Under this impression I suggested to the other members of the Board the expediency of freighting a vessel for the twofold purpose of sending supplies to the forces at Amboina, for which they were in distress, and of bringing in return as many spice-plants as could be conveniently stowed. The proposition was acceded to, and a vessel, of which I was the principal owner (no other could be obtained), was accordingly dispatched in July 1806; but the plan was unfortunately frustrated by the imprudent conduct of a person on the civil establishment to whom the execution was entrusted. Soon afterwards however I had the good fortune to be more successful, in an application I made to Captain Hugh Moore, who commanded the Phoenix country ship, to undertake the importation, stipulating with him to pay a certain sum for every healthy plant he should deliver. FIRST INTRODUCTION. Complete success attended the measure: he returned in July 1798, and I had the satisfaction of planting myself, and distributing for that purpose, a number of young nutmeg and a few clove trees in the districts of Bencoolen and Silebar, and other more distant spots, in order to ascertain from experience the situations best adapted to their growth. I particularly delivered to Mr. Charles Campbell, botanist, a portion to be under his own immediate inspection; and another to Mr. Edward Coles, this gentleman having in his service a family who were natives of a spice island and had been used to the cultivation. When I quitted the coast in January 1799 I had the gratification of witnessing the prosperous state of the plantations, and of receiving information from the quarters where they had been distributed of their thriving luxuriantly; and since my arrival in England various letters have reached me to the same effect. To the merit therefore of introducing this important article, and of forming regulations for its successful culture, I put in my exclusive claim; and am fully persuaded that if a liberal policy is adopted it will become of the greatest commercial advantage to the Company and to the nation. ... Further light will be thrown upon this subject and the progress of the cultivation by the following extract of a letter to me from Mr. Campbell, dated in November 1803: Early in the year 1798 Mr. Broff, to whom the highest praise is due for his enterprising and considerative scheme of procuring the spice trees from our newly-conquered islands (after experiencing much disappointment and want of support) overcame every obstacle, and we received, through the agency of Mr. Jones, commercial resident at Amboina, five or six hundred nutmeg plants, with about fifty cloves; but these latter were not in a vigorous state. They were distributed and put generally under my inspection. Their culture was attended with various success, but Mr. Coles, from the situation of his farm, near Silebar River but not too close to the seashore, and from, I believe, bestowing more personal attention than any of us, has outstripped his competitors. Some trees which I planted as far inland as the Sugar-loaf Mountain blossomed with his, but the fruit was first perfected in his ground. The plants were dispatched from Amboina in March 1798, just bursting from the shell, and two months ago I plucked the perfect fruit, specimens of which I now send you; being a period of five years and nine months only; whereas in their native land eight years at least are commonly allowed. Having early remarked the great promise of the trees I tried by every means in my power to interest the Bengal government in our views, and at length, by the assistance of Dr. Roxburgh, I succeeded. SECOND IMPORTATION OF PLANTS. A few months ago his son arrived here from Amboina, with twenty-two thousand nutmeg plants, and upwards of six thousand cloves, which are already in my nurseries, and flourishing like those which preceded them. About the time the nutmegs fruited one clove tree flowered. Only three of the original importation had survived their transit and the accidents attending their planting out. Its buds are now filling, and I hope to transmit specimens of them also. The Malay chiefs have eagerly engaged in the cultivation of their respective shares. I have retained eight thousand nutmegs as a plantation from which the fruit may hereafter be disseminated. Every kind of soil and every variety of situation has been tried. The cloves are not yet widely dispersed, for, being a tender plant, I choose to have them under my own eye. ... Since the death of Mr. Campbell Mr. Roxburgh has been appointed to the superintendence, and the latest accounts from thence justify the sanguine expectations formed of the ultimate importance of the trade; there being at that period upwards of twenty thousand nutmeg trees in full bearing, capable of yielding annually two hundred thousand pounds weight of nutmegs, and fifty thousand pounds of mace. The clove plants have proved more delicate, but the quality of their spice equal to any produced in the Moluccas. CULTURE LEFT TO INDIVIDUALS. It is understood that the Company has declined the monopoly of the trade and left the cultivation to individual exertion; directing however that its own immediate plantations be kept up by the labour of convicts from Bengal, and reserving to itself an export duty of ten per cent on the value of the spices. CAMPHOR. Among the valuable productions of the island as articles of commerce a conspicuous place belongs to the camphor. This peculiar substance, called by the natives kapur-barus,* and distinguished by the epithet of native camphor from another sort which shall be mentioned hereafter, is a drug for which Sumatra and Borneo have been celebrated from the earliest times, and with the virtues of which the Arabian physicians appear to have been acquainted. Chemists formerly entertained opinions extremely discordant in regard to the nature and the properties of camphor; and even at this day they seem to be but imperfectly known. It is considered however as a sedative and powerful diaphoretic: but my province is to mention such particulars of its history as have come within my knowledge, leaving to others to investigate its most beneficial uses. (*Footnote. The word kapur appears to be derived from the Sanskrit karpura, and the Arabic and Persian kafur (from whence our camphor) to have been adopted from the language of the country where the article is produced. Barus is the name of a place in Sumatra.) PLACE OF GROWTH. The tree is a native of the northern parts of the island only, not being found to the southward of the line, nor yet beyond the third degree of north latitude. It grows without cultivation in the woods lying near to the sea-coast, and is equal in height and bulk to the largest timber trees, being frequently found upwards of fifteen feet in circumference. WOOD. For carpenters' purposes the wood is in much esteem, being easy to work, light, durable, and not liable to be injured by insects, particularly by the kumbang, a species of the bee, whose destructive perforations have been already mentioned; but is also said to be more affected than most others by the changes of the atmosphere. The leaf is small, of a roundish oval, the fibres running straight and parallel to each other, and terminates in a remarkably long and slender point. The flower has not yet been brought to England. The fruit is described by C.F. Gaertner (De Seminibus Volume 3 page 49 tab. 186) by the name of Dryobalanops aromatica, from specimens in the collection of Sir Joseph Banks; but he has unaccountably mistaken it for the cinnamon tree, and spoken of it as a native of Ceylon. It is also described, from the same specimens, by M. Correa de Serra (Annales du Museum d'Histoire Naturelle Tome 10 page 159 plate 8) by the name of Pterigium teres; without any reference whatever to the nature of the tree as yielding this valuable drug. A beautiful engraving of its very peculiar foliage has been made under the direction of Mr. A.B. Lambert. CAMPHOR FOUND IN THE FISSURES. The camphor is found in the concrete state in which we see it, in natural fissures or crevices of the wood, but does not exhibit any exterior appearance by which its existence can be previously ascertained, and the persons whose employment it is to collect it usually cut down a number of trees, almost at random, before they find one that contains a sufficient quantity to repay their labour, although always assisted in their research by a professional conjurer, whose skill must be chiefly employed in concealing or accounting for his own mistakes. It is said that not a tenth part of the number felled is productive either of camphor or of camphor-oil (meniak kapur), although the latter is less rare; and that parties of men are sometimes engaged for two or three months together in the forests, with very precarious success. This scarcity tends to enhance the price. The tree when cut down is divided transversely into several blocks, and these again are split with wedges into small pieces, from the interstices of which the camphor, if any there be, is extracted. That which comes away readily in large flakes, almost transparent, is esteemed the prime sort or head; the smaller, clean pieces are considered as belly, and the minute particles, chiefly scraped from the wood, and often mixed with it, are called foot; according to the customary terms adopted in the assortment of drugs. The mode of separating it from these and other impurities is by steeping and washing it in water, and sometimes with the aid of soap. It is then passed through sieves or screens of different apertures in order to make the assortment, so far as that depends upon the size of the grains; but much of the selection is also made by hand, and particular care is taken to distinguish from the more genuine kinds that which is produced by an artificial concretion of the essential oil. CAMPHOR OIL. The inquiries I formerly made on the subject (not having been myself in the district where the tree grows) led me to believe with confidence that the oil and the dry crystallized resin were not procured from the same individual tree; but in this I was first undeceived by Mr. R. Maidman, who in June 1788 wrote to me from Tappanuli, where he was resident, to the following effect: I beg your acceptance of a piece of camphor-wood, the genuine quality of which I can answer for, being cut by one of my own people, who was employed in making charcoal, of which the best for smiths' work is made from this wood. On cutting deep into a pretty large tree the fine oil suddenly gushed out and was lost for want of a receiver. He felled the tree, and, having split it, brought me three or four catties (four or five pounds) of the finest camphor I ever saw, and also this log, which is very rich. My reason for being thus particular is that the country people have a method of pouring oil of inferior camphor-trees into a log of wood that has natural cracks, and, by exposing this to the sun every day for a week, it appears like genuine camphor; but is the worst sort. ... This coexistence of the two products has been since confirmed to me by others, and is particularly stated by Mr. Macdonald in his ingenious paper on certain Natural Productions of Sumatra, published in the Asiatic Researches Volume 4 Calcutta 1795. It seems probable on the whole that, as the tree advances in age, a greater proportion of this essential oil takes a concrete form, and it has been observed to me that, when the fresh oil has been allowed to stand and settle, a sediment of camphor is procured; but the subject requires further examination by well-informed persons on the spot. PRICE. Head camphor is usually purchased from those who procure it at the rate of six Spanish dollars the pound, or eight dollars the catty, and sells in the China market at Canton for nine to twelve dollars the pound, or twelve to fifteen hundred dollars the pekul of a hundred catties or one hundred thirty-three pounds and a third, avoirdupois. When of superior quality it sells for two thousand dollars, and I have been assured that some small choice samples have produced upwards of thirty dollars per catty.* It is estimated that the whole quantity annually brought down for sale on the western side of the island does not exceed fifty pekul. The trade is chiefly in the hands of the Achinese settled at Sinkell, who buy the article from the Batta people and dispose of it to the Europeans and Chinese settlers. (*Footnote. See Price Currents of the China trade. Camphor was purchased in Sumatra by Commodore Beaulieu in 1622 at the rate of fifteen Spanish dollars for twenty-eight ounces, which differs but little from the modern price. In the Transactions of the Society at Batavia it appears that the camphor of Borneo sells in their market for 3200 rix dollars, and that of Japan for 50 rix dollars the pekul.) JAPAN CAMPHOR. It has been commonly supposed that the people of China or Japan prepare a factitious substance resembling native camphor, and impregnated with its virtues by the admixture of a small quantity of the genuine, which is sold to the Dutch factory for thirty or forty dollars the pekul, sent to Holland, and afterwards refined to the state in which we see it in our shops, where it is sold at eight to twelve shillings the pound. It appears however an extraordinary circumstance that any article could possibly be so adulterated, bearing at the same time the likeness and retaining the sensible qualities of its original, as that the dealers should be enabled, with profit to themselves to resell it for the fiftieth part of the price they gave. But, upon inquiry of an ingenious person long resident in China, I learned that the Japan camphor is by no means a factitious substance, but the genuine produce of a tree growing in abundance in the latter country, different in every character from that of Sumatra or Borneo, and well known to our botanists by the name of Laurus camphora, L. He further informed me that the Chinese never mix the Sumatran camphor with that from Japan, but purchase the former for their own use, at the before-mentioned extravagant price, from an idea of its efficacy, probably superstitious, and export the latter as a drug not held in any particular estimation. Thus we buy the leaves of their tea-plant at a high rate and neglect herbs, the natives of our own soil, possessing perhaps equal virtues. It is known also that the Japan camphor, termed factitious, will evaporate till it wholly disappears, and at all stages of its diminution retain its full proportion of strength; which does not seem the property of an adulterated or compounded body. Kaempfer informs us that it is prepared from a decoction of the wood and roots of the tree cut into small pieces; and the form of the lumps in which it is brought to us shows that it has undergone a process. The Sumatran sort, though doubtless from its extreme volatility it must be subject to decrease, does not lose any very sensible quantity from being kept, as I find from the experience of many years that it has been in my possession. It probably may not be very easy to ascertain its superiority over the other in the materia medica, not being brought for sale to this country, nor generally administered; but from a medical person who practised at Bencoolen I learned that the usual dose he gave was from half a grain to one or two grains at the most. The oil, although hitherto of little importance as an article of commerce, is a valuable domestic medicine, and much used by the natives as well as Europeans in cases of strains, swellings, and rheumatic pains; its particles, from their extreme subtlety, readily entering the pores. It undergoes no preparation, and is used in the state in which, upon incision, it has distilled from the tree. The kayu putih (Melaleuca leucadendron) oil, which is somewhat better known in England, is obtained in the same manner; but to procure the meniak kayu or common wood-oil, used for preserving timber or boards exposed to the weather, from decay, and for boiling with dammar to pay the bottoms of ships and boats, the following method is practised. They make a transverse incision into the tree to the depth of some inches, and then cut sloping down from the notch, till they leave a flat superficies. This they hollow out to a capacity to receive about a quart. They then put into the hollow a bit of lighted reed, and let it remain for about ten minutes, which, acting as a stimulus, draws the fluid to that part. In the space of a night the liquor fills the receptacle prepared for it, and the tree continues to yield a lesser quantity for three successive nights, when the fire must be again applied: but on a few repetitions it is exhausted. BENZOIN. Benzoin or Benjamin (Styrax benzoin*) called by the Malays kami­nian, is, like the camphor, found almost exclusively in the Batta country, to the northward of the equator, but not in the Achinese dominions immediately beyond that district. It is also met with, though rarely, south of the line, but there, either from natural inferiority or want of skill in collecting it, the small quantity produced is black and of little value. The tree does not grow to any considerable size, and is of no value as timber. The seeds or nuts, which are round, of a brown colour, and about the size of a moderate bolus, are sown in the padi-fields and afterwards require no other cultivation than to clear away the shrubs from about the young plants. In some places, especially near the sea-coast, large plantations of it are formed, and it is said that the natives, sensible of the great advantage accruing to them from the trade, in a national point of view, oblige the proprietors, by legal regulation, to keep up the succession. (*Footnote. See a Botanical Description of this tree by my friend Mr. Jonas Dryander, with a plate, in Volume 77 page 307 of the Philosophical Transactions for the year 1787.) MODE OF PROCURING IT. When the trees have attained the age of about seven years, and are six or eight inches in diameter, incisions are made in the bark, from whence the balsam or gum (as it is commonly termed, although being soluble in spirits and not in water, it is rather a resin) exudes, which is carefully pared off. The purest of the gum, or Head benzoin, is that which comes from these incisions during the first three years, and is white, inclining to yellow, soft, and fragrant; after which it gradually changes to the second sort, which is of a reddish yellow, degenerating to brown; and at length when the tree, which will not bear a repetition of the process for more than ten or twelve years, is supposed to be worn out, they cut it down, and when split in pieces procure, by scraping, the worst sort, or Foot benzoin, which is dark coloured, hard, and mixed more or less with parings of the wood and other impurities. The Head is further distinguished into Europe and India-head, of which the first is superior, and is the only sort adapted to the home market: the latter, with most of the inferior sorts, is exported to Arabia,* Persia, and some parts of India, where it is burned to perfume with its smoke their temples and private houses, expel troublesome insects, and obviate the pernicious effects of unwholesome air or noxious exhalations; in addition to which uses, in the Malayan countries, it is always considered as a necessary part of the apparatus in administering an oath. It is brought down from the country for sale in large cakes, called tampang, covered with mats; and these, as a staple commodity, are employed in their dealings for a standard of value, to which the price of other things have reference, as in most parts of the world to certain metals. In order to pack it in chests it is necessary to soften the coarser sorts with boiling water; for the finer it is sufficient to break the lumps and to expose it to the heat of the sun. The greater part of the quantity brought to England is re-exported from thence to countries where the Roman Catholic and Mahometan religions prevail, to be there burnt as incense in the churches and temples.** The remainder is chiefly employed in medicine, being much esteemed as an expectorant and styptic, and constitutes the basis of that valuable balsam distinguished by the name of Turlington, whose very salutary effects, particularly in healing green and other wounds, is well known to persons abroad who cannot always obtain surgical assistance. It is also employed, if I am not misinformed, in the preparation of court sticking-plaster. The gum or resin called dulang is named by us scented benzoin from its peculiar fragrance. The rasamala (Lignum papuanum of Rumphius, and Altingia excelsa of the Batavian Transactions) is a sort of wild benzoin, of little value, and not, in Sumatra, considered as an object of commerce. (*Footnote. Les Arabes tirent beaucoup d'autres sortes d'encens de l'Habbesch, de Sumatra, Siam, Java, etc. et parmi celles-la une qu'ils appellent Bachor (bakhor) Java, et que les Anglois nomment Benzoin, est tres semblable a l'Oliban. On en exporte en grande quantite en Turquie parles golfes d'Arabie et de Perse, et la moindre des trois especes de Benzoin, que les marchands vendent, est estimee meilleure que l'Oliban d'Arabie. Niebuhr, Description de l'Arabie page 126.) (**Footnote. According to Mr. Jackson the annual importation of Benzoin at Mogodor from London is about 13,000 pounds annually.) CASSIA. Cassia or kulit manis (Laurus cassia) is a coarse species of cinnamon which flourishes chiefly, as well as the two foregoing articles, in the northern part of the island; but with this difference, that the camphor and benzoin grow only near the coast, whereas the cassia is a native of the central parts of the country. It is mostly procured in those districts which lie inland of Tapanuli, but it is also found in Musi, where Palembang River takes its rise. The leaves are about four inches long, narrower than the bay (to which tribe it belongs) and more pointed; deep green; smooth surface, and plain edge. The principal fibres take their rise from the peduncle. The young leaves are mostly of reddish hue. The blossoms grow six in number upon slender foot­stalks, close to the bottom of the leaf. They are monopetalous, small, white, stellated in six points. The stamina are six, with one stile, growing from the germen, which stands up in three brownish segments, resembling a cup. The trees grow from fifty to sixty feet high, with large, spreading, horizontal branches, almost as low as the earth. The root is said to contain much camphor that may be obtained by boiling or other processes unknown on Sumatra. No pains is bestowed on the cultivation of the cassia. The bark, which is the part in use, is commonly taken from such of the trees as are a foot or eighteen inches diameter, for when they are younger it is said to be so thin as to lose all its qualities very soon. The difference of soil and situation alters considerably the value of the bark. Those trees which grow in a high rocky soil have red shoots, and the bark is superior to that which is produced in a moist clay, where the shoots are green. I have been assured by a person of extensive knowledge that the cassia produced on Sumatra is from the same tree which yields the true cinnamon, and that the apparent difference arises from the less judicious manner of quilling it. Perhaps the younger and more tender branches should be preferred; perhaps the age of the tree or the season of the year ought to be more nicely attended to; and lastly I have known it to be suggested that the mucilaginous slime which adheres to the inside of the fresh peeled rind does, when not carefully wiped off, injure the flavour of the cassia and render it inferior to that of the cinnamon. I am informed that it has been purchased by Dutch merchants at our India sales, where it sometimes sold to much loss, and afterwards by them shipped for Spain as cinnamon, being packed in boxes which had come from Ceylon with that article. The price it bears in the island is about ten or twelve dollars the pecul. RATTANS. Rattans or rotan (Calamus rotang) furnish annually many large cargoes, chiefly from the eastern side of the island, where the Dutch buy them to send to Europe; and the country traders for the western parts of India. Walking-canes, or tongkat, of various kinds, are also produced near the rivers which open to the straits of Malacca. COTTON. In almost every part of the country two species of cotton are cultivated, namely, the annual sort named kapas (Gossypium herbaceum), and the shrub cotton named kapas besar (Gossypium herboreum). The cotton produced from both appears to be of very good quality, and might, with encouragement, be procured in any quantities; but the natives raise no more than is necessary for their own domestic manufactures. The silk cotton or kapok (bombax) is also to be met with in every village. This is, to appearance, one of the most beautiful raw materials the hand of nature has presented. Its fineness, gloss, and delicate softness render it, to the sight and touch, much superior to the labour of the silkworm; but owing to the shortness and brittleness of the staple it is esteemed unfit for the reel and loom, and is only applied to the unworthy purpose of stuffing pillows and mattresses. Possibly it has not undergone a fair trial in the hands of our ingenious artists, and we may yet see it converted into a valuable manufacture. It grows in pods, from four to six inches long, which burst open when ripe. The seeds entirely resemble the black pepper, but are without taste. The tree is remarkable from the branches growing out perfectly straight and horizontal, and being always three, forming equal angles, at the same height: the diminutive shoots likewise grow flat; and the several gradations of branches observe the same regularity to the top. Some travellers have called it the umbrella tree, but the piece of furniture called a dumb-waiter exhibits a more striking picture of it. BETEL-NUT. The betel-nut or pinang (Areca catechu) before mentioned is a considerable article of traffic to the coast of Coromandel or Telinga, particularly from Achin. COFFEE. The coffee-trees are universally planted, but the fruit produced here is not excellent in quality, which is probably owing entirely to the want of skill in the management of them. The plants are disposed too close to each other, and are so much overshaded by other trees that the sun cannot penetrate to the fruit; owing to which the juices are not well ripened, and the berries, which become large, do not acquire a proper flavour. Add to this that the berries are gathered whilst red, which is before they have arrived at a due degree of maturity, and which the Arabs always permit them to attain to, esteeming it essential to the goodness of the coffee. As the tree is of the same species with that cultivated in Arabia there is little doubt but with proper care this article might be produced of a quality equal, perhaps superior, to that imported from the West Indies; though probably the heavy rains on Sumatra may prevent its attaining to the perfection of the coffee of Mocha.* (*Footnote. For these observations on the growth of the coffee, as well as many others on the vegetable productions of the island, I am indebted to the letters of Mr. Charles Miller, entered on the Company's records at Bencoolen, and have to return him my thanks for many communications since his return to England. On the subject of this article of produce I have since received the following interesting information from the late Mr. Charles Campbell in a letter dated November 1803. "The coffee you recollect on this coast I found so degenerated from want of culture and care as not to be worth the rearing. But this objection has been removed, for more than three years ago I procured twenty-five plants from Mocha; they produced fruit in about twenty months, are now in their second crop, and loaded beyond any fruit-trees I ever saw. The average produce is about eight pounds a tree; but so much cannot be expected in extensive plantations, nor in every soil. The berries are in no respect inferior in flavour to those of the parent country." This cultivation, I am happy to hear, has since been carried to a great extent.) (PLATE 2. THE DAMMAR, A SPECIES OF PINUS. Sinensis delt. Swaine Sc. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) DAMMAR. The dammar is a kind of turpentine or resin from a species of pine, and used for the same purposes to which that and pitch are applied. It is exported in large quantities to Bengal and elsewhere. It exudes, or flows rather, spontaneously from the tree in such plenty that there is no need of making incisions to procure it. The natives gather it in lumps from the ground where it has fallen, or collect it from the shores of bays and rivers whither it has floated. It hangs from the bough of the tree which produces it in large pieces, and hardening in the air it becomes brittle and is blown off by the first high wind. When a quantity of it has fallen in the same place it appears like a rock, and thence, they say, or more probably from its hardness, it is called dammar batu; by which name it is distinguished from the dammar kruyen. This is another species of turpentine, yielded by a tree growing in Lampong, called kruyen, the wood of which is white and porous. It differs from the common sort, or dammar batu, in being soft and whitish, having the consistence and somewhat the appearance of putty. It is in much estimation for paying the bottoms of vessels, for which use, to give it firmness and duration, it ought to be mixed with some of the hard kind, of which it corrects the brittleness. The natives, in common, do not boil it, but rub or smear it on with their hands; a practice which is probably derived from indolence, unless, as I have been informed, that boiling it, without oil, renders it hard. To procure it, an incision is made in the tree. DRAGONS-BLOOD. Dragons-blood, Sanguis draconis, or jaranang, is a drug obtained from a large species of rattan, called rotan jaranang, growing abundantly in the countries of Palembang and Jambi, where it is manufactured and exported, in the first instance to Batavia, and from thence to China, where it is held in much estimation; but whether it be precisely the drug of our shops, so named, I cannot take upon me to determine. I am informed that it is prepared in the following manner: the stamina and other parts of fructification of this plant, covered with the farina, are mixed with a certain proportion of white dammar, and boiled in water until the whole is well incorporated, and the water evaporated; by which time the composition has acquired a red colour, and, when rubbed between the fingers, comes off in a dry powder. Whilst soft, it is usually poured into joints of small bamboo, and shipped in that state. According to this account, which I received from my friend Mr. Philip Braham, who had an opportunity of acquiring a knowledge of the process, the resinous quality of the drug belongs only to the dammar, and not to the rotan. GAMBIR. Gambir, or gatah gambir, is a juice extracted from the leaves of a plant of that name, inspissated by decoction, strained, suffered to cool and harden, and then cut into cakes of different shapes, or formed into balls. It is very generally eaten by the natives with their sirih or betel, and is supposed to have the property of cleansing and sweetening the mouth; for which reason it is also rubbed to the gums of infants. For a minute detail of the culture and manufacture of this article at Malacca see the Batavian Transactions Volume 2 page 356, where the plant is classed between the portlandia and roella of L. In other places it is obtained from a climbing or trailing plant, evidently the Funis uncatus of Rumphius.* See also Observations on the Nauclea Gambir, by Mr. W. Hunter, in the Linnean Transactions Volume 9 page 218. At Siak, Kampar, and Indragiri, on the eastern side of Sumatra, it is an important article of commerce. (*Footnote. Hoc unum adhuc addendum est, in Sumatra nempe ac forte in Java aliam quoque esse plantam repentem gatta gambir akar dictam, qum forte unae eaedemque erunt plantae; ac verbum akar Malaiensibus denotat non tantum radicem, sed repentem quoque fruticem. Volume 5 page 64.) LIGNUM ALOES. The agallochin, agila-wood, or lignum aloes, called by the natives kalambak and kayu gahru, is highly prized in all parts of the East, for the fragrant scent it emits in burning. I find these two names used indiscriminately in Malayan writings, and sometimes coupled together; but Valentyn pronounces the gahru to be an inferior species, and the Batavian Catalogue describes it as the heart of the rasamala, and different from the genuine kalambak. This unctuous substance, which burns like a resin, is understood to be the decayed, and probably disordered, part of the tree. It is described by Kaempfer (Amaenit page 903) under the Chinese name of sinkoo, and by Dr. Roxburgh under that of Aquillaria agallocha. TIMBER. The forests contain an inexhaustible store and endless variety of timber trees, many sorts of which are highly valuable and capable of being applied to ship-building and other important purposes. On the western coast the general want of navigable rivers has materially hindered both the export and the employment of timber; but those on the eastern side, particularly Siak, have heretofore supplied the city of Batavia with great abundance, and latterly the naval arsenal at Pulo Pinang with what is required for the construction of ships of war. TEAK. The teak however, the pride of Indian forests, called by the Malays jati (Tectona grandis, L.), does not appear to be indigenous to this island, although flourishing to the northward and southward of it, in Pegu and Java; and I believe it is equally a stranger to the Malayan peninsula. Attempts have been made by the servants of the Company to promote its cultivation. Mr. Robert Hay had a plantation near Bencoolen, but the situation seemed unfavourable. Mr. John Marsden, when resident of Laye in the year 1776, sowed some seeds of it, and distributed a quantity amongst the inhabitants of his district. The former, at least, throve exceedingly, as if in their natural soil. The appearance of the tree is stately, the leaves are broad and large, and they yield, when squeezed, a red juice. The wood is well known to be, in many respects, preferable to oak, working more kindly, surpassing it in durability, and having the peculiar property of preserving the iron bolts driven into it from rust; a property that may be ascribed to the essential oil or tar contained in it, and which has lately been procured from it in large quantities by distillation at Bombay. Many ships built at that place have continued to swim so long that none could recollect the period at which they were launched. POON, ETC. For masts and yards the wood preferred is the red bintangur (a species of uvaria), which in all the maritime parts of India has obtained the name of poon or puhn, from the Malayan word signifying tree in general; as puhn upas, the poison-tree, puhn kayu, a timber-tree, etc. The camphor-wood, so useful for carpenters' purposes, has been already mentioned. Kayu pindis or kapini (species of metrosideros), is named also kayu besi, or iron-wood, on account of its extraordinary hardness, which turns the edge of common tools. Marbau (Metrosideros amboinensis, R.) grows to a large size, and is used for beams both in ship and house­building, as well as for other purposes to which oak is applied in Europe. Pinaga is valuable as crooked timber, and used for frames and knees of ships, being also very durable. It frequently grows in the wash of the sea. Juar, ebony, called in the Batavian Catalogue kayu arang, or charcoal-wood, is found here in great plenty. Kayu gadis, a wood possessing the flavour and qualities of the sassafras, and used for the same purposes in medicine, but in the growth of the tree resembling rather our elm than the laurus (to which latter tribe the American sassafras belongs), is very common in the plains near Bencoolen. Kayu arau (Casuarina littorea) is often termed a bastard-pine, and as such gave name to the Isle of Pines discovered by Captain Cook. By the Malays it is usually called kayu chamara, from the resemblance of its branches to the ornamental cowtails of Upper India. It has been already remarked of this tree, whose wood is not particularly useful, that it delights in a low sandy soil, and is ever the first that springs up from land relinquished by the sea. The rangas or rungi, commonly supposed to be the manchineel of the West Indies, but perhaps only from the noxious quality of its juices, is the Arbor vernicis of Rumphius, and particularly described in the Batavian Transactions Volume 5 under the name of Manga deleteria sylvestris, fructu parvo cordiformi. In a list of plants in the same volume, by F. Norona, it is termed Anacardium encardium. The wood has some resemblance to mahogany, is worked up into articles of furniture, and resists the destructive ravages of the white ant, but its hardness and acrid sap, which blisters the hands of those employed about it, are objections to its general use. I am not aware of the natives procuring a varnish from this tree. Of the various sorts of tree producing dammar, some are said to be valuable as timber, particularly the species called dammar laut, not mentioned by Rumphius, which is employed at Pulo Pinang for frame timbers of ships, beams, and knees. Kamuning (camunium, R. chalcas paniculata, Lour.) is a light-coloured wood, close, and finely grained, takes an exquisite polish, and is used for the sheaths of krises. There is also a red-grained sort, in less estimation. The appearance of the tree is very beautiful, resembling in its leaves the larger myrtle, with a white flower. The langsani likewise is a wood handsomely veined, and is employed for cabinet and carved work. Beside these the kinds of wood most in use are the madang, ballam, maranti, laban, and marakuli. The variety is much greater, but many, from their porous nature and proneness to decay, are of very little value, and scarcely admit of seasoning before they become rotten. I cannot quit the vegetable kingdom without noticing a tree which, although of no use in manufacture or commerce, not peculiar to the island, and has been often described, merits yet, for its extreme singularity, that it should not be passed over in silence. This is the jawi-jawi and ulang-ulang of the Malays, the banyan tree of the continent, the Grossularia domestica of Rumphius, and the Ficus indica or Ficus racemosa of Linnaeus. It possesses the uncommon property of dropping roots or fibres from certain parts of its boughs, which, when they touch the earth, become new stems, and go on increasing to such an extent that some have measured, in circumference of the branches, upwards of a thousand feet, and have been said to afford shelter to a troop of horse.* These fibres, that look like ropes attached to the branches, when they meet with any obstruction in their descent conform themselves to the shape of the resisting body, and thus occasion many curious metamorphoses. I recollect seeing them stand in the perfect shape of a gate long after the original posts and cross piece had decayed and disappeared; and I have been told of their lining the internal circumference of a large bricked well, like the worm in a distiller's tub; there exhibiting the view of a tree turned inside out, the branches pointing to the centre, instead of growing from it. It is not more extraordinary in its manner of growth than whimsical and fantastic in its choice of situations. From the side of a wall or the top of a house it seems to spring spontaneously. Even from the smooth surface of a wooden pillar, turned and painted, I have seen it shoot forth, as if the vegetative juices of the seasoned timber had renewed their circulation and begun to produce leaves afresh. I have seen it flourish in the centre of a hollow tree of a very different species, which however still retained its verdure, its branches encompassing those of the adventitious plant whilst its decayed trunk enclosed the stem, which was visible, at interstices, from nearly the level of the plain on which they grew. This in truth appeared so striking a curiosity that I have often repaired to the spot to contemplate the singularity of it. How the seed from which it is produced happens to occupy stations seemingly so unnatural is not easily determined. Some have imagined the berries carried thither by the wind, and others, with more appearance of truth, by the birds; which, cleansing their bills where they light, or attempt to light, leave, in those places, the seeds adhering by the viscous matter which surrounds them. However this be, the jawi-jawi, growing on buildings without earth or water, and deriving from the genial atmosphere its principle of nourishment, proves in its increasing growth highly destructive to the fabric where it is harboured; for the fibrous roots, which are at first extremely fine, penetrate common cements, and, overcoming as their size enlarges the most powerful resistance, split, with the force of the mechanic wedge, the most substantial brickwork. When the consistence is such as not to admit the insinuation of the fibres the root extends itself along the outside, and to an extraordinary length, bearing not unfrequently to the stem the proportion of eight to one when young. I have measured the former sixty inches, when the latter, to the extremity of the leaf, which took up a third part, was no more than eight inches. I have also seen it wave its boughs at the apparent height of two hundred feet, of which the roots, if we may term them such, occupied at least one hundred; forming by their close combination the appearance of a venerable gothic pillar. It stood near the plains of Krakap, but, like other monuments of antiquity, it had its period of existence, and is now no more. (*Footnote. The following is an account of the dimensions of a remarkable banyan or burr tree, near Manjee, twenty miles west of Patna in Bengal. Diameter 363 to 375 feet. Circumference of shadow at noon 1116 feet. Circumference of the several stems, in number fifty or sixty, 921 feet. Under this tree sat a naked Fakir, who had occupied that situation for twenty-five years; but he did not continue there the whole year through, for his vow obliged him to lie, during the four cold months, up to his neck in the waters of the river Ganges.) (PLATE 18. ENTRANCE OF PADANG RIVER. With Buffaloes.) (PLATE 18A. VIEW OF PADANG HILL. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) CHAPTER 8. GOLD, TIN, AND OTHER METALS. BEESWAX. IVORY. BIRDS-NEST, ETC. IMPORT-TRADE. GOLD. Beside those articles of trade afforded by the vegetable kingdom Sumatra produces many others, the chief of which is gold. This valuable metal is found mostly in the central parts of the island; none (or with few exceptions) being observed to the southward of Limun, a branch of Jambi River, nor to the northward of Nalabu, from which port Achin is principally supplied. Menangkabau has always been esteemed the richest seat of it; and this consideration probably induced the Dutch to establish their head factory at Padang, in the immediate neighbourhood of that kingdom. Colonies of Malays from thence have settled themselves in almost all the districts where gold is procured, and appear to be the only persons who dig for it in mines, or collect it in streams; the proper inhabitants or villagers confining their attention to the raising of provisions, with which they supply those who search for the metal. Such at least appears to be the case in Limun, Batang Asei, and Pakalang jambu, where a considerable gold trade is carried on. It has been generally understood at the English settlements that earth taken up from the beds of rivers, or loosened from the adjacent banks, and washed by means of rivulets diverted towards the newly-opened ground, furnishes the greater proportion of the gold found in the island, and that the natives are not accustomed to venture upon any excavation that deserves the name of mining; but our possession, during the present war, of the settlements that belonged to the Dutch, has enabled us to form juster notions on the subject, and the following account, obtained from well-informed persons on the spot, will show the methods pursued in both processes, and the degree of enterprise and skill employed by the workmen. In the districts situated inland of Padang, which is the principal mart for this article, little is collected otherwise than from mines (tambang) by people whose profession it is to work them, and who are known by the appellation of orang gulla. The metal brought down for sale is for the most part of two sorts, distinguished by the terms amas supayang and amas sungei-abu, from the names of places where they are respectively procured. The former is what we usually call rock-gold, consisting of pieces of quartz more or less intermixed with veins of gold, generally of fine quality, running through it in all directions, and forming beautiful masses, which, being admired by Europeans, are sometimes sold by weight as if the whole were solid metal. The mines yielding this sort are commonly situated at the foot of a mountain, and the shafts are driven horizontally to the extent of from eight to twenty fathoms. The gold to which sungei-abu gives name is on the contrary found in the state of smooth solid lumps, in shape like gravel, and of various sizes, the largest lump that I have seen weighing nine ounces fifteen grains, and one in my possession (for which I am indebted to Mr. Charles Holloway) weighing eight grains less than nine ounces. This sort is also termed amas lichin or smooth gold, and appears to owe that quality to its having been exposed, in some prior state of the soil or conformation of the earth, to the action of running water, and deprived of its sharp and rough edges by attrition. This form of gravel is the most common in which gold is discovered. Gold-dust or amas urei is collected either in the channels of brooks running over ground rich in the metal, in standing pools of water occasioned by heavy rains, or in a number of holes dug in a situation to which a small rapid stream can be directed. The tools employed in working the mines are an iron crow three feet in length, called tabah, a shovel called changkul, and a heavy iron mallet or hammer, the head of which is eighteen inches in length and as thick as a man's leg, with a handle in the middle. With this they beat the lumps of rock till they are reduced to powder, and the pounded mass is then put into a sledge or tray five or six feet long and one and a half broad, in the form of a boat, and thence named bidu. To this vessel a rope of iju is attached, by which they draw it when loaded out of the horizontal mine to the nearest place where they can meet with a supply of water, which alone is employed to separate the gold from the pulverized quartz. In the perpendicular mines the smooth or gravel-gold is often found near the surface, but in small quantities, improving as the workmen advance, and again often vanishing suddenly. This they say is most likely to be the case when after pursuing a poor vein they suddenly come to large lumps. When they have dug to the depth of four, six, or sometimes eight fathoms (which they do at a venture, the surface not affording any indications on which they can depend), they work horizontally, supporting the shaft with timbers; but to persons acquainted with the berg-werken of Germany or Hungary, these pits would hardly appear to merit the appellation of mines.* In Siberia however, as in Sumatra, the hills yield their gold by slightly working them. Sand is commonly met with at the depth of three or four fathoms, and beneath this a stratum of napal or steatite, which is considered as a sign that the metal is near; but the least fallible mark is a red stone, called batu kawi, lying in detached pieces. It is mostly found in red and white clay, and often adhering to small stones, as well as in homogeneous lumps. The gold is separated from the clay by means of water poured on a hollow board, in the management of which the persons employed are remarkably expert. (*Footnote. It has been observed to me that it is not so much the want of windlasses or machines (substitutes for which they are ready enough at contriving) that prevents excavation to a great depth as the apprehension of earthquakes, the effect of which has frequently been to overwhelm them before they could escape even from their shallow mines.) In these perpendicular mines the water is drawn off by hand in pails or buckets. In the horizontal they make two shafts or entries in a direction parallel to each other, as far as they mean to extend the work, and there connect them by a cross trench. One of these, by a difference in their respective levels, serves as a drain to carry off the water, whilst the other is kept dry. They work in parties of from four or five to forty or fifty in number; the proprietor of the ground receiving one half of the produce and the undertakers the other; and it does not appear that the prince receives any established royalty. The hill people affect a kind of independence or equality which they express by the term of sama rata. It may well be imagined that mines of this description are very numerous, and in the common estimation of the natives they amount to no fewer than twelve hundred in the dominions of Menangkabau. A considerable proportion of their produce (perhaps one half) never comes into the hands of Europeans but is conveyed to the eastern side of the island, and yet I have been assured on good authority that from ten to twelve thousand ounces have annually been received, on public and private account, at Padang alone; at Nalabu about two thousand, Natal eight hundred, and Moco-moco six hundred. The quality of the gold collected in the Padang districts is inferior to that purchased at Natal and Moco-moco, in consequence of the practice of blending together the unequal produce of such a variety of mines which in other parts it is customary to keep distinct. The gold from the former is of the fineness of from nineteen to twenty-one, and from the latter places is generally of from twenty-two to twenty-three carats. The finest that has passed through my hands was twenty-three carats, one grain and a half, assayed at the Tower of London. Gold of an inferior touch, called amas muda from the paleness of its colour, is found in the same countries where the other is produced. I had some assayed which was two carats three grains worse than standard, and contained an alloy of silver, but not in a proportion to be affected by the acids. I have seen gold brought from Mampawah in Borneo which was in the state of a fine uniform powder, high-coloured, and its degree of fineness not exceeding fifteen or sixteen carats. The natives suppose these differences to proceed from an original essential inferiority of the metal, not possessing the art of separating it from the silver or copper. In this island it is never found in the state of ore, but is always completely metallic. A very little pale gold is now and then found in the Lampong country. Of those who dig for it the most intelligent, distinguished by the name of sudagar or merchants, are intrusted by the rest with their collections, who carry the gold to the places of trade on the great eastern rivers, or to the settlements on the west coast, where they barter it for iron (of which large quantities are consumed in tools for working the mines), opium, and the fine piece-goods of Madras and Bengal with which they return heavily loaded to their country. In some parts of the journey they have the convenience of water-carriage on lakes and rivers; but in others they carry on their backs a weight of about eighty pounds through woods, over streams, and across mountains, in parties generally of one hundred or more, who have frequent occasion to defend their property against the spirit of plunder and extortion which prevails among the poorer nations through whose districts they are obliged to pass. Upon the proposal of striking out any new road the question always asked by these intermediate people is, apa ontong kami, what is to be our advantage? PRICE. When brought to our settlements it was formerly purchased at the rate of eighteen Spanish dollars the tail, or about three pounds five shillings the ounce, but in later times it has risen to twenty-one dollars, or to three pounds eighteen shillings the ounce. Upon exportation to Europe therefore it scarcely affords a profit to the original buyer, and others who employ it as a remittance incur a loss when insurance and other incidental charges are deducted. A duty of five per cent which it had been customary to charge at the East India-house was, about twenty years ago, most liberally remitted by the Company upon a representation made by me to the Directors of the hardship sustained in this respect by its servants at Fort Marlborough, and the public benefit that would accrue from giving encouragement to the importation of bullion. The long continuance of war and peculiar risk of Indian navigation resulting from it may probably have operated to counteract these good effects. It has generally been thought surprising that the European Companies who have so long had establishments in Sumatra should not have considered it an object to work these mines upon a regular system, with proper machinery, and under competent inspection; but the attempt has in fact been made, and experience and calculation may have taught them that it is not a scheme likely to be attended with success, owing among other causes to the dearness of labour, and the necessity it would occasion for keeping up a force in distant parts of the country for the protection of the persons engaged and the property collected. Europeans cannot be employed upon such work in that climate, and the natives are unfit for (nor would they submit to) the laborious exertion required to render the undertaking profitable. A detailed and in many respects interesting account of the working a gold mine at Sileda, with a plate representing a section of the mine, is given by Elias Hesse,* who in the year 1682 accompanied the Bergh-Hoofdman, Benj. Olitzsch, and a party of miners from Saxony, sent out by the Dutch East India Company for that purpose. The superintendent, with most of his people, lost their lives, and the undertaking failed. It is said at Padang that the metal proved to be uncommonly poor. Many years later trial was made of a vein running close to that settlement; but the returns not being adequate to the expense it was let to farm, and in a few years fell into such low repute as to be at length disposed of by public auction at a rent of two Spanish dollars.** The English company, also having intelligence of a mine said to be discovered near Fort Marlborough, gave orders for its being worked; but if it ever existed no trace now remains. (*Footnote. Ost-Indische Reise-beschreibung oder Diarium. Leipzig 1690 octavo. See also J.W. Vogel's Ost-Indianische Reise-beschreibung. Altenburg 1704 octavo.) (**Footnote. The following is an extract of a letter from Mr. James Moore, a servant of the Company, dated from Padang in 1778. "They have lately opened a vein of gold in the country inland of this place, from which the governor at one time received a hundred and fifty tials (two hundred ounces). He has procured a map to be made of a particular part of the gold country, which points out the different places where they work for it; and also the situation of twenty-one Malay forts, all inhabited and in repair. These districts are extremely populous compared to the more southern part of the island. They collect and export annually to Batavia about two thousand five hundred tials of gold from this place: the quantity never exceeds three thousand tials nor falls short of two thousand." This refers to the public export on the Company's account, which agrees with what is stated in the Batavian Transactions. "In een goed Jaar geeven de Tigablas cottas omtrent 3000 Thail, zynde 6 Thail een Mark, dus omtrent 500 Mark Goud, van 't gchalte van 19 tot 20 carat.") Before the gold dust is weighed for sale, in order to cleanse it from all impurities and heterogeneous mixtures, whether natural or fraudulent, (such as filings of copper or of iron) a skilful person is employed who, by the sharpness of his eye and long practice, is able to effect this to a surprising degree of nicety. The dust is spread out on a kind of wooden platter, and the base particles (lanchong) are touched out from the mass and put aside one by one with an instrument, if such it may be termed, made of cotton cloth rolled up to a point. If the honesty of these gold­cleaners can be depended upon their dexterity is almost infallible; and as some check upon the former it is usual to pour the contents of each parcel when thus cleansed into a vessel of aqua-fortis, which puts their accuracy to the test. The parcels or bulses in which the gold is packed up are formed of the integument that covers the heart of the buffalo. This has the appearance of bladder, but is both tougher and more pliable. In those parts of the country where the traffic in the article is considerable it is generally employed as currency instead of coin; every man carries small scales about him, and purchases are made with it so low as to the weight of a grain or two of padi. Various seeds are used as gold weights, but more especially these two: the one called rakat or saga-timbangan (Glycine abrus L. or Abrus maculatus of the Batavian Transactions) being the well-known scarlet pea with a black spot, twenty-four of which constitute a mas, and sixteen mas a tail: the other called saga­puhn and kondori batang (Adenanthera pavonia, L.), a scarlet or rather coral bean, much larger than the former and without the black spot. It is the candarin-weight of the Chinese, of which a hundred make a tail, and equal, according to the tables published by Stevens, to 5.7984 gr. troy; but the average weight of those in my possession is 10.50 grains. The tail differs however in the northern and southern parts of the island, being at Natal twenty-four pennyweights nine grains, and at Padang, Bencoolen, and elsewhere, twenty-six pennyweights twelve grains. At Achin the bangkal of thirty pennyweights twenty-one grains, is the standard. Spanish dollars are everywhere current, and accounts are kept in dollars, sukus (imaginary quarter-dollars) and kepping or copper cash, of which four hundred go to the dollar. Beside these there are silver fanams, single, double, and treble (the latter called tali) coined at Madras, twenty-four fanams or eight talis being equal to the Spanish dollar, which is always valued in the English settlements at five shillings sterling. Silver rupees have occasionally been struck in Bengal for the use of the settlements on the coast of Sumatra, but not in sufficient quantities to become a general currency; and in the year 1786 the Company contracted with the late Mr. Boulton of Soho for a copper coinage, the proportions of which I was desired to adjust, as well as to furnish the inscriptions; and the same system, with many improvements suggested by Mr. Charles Wilkins, has since been extended to the three Presidencies of India. At Achin small thin gold and silver coins were formerly struck and still are current; but I have not seen any of the pieces that bore the appearance of modern coinage; nor am I aware that this right of sovereignty is exercised by any other power in the island. TIN. Tin, called timar, is a very considerable article of trade, and many cargoes of it are yearly carried to China, where the consumption is chiefly for religious purposes. The mines are situated in the island of Bangka, lying near Palembang, and are said to have been accidentally discovered there in 1710, by the burning of a house. They are worked by a colony of Chinese (said in the Batavian Transactions to consist of twenty-five thousand persons) under the nominal direction of the king of Palembang, but for the account and benefit of the Dutch Company, which has endeavoured to monopolize the trade, and actually obtained two millions of pounds yearly; but the enterprising spirit of private merchants, chiefly English and American, finds means to elude the vigilance of its cruisers, and the commerce is largely participated by them. It is exported for the most part in small pieces or cakes called tampang, and sometimes in slabs. M. Sonnerat reports that this tin (named calin by the French writers), was analysed by M. Daubenton, who found it to be the same metal as that produced in England; but it sells something higher than our grain-tin. In different parts of Sumatra, there are indications of tin-earth, or rather sand, and it is worked at the mountain of Sungei-pagu, but not to any great extent. Of this sand, at Bangka, a pikul, or 133 pounds is said to yield about 75 pounds of the metal. COPPER. A rich mine of copper is worked at Mukki near Labuan-haji, by the Achinese. The ore produces half its original weight in pure metal, and is sold at the rate of twenty dollars the pikul. A lump which I deposited in the Museum of the East India Company is pronounced to be native copper. The Malays are fond of mixing this metal with gold in equal quantities, and using the composition, which they name swasa, in the manufacture of buttons, betel-boxes, and heads of krises. I have never heard silver spoken of as a production of this part of the East. IRON. Iron ore is dug at a place named Turawang, in the eastern part of Menangkabau, and there smelted, but not, I apprehend, in large quantities, the consumption of the natives being amply supplied with English and Swedish bar-iron, which they are in the practice of purchasing by measure instead of weight. SULPHUR. Sulphur (balerang), as has been mentioned, is abundantly procured from the numerous volcanoes, and especially from that very great one which is situated about a day's journey inland from Priaman. Yellow Arsenic (barangan) is also an article of traffic. SALTPETRE. In the country of Kattaun, near the head of Urei River, there are extensive caves (goha) from the soil of which saltpetre (mesiyu mantah) is extracted. M. Whalfeldt, who was employed as a surveyor, visited them in March 1773. Into one he advanced seven hundred and forty­three feet, when his lights were extinguished by the damp vapour. Into a second he penetrated six hundred feet, when, after getting through a confined passage about three feet wide and five in height, an opening in the rock led to a spacious place forty feet high. The same caves were visited by Mr. Christopher Terry and Mr. Charles Miller. They are the habitation of innumerable birds, which are perceived to abound the more the farther you proceed. Their nests are formed about the upper parts of the cave, and it is thought to be their dung simply that forms the soil (in many places from four to six feet deep, and from fifteen to twenty broad) which affords the nitre. A cubic foot of this earth, measuring seven gallons, produced on boiling seven pounds fourteen ounces of saltpetre, and a second experiment gave a ninth part more. This I afterwards saw refined to a high degree of purity; but I conceive that its value would not repay the expense of the process. BIRDS-NEST. The edible birds-nest, so much celebrated as a peculiar luxury of the table, especially amongst the Chinese, is found in similar caves in different parts of the island, but chiefly near the sea-coast, and in the greatest abundance at its southern extremity. Four miles up the river Kroi there is one of considerable size. The birds are called layang-layang, and resemble the common swallow, or perhaps rather the martin. I had an opportunity of giving to the British Museum some of these nests with the eggs in them. They are distinguished into white and black, of which the first are by far the more scarce and valuable, being found in the proportion of one only to twenty-five. The white sort sells in China at the rate of a thousand to fifteen hundred dollars the pikul (according to the Batavian Transactions for nearly its weight in silver), the black is usually disposed of at Batavia at about twenty or thirty dollars for the same weight, where I understand it is chiefly converted into a kind of glue. The difference between the two sorts has by some been supposed to be owing to the mixture of the feathers of the birds with the viscous substance of which the nests are formed; and this they deduce from the experiment of steeping the black nests for a short time in hot water, when they are said to become white to a certain degree. Among the natives I have heard a few assert that they are the work of a different species of bird. It was also suggested to me that the white might probably be the recent nests of the season in which they were taken, and the black such as had been used for several years successively. This opinion appearing plausible, I was particular in my inquiries as to that point, and learned what seems much to corroborate it. When the natives prepare to take the nests they enter the cave with torches, and, forming ladders of bamboos notched according to the usual mode, they ascend and pull down the nests, which adhere in numbers together, from the sides and top of the rock. I was informed that the more regularly the cave is thus stripped the greater proportion of white nests they are sure to find, and that on this experience they often make a practice of beating down and destroying the old nests in larger quantities than they trouble themselves to carry away, in order that they may find white nests the next season in their room. The birds, I am assured, are seen, during the building time, in large flocks upon the beach, collecting in their beaks the foam thrown up by the surf, of which there appears little doubt of their constructing their gelatinous nests, after it has undergone, perhaps, some preparation from commixture with their saliva or other secretion in the beak or the craw; and that this is the received opinion of the natives appears from the bird being very commonly named layang-buhi, the foam-swallow. Linnaeus however has conjectured, and with much plausibility, that it is the animal substance frequently found on the beach which fishermen call blubber or jellies, and not the foam of the sea, that these birds collect; and it is proper to mention that, in a Description of these Nests by M. Hooyman, printed in Volume 3 of the Batavian Transactions, he is decidedly of opinion that the substance of them has nothing to do with the sea-foam but is elaborated from the food of the bird. Mr. John Crisp informed me that he had seen at Padang a common swallow's nest, built under the eaves of a house, which was composed partly of common mud and partly of the substance that constitutes the edible nests. The young birds themselves are said to be very delicate food, and not inferior in richness of flavour to the beccafico. TRIPAN. The swala, tripan, or sea-slug (holothurion), is likewise an article of trade to Batavia and China, being employed, as birds-nest or vermicelli, for enriching soups and stews, by a luxurious people. It sells at the former place for forty-five dollars per pikul, according to the degree of whiteness and other qualities. WAX. Beeswax is a commodity of great importance in all the eastern islands, from whence it is exported in large oblong cakes to China, Bengal, and other parts of the continent. No pains are taken with the bees, which are left to settle where they list (generally on the boughs of trees) and are never collected in hives. Their honey is much inferior to that of Europe, as might be expected from the nature of the vegetation. GUM-LAC. Gum-lac, called by the natives ampalu or ambalu, although found upon trees and adhering strongly to the branches, is known to be the work of insects, as wax is of the bee. It is procured in small quantities from the country inland of Bencoolen; but at Padang is a considerable article of trade. Foreign markets however are supplied from the countries of Siam and Camboja. It is chiefly valued in Sumatra for the animal part, found in the nidus of the insect, which is soluble in water, and yields a very fine purple dye, used for colouring their silks and other webs of domestic manufacture. Like the cochineal it would probably, with the addition of a solution of tin, become a good scarlet. I find in a Bisayan dictionary that this substance is employed by the people of the Philippine Islands for staining their teeth red. For an account of the lac insect see in the Philosophical Transactions Volume 71 page 374 a paper by Mr. James Kerr. IVORY. The forests abounding with elephants, ivory (gading) is consequently found in abundance, and is carried both to the China and Europe markets. The animals themselves were formerly the objects of a considerable traffic from Achin to the coast of Coromandel, or kling country, and vessels were built expressly for their transport; but it has declined, or perhaps ceased altogether, from the change which the system of warfare has undergone, since the European tactics have been imitated by the princes of India. FISH-ROES. The large roes of a species of fish (said to be like the shad, but more probably of the mullet-kind) taken in great quantities at the mouth of Siak River, are salted and exported from thence to all the Malayan countries, where they are eaten with boiled rice, and esteemed a delicacy. This is the botarga of the Italians, and here called trobo and telur-trobo. IMPORT-TRADE. The most general articles of import-trade are the following: From the coast of Coromandel various cotton goods, as long-cloth, blue and white, chintz, and coloured handkerchiefs, of which those manufactured at Pulicat are the most prized; and salt. From Bengal muslins, striped and plain, and several other kinds of cotton goods, as cossaes, baftaes, hummums, etc., taffetas and some other silks; and opium in considerable quantities. From the Malabar coast various cotton goods, mostly of a coarse raw fabric. From China coarse porcelain, kwalis or iron pans, in sets of various sizes, tobacco shred very fine, gold thread, fans, and a number of small articles. From Celebes (known here by the names of its chief provinces, Mangkasar, Bugis, and Mandar), Java, Balli, Ceram, and other eastern islands, the rough, striped cotton cloth called kain-sarong, or vulgarly bugis-clouting, being the universal body-dress of the natives; krises and other weapons, silken kris-belts, tudongs or hats, small pieces of ordnance, commonly of brass, called rantaka, spices, and also salt of a large grain, and sometimes rice, chiefly from Balli. From Europe silver, iron, steel, lead, cutlery, various sorts of hardware, brass wire, and broadcloths, especially scarlet. It is not within my plan to enlarge on this subject by entering into a detail of the markets for, or prices of, the several articles, which are extremely fluctuating, according to the more or less abundant or scanty supply. Most of the kinds of goods above enumerated are incidentally mentioned in other parts of the work, as they happen to be connected with the account of the natives who purchase them. CHAPTER 9. ARTS AND MANUFACTURES. ART OF MEDICINE. SCIENCES. ARITHMETIC. GEOGRAPHY. ASTRONOMY. MUSIC, ETC. ARTS AND MANUFACTURES. I shall now take a view of those arts and manufactures which the Sumatrans are skilled in, and which are not merely domestic but contribute rather to the conveniences, and in some instances to the luxuries, than to the necessaries of life. I must remind the reader that my observations on this subject are mostly drawn from the Rejangs, or those people of the island who are upon their level of improvement. We meet with accounts in old writers of great foundries of cannon in the dominion of Achin, and it is certain that firearms as well as krises are at this day manufactured in the country of Menangkabau; but my present description does not go to these superior exertions of art, which certainly do not appear among those people of the island whose manners, more immediately, I am attempting to delineate. FILIGREE. What follows, however, would seem an exception to this limitation; there being no manufacture in that part of the world, and perhaps I might be justified in saying, in any part of the world, that has been more admired and celebrated than the fine gold and silver filigree of Sumatra. This indeed is, strictly speaking, the work of the Malayan inhabitants; but as it is in universal use and wear throughout the country, and as the goldsmiths are settled everywhere along the coast, I cannot be guilty of much irregularity in describing here the process of their art. MODE OF WORKING IT. There is no circumstance that renders the filigree a matter of greater curiosity than the coarseness of the tools employed in the workmanship, and which, in the hands of a European, would not be thought sufficiently perfect for the most ordinary purposes. They are rudely and inartificially formed by the goldsmith (pandei) from any old iron he can procure. When you engage one of them to execute a piece of work his first request is usually for a piece of iron hoop to make his wire-drawing instrument; an old hammer head, stuck in a block, serves for an anvil; and I have seen a pair of compasses composed of two old nails tied together at one end. The gold is melted in a piece of a priuk or earthen rice-pot, or sometimes in a crucible of their own making, of common clay. In general they use no bellows but blow the fire with their mouths through a joint of bamboo, and if the quantity of metal to be melted is considerable three or four persons sit round their furnace, which is an old broken kwali or iron pot, and blow together. At Padang alone, where the manufacture is more considerable, they have adopted the Chinese bellows. Their method of drawing the wire differs but little from that used by European workmen. When drawn to a sufficient fineness they flatten it by beating it on their anvil; and when flattened they give it a twist like that in the whalebone handle of a punch-ladle, by rubbing it on a block of wood with a flat stick. After twisting they again beat it on the anvil, and by these means it becomes flat wire with indented edges. With a pair of nippers they fold down the end of the wire, and thus form a leaf or element of a flower in their work, which is cut off. The end is again folded and cut off till they have got a sufficient number of leaves, which are all laid on singly. Patterns of the flowers or foliage, in which there is not very much variety, are prepared on paper, of the size of the gold plate on which the filigree is to be laid. According to this they begin to dispose on the plate the larger compartments of the foliage, for which they use plain flat wire of a larger size, and fill them up with the leaves before mentioned. To fix their work they employ a glutinous substance made of the small red pea with a black spot before mentioned, ground to a pulp on a rough stone. This pulp they place on a young coconut about the size of a walnut, the top and bottom being cut off. I at first imagined that caprice alone might have directed them to the use of the coconut for this purpose; but I have since reflected on the probability of the juice of the young fruit being necessary to keep the pulp moist, which would otherwise speedily become dry and unfit for the work. After the leaves have been all placed in order and stuck on, bit by bit, a solder is prepared of gold filings and borax, moistened with water, which they strew or daub over the plate with a feather, and then putting it in the fire for a short time the whole becomes united. This kind of work on a gold plate they call karrang papan: when the work is open, they call it karrang trus. In executing the latter the foliage is laid out on a card, or soft kind of wood covered with paper, and stuck on, as before described, with the paste of the red seed; and the work, when finished, being strewed over with their solder, is put into the fire, when, the card or soft wood burning away, the gold remains connected. The greatest skill and attention is required in this operation as the work is often made to run by remaining too long or in too hot a fire. If the piece be large they solder it at several times. When the work is finished they give it that fine high colour they so much admire by an operation which they term sapoh. This consists in mixing nitre, common salt, and alum, reduced to powder and moistened, laying the composition on the filigree and keeping it over a moderate fire until it dissolves and becomes yellow. In this situation the piece is kept for a longer or shorter time according to the intensity of colour they wish the gold to receive. It is then thrown into water and cleansed. In the manufacture of baju buttons they first make the lower part flat, and, having a mould formed of a piece of buffalo's horn, indented to several sizes, each like one half of a bullet mould, they lay their work over one of these holes, and with a horn punch they press it into the form of the button. After this they complete the upper part. The manner of making the little balls with which their works are sometimes ornamented is as follows. They take a piece of charcoal, and, having cut it flat and smooth, they make in it a small hole, which they fill with gold dust, and this melted in the fire becomes a little ball. They are very inexpert at finishing and polishing the plain parts, hinges, screws, and the like, being in this as much excelled by the European artists as these fall short of them in the fineness and minuteness of the foliage. The Chinese also make filigree, mostly of silver, which looks elegant, but wants likewise the extraordinary delicacy of the Malayan work. The price of the workmanship depends upon the difficulty or novelty of the pattern. In some articles of usual demand it does not exceed one-third of the value of the gold; but, in matters of fancy, it is generally equal to it. The manufacture is not now (1780) held in very high estimation in England, where costliness is not so much the object of luxury as variety; but, in the revolution of taste, it may probably be again sought after and admired as fashionable. IRON MANUFACTURES. But little skill is shown amongst the country people in forging iron. They make nails however, though not much used by them in building, wooden pins being generally substituted; also various kinds of tools, as the prang or bill, the banchi, rembe, billiong, and papatil, which are different species of adzes, the kapak or axe, and the pungkur or hoe. Their fire is made with charcoal; the fossil coal which the country produces being rarely, if ever, employed, except by the Europeans; and not by them of late years, on the complaint of its burning away too quickly: yet the report made of it in 1719 was that it gave a surer heat than the coal from England. The bed of it (described rather as a large rock above ground) lies four days' journey up Bencoolen River, from whence quantities are washed down by the floods. The quality of coal is rarely good near the surface. Their bellows are thus constructed: two bamboos, of about four inches diameter and five feet in length, stand perpendicularly near the fire, open at the upper end and stopped below. About an inch or two from the bottom a small joint of bamboo is inserted into each, which serve as nozzles, pointing to, and meeting at, the fire. To produce a stream of air bunches of feathers or other soft substance, being fastened to long handles, are worked up and down in the upright tubes, like the piston of a pump. These, when pushed downwards, force the air through the small horizontal tubes, and, by raising and sinking each alternately, a continual current or blast is kept up; for which purpose a boy is usually placed on a high seat or stand. I cannot retrain from remarking that the description of the bellows used in Madagascar, as given by Sonnerat, Volume 2 page 60, so entirely corresponds with this that the one might almost pass for a copy of the other. CARPENTER'S WORK. The progress they have made in carpenter's work has been already pointed out, where there buildings were described. TOOLS. They are ignorant of the use of the saw, excepting where we have introduced it among them. Trees are felled by chopping at the stems, and in procuring boards they are confined to those the direction of whose grain or other qualities admit of their being easily split asunder. In this respect the species called maranti and marakuli have the preference. The tree, being stripped of its branches and its bark, is cut to the length required, and by the help of wedges split into boards. These being of irregular thickness are usually dubbed upon the spot. The tool used for this purpose is the rembe, a kind of adze. Most of their smaller work, and particularly on the bamboo, is performed with the papatil, which resembles in shape as much as in name the patupatu of the New Zealanders, but has the vast superiority of being made of iron. The blade, which is fastened to the handle with a nice and curious kind of rattan-work, is so contrived as to turn in it, and by that means can be employed either as an adze or small hatchet. Their houses are generally built with the assistance of this simple instrument alone. The billiong is no other than a large papatil, with a handle of two or three feet in length, turning, like that, in its socket. CEMENTS. The chief cement they employ for small work is the curd of buffalo­milk, called prakat. It is to be observed that butter is made (for the use of Europeans only; the words used by the Malays, for butter and cheese, monteiga and queijo, being pure Portuguese) not as with us, by churning, but by letting the milk stand till the butter forms of itself on the top. It is then taken off with a spoon, stirred about with the same in a flat vessel, and well washed in two or three waters. The thick sour milk left at the bottom, when the butter or cream is removed, is the curd here meant. This must be well squeezed, formed into cakes, and left to dry, when it will grow nearly as hard as flint. For use you must scrape some of it off, mix it with quick lime, and moisten it with milk. I think there is no stronger cement in the world, and it is found to hold, particularly in a hot and damp climate, much better than glue; proving also effectual in mending chinaware. The viscous juice of the saga-pea (abrus) is likewise used in the country as a cement. INK. Ink is made by mixing lamp-black with the white of egg. To procure the former they suspend over a burning lamp an earthen pot, the bottom of which is moistened, in order to make the soot adhere to it. DESIGNING. Painting and drawing they are quite strangers to. In carving, both in wood and ivory, they are curious and fanciful, but their designs are always grotesque and out of nature. The handles of the krises are the most common subjects of their ingenuity in this art, which usually exhibit the head and beak of a bird, with the folded arms of a human creature, not unlike the representation of one of the Egyptian deities. In cane and basketwork they are particularly neat and expert; as well as in mats, of which some kinds are much prized for their extreme fineness and ornamental borders. LOOMS. Silk and cotton cloths, of varied colours, manufactured by themselves, are worn by the natives in all parts of the country; especially by the women. Some of their work is very fine, and the patterns prettily fancied. Their loom or apparatus for weaving (tunun) is extremely defective, and renders their progress tedious. One end of the warp being made fast to a frame, the whole is kept tight, and the web stretched out by means of a species of yoke, which is fastened behind the body, when the person weaving sits down. Every second of the longitudinal threads, or warp, passes separately through a set of reeds, like the teeth of a comb, and the alternate ones through another set. These cross each other, up and down, to admit the woof, not from the extremities, as in our looms, nor effected by the feet, but by turning edgeways two flat sticks which pass between them. The shuttle (turak) is a hollow reed about sixteen inches long, generally ornamented on the outside, and closed at one end, having in it a small bit of stick, on which is rolled the woof or shoot. The silk cloths have usually a gold head. They use sometimes another kind of loom, still more simple than this, being no more than a frame in which the warp is fixed, and the woof darned with a long small-pointed shuttle. For spinning the cotton they make use of a machine very like ours. The women are expert at embroidery, the gold and silver thread for which is procured from China, as well as their needles. For common work their thread is the pulas before mentioned, or else filaments of the pisang (musa). EARTHENWARE. Different kinds of earthenware, I have elsewhere observed, are manufactured in the island. PERFUMES. They have a practice of perfuming their hair with oil of benzoin, which they distil themselves from the gum by a process doubtless of their own invention. In procuring it a priuk, or earthen rice-pot, covered close, is used for a retort. A small bamboo is inserted in the side of the vessel, and well luted with clay and ashes, from which the oil drops as it comes over. Along with the benzoin they put into the retort a mixture of sugar-cane and other articles that contribute little or nothing to the quantity or quality of the distillation; but no liquid is added. This oil is valued among them at a high price, and can only be used by the superior rank of people. OIL. The oil in general use is that of the coconut, which is procured in the following manner. The fleshy part being scraped out of the nut, which for this use must be old, is exposed for some time to the heat of the sun. It is then put into a mat bag and placed in the press (kampahan) between two sloping timbers, which are fixed together in a socket in the lower part of the frame, and forced towards each other by wedges in a groove at top, compressing by this means the pulp of the nut, which yields an oil that falls into a trough made for its reception below. In the farther parts of the country this oil also, owing to the scarcity of coconuts, is dear; and not so much used for burning as that from other vegetables, and the dammar or rosin, which is always at hand. TORCHES. When travelling at night they make use of torches or links, called suluh, the common sort of which are nothing more than dried bamboos of a convenient length, beaten at the joints till split in every part, without the addition of any resinous or other inflammable substance. A superior kind is made by filling with dammar a young bamboo, about a cubit long, well dried, and having the outer skin taken off. These torches are carried with a view, chiefly, to frighten away the tigers, which are alarmed at the appearance of fire; and for the same reason it is common to make a blaze with wood in different parts round their villages. The tigers prove to the inhabitants, both in their journeys and even their domestic occupations, most fatal and destructive enemies. The number of people annually slain by these rapacious tyrants of the woods is almost incredible. I have known instances of whole villages being depopulated by them. Yet, from a superstitious prejudice, it is with difficulty they are prevailed upon, by a large reward which the India Company offers, to use methods of destroying them till they have sustained some particular injury in their own family or kindred, and their ideas of fatalism contribute to render them insensible to the risk. TIGER-TRAPS. Their traps, of which they can make variety, are very ingeniously contrived. Sometimes they are in the nature of strong cages, with falling doors, into which the beast is enticed by a goat or dog enclosed as a bait; sometimes they manage that a large timber shall fall, in a groove, across his back; he is noosed about the loins with strong rattans, or he is led to ascend a plank, nearly balanced, which, turning when he is past the centre, lets him fall upon sharp stakes prepared below. Instances have occurred of a tiger being caught by one of the former modes, which had many marks in his body of the partial success of this last expedient. The escapes, at times, made from them by the natives are surprising, but these accounts in general carry too romantic an air to admit of being repeated as facts. The size and strength of the species which prevails on this island are prodigious. They are said to break with a stroke of their forepaw the leg of a horse or a buffalo; and the largest prey they kill is without difficulty dragged by them into the woods. This they usually perform on the second night, being supposed, on the first, to gratify themselves with sucking the blood only. Time is by this delay afforded to prepare for their destruction; and to the methods already enumerated, beside shooting them, I should add that of placing a vessel of water, strongly impregnated with arsenic, near the carcase, which is fastened to a tree to prevent its being carried off: The tiger having satiated himself with the flesh, is prompted to assuage his thirst with the tempting liquor at hand, and perishes in the indulgence. Their chief subsistence is most probably the unfortunate monkeys with which the woods abound. They are described as alluring them to their fate, by a fascinating power, similar to what has been supposed of the snake, and I am not incredulous enough to treat the idea with contempt, having myself observed that when an alligator, in a river, comes under an overhanging bough of a tree, the monkeys, in a state of alarm and distraction, crowd to the extremity, and, chattering and trembling, approach nearer and nearer to the amphibious monster that waits to devour them as they drop, which their fright and number renders almost unavoidable. These alligators likewise occasion the loss of many inhabitants, frequently destroying the people as they bathe in the river, according to their regular custom, and which the perpetual evidence of the risk attending it cannot deter them from. A superstitious idea of their sanctity also (or, perhaps, of consanguinity, as related in the journal of the Endeavour's voyage) preserves these destructive animals from molestation, although, with a hook of sufficient strength, they may be taken without much difficulty. A musket-ball appears to have no effect upon their impenetrable hides. FISHING. Besides the common methods of taking fish, of which the seas that wash the coasts of Sumatra afford an extraordinary variety and abundance, the natives employ a mode, unpractised, I apprehend, in any part of Europe. They steep the root of a certain climbing plant, called tuba, of strong narcotic qualities, in the water where the fish are observed, which produces such an effect that they become intoxicated and to appearance dead, float on the surface of the water, and are taken with the hand. This is generally made use of in the basins of water formed by the ledges of coral rock which, having no outlet, are left full when the tide has ebbed.* In the manufacture and employment of the casting-net they are particularly expert, and scarcely a family near the sea-coast is without one. To supply this demand great quantities of the pulas twine are brought down from the hill-country to be there worked up; and in this article we have an opportunity of observing the effect of that conformation which renders the handiwork of orientals (unassisted by machinery) so much more delicate than that of the western people. Mr. Crisp possessed a net of silk, made in the country behind Padang, the meshes of which were no wider than a small fingernail, that opened sixteen feet in diameter. With such they are said to catch small fish in the extensive lake situated on the borders of Menangkabau. (*Footnote. In Captain Cook's second voyage is a plate representing a plant used for the same purpose at Otaheite, which is the exact delineation of one whose appearance I was well acquainted with in Sumatra, and which abounds in many parts of the sea-beach, but which is a different plant from the tuba-akar, but may be another kind, named tuba-biji. In South America also, we are informed, the inhabitants procure fish after this extraordinary manner, employing three different kinds of plants; but whether any of them be the same with that of Otaheite or Sumatra I am ignorant. I have lately been informed that this practice is not unknown in England, but has been prohibited. It is termed foxing: the drug made use of was the Coculus indicus.) BIRD-CATCHING. Birds, particularly the plover (cheruling) and quails (puyu) are caught by snares or springs laid for them in the grass. These are of iju, which resembles horsehair, many fathoms in length, and disposed in such a manner as to entangle their feet; for which purpose they are gently driven towards the snares. In some parts of the country they make use of clasp-nets. I never observed a Sumatran to fire a shot at a bird, though many of them, as well as the more eastern people, have a remarkably fine aim; but the mode of letting off the matchlocks, which are the pieces most habitual to them, precludes the possibility of shooting flying. GUNPOWDER. Gunpowder is manufactured in various parts of the island, but less in the southern provinces than amongst the people of Menangkabau, the Battas, and Achinese, whose frequent wars demand large supplies. It appears however, by an agreement upon record, formed in 1728, that the inhabitants of Anak-sungei were restricted from the manufacture, which they are stated to have carried to a considerable extent. It is made, as with us, of proportions of charcoal, sulphur, and nitre, but the composition is very imperfectly granulated, being often hastily prepared in small quantities for immediate use. The last article, though found in the greatest quantity in the saltpetre-caves before spoken of, is most commonly procured from goat's dung, which is always to be had in plenty. SUGAR. Sugar (as has already been observed) is commonly made for domestic use from the juice of a species of palm, boiled till a consistence is formed, but scarcely at all granulated, being little more than a thick syrup. This spread upon leaves to dry, made into cakes, and afterwards folded up in a peculiar vegetable substance called upih, which is the sheath that envelopes the branch of the pinang tree where it is inserted in the stem. In this state it is called jaggri, and, beside its ordinary uses as sugar, it is mixed with chunam in making cement for buildings, and that exquisite plaster for walls which, on the coast of Coromandel, equals Parian marble in whiteness and polish. But in many parts of the island sugar is also made from the sugar-cane. The rollers of the mill used for this purpose are worked by the endless screw instead of cogs, and are turned with the hand by means of a bar passing through one of the rollers which is higher than the other. As an article of traffic amongst the natives it is not considerable, nor have they the art of distilling arrack, the basis of which is molasses, along with the juice of the anau or of the coconut palm in a state of fermentation. Both however are manufactured by Europeans.* (*Footnote. Many attempts have been made by the English to bring to perfection the manufacture of sugar and arrack from the canes; but the expenses, particularly of the slaves, were always found to exceed the advantages. Within these few years (about 1777) that the plantations and works were committed to the management of Mr. Henry Botham, it has manifestly appeared that the end is to be obtained by employing the Chinese in the works of the field and allowing them a proportion of the produce for their labour. The manufacture had arrived at considerable perfection when the breaking out of war gave a check to its progress; but the path is pointed out, and it may be worth pursuing. The sums of money thrown into Batavia for arrack and sugar have been immense.) SALT. Salt is here, as in most other countries, an article of general consumption. The demand for it is mostly supplied by cargoes imported, but they also manufacture it themselves. The method is tedious. They kindle a fire close to the sea-beach, and gradually pour upon it sea water. When this has been continued for a certain time, the water evaporating, and the salt being precipitated among the ashes, they gather these in baskets, or in funnels made of the bark or leaves of trees, and again pour seawater on them till the particles of salt are well separated, and pass with the water into a vessel placed below to receive them. This water, now strongly impregnated, is boiled till the salt adheres in a thick crust to the bottom and sides of the vessel. In burning a square fathom of firewood a skilful person procures about five gallons of salt. What is thus made has so considerable a mixture of the salt of the wood that it soon dissolves, and cannot be carried far into the country. The coarsest grain is preferred. ART OF MEDICINE. The art of medicine among the Sumatrans consists almost entirely in the application of simples, in the virtues of which they are well skilled. Every old man and woman is a physician, and their rewards depend upon their success; but they generally procure a small sum in advance under the pretext of purchasing charms.* The mode of practice is either by administering the juices of certain trees and herbs inwardly, or by applying outwardly a poultice of leaves chopped small upon the breast or part affected, renewing it as soon as it becomes dry. For internal pains they rub oil on a large leaf of a stimulant quality, and, heating it before the fire, clap it on the body of the patient as a blister, which produces very powerful effects. Bleeding they never use, but the people of the neighbouring island of Nias are famous for their skill in cupping, which they practise in a manner peculiar to themselves. (*Footnote. Charms are there hung about the necks of children, as in Europe, and also worn by persons whose situations expose them to risk. They are long narrow scrolls of paper, filled with incoherent scraps of verse, which are separated from each other by a variety of fanciful drawings. A charm against an ague I once accidentally met with, which from circumstances I conclude to be a translation of such as are employed by the Portuguese Christians in India. Though not properly belonging to my subject, I present it to the reader. "(Sign of the cross). When Christ saw the cross he trembled and shaked; and they said unto him hast thou an ague? and he said unto them, I have neither ague nor fever; and whosoever bears these words, either in writing or in mind, shall never be troubled with ague or fever. So help thy servants, O Lord, who put their trust in thee!" From the many folds that appear in the original I have reason to apprehend that it had been worn, and by some Englishmen, whom frequent sickness and the fond love of life had rendered weak and superstitious enough to try the effects of this barbarous and ridiculous quackery.) FEVERS. In fevers they give a decoction of the herb lakun, and bathe the patient, for two or three mornings, in warm water. If this does not prove effectual, they pour over him, during the paroxysm, a quantity of cold water, rendered more chilly by the daun sedingin (Cotyledon laciniata) which, from the sudden revulsion it causes, brings on a copious perspiration. Pains and swellings in the limbs are likewise cured by sweating; but for this purpose they either cover themselves over with mats and sit in the sunshine at noon, or, if the operation be performed within doors, a lamp, and sometimes a pot of boiling herbs, is enclosed in the covering with them. LEPROSY. There are two species of leprosy known in these parts. The milder sort, or impetigo, as I apprehend it to be, is very common among the inhabitants of Nias, great numbers of whom are covered with a white scurf or scales that renders them loathsome to the sight. But this distemper, though disagreeable from the violent itching and other inconveniences with which it is attended, does not appear immediately to affect the health, slaves in that situation being bought and sold for field and other outdoor work. It is communicated from parents to their offspring, but though hereditary it is not contagious. I have sometimes been induced to think it nothing more than a confirmed stage of the serpigo or ringworm, or it may be the same with what is elsewhere termed the shingles. I have known a Nias man who has effected a temporary removal of this scurf by the frequent application of the golinggang or daun kurap (Cassia alata) and such other herbs as are used to cure the ringworm, and sometimes by rubbing gunpowder and strong acids to his skin; but it always returned after some time. The other species with which the country people are in some instances affected is doubtless, from the description given of its dreadful symptoms, that severe kind of leprosy which has been termed elephantiasis, and is particularly described in the Asiatic Researches Volume 2, the skin coming off in flakes, and the flesh falling from the bones, as in the lues venerea. This disorder being esteemed highly infectious, the unhappy wretch who labours under it is driven from the village he belonged to into the woods, where victuals are left for him from time to time by his relations. A prang and a knife are likewise delivered to him, that he may build himself a hut, which is generally erected near to some river or lake, continual bathing being supposed to have some effect in removing the disorder, or alleviating the misery of the patient. Few instances of recovery have been known. There is a disease called the nambi which bears some affinity to this, attacking the feet chiefly, the flesh of which it eats away. As none but the lowest class of people seem to suffer from this complaint I imagine it proceeds in a great degree from want of cleanliness. SMALLPOX. The smallpox (katumbuhan) sometimes visits the island and makes terrible ravages. It is regarded as a plague, and drives from the country thousands whom the infection spares. Their method of stopping its progress (for they do not attempt a cure) is by converting into a hospital or receptacle for the rest that village where lie the greatest number of sick, whither they send all who are attacked by the disorder from the country round. The most effectual methods are pursued to prevent any person's escape from this village, which is burnt to the ground as soon as the infection has spent itself or devoured all the victims thus offered to it. Inoculation was an idea long unthought of, and, as it could not be universal, it was held to be a dangerous experiment for Europeans to introduce it partially, in a country where the disorder makes its appearance at distant intervals only, unless those periods could be seized and the attempts made when and where there might be well-founded apprehension of its being communicated in the natural way. Such an opportunity presented itself in 1780, when great numbers of people (estimated at a third of the population) were swept away in the course of that and the two following years; whilst upon those under the immediate influence of the English and Dutch settlements inoculation was practised with great success. I trust that the preventive blessing of vaccination has or will be extended to a country so liable to be afflicted with this dreadful scourge. A distemper called chachar, much resembling the smallpox, and in its first stages mistaken for it, is not uncommon. It causes an alarm but does not prove mortal, and is probably what we term the chickenpox. VENEREAL DISEASE. The venereal disease, though common in the Malay bazaars, is in the inland country almost unknown. A man returning to his village with the infection is shunned by the inhabitants as an unclean and interdicted person. The Malays are supposed to cure it with the decoction of a china-root, called by them gadong, which causes a salivation. INSANITY. When a man is by sickness or otherwise deprived of his reason, or when subject to convulsion fits, they imagine him possessed by an evil spirit, and their ceremony of exorcism is performed by putting the unfortunate wretch into a hut, which they set fire to about his ears, suffering him to make his escape through the flames in the best manner he can. The fright, which would go nigh to destroy the intellects of a reasonable man, may perhaps have under contrary circumstances an opposite effect. SCIENCES. The skill of the Sumatrans in any of the sciences, is, as may be presumed, very limited. ARITHMETIC. Some however I have met with who, in arithmetic, could multiply and divide, by a single multiplier or divisor, several places of figures. Tens of thousands (laksa) are the highest class of numbers the Malay language has a name for. In counting over a quantity of small articles each tenth, and afterwards each hundredth piece is put aside; which method is consonant with the progress of scientific numeration, and probably gave it origin. When they may have occasion to recollect at a distance of time the tale of any commodities they are carrying to market, or the like, the country people often assist their memory by tying knots on a string, which is produced when they want to specify the number. The Peruvian quipos were I suppose an improvement upon this simple invention. MEASURES. They estimate the quantity of most species of merchandise by what we call dry measure, the use of weights, as applied to bulky articles, being apparently introduced among them by foreigners; for the pikul and catti are used only on the sea-coast and places which the Malays frequent. The kulah or bamboo, containing very nearly a gallon, is the general standard of measure among the Rejangs: of these eight hundred make a koyan: the chupah is one quarter of a bamboo. By this measure almost all articles, even elephants' teeth, are bought and sold; but by a bamboo of ivory they mean so much as is equal in weight to a bamboo of rice. This still includes the idea of weight, but is not attended with their principal objection to that mode of ascertaining quantity which arises, as they say, from the impossibility of judging by the eye of the justness of artificial weights, owing to the various materials of which they may be composed, and to which measurement is not liable. The measures of length here, as perhaps originally among every people upon earth, are taken from the dimensions of the human body. The deppa, or fathom, is the extent of the arms from each extremity of the fingers: the etta, asta, or cubit, is the forearm and hand; kaki is the foot; jungka is the span; and jarri, which signifies a finger, is the inch. These are estimated from the general proportions of middle-sized men, others making an allowance in measuring, and not regulated by an exact standard. GEOGRAPHY. The ideas of geography among such of them as do not frequent the sea are perfectly confined, or rather they entertain none. Few of them know that the country they inhabit is an island, or have any general name for it. Habit renders them expert in travelling through the woods, where they perform journeys of weeks and months without seeing a dwelling. In places little frequented, where they have occasion to strike out new paths (for roads there are none), they make marks on trees for the future guidance of themselves and others. I have heard a man say, "I will attempt a passage by such a route, for my father, when living, told me that he had left his tokens there." They estimate the distance of places from each other by the number of days, or the proportion of the day, taken up in travelling it, and not by measurement of the space. Their journey, or day's walk, may be computed at about twenty miles; but they can bear a long continuance of fatigue. ASTRONOMY. The Malays as well as the Arabs and other Mahometan nations fix the length of the year at three hundred and fifty-four days, or twelve lunar months of twenty-nine days and a half; by which mode of reckoning each year is thrown back about eleven days. The original Sumatrans rudely estimate their annual periods from the revolution of the seasons, and count their years from the number of their crops of grain (taun padi); a practice which, though not pretending to accuracy, is much more useful for the general purposes of life than the lunar period, which is merely adapted to religious observances. They as well as the Malays compute time by lunations, but do not attempt to trace any relation or correspondence between these smaller measures and the solar revolution. Whilst more polished nations were multiplying mistakes and difficulties in their endeavours to ascertain the completion of the sun's course through the ecliptic, and in the meanwhile suffering their nominal seasons to become almost the reverse of nature, these people, without an idea of intercalation, preserved in a rude way the account of their years free from essential, or at least progressive, error and the confusion which attends it. The division of the month into weeks I believe to be unknown except where it has been taught with Mahometanism; the day of the moon's age being used instead of it where accuracy is required; nor do they subdivide the day into hours. To denote the time of day at which any circumstance they find it necessary to speak of happened, they point with their finger to the height in the sky at which the sun then stood. And this mode is the more general and precise as the sun, so near the equator, ascends and descends almost perpendicularly, and rises and sets at all seasons of the year within a few minutes of six o'clock. Scarcely any of the stars or constellations are distinguished by them. They notice however the planet Venus, but do not imagine her to be the same at the different periods of her revolution when she precedes the rising, and follows the setting sun. They are aware of the night on which the new moon should make its appearance, and the Malays salute it with the discharge of guns. They also know when to expect the returns of the tides, which are at their height, on the south-western coast of the island, when that luminary is in the horizon, and ebb as it rises. When they observe a bright star near the moon (or rubbing against her, as they express it), they are apprehensive of a storm, as European sailors foretell a gale from the sharpness of her horns. These are both, in part, the consequence of an unusual clearness in the air, which, proceeding from an extraordinary alteration of the state of the atmosphere, may naturally be followed by a violent rushing of the circumjacent parts to restore the equilibrium, and thus prove the prognostic of high wind. During an eclipse they make a loud noise with sounding-instruments to prevent one luminary from devouring the other, as the Chinese, to frighten away the dragon, a superstition that has its source in the ancient systems of astronomy (particularly the Hindu) where the nodes of the moon are identified with the dragon's head and tail. They tell of a man in the moon who is continually employed in spinning cotton, but that every night a rat gnaws his thread and obliges him to begin his work afresh. This they apply as an emblem of endless and ineffectual labour, like the stone of Sisyphus, and the sieves of the Danaides. With history and chronology the country people are but little acquainted, the memory of past events being preserved by tradition only. MUSIC. They are fond of music and have many instruments in use among them, but few, upon inquiry, appear to be original, being mostly borrowed from the Chinese and other more eastern people; particularly the kalintang, gong, and sulin. The violin has found its way to them from the westward. The kalintang resembles the sticcado and the harmonica; the more common ones having the cross-pieces, which are struck with two little hammers, of split bamboo, and the more perfect of a certain composition of metal which is very sonorous. The gongs, a kind of bell, but differing much in shape and struck on the outside, are cast in sets regularly tuned to thirds, fourth, fifth, and octave, and often serve as a bass, or under part, to the kalintang. They are also sounded for the purpose of calling together the inhabitants of the village upon any particular occasion; but the more ancient and still common instrument for this use is a hollowed log of wood named katut. The sulin is the Malayan flute. The country flute is called serdum. It is made of bamboo, is very imperfect, having but few stops, and resembles much an instrument described as found among the people of Otaheite. A single hole underneath is covered with the thumb of the left hand, and the hole nearest the end at which it is blown, on the upper side, with a finger of the same hand. The other two holes are stopped with the right-hand fingers. In blowing they hold it inclined to the right side. They have various instruments of the drum kind, particularly those called tingkah, which are in pairs and beaten with the hands at each end. They are made of a certain kind of wood hollowed out, covered with dried goat-skins, and laced with split rattans. It is difficult to obtain a proper knowledge of their division of the scale, as they know nothing of it in theory. The interval we call an octave seems to be divided with them into six tones, without any intermediate semitones, which must confine their music to one key. It consists in general of but few notes, and the third is the interval that most frequently occurs. Those who perform on the violin use the same notes as in our division, and they tune the instrument by fifths to a great nicety. They are fond of playing the octave, but scarcely use any other chord. The Sumatran tunes very much resemble, to my ear, those of the native Irish, and have usually, like them, a flat third: the same has been observed of the music of Bengal, and probably it will be found that the minor key obtains a preference amongst all people at a certain stage of civilization. CHAPTER 10. LANGUAGES. MALAYAN. ARABIC CHARACTER USED. LANGUAGES OF THE INTERIOR PEOPLE. PECULIAR CHARACTERS. SPECIMENS OF LANGUAGES AND OF ALPHABETS. LANGUAGES. Before I proceed to an account of the laws, customs, and manners of the people of the island it is necessary that I should say something of the different languages spoken on it, the diversity of which has been the subject of much contemplation and conjecture. MALAYAN. The Malayan language, which has commonly been supposed original in the peninsula of Malayo, and from thence to have extended itself throughout the eastern islands, so as to become the lingua franca of that part of the globe, is spoken everywhere along the coasts of Sumatra, prevails without the mixture of any other in the inland country of Menangkabau and its immediate dependencies, and is understood in almost every part of the island. It has been much celebrated, and justly, for the smoothness and sweetness of its sound, which have gained it the appellation of the Italian of the East. This is owing to the prevalence of vowels and liquids in the words (with many nasals which may be thought an objection) and the infrequency of any harsh combination of mute consonants. These qualities render it well adapted to poetry, which the Malays are passionately addicted to. SONGS. They amuse all their leisure hours, including the greater portion of their lives, with the repetition of songs which are, for the most part, proverbs illustrated, or figures of speech applied to the occurrences of life. Some that they rehearse, in a kind of recitative, at their bimbangs or feasts, are historical love tales like our old English ballads, and are often extemporaneous productions. An example of the former species is as follows: Apa guna passang palita, Kallo tidah dangan sumbu'nia? Apa guna bermine matta, Kalla tidah dangan sunggu'nia? What signifies attempting to light a lamp, If the wick be wanting? What signifies playing with the eyes, If nothing in earnest be intended? It must be observed however that it often proves a very difficult matter to trace the connexion between the figurative and the literal sense of the stanza. The essentials in the composition of the pantun, for such these little pieces are called, the longer being called dendang, are the rhythmus and the figure, particularly the latter, which they consider as the life and spirit of the poetry. I had a proof of this in an attempt which I made to impose a pantun of my own composing on the natives as a work of their countrymen. The subject was a dialogue between a lover and a rich coy mistress: the expressions were proper to the occasion, and in some degree characteristic. It passed with several, but an old lady who was a more discerning critic than the others remarked that it was "katta katta saja"--mere conversation; meaning that it was destitute of the quaint and figurative expressions which adorn their own poetry. Their language in common speaking is proverbial and sententious. If a young woman prove with child before marriage they observe it is daulu buah, kadian bunga--the fruit before the flower. Hearing of a person's death they say, nen matti, matti; nen idup, bekraja: kallo sampi janji'nia, apa buli buat?--Those who are dead, are dead; those who survive must work: if his allotted time was expired, what resource is there? The latter phrase they always make use of to express their sense of inevitability, and has more force than any translation of it I can employ. ARABIC CHARACTER USED BY MALAYS. Their writing is in the Arabic character, with modifications to adapt that alphabet to their language, and, in consequence of the adoption of their religion from the same quarter, a great number of Arabic words are incorporated with the Malayan. The Portuguese too have furnished them with several terms, chiefly for such ideas as they have acquired since the period of European discoveries to the eastward. They write on paper, using ink of their own composition, with pens made of the twig of the anau tree. I could never discover that the Malays had any original written characters peculiar to themselves before they acquired those now in use; but it is possible that such might have been lost, a fate that may hereafter attend the Batta, Rejang, and others of Sumatra, on which the Arabic daily makes encroachments. Yet I have had frequent occasion to observe the former language written by inland people in the country character; which would indicate that the speech is likely to perish first. The Malayan books are very numerous, both in prose and verse. Many of them are commentaries on the koran, and others romances or heroic tales. The purest or most elegant Malayan is said, and with great appearance of reason, to be spoken at Malacca. It differs from the dialect used in Sumatra chiefly in this, that words, in the latter, made to terminate in "o," are in the former, sounded as ending in "a." Thus they pronounce lada (pepper) instead of lado. Those words which end with "k" in writing, are, in Sumatra, always softened in speaking, by omitting it; as tabbe bannia, many compliments, for tabbek banniak; but the Malaccans, and especially the more eastern people, who speak a very broad dialect, give them generally the full sound. The personal pronouns also differ materially in the respective countries. Attempts have been made to compose a grammar of this tongue upon the principles on which those of the European languages are formed. But the inutility of such productions is obvious. Where there is no inflexion of either nouns or verbs there can be no cases, declensions, moods, or conjugations. All this is performed by the addition of certain words expressive of a determinate meaning, which should not be considered as mere auxiliaries, or as particles subservient to other words. Thus, in the instance of rumah, a house; deri pada rumah signifies from a house; but it would be talking without use or meaning to say that deri pada is the sign of the ablative case of that noun, for then every preposition should equally require an appropriate case, and as well as of, to, and from, we should have a case for deatas rumah, on top of the house. So of verbs: kallo saya buli jalan, If I could walk: this may be termed the preter-imperfect tense of the subjunctive or potential mood of the verb jalan; whereas it is in fact a sentence of which jalan, buli, etc. are constituent words. It is improper, I say, to talk of the case of a noun which does not change its termination, or the mood of a verb which does not alter its form. A useful set of observations might be collected for speaking the language with correctness and propriety, but they must be independent of the technical rules of languages founded on different principles.* (*Footnote. I have ventured to make this attempt, and have also prepared a Dictionary of the language which it is my intention to print with as little delay as circUmstances will admit.) INTERIOR PEOPLE USE LANGUAGES DIFFERENT FROM THE MALAYAN. Beside the Malayan there are a variety of languages spoken in Sumatra which however have not only a manifest affinity among themselves, but also to that general language which is found to prevail in, and to be indigenous to all the islands of the eastern sea; from Madagascar to the remotest of Captain Cook's discoveries; comprehending a wider extent than the Roman or any other tongue has yet boasted. Indisputable examples of this connexion and similarity I have exhibited in a paper which the Society of Antiquaries have done me the honour to publish in their Archaeologia, Volume 6. In different places it has been more or less mixed and corrupted, but between the most dissimilar branches an evident sameness of many radical words is apparent, and in some, very distant from each other in point of situation, as for instance the Philippines and Madagascar, the deviation of the words is scarcely more than is observed in the dialects of neighbouring provinces of the same kingdom. To render this comparison of languages more extensive, and if possible to bring all those spoken throughout the world into one point of view, is an object of which I have never lost sight, but my hopes of completing such a work are by no means sanguine. PECULIAR WRITTEN CHARACTERS. The principal of these Sumatran languages are the Botta, the Rejang, and the Lampong, whose difference is marked not so much by the want of correspondence in the terms as by the circumstance of their being expressed in distinct and peculiar written characters. But whether this apparent difference be radical and essential, or only produced by accident and the lapse of time, may be thought to admit of doubt; and, in order that the reader may be enabled to form his own judgment, a plate containing the Alphabetical characters of each, with the mode of applying the orthographical marks to those of the Rejang language in particular, is annexed. It would indeed be extraordinary, and perhaps singular in the history of human improvement, that divisions of people in the same island, with equal claims to originality, in stages of civilization nearly equal, and speaking languages derived from the same source, should employ characters different from each other, as well as from the rest of the world. It will be found however that the alphabet used in the neighbouring island of Java (given by Corneille Le Brun), that used by the Tagala people of the Philippines (given by Thevenot), and by the Bugis people of Celebes (given by Captain Forrest), vary at least as much from these and from each other as the Rejang from the Batta. The Sanskrit scholar will at the same time perceive in several of them an analogy to the rhythmical arrangement, terminating with a nasal, which distinguishes the alphabet of that ancient language whose influence is known to have been extensive in this quarter. In the country of Achin, where the language differs considerably from the Malayan, the Arabic character has nevertheless been adopted, and on this account it has less claim to originality. ON BARK OF TREES AND BAMBOO. Their manuscripts of any bulk and importance are written with ink of their own making on the inner bark of a tree cut into slips of several feet in length and folded together in squares; each square or fold answering to a page or leaf. For more common occasions they write on the outer coat of a joint of bamboo, sometimes whole but generally split into pieces of two or three inches in breadth, with the point of the weapon worn at their side, which serves the purpose of a stylus; and these writings, or scratchings rather, are often performed with a considerable degree of neatness. Thus the Chinese also are said by their historians to have written on pieces of bamboo before they invented paper. Of both kinds of manuscript I have many specimens in my possession. The lines are formed from the left hand towards the right, contrary to the practice of the Malays and the Arabians. In Java, Siam, and other parts of the East, beside the common language of the country, there is established a court language spoken by persons of rank only; a distinction invented for the purpose of keeping the vulgar at a distance, and inspiring them with respect for what they do not understand. The Malays also have their bhasa dalam, or courtly style, which contains a number of expressions not familiarly used in common conversation or writing, but yet by no means constituting a separate language, any more than, in English, the elevated style of our poets and historians. Amongst the inhabitants of Sumatra in general disparity of condition is not attended with much ceremonious distance of behaviour between the persons. (TABLE OF SUMATRAN ALPHABETS.) (TABLE OF SPECIMENS OF LANGUAGES SPOKEN IN SUMATRA.) CHAPTER 11. COMPARATIVE STATE OF THE SUMATRANS IN CIVIL SOCIETY. DIFFERENCE OF CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER INHABITANTS. GOVERNMENT. TITLES AND POWER OF THE CHIEFS AMONG THE REJANGS. INFLUENCE OF THE EUROPEANS. GOVERNMENT IN PASSUMMAH. COMPARATIVE STATE OF SUMATRANS IN SOCIETY. Considered as a people occupying a certain rank in the scale or civil society, it is not easy to determine the proper situation of the inhabitants of this island. Though far distant from that point to which the polished states of Europe have aspired, they yet look down, with an interval almost as great, on the savage tribes of Africa and America. Perhaps if we distinguish mankind summarily into five classes; but of which each would admit of numberless subdivisions; we might assign a third place to the more civilized Sumatrans, and a fourth to the remainder. In the first class I should of course include some of the republics of ancient Greece, in the days of their splendour; the Romans, for some time before and after the Augustan age; France, England, and other refined nations of Europe, in the latter centuries; and perhaps China. The second might comprehend the great Asiatic empires at the period of their prosperity; Persia, the Mogul, the Turkish, with some European kingdoms. In the third class, along with the Sumatrans and a few other states of the eastern archipelago, I should rank the nations on the northern coast of Africa, and the more polished Arabs. The fourth class, with the less civilized Sumatrans, will take in the people of the new discovered islands in the South Sea; perhaps the celebrated Mexican and Peruvian empires; the Tartar hordes, and all those societies of people in various parts of the globe, who, possessing personal property, and acknowledging some species of established subordination, rise one step above the Caribs, the New Hollanders, the Laplanders, and the Hottentots, who exhibit a picture of mankind in its rudest and most humiliating aspect. FEW IMPROVEMENTS ADOPTED FROM EUROPEANS. As mankind are by nature so prone to imitation it may seem surprising that these people have not derived a greater share of improvement in manners an arts from their long connection with Europeans, particularly with the English, who have now been settled among them for a hundred years. Though strongly attached to their own habits they are nevertheless sensible of their inferiority, and readily admit the preference to which our attainments in science, and especially in mechanics, entitle us. I have heard a man exclaim, after contemplating the structure and uses of a house-clock, "Is it not fitting that such as we should be slaves to people who have the ingenuity to invent, and the skill to construct, so wonderful a machine as this?" "The sun," he added, "is a machine of this nature." "But who winds it up?" said his companion. "Who but Allah," he replied. This admiration of our superior attainments is however not universal; for, upon an occasion similar to the above, a Sumatran observed, with a sneer, "How clever these people are in the art of getting money." Some probable causes of this backwardness may be suggested. We carry on few or no species of manufacture at our settlements; everything is imported ready wrought to its highest perfection; and the natives therefore have no opportunity of examining the first process, or the progress of the work. Abundantly supplied with every article of convenience from Europe, and prejudiced in their favour because from thence, we make but little use of the raw materials Sumatra affords. We do not spin its cotton; we do not rear its silkworms; we do not smelt its metals; we do not even hew its stone: neglecting these, it is in vain we exhibit to the people, for their improvement in the arts, our rich brocades, our timepieces, or display to them in drawings the elegance of our architecture. Our manners likewise are little calculated to excite their approval and imitation. Not to insist on the licentiousness that has at times been imputed to our communities; the pleasures of the table; emulation in wine; boisterous mirth; juvenile frolics, and puerile amusements, which do not pass without serious, perhaps contemptuous, animadversion--setting these aside it appears to me that even our best models are but ill adapted for the imitation of a rude, incurious, and unambitious people. Their senses, not their reason, should be acted on, to rouse them from their lethargy; their imaginations must be warmed; a spirit of enthusiasm must pervade and animate them before they will exchange the pleasures of indolence for those of industry. The philosophical influence that prevails and characterizes the present age in the western world is unfavourable to the producing these effects. A modern man of sense and manners despises, or endeavours to despise, ceremony, parade, attendance, superfluous and splendid ornaments in his dress or furniture: preferring ease and convenience to cumbrous pomp, the person first in rank is no longer distinguished by his apparel, his equipage, or his number of servants, from those inferior to him; and though possessing real power is divested of almost every external mark of it. Even our religious worship partakes of the same simplicity. It is far from my intention to condemn or depreciate these manners, considered in a general scale of estimation. Probably, in proportion as the prejudices of sense are dissipated by the light of reason, we advance towards the highest degree of perfection our natures are capable of; possibly perfection may consist in a certain medium which we have already stepped beyond; but certainly all this refinement is utterly incomprehensible to an uncivilized mind which cannot discriminate the ideas of humility and meanness. We appear to the Sumatrans to have degenerated from the more splendid virtues of our predecessors. Even the richness of their laced suits and the gravity of their perukes attracted a degree of admiration; and I have heard the disuse of the large hoops worn by the ladies pathetically lamented. The quick, and to them inexplicable, revolutions of our fashions, are subject of much astonishment, and they naturally conclude that those modes can have but little intrinsic merit which we are so ready to change; or at least that our caprice renders us very incompetent to be the guides of their improvement. Indeed in matters of this kind it is not to be supposed that an imitation should take place, owing to the total incongruity of manners in other respects, and the dissimilarity of natural and local circumstances. But perhaps I am superfluously investigating minute and partial causes of an effect which one general one may be thought sufficient to produce. Under the frigid, and more especially the torrid zone, the inhabitants will naturally preserve an uninterrupted similarity and consistency of manners, from the uniform influence of their climate. In the temperate zones, where this influence is equivocal, the manners will be fluctuating, and dependent rather on moral than physical causes. DIFFERENCE IN CHARACTER BETWEEN THE MALAYS AND OTHER SUMATRANS. The Malays and the other native Sumatrans differ more in the features of their mind than in those of their person. Although we know not that this island, in the revolutions of human grandeur, ever made a distinguished figure in the history of the world (for the Achinese, though powerful in the sixteenth century, were very low in point of civilization) yet the Malay inhabitants have an appearance of degeneracy, and this renders their character totally different from that which we conceive of a savage, however justly their ferocious spirit of plunder on the eastern coast may have drawn upon them that name. They seem rather to be sinking into obscurity, though with opportunities of improvement, than emerging from thence to a state of civil or political importance. They retain a strong share of pride, but not of that laudable kind which restrains men from the commission of mean and fraudulent actions. They possess much low cunning and plausible duplicity, and know how to dissemble the strongest passions and most inveterate antipathy beneath the utmost composure of features till the opportunity of gratifying their resentment offers. Veracity, gratitude, and integrity are not to be found in the list of their virtues, and their minds are almost strangers to the sentiments of honour and infamy. They are jealous and vindictive. Their courage is desultory, the effect of a momentary enthusiasm which enables them to perform deeds of incredible desperation; but they are strangers to that steady magnanimity, that cool heroic resolution in battle, which constitutes in our idea the perfection of this quality, and renders it a virtue.* Yet it must be observed that, from an apathy almost paradoxical, they suffer under sentence of death, in cases where no indignant passions could operate to buoy up the mind to a contempt of punishment, with astonishing composure and indifference; uttering little more on these occasions than a proverbial saying, common among them, expressive of the inevitability of fate--apa buli buat? To this stoicism, their belief in predestination, and very imperfect ideas of a future, eternal existence, doubtless contribute. (*Footnote. In the history of the Portuguese wars in this part of the East there appear some exceptions to this remark, and particularly in the character of Laksamanna (his title of commander-in-chief being mistaken for his proper name), who was truly a great man and most consummate warrior.) Some writer has remarked that a resemblance is usually found between the disposition and qualities of the beasts proper to any country and those of the indigenous inhabitants of the human species, where an intercourse with foreigners has not destroyed the genuineness of their character. The Malay may thus be compared to the buffalo and the tiger. In his domestic state he is indolent, stubborn, and voluptuous as the former, and in his adventurous life he is insidious, bloodthirsty, and rapacious as the latter. Thus also the Arab is said to resemble his camel, and the placid Hindu his cow. CHARACTER OF NATIVE SUMATRANS. The Sumatran of the interior country, though he partakes in some degree of the Malayan vices, and this partly from the contagion of example, possesses many exclusive virtues; but they are more properly of the negative than the positive kind. He is mild, peaceable, and forbearing, unless his anger be roused by violent provocation, when he is implacable in his resentments. He is temperate and sober, being equally abstemious in meat and drink. The diet of the natives is mostly vegetable; water is their only beverage; and though they will kill a fowl or a goat for a stranger, whom perhaps they never saw before, nor ever expect to see again, they are rarely guilty of that extravagance for themselves; nor even at their festivals (bimbang), where there is a plenty of meat, do they eat much of anything but rice. Their hospitality is extreme, and bounded by their ability alone. Their manners are simple; they are generally, except among the chiefs, devoid of the Malay cunning and chicane; yet endued with a quickness of apprehension, and on many occasions discovering a considerable degree of penetration and sagacity. In respect to women they are remarkably continent, without any share of insensibility. They are modest; particularly guarded in their expressions; courteous in their behaviour; grave in their deportment, being seldom or never excited to laughter; and patient to a great degree. On the other hand, they are litigious; indolent; addicted to gaming; dishonest in their dealings with strangers, which they esteem no moral defect; suspicious; regardless of truth; mean in their transactions; servile; though cleanly in their persons, dirty in their apparel, which they never wash. They are careless and improvident of the future, because their wants are few, for though poor they are not necessitous; nature supplying, with extraordinary facility, whatever she has made requisite for their existence. Science and the arts have not, by extending their views, contributed to enlarge the circle of their desires; and the various refinements of luxury, which in polished societies become necessaries of life, are totally unknown to them. The Makassar and Bugis people, who come annually in their praws from Celebes to trade at Sumatra, are looked up to by the inhabitants as their superiors in manners. The Malays affect to copy their style of dress, and frequent allusions to the feats and achievements of these people are made in their songs. Their reputation for courage, which certainly surpasses that of all other people in the eastern seas, acquires them this flattering distinction. They also derive part of the respect paid them from the richness of the cargoes they import, and the spirit with which they spend the produce in gaming, cock-fighting, and opium-smoking. GOVERNMENT. Having endeavoured to trace the character of these people with as much fidelity and accuracy as possible, I shall now proceed to give an account of their government, laws, customs, and manners; and, in order to convey to the reader the clearest ideas in my power, I shall develop the various circumstances in such order and connection as shall appear best to answer this intent, without confining myself, in every instance, to a rigid and scrupulous arrangement under distinct heads. REJANGS DIVIDED INTO TRIBES. The Rejang people, whom, for reasons before assigned, I have fixed upon for a standard of description, but which apply generally to the orang ulu, or inhabitants of the inland country, are distinguished into tribes, the descendants of different ancestors. Of these there are four principal, who are said to trace their origin to four brothers, and to have been united from time immemorial in a league offensive and defensive; though it may be presumed that the permanency of this bond of union is to be attributed rather to considerations of expediency resulting from their situation than to consanguinity or any formal compact. THEIR GOVERNMENT. The inhabitants live in villages, called dusun, each under the government of a headman or magistrate, styled dupati, whose dependants are termed his ana-buah, and in number seldom exceed one hundred. The dupatis belonging to each river (for here, the villages being almost always situated by the waterside, the names we are used to apply to countries or districts are properly those of the rivers) meet in a judicial capacity at the kwalo, where the European factory is established, and are then distinguished by the name of proattin. PANGERAN. The pangeran (a Javanese title), or feudal chief of the country, presides over the whole. It is not an easy matter to describe in what consists the fealty of a dupati to his pangeran, or of his ana-buah to himself, so very little in either case is practically observed. Almost without arts, and with but little industry, the state of property is nearly equal among all the inhabitants, and the chiefs scarcely differ but in title from the bulk of the people. HIS AUTHORITY. Their authority is no more than nominal, being without that coercive power necessary to make themselves feared and implicitly obeyed. This is the natural result of poverty among nations habituated to peace; where the two great political engines of interest and military force are wanting. Their government is founded in opinion, and the submission of the people is voluntary. The domestic rule of a private family beyond a doubt suggested first the idea of government in society, and, this people having made but small advances in civil policy, theirs continues to retain a strong resemblance of its original. It is connected also with the principle of the feudal system, into which it would probably settle should it attain to a greater degree of refinement. All the other governments throughout the island are likewise a mixture of the patriarchal and feudal; and it may be observed that, where a spirit of conquest has reduced the inhabitants under the subjection of another power, or has added foreign districts to their dominion, there the feudal maxims prevail: where the natives, from situation or disposition, have long remained undisturbed by revolutions, there the simplicity of patriarchal rule obtains; which is not only the first and natural form of government of all rude nations rising from imperceptible beginnings, but is perhaps also the highest state of perfection at which they can ultimately arrive. It is not in this art alone that we perceive the next step from consummate refinement, leading to simplicity. MUCH LIMITED. The foundation of right to government among these people seems, as I said, to be the general consent. If a chief exerts an undue authority, or departs from their long established customs and usages, they conceive themselves at liberty to relinquish their allegiance. A commanding aspect, an insinuating manner, a ready fluency in discourse, and a penetration and sagacity in unravelling the little intricacies of their disputes, are qualities which seldom fail to procure to their possessor respect and influence, sometimes perhaps superior to that of an acknowledged chief. The pangean indeed claims despotic sway, and as far as he can find the means scruples not to exert it; but, his revenues being insufficient to enable him to keep up any force for carrying his mandates into execution, his actual powers are very limited, and he has seldom found himself able to punish a turbulent subject any otherwise than by private assassination. In appointing the heads of dusuns he does little more than confirm the choice already made among the inhabitants, and, were he arbitrarily to name a person of a different tribe or from another place, he would not be obeyed. He levies no tax, nor has any revenue (what he derives from the India Company being out of the question), or other emolument from his subjects than what accrues to him from the determination of causes. Appeals lie to him in all cases, and none of the inferior courts or assemblies of proattins are competent to pronounce sentence of death. But, all punishments being by the laws of the country commutable for fines, and the appeals being attended with expense and loss of time, the parties generally abide by the first decision. Those dusuns which are situated nearest to the residence of the pangeran, at Sungey-lamo, acknowledge somewhat more of subordination than the distant ones, which even in case of war esteem themselves at liberty to assist or not, as they think proper, without being liable to consequences. In answer to a question on this point, "we are his subjects, not his slaves," replied one of the proattins. But from the pangeran you hear a tale widely different. He has been known to say, in a political conversation, "such and such dusuns there will be no trouble with; they are my powder and shot;" explaining himself by adding that he could dispose of the inhabitants, as his ancestors had done, to purchase ammunition in time of war. ORIGIN OF THE PANGERAN IN RAJANG. The father of Pangeran Mangko Raja (whose name is preserved from oblivion by the part he took in the expulsion of the English from Fort Marlborough in the year 1719) was the first who bore the title of pangeran of Sungey-lamo. He had before been simply Baginda Sabyam. Until about a hundred years ago the southern coast of Sumatra as far as Urei River was dependant on the king of Bantam, whose Jennang (lieutenant or deputy) came yearly to Silebar or Bencoolen, collected the pepper and filled up the vacancies by nominating, or rather confirming in their appointments, the proattins. Soon after that time, the English having established a settlement at Bencoolen, the jennang informed the chiefs that he should visit them no more, and, raising the two headmen of Sungey-lamo and Sungey-itam (the latter of whom is chief of the Lemba country in the neighbourhood of Bencoolen River; on which however the former possesses some villages, and is chief of the Rejang tribes), to the dignity of pangeran, gave into their hands the government of the country, and withdrew his master's claim. Such is the account given by the present possessors of the origin of their titles, which nearly corresponds with the recorded transactions of the period. It followed naturally that the chief thus invested should lay claim to the absolute authority of the king whom he represented, and on the other hand that the proattins should still consider him but as one of themselves, and pay him little more than nominal obedience. He had no power to enforce his plea, and they retain their privileges, taking no oath of allegiance, nor submitting to be bound by any positive engagement. They speak of him however with respect, and in any moderate requisition that does not affect their adat or customs they are ready enough to aid him (tolong, as they express it), but rather as matter of favour than acknowledged obligation. The exemption from absolute subjection, which the dupatis contend for, they allow in turn to their ana-buahs, whom they govern by the influence of opinion only. The respect paid to one of these is little more than as to an elder of a family held in esteem, and this the old men of the dusun share with him, sitting by his side in judgment on the little differences that arise among themselves. If they cannot determine the cause, or the dispute be with one of a separate village, the neighbouring proattins of the same tribe meet for the purpose. From these litigations arise some small emoluments to the dupati, whose dignity in other respects is rather an expense than an advantage. In the erection of public works, such as the ballei or town hall, he contributes a larger share of materials. He receives and entertains all strangers, his dependants furnishing their quotas of provision on particular occasions; and their hospitality is such that food and lodging are never refused to those by whom they are required. SUCCESSION OF DUPATIS. Though the rank of dupati is not strictly hereditary the son, when of age and capable, generally succeeds the father at his decease: if too young, the father's brother, or such one of the family as appears most qualified, assumes the post; not as a regent but in his own right; and the minor comes in perhaps at the next vacancy. If this settlement happens to displease any portion of the inhabitants they determine amongst themselves what chief they will follow, and remove to his village, or a few families, separating themselves from the rest, elect a chief, but without contesting the right of him whom they leave. The chiefs, when nominated, do not however assume the title of dupati until confirmed by the pangeran, or by the Company's Resident. On every river there is at least one superior proattin, termed a pambarab, who is chosen by the rest and has the right or duty of presiding at those suits and festivals in which two or more villages are concerned, with a larger allotment of the fines, and (like Homer's distinguished heroes) of the provisions also. If more tribes than one are settled on the same river each has usually its pambarab. Not only the rivers or districts but indeed each dusun is independent of, though not unconnected with, its neighbours, acting in concert with them by specific consent. INFLUENCE OF THE EUROPEANS. The system of government among the people near the sea-coast, who, towards the southern extreme of the island, are the planters of pepper, is much influenced by the power of the Europeans, who are virtually the lords paramount, and exercise in fact many of the functions of sovereignty. The advantages derived to the subject from their sway, both in a political and civil sense, are infinitely greater than persons at a distance are usually inclined to suppose. Oppressions may be some times complained of at the hands of individuals, but, to the honour of the Company's service let me add, they have been very rare and of inconsiderable magnitude. Where a degree of discretionary power is intrusted to single persons abuses will, in the nature of things, arise in some instances; cases may occur in which the private passions of the Resident will interfere with his public duty; but the door has ever been open for redress, and examples have been made. To destroy this influence and authority in order to prevent these consequences were to cut off a limb in order to remove a partial complaint. By the Company's power the districts over which it extends are preserved in uninterrupted peace. Were it not for this power every dusun of every river would be at war with its neighbour. The natives themselves allow it, and it was evinced, even in the short space of time during which the English were absent from the coast, in a former war with France. Hostilities of district against district, so frequent among the independent nations to the northward, are, within the Company's jurisdiction, things unheard of; and those dismal catastrophes which in all the Malayan islands are wont to attend on private feuds but very rarely happen. "I tell you honestly," said a dupati, much irritated against one of his neighbours, "that it is only you," pointing to the Resident of Laye, "that prevents my plunging this weapon into his breast." The Resident is also considered as the protector of the people from the injustice and oppression of the chiefs. This oppression, though not carried on in the way of open force, which the ill-defined nature of their authority would not support, is scarcely less grievous to the sufferer. Expounders of the law, and deeply versed in the chicanery of it, they are ever lying in wait to take advantage of the necessitous and ignorant, till they have stripped them of their property, their family, and their personal liberty. To prevent these practices the partial administration of justice in consequence of bribes, the subornation of witnesses, and the like iniquities, a continual exertion of the Resident's attention and authority is required, and, as that authority is accidentally relaxed, the country falls into confusion. It is true that this interference is not strictly consonant with the spirit of the original contracts entered into by the Company with the native chiefs, who, in consideration of protection from their enemies, regular purchase of the produce of their country, and a gratuity to themselves proportioned to the quantity of that produce, undertake on their part to oblige their dependants to plant pepper, to refrain from the use of opium, the practice of gaming, and other vicious excesses, and to punish them in case of non-compliance. But, however prudent or equal these contracts might have been at the time their form was established, a change of circumstances, the gradual and necessary increase of the Company's sway which the peace and good of the country required, and the tacit consent of the chiefs themselves (among whom the oldest living have never been used to regard the Company, who have conferred on them their respective dignities, as their equals, or as trading in their districts upon sufferance), have long antiquated them; and custom and experience have introduced in their room an influence on one side, and a subordination on the other, more consistent with the power of the Company and more suitable to the benefits derived from the moderate and humane exercise of that power. Prescription has given its sanction to this change, and the people have submitted to it without murmuring, as it was introduced not suddenly but with the natural course of events, and bettered the condition of the whole while it tended to curb the rapacity of the few. Then let not short-sighted or designing persons, upon false principles of justice, or ill-digested notions of liberty, rashly endeavour to overturn a scheme of government, doubtless not perfect, but which seems best adapted to the circumstances it has respect to, and attended with the fewest disadvantages. Let them not vainly exert themselves to procure redress of imaginary grievances, for persons who complain not, or to infuse a spirit of freedom and independence, in a climate where nature possibly never intended they should flourish, and which, if obtained, would apparently be attended with effects that all their advantages would badly compensate. GOVERNMENT IN PASSUMMAH. In Passummah, which nearly borders upon Rejang, to the southward, there appears some difference in the mode of government, though the same spirit pervades both; the chiefs being equally without a regular coercive power, and the people equally free in the choice of whom they will serve. This is an extensive and comparatively populous country, bounded on the north by that of Lamattang, and on the south-east by that of Lampong, the river of Padang-guchi marking the division from the latter, near the sea-coast. It is distinguished into Passummah lebbar, or the broad, which lies inland, extending to within a day's journey of Muaro Mulang, on Palembang River; and Passummah ulu Manna, which is on the western side of the range of hills, whither the inhabitants are said to have mostly removed in order to avoid the government of Palembang. It is governed by four pangerans, who are independent of each other but acknowledge a kind of sovereignty in the sultan of Palembang, from whom they hold a chap (warrant) and receive a salin (investiture) on their accession. This subordination is the consequence of the king of Bantam's former influence over this part of the island, Palembang being a port anciently dependent on him, and now on the Dutch, whose instrument the sultan is. There is an inferior pangeran in almost every dusun (that title being nearly as common in Passummah as dupati towards the sea-coast) who are chosen by the inhabitants, and confirmed by the superior pangeran, whom they assist in the determination of causes. In the low country, where the pepper-planters reside, the title of kalippah prevails; which is a corruption of the Arabic word khalifah, signifying a vicegerent. Each of these presides over various tribes, which have been collected at different times (some of them being colonists from Rejang, as well as from a country to the eastward of them, named Haji) and have ranged themselves, some under one and some under another chief; having also their superior proattin, or pambarab, as in the northern districts. On the rivers of Peeno, Manna, and Bankannon are two kalippahs respectively, some of whom are also pangerans, which last seems to be here rather a title of honour, or family distinction, than of magistracy. They are independent of each other, owning no superior; and their number, according to the ideas of the people, cannot be increased. CHAPTER 12. LAWS AND CUSTOMS. MODE OF DECIDING CAUSES. CODE OF LAWS. LAWS OR CUSTOMS. There is no word in the languages of the island which properly and strictly signifies law; nor is there any person or class of persons among the Rejangs regularly invested with a legislative power. They are governed in their various disputes by a set of long-established customs (adat), handed down to them from their ancestors, the authority of which is founded on usage and general consent. The chiefs, in pronouncing their decisions, are not heard to say, "so the law directs," but "such is the custom." It is true that, if any case arises for which there is no precedent on record (of memory), they deliberate and agree on some mode that shall serve as a rule in future similar circumstances. If the affair be trifling that is seldom objected to; but when it is a matter of consequence the pangeran, or kalippah (in places where such are present), consults with the proattins, or lower order of chiefs, who frequently desire time to consider of it, and consult with the inhabitants of their dusun. When the point is thus determined the people voluntarily submit to observe it as an established custom; but they do not acknowledge a right in the chiefs to constitute what laws they think proper, or to repeal or alter their ancient usages, of which they are extremely tenacious and jealous. It is notwithstanding true that, by the influence of the Europeans, they have at times been prevailed on to submit to innovations in their customs; but, except when they perceived a manifest advantage from the change, they have generally seized an opportunity of reverting to the old practice. MODE OF DECIDING CAUSES. All causes, both civil and criminal, are determined by the several chiefs of the district, assembled together at stated times for the purpose of distributing justice. These meetings are called becharo (which signifies also to discourse or debate), and among us, by an easy corruption, bechars. Their manner of settling litigations in points of property is rather a species of arbitration, each party previously binding himself to submit to the award, than the exertion of a coercive power possessed by the court for the redress of wrongs. The want of a written criterion of the laws and the imperfect stability of traditionary usage must frequently, in the intricacies of their suits, give rise to contradictory decisions; particularly as the interests and passions of the chiefs are but too often concerned in the determination of the causes that come before them. COMPILATION OF LAWS. This evil had long been perceived by the English Residents, who, in the countries where we are settled, preside at the bechars, and, being instigated by the splendid example of the Governor-general of Bengal (Mr. Hastings), under whose direction a code of the laws of that empire was compiled (and translated by Mr. Halhed), it was resolved that the servants of the Company at each of the subordinates should, with the assistance of the ablest and most experienced of the natives, attempt to reduce to writing and form a system of the usages of the Sumatrans in their respective residencies. This was accordingly executed in some instances, and, a translation of that compiled in the residency of Laye coming into my possession, I insert it here, in the original form, as being attended with more authority and precision than any account furnished from my own memorandums could pretend to. REJANG LAWS. For the more regular and impartial administration of justice in the Residency of Laye, the laws and customs of the Rejangs, hitherto preserved by tradition, are now, after being discussed, amended, and ratified, in an assembly of the pangeran, pambarabs, and proattins, committed to writing in order that they may not be liable to alteration; that those deserving death or fine may meet their reward; that causes may be brought before the proper judges, and due amends made for defaults; that the compensation for murder may be fully paid; that property may be equitably divided; that what is borrowed may be restored; that gifts may become the undoubted property of the receiver; that debts may be paid and credits received agreeably to the customs that have been ever in force beneath the heavens and on the face of the earth. By the observance of the laws a country is made to flourish, and where they are neglected or violated ruin ensues. BECHARS, SUITS, OR TRIALS. PROCESS IN SUITS. The plaintiff and defendant first state to the bench the general circumstances of the case. If their accounts differ, and they consent to refer the matter to the decision of the proattins or bench, each party is to give a token, to the value of a suku, that he will abide by it, and to find security for the chogo, a sum stated to them, supposed to exceed the utmost probable damages. If the chogo do not exceed 30 dollars the bio or fee paid by each is 1 1/4 dollars. If the chogo do not exceed 30 to 50 dollars the bio or fee paid by each is 2 1/2 dollars. If the chogo do not exceed 50 to 100 dollars the bio or fee paid by each is 5 dollars. If the chogo do not exceed 100 dollars and upwards the bio or fee paid by each is 9 dollars. All chiefs of dusuns, or independent tallangs, are entitled to a seat on the bench upon trials. If the pangeran sits at the bechar he is entitled to one half of all bio, and of such fines, or shares of fines, as fall to the chiefs, the pambarabs, and other proattins dividing the remainder. If the pangeran be not present the pambarabs have one-third, and the other proattins two-thirds of the foregoing. Though a single pambarab only sit he is equally entitled to the above one-third. Of the other proattins five are requisite to make a quorum. No bechar, the chogo of which exceeds five dollars, to be held by the proattins, except in the presence of the Company's Resident, or his assistant. If a person maliciously brings a false accusation and it is proved such, he is liable to pay a sum equal to that which the defendant would have incurred had his design succeeded; which sum is to be divided between the defendant and the proattins, half and half. The fine for bearing false witness is twenty dollars and a buffalo. The punishment of perjury is left to the superior powers (orang alus). Evidence here is not delivered on previous oath. LAWS OF INHERITANCE. If the father leaves a will, or declares before witnesses his intentions relative to his effects or estate, his pleasure is to be followed in the distribution of them amongst his children. If he dies intestate and without declaring his intentions the male children inherit, share and share alike, except that the house and pusako (heirlooms, or effects on which, from various causes, superstitious value is placed) devolve invariably to the eldest. The mother (if by the mode of marriage termed jujur, which, with the other legal terms, will be hereafter explained) and the daughters are dependant on the sons. If a man, married by semando, dies, leaving children, the effects remain to the wife and children. If the woman dies, the effects remain to the husband and children. If either dies leaving no children the family of the deceased is entitled to half the effects. OUTLAWRY. Any person unwilling to be answerable for the debts or actions of his son or other relation under his charge may outlaw him, by which he, from that period, relinquishes all family connexion with him, and is no longer responsible for his conduct. The outlaw to be delivered up to the Resident or pangeran, accompanied with his writ of outlawry, in duplicate, one copy to be lodged with the Resident, and one with the outlaw's pambarab. The person who outlaws must pay all debts to that day. On amendment, the outlaw may be recalled to his family, they paying such debts as he may have contracted whilst outlawed, and redeeming his writ by payment of ten dollars and a goat, to be divided among the pangeran and pambarabs. If an outlaw commits murder he is to suffer death. If murdered, a bangun, or compensation, of fifty dollars, is to be paid for him to the pangeran. If an outlaw wounds a person he becomes a slave to the Company or pangeran for three years. If he absconds and is afterwards killed no bangun is to be paid for him. If an outlaw wounds a person and is killed in the scuffle no bangun is to be paid for him. If the relations harbour an outlaw they are held willing to redeem him, and become answerable for his debts. THEFT. A person convicted of theft pays double the value of the goods stolen, with a fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo, if they exceed the value of five dollars: if under five dollars the fine is five dollars and a goat; the value of the goods still doubled. All thefts under five dollars, and all disputes for property, or offences to that amount, may be compromised by the proattins whose dependants are concerned. Neither assertion nor oath of the prosecutor are sufficient for conviction without token (chino) of the robbery, namely, some article recovered of the goods stolen; or evidence sufficient. If any person, having permission to pass the night in the house of another, shall leave it before daybreak, without giving notice to the family, he shall be held accountable for any thing that may be that night missing. If a person passing the night in the house of another does not commit his effects to the charge of the owner of it, the latter is not accountable if they are stolen during the night. If he has given them in charge, and the stranger's effects only are lost during the night, the owner of the house becomes accountable. If effects both of the owner and lodger are stolen, each is to make oath to the other that he is not concerned in the robbery, and the parties put up with their loss, or retrieve it as they can. Oaths are usually made on the koran, or at the grave of an ancestor, according as the Mahometan religion prevails more or less. The party intended to be satisfied by the oath generally prescribes the mode and purport of it. BANGUN, OR COMPENSATION FOR MURDER. The bangun or compensation for the murder of a pambarab is 500 dollars. The bangun or compensation for the murder of an inferior proattin is 250 dollars. The bangun or compensation for the murder of a common person, man or boy, is 80 dollars. The bangun or compensation for the murder of a common person, woman or girl, is 150 dollars. The bangun or compensation for the murder of the legitimate children or wife of a pambarab is 250 dollars. Exclusive of the above, a fine of fifty dollars and a buffalo as tippong bumi (expiation), is to be paid on the murder of a pambarab; of twenty dollars and a buffalo on the murder of any other; which goes to the pambarab and proattins. The bangun of an outlaw is fifty dollars without tippong bumi. No bangun is to be paid for a person killed in the commission of a robbery. The bangun of pambarabs and proattins is to be divided between the pangeran and pambarabs one half; and the family of the deceased the other half. The bangun of private persons is to be paid to their families; deducting the adat ulasan of ten per cent to the pambarabs and proattins. If a man kills his slave he pays half his price as bangun to the pangeran, and the tippong bumi to the proattins. If a man kills his wife by jujur he pays her bangun to her family, or to the proattins, according as the tali kulo subsists or not. If a man kills or wounds his wife by semando he pays the same as for a stranger. If a man wounds his wife by jujur slightly he pays one tail or two dollars. If a man wounds his wife by jujur with a weapon and an apparent intention of killing her he pays a fine of twenty dollars. If the tali kulo (tie of relationship) is broken the wife's family can no longer claim bangun or fine: they revert to the proattins. If a pambarab wounds his wife by jujur he pays five dollars and a goat. If a pambarab's daughter, married by jujur, is wounded by her husband he pays five dollars and a goat. For a wound occasioning the loss of an eye or limb or imminent danger of death half the bangun is to be paid. For a wound on the head the pampas or compensation is twenty dollars. For other wounds the pampas from twenty dollars downwards. If a person is carried off and sold beyond the hills the offender, if convicted, must pay the bangun. If the person has been recovered previous to the trial the offender pays half the bangun. If a man kills his brother he pays to the proattins the tippong bumi. If a wife kills her husband she must suffer death. If a wife by semando wounds her husband her relations must pay what they would receive if he wounded her. DEBTS AND CREDITS. DEBTS. On the death of a person in debt (unless he die an outlaw, or married byambel-anak) his nearest relation becomes accountable to the creditors. Of a person married by ambel-anak the family he married into is answerable for debts contracted during the marriage: such as were previous to it his relations must pay. A father, or head of a family, has hitherto been in all cases liable to the debts of his sons, or younger relations under his care; but to prevent as much as possible his suffering by their extravagance it is now resolved: That if a young unmarried man (bujang) borrows money, or purchases goods without the concurrence of his father, or of the head of his family, the parent shall not be answerable for the debt. Should the son use his father's name in borrowing it shall be at the lender's risk if the father disavows it. If any person gives credit to the debtor of another (publicly known as such, either in the state of mengiring, when the whole of his labour belongs to the creditor, or of be-blah, when it is divided) the latter creditor can neither disturb the debtor for the sum nor oblige the former to pay it. He must either pay the first debt (membulati, consolidate) or let his claim lie over till the debtor finds means to discharge it. Interest of money has hitherto been three fanams per dollar per month, or one hundred and fifty per cent per annum. It is now reduced to one fanam, or fifty per cent per annum, and no person is to receive more, under penalty of fine, according to the circumstances of the case. No more than double the principal can in any case be recovered at law. A person lending money at interest, and letting it lie over beyond two years, loses the surplus. No pepper-planter to be taken as a debtor mengiring, under penalty of forty dollars. A planter in debt may engage in any work for hire that does not interfere with the care of his garden, but must on no account mengiring, even though his creditor offers to become answerable for the care of his garden. If a debtor mengiring absconds from his master (or creditor, who has a right to his personal service) without leave of absence he is liable to an increase of debt at the rate of three fanams per day. Females have been hitherto charged six fanams, but are now put upon a footing the same as the men. If a debtor mengiring, without security, runs away, his debt is liable to be doubled if he is absent above a week. If a man takes a person mengiring, without security for the debt, should the debtor die in that predicament the creditor loses his money, having no claim on the relations for it. If a person takes up money under promise of mengiring at a certain period, should he not perform his agreement he must pay interest for the money at one fanam per dollar per month. If a person, security for another, is obliged to pay the debt he is entitled to demand double from the debtor; but this claim to be moderated according to circumstances. If a person sues for a debt which is denied the onus probandi lies with the plaintiff. If he fails in proof the defendant, on making oath to the justness of his denial, shall be acquitted. If a debtor taking care of a pepper garden, or one that gives half produce to his creditor (be-blah), neglects it, the person in whose debt he is must hire a man to do the necessary work; and the hire so paid shall be added to the debt. Previous notice shall however be given to the debtor, that he may if he pleases avoid the payment of the hire by doing the work himself. If a person's slave, or debtor mengiring, be carried off and sold beyond the hills the offender is liable to the bangun, if a debtor, or to his price, if a slave. Should the person be recovered the offender is liable to a fine of forty dollars, of which the person that recovers him has half, and the owner or creditor the remainder. If the offender be not secured the reward shall be only five dollars to the person that brings the slave, and three dollars the debtor, if on this side the hills; if from beyond the hills the reward is doubled. LAWS REGARDING MARRIAGE. The modes of marriage prevailing hitherto have been principally by jujur, or by ambel-anak, the Malay semando being little used. The obvious ill consequences of the two former, from the debt or slavery they entailed upon the man that married, and the endless lawsuits they gave rise to, have at length induced the chiefs to concur in their being as far as possible laid aside; adopting in lieu of them the semando malayo, or mardiko, which they now strongly recommend to their dependants as free from the encumbrances of the other modes, and tending, by facilitating marriage, and the consequent increase of population, to promote the welfare of their country. Unwilling, however, to abolish arbitrarily a favourite custom of their ancestors, marriage by jujur is still permitted to take place, but under such restrictions as will, it is hoped, effectually counteract its hitherto pernicious consequences. Marriage by ambel-anak, which rendered a man and his descendants the property of the family he married into, is now prohibited, and none permitted for the future, but, by semando, or jujur, subject to the following regulations. The jujur of a virgin (gadis) has been hitherto one hundred and twenty dollars: the adat annexed to it have been tulis-tanggil, fifteen dollars; upah daun kodo, six dollars, and tali kulo, five dollars: The jujur of a widow, eighty dollars, without the adat; unless her children by the former marriage went with her, in which case the jujur gadis was paid in full. It is now determined that, on a man's giving his daughter in marriage by jujur for the future, there shall, in lieu of the above, be fixed a sum not exceeding one hundred and fifty dollars, to be in full for jujur and all adat whatever. That this sum shall, when the marriage takes place, be paid upon the spot; that if credit is given for the whole, or any part, it shall not be recoverable by course of law; and as the sum includes the tali kulo, or bond of relationship, the wife thereby becomes the absolute property of the husband. The marriage by jujur being thus rendered equivalent to actual sale, and the difficulty enhanced by the necessity of paying the full price upon the spot, it is probable that the custom will in a great measure cease, and, though not positively, be virtually abolished. Nor can a lawsuit follow from any future jujur. The adat, or custom, of the semando malayo or mardiko, to be paid by the husband to the wife's family upon the marriage taking place, is fixed at twenty dollars and a buffalo, for such as can afford it; and at ten dollars and a goat, for the poorer class of people. Whatever may be acquired by either party during the subsistence of the marriage becomes joint property, and they are jointly liable to debts incurred, if by mutual consent. Should either contract debts without the knowledge and consent of the other the party that contracts must alone bear them in case of a divorce. If either party insists upon, or both agree in it, a divorce must follow. No other power can separate them. The effects, debts, and credits in all cases to be equally divided. If the man insists upon the divorce he pays a charo of twenty dollars to the wife's family, if he obtained her a virgin; if a widow, ten dollars. If the woman insists on the divorce no charo is to be paid. If both agree in it the man pays half the charo. If a man married by semando dies--Vide Inheritance. If a man carries off a woman with her consent, and is willing either to pay her price at once by jujur, or marry her by semando, as the father or relations please, they cannot reclaim the woman, and the marriage takes place. If a man carries off a girl under age (which is determined by her not having her ears bored and teeth filed--bulum bertinde berdabong), though with her own consent, he pays, exclusive of the adat jujur, or semando, twenty dollars if she be the daughter of a pambarab, and ten dollars for the daughter of any other, whether the marriage takes place or not. If a risau, or person without property and character, carries off a woman (though with her own consent) and can neither pay the jujur, nor adat semando, the marriage shall not take place, but the man be fined five dollars and a goat for misdemeanour. If she be under age, his fine ten dollars and a goat. If a man has but one daughter, whom, to keep her near him, he wishes to give in marriage by semando; should a man carry her off, he shall not be allowed to keep her by jujur, though he offer the money upon the spot. If he refuses to marry her by semando, no marriage takes place, and he incurs a fine to the father of ten dollars and a goat. If a man carries off a woman under pretence of marriage he must lodge her immediately with some reputable family. If he carries her elsewhere, for a single night he incurs a fine of fifty dollars, payable to her parents or relations. If a man carries off a virgin against her inclination (me-ulih) he incurs a fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo: if a widow, ten dollars and a goat, and the marriage does not take place. If he commits a rape, and the parents do not choose to give her to him in marriage, he incurs a fine of fifty dollars. The adat libei, or custom of giving one woman in exchange for another taken in marriage, being a modification of the jujur, is still admitted of; but if the one be not deemed an equivalent for the other the necessary compensation (as the pangalappang, for nonage) must be paid upon the spot, or it is not recoverable by course of law. If a virgin is carried off (te-lari gadis) and another is given in exchange for her, by adat libei, twelve dollars must be paid with the latter as adat ka-salah. A man married by ambel-anak may redeem himself and family on payment of the jujur and adat of a virgin before-mentioned. The charo of a jujur marriage is twenty-five dollars. If the jujur be not yet paid in full and the man insists on a divorce he receives back what he has paid, less twenty-five dollars. If the woman insists no charo can be claimed by her relations. If the tali kulo is putus (broken) the wife is the husband's property and he may sell her if he pleases. If a man compels a female debtor of his to cohabit with him her debt, if the fact be proved, is thereby discharged, if forty dollars and upwards: if under forty the debt is cleared and he pays the difference. If she accuses her master falsely of this offence her debt is doubled. If he cohabits with her by her consent her parents may compel him to marry her, either by jujur or semando, as they please. If an unmarried woman proves with child the man against whom the fact is proved must marry her; and they pay to the proattins a joint fine of twenty dollars and a buffalo. This fine, if the parties agree to it, may be levied in the country by the neighbouring proattins (without bringing it before the regular court). If a woman proves with child by a relation within the prohibited degrees they pay to the proattins a joint fine of twice fifty dollars and two buffaloes (hukum duo akup). A marriage must not take place between relations within the third degree, or tungal nene. But there are exceptions for the descendants of females who, passing into other families, become as strangers. Of two brothers, the children may not intermarry. A sister's son may marry a brother's daughter; but a brother's son may not marry a sister's daughter. If relations within the prohibited degrees intermarry they incur a fine of twice fifty dollars and two buffaloes, and the marriage is not valid. On the death of a man married by jujur or purchase, any of his brothers, the eldest in preference, if he pleases, may succeed to his bed. If no brother chooses it they may give the woman in marriage to any relation on the father's side, without adat, the person who marries her replacing the deceased (mangabalu). If no relation takes her and she is given in marriage to a stranger he may be either adopted into the family to replace the deceased, without adot, or he may pay her jujur, or take her by semando, as her relations please. If a person lies with a man's wife by force he is deserving of death; but may redeem his head by payment of the bangun, eighty dollars, to be divided between the husband and proattins. If a man surprises his wife in the act of adultery he may put both man and woman to death upon the spot, without being liable to any bangun. If he kills the man and spares his wife he must redeem her life by payment of fifty dollars to the proattins. If the husband spares the offender, or has only information of the fact from other persons, he may not afterwards kill him, but has his remedy at law, the fine for adultery being fifty dollars, to be divided between the husband and the proattins. If he divorces his wife on this account he pays no charo. If a younger sister be first married, the husband pays six dollars, adat pelalu, for passing over the elder. GAMING. All gaming, except cock-fighting at stated periods, is absolutely prohibited. The fine for each offence is fifty dollars. The person in whose house it is carried on, if with his knowledge, is equally liable to the fine with the gamesters. A proattin knowing of gaming in his dusun and concealing it incurs a fine of twenty dollars. One half of the fines goes to the informer, the other to the Company, to be distributed among the industrious planters at the yearly payment of the customs. OPIUM FARM. The fine for the retailing of opium by any other than the person who farms the license is fifty dollars for each offence: one half to the farmer, and the other to the informer. EXECUTIVE POWER. The executive power for enforcing obedience to these laws and customs, and for preserving the peace of the country, is, with the concurrence of the pangeran and proattins, vested in the Company's Resident. Done at Laye, in the month Rabia-al akhir, in the year of the Hejra 1193, answering to April 1779. JOHN MARSDEN, Resident. ... LAWS OR ADAT OF MANNA. Having procured likewise a copy of the regulations sanctioned by the chiefs of the Passummah country assembled at Manna, I do not hesitate to insert it, not only as varying in many circumstances from the preceding, but because it may eventually prove useful to record the document. INHERITANCE. If a person dies having children these inherit his effects in equal portions, and become answerable for the debts of the deceased. If any of his brothers survive they may be permitted to share with their nephews, but rather as matter of courtesy than of right, and only when the effects of the deceased devolved to him from his father or grandfather. If he was a man of rank it is common for the son who succeeds him in title to have a larger share. This succession is not confined to the eldest born but depends much on private agreement in the family. If the deceased person leaves no kindred behind him the tribe to which he belonged shall inherit his effects, and be answerable for his debts. DEBTS. When a debt becomes due and the debtor is unable to pay his creditors, or has no effects to deposit, he shall himself, or his wife, or his children, live with the creditor as a bond-slave or slaves until redeemed by the payment of the debt. If a debt is contracted without any promise of interest none shall be demanded, although the debt be not paid until some time after it first became due. The rate of interest is settled at twenty per cent per annum; but in all suits relating to debts on interest, how long soever they may have been outstanding, the creditor shall not be entitled to more interest than may amount to a sum equal to the capital: if the debt is recent it shall be calculated as above. If any person lends to another a sum exceeding twenty-five dollars and sues for payment before the chiefs he shall be entitled only to one year's interest on the sum lent. If money is lent to the owner of a padi-plantation, on an agreement to pay interest in grain, and after the harvest is over the borrower omits to pay the stipulated quantity, the lender shall be entitled to receive at the rate of fifteen dollars for ten lent; and if the omission should be repeated another season the lender shall be entitled to receive double the principal. In all cases of debt contested the onus probandi lies with the demandant, who must make good his claim by creditable evidence, or in default thereof the respondent may by oath clear himself from the debt. On the other hand, if the respondent allows such a debt to have existed but asserts a previous payment, it rests with him to prove such payment by proper evidence, or in defect the demandant shall by oath establish his debt. EVIDENCE AND OATHS. EVIDENCE. In order to be deemed a competent and unexceptionable evidence person must be of a different family and dusun from the person in whose behalf he gives evidence, of good character, and a free man: but if the dispute be between two inhabitants of the same dusun persons of such dusun are allowed to be complete evidence. In respect to the oath taken by the principals in a dispute the hukuman (or comprehensive quality of the oath) depends on the nature of the property in dispute: if it relates to the effects of the grandfather the hukuman must extend to the descendants from the grandfather; if it relates to the effects of the father it extends to the descendants of the father, etc. If any of the parties proposed to be included in the operation of the oath refuse to subject themselves to the oath the principal in the suit loses his cause. PAWNS OR PLEDGES. If any person holding a pawn or pledge such as wearing-apparel, household effects, or krises, swords, or kujur (lances), shall pledge it for a larger sum than he advanced for it, he shall be answerable to the owner for the full value of it, on payment of the sum originally advanced. If any person holding as a pledge man, woman, or child shall pledge them to any other at an advanced sum, or without the knowledge of the owner, and by these means the person pledged should be sold as a slave, he shall make good to the owner the full value of such slave, and pay a fine of twenty-eight dollars. If any person whatever holding man, woman, or child as a pawn, either with janji lalu (term expired) or not, or with or without the consent of the original owner, shall sell such person as a slave without the knowledge of the Resident and Chiefs, he shall be fined twenty-eight dollars. BUFFALOES. CATTLE. All persons who keep buffaloes shall register at the godong (factory­house) their tingas or mark; and, in case any dispute shall arise about a marked buffalo, no person shall be allowed to plead a mark that is not registered. If any wild (stray) buffalo or buffaloes, unmarked, shall be taken in a kandang (staked inclosure) they shall be adjudged the property of any who takes upon himself to swear to them; and, if it should happen that two or more persons insist upon swearing to the same buffaloes, they shall be divided among them equally. If no individual will swear to the property the buffaloes are to be considered as belonging to the kalippah or magistrate of the district where they were caught. The person who takes any buffaloes in his kandang shall be entitled to a gratuity of two dollars per head. If any buffaloes get into a pepper-garden, either by day or night, the owner of the garden shall have liberty to kill them, without being answerable to the owner of the buffaloes: yet, if it shall appear on examination that the garden was not properly fenced, and from this defect suffers damage, the owner shall be liable to such fine as the Resident and Chiefs shall judge it proper to impose. THEFT. A person convicted of stealing money, wearing-apparel, household effects, arms, or the like shall pay the owner double the value of the goods stolen and be fined twenty-eight dollars. A person convicted of stealing slaves shall pay to the owner at the rate of eighty dollars per head, which is estimated to be double the value, and fined twenty­eight dollars. A person convicted of stealing betel, fowls, or coconuts shall pay the owner double the value and be fined seven dollars, half of which fine is to be received by the owner. If buffaloes are stolen they shall be valued at twelve dollars per head: padi at four bakul (baskets) for the dollar. If the stolen goods be found in the possession of a person who is not able to account satisfactorily how he came by them he shall be deemed the guilty person. If a person attempting to seize a man in the act of thieving shall get hold of any part of his clothes which are known, or his kris or siwah, this shall be deemed a sufficient token of the theft. If two witnesses can be found who saw the stolen goods in possession of a third person such person shall be deemed guilty unless he can account satisfactorily how he became possessed of the goods. The oath taken by such witnesses shall either include the descendants of their father, or simply their own descendants, according to the discretion of the chiefs who sit as judges. If several people sleep in one house, and one of them leaves the house in the night without giving notice to any of the rest, and a robbery be committed in the house that night, the person so leaving the house shall be deemed guilty of the crime, provided the owner of the stolen goods be willing to subject himself to an oath on the occasion; and provided the other persons sleeping in the house shall clear themselves by oath from being concerned in the theft: but if it should happen that a person so convicted, being really innocent, should in after time discover the person actually guilty, he shall have liberty to bring his suit and recover. If several persons are sleeping in a house and a robbery is committed that night, although none leave the house the whole shall be obliged to make oath that they had no knowledge of, or concern in, the theft, or on refusal shall be deemed guilty. In all cases of theft where only a part of the stolen goods is found the owner must ascertain upon oath the whole amount of his loss. MURDER, WOUNDING, AND ASSAULT. A person convicted of murder shall pay to the relations of the deceased a bangun of eighty-eight dollars, one suku, and seventy-five cash; to the chiefs a fine of twenty-eight dollars; the bhasa lurah, which is a buffalo and one hundred bamboos of rice; and the palantan, which is fourteen dollars. If a son kills his father, or a father his son, or a man kills his brother, he shall pay a fine of twenty-eight dollars, and the bhasa lurah as above. If a man kills his wife the relations of the deceased shall receive half a bangun: if any other kills a man's wife the husband is entitled to the bangun, but shall pay out of it to the relations of the wife ten dollars. In wounds a distinction is made in the parts of the body. A wound in any part from the hips upward is esteemed more considerable than in the lower parts. If a person wounds another with sword, kris, kujur, or other weapon, and the wound is considerable, so as to maim him, he shall pay to the person wounded a half-bangun, and to the chiefs half of the fine for murder, with half of the bhasa lurah, etc. If the wound is trifling but fetches blood he shall pay the person wounded the tepong of fourteen dollars, and be fined fourteen dollars. If a person wounds another with a stick, bamboo, etc., he shall simply pay the tepong of fourteen dollars. If in any dispute between two people krises are drawn the person who first drew his kris shall be fined fourteen dollars. If any person having a dispute assembles together his friends with arms, he shall be fined twenty-eight dollars. MARRIAGE, DIVORCE, ETC. MARRIAGE. There are two modes of marriage used here: one by purchase, called jujur or kulu, the other by adoption, called ambel anak. First of jujur. JUJUR. When a person is desirous of marrying he deposits a sum of money in the hands of the father of the virgin, which is called the pagatan. This sum is not esteemed part of the purchase, but as an equivalent for the dandanan (paraphernalia, or ornamental apparel) of the bride, and is not fixed but varies according to the circumstances and rank of the father. The amount of the jujur is fixed at seventy dollars, including the hurup niawa (price of life), forty dollars, a kris with gold about the head and silver about the sheath, valued at ten dollars, and the meniudakan billi or putus kulo (completion of purchase) at twenty. If a young man runs away with a gadis or virgin without the consent of the father he does not act contrary to the laws of the country; but if he refuses to pay the full jujur on demand he shall be fined twenty­eight dollars. If the father, having received the pagatan of one man, marries his daughter to another before he returns the money to the first, he shall be fined fourteen dollars, and the man who marries the daughter shall also be fined fourteen dollars. In case of divorce (which may take place at the will of either party) the dandanan brought by the wife is to be valued and to be deducted from the purchase-money. If a divorce originates from the man, and before the whole purchase­money is paid, the man shall receive back what he has advanced after deducting the dandanan as above, and fourteen dollars, called penusutan. If the divorce originates with the woman the whole purchase-money shall be returned, and the children, if any, remain with the father. If a divorce originates with the man, when the whole purchase-money has been paid, or kulo sudah putus, he shall not be entitled to receive back the purchase-money, but may recall his wife whenever it shall be agreeable to him. An exact estimation is made of the value of the woman's ornaments, and what are not restored with her must be made good by the husband. If there are children they are in this case to be divided, or if there be only one the husband is to allow the woman fifteen dollars, and to take the child. Secondly, of ambel anak. AMBEL ANAK. When a man marries after the custom called ambel anak he pays no money to the father of the bride, but becomes one of his family, and is entirely upon the footing of a son, the father of his wife being thenceforward answerable for his debts, etc., in the same manner as for his own children. The married man becomes entirely separate from his original family, and gives up his right of inheritance. It is however in the power of the father of the wife to divorce from her his adopted son whenever he thinks proper, in which case the husband is not entitled to any of the children, nor to any effects other than simply the clothes on his back: but if the wife is willing still to live with him, and he is able to redeem her and the children by paying the father a hundred dollars, it is not at the option of the father to refuse accepting this sum; and in that case the marriage becomes a kulo or jujur, and is subject to the same rules. If any unmarried woman is convicted of incontinence, or a married woman of adultery, they shall pay to the chiefs a fine of forty dollars, or in defect thereof become slaves, and the man with whom the crime was committed shall pay a fine of thirty dollars, or in like manner become a slave; and the parties between them shall also be at the expense of a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. This is called the gawe pati or panjingan. If an unmarried woman proves with child and refuses to name the man with whom she was guilty she shall pay the whole fine of seventy dollars, and furnish the buffalo, etc. If a woman after marriage brings forth a child before the due course of nature she shall be fined twenty-eight dollars. If a man keeps a young woman in his house for any length of time, and has a child by her without being regularly married, he shall be fined twenty-eight dollars, and furnish a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. If a person detects the offenders in the act of adultery, and, attempting to seize the man, is obliged to kill him in self-defence, he shall not pay the bangun, nor be fined, but only pay the bhasa lurah, which is a buffalo and a hundred bamboos of rice. On the other hand, if the guilty person kills the one who attempts to seize him, he shall be deemed guilty of murder and pay the bangun and fine accordingly. If a man holding a woman as a pawn, or in the condition of mengiring shall commit fornication with her, he shall forfeit his claim to the debt, and the woman become free. OUTLAWRY. If the members of a family have suffered inconvenience from the ill conduct of any of their relations by having been rendered answerable for their debts, etc., it shall be in their power to clear themselves from all future responsibility on his account by paying to the chiefs the sum of thirty dollars, a buffalo, and a hundred bamboos of rice. This is termed buang surat. Should the person so cast out be afterwards murdered the relations have forfeited their right to the bangun, which devolves to the chiefs. Dated at Manna, July 1807. JOHN CRISP, Resident. CHAPTER 13. REMARKS ON, AND ELUCIDATION OF, THE VARIOUS LAWS AND CUSTOMS. MODES OF PLEADING. NATURE OF EVIDENCE. OATHS. INHERITANCE. OUTLAWRY. THEFT, MURDER, AND COMPENSATION FOR IT. ACCOUNT OF A FEUD. DEBTS. SLAVERY. REMARKS ON THE FOREGOING LAWS. The foregoing system of the adat, or customs of the country, being digested chiefly for the use of the natives, or of persons well acquainted with their manners in general, and being designed, not for an illustration of the customs, but simply as a standard of right, the fewest and concisest terms possible have been made use of, and many parts must necessarily be obscure to the bulk of readers. I shall therefore revert to those particulars that may require explanation, and endeavour to throw a light upon the spirit and operation of such of their laws especially as seem most to clash with our ideas of distributive justice. This comment is the more requisite as it appears that some of their regulations, which were judged to be inconsistent with the prosperity of the people, were altered and amended through the more enlightened reason of the persons who acted as the representatives of the English company; and it may be proper to recall the idea of the original institutions. MODE OF PLEADING. The plaintiff and defendant usually plead their own cause, but if circumstances render them unequal to it they are allowed to pinjam mulut (borrow a mouth). Their advocate may be a proattin, or other person indifferently; nor is there any stated compensation for the assistance, though if the cause be gained a gratuity is generally given, and too apt to be rapaciously exacted by these chiefs from their clients, when their conduct is not attentively watched. The proattin also, who is security for the damages, receives privately some consideration; but none is openly allowed of. A refusal on his part to become security for his dependant or client is held to justify the latter in renouncing his civil dependence and choosing another patron. EVIDENCE. Evidence is used among these people in a manner very different from the forms of our courts of justice. They rarely admit it on both sides of the question; nor does the witness first make a general oath to speak the truth, and nothing but the truth. When a fact is to be established, either on the part of the plaintiff or of the defendant, he is asked if he can produce any evidence to the truth of what he asserts. On answering in the affirmative he is directed to mention the person. This witness must not be a relation, a party concerned, nor even belong to the same dusun. He must be a responsible man, having a family, and a determinate place of residence. Thus qualified, his evidence may be admitted. They have a settled rule in respect to the party that is to produce evidence. For instance; A. sues B. for a debt: B. denies the debt: A. is now to bring evidence to the debt, or, on failure thereof, it remains with B. to clear himself of the debt by swearing himself not indebted. Had B. acknowledged that such a debt had formerly subsisted but was since paid, it would be incumbent on B. to prove the payment by evidence, or on failure it would rest with A. to confirm the debt's being still due, by his oath. This is an invariable mode, observed in all cases of property. OATHS. As their manner of giving evidence differs from ours so also does the nature of an oath among them differ from our idea of it. In many cases it is requisite that they should swear to what it is not possible in the nature of things they should know to be true. A. sues B. for a debt due from the father or grandfather of B. to the father or grandfather of A. The original parties are dead and no witness of the transaction survives. How is the matter to be decided? It remains with B. to make oath that his father or grandfather never was indebted to those of A.; or that if he was indebted the debt had been paid. This, among us, would be esteemed a very strange method of deciding causes; but among these people something of the kind is absolutely necessary. As they have no sort of written accounts, nor anything like records or registers among them, it would be utterly impossible for the plaintiff to establish the debt by a positive proof in a multitude of cases; and were the suit to be dismissed at once, as with us, for want of such proof, numbers of innocent persons would lose the debts really due to them through the knavery of the persons indebted, who would scarce ever fail to deny a debt. On the side of the defendant again; if he was not permitted to clear himself of the debt by oath, but that it rested with the plaintiff only to establish the fact by a single oath, there would be a set of unprincipled fellows daily swearing debts against persons who never were indebted to any of their generation. In such suits, and there are many of them, it requires no small discernment to discover, by the attendant circumstances, where the truth lies; but this may be done in most instances by a person who is used to their manners and has a personal knowledge of the parties concerned. But what they mean by their oath, in those cases where it is impossible they should be acquainted with the facts they design to prove, is no more than this; that they are so convinced of the truth of the matter as to be willing to subject themselves to the paju sumpah (destructive consequences of perjury) if what they assert is believed by them to be false. The form of words used is nearly as follows: "If what I now declare, namely" (here the fact is recited) "is truly and really so, may I be freed and clear from my oath: if what I assert is wittingly false, may my oath be the cause of my destruction." But it may be easily supposed that, where the punishment for a false oath rests altogether with the invisible powers, where no direct infamy, no corporal punishment is annexed to the perjury, there cannot fail to be many who would makan sumpah (swallow an oath), and willingly incur the guilt, in order to acquire a little of their neighbour's property. Although an oath, as being an appeal to the superior powers, is supposed to come within their cognizance alone, and that it is contrary to the spirit of the customs of these people to punish a perjury by human means, even if it were clearly detected; yet, so far prevalent is the opinion of their interposition in human affairs that it is very seldom any man of substance, or who has a family that he fears may suffer by it, will venture to forswear himself; nor are there wanting apparent examples to confirm them in this notion. Any accident that happens to a man who has been known to take a false oath, or to his children or grandchildren, is carefully recorded in memory, and attributed to this sole cause. The dupati of Gunong Selong and his family have afforded an instance that is often quoted among the Rejangs, and has evidently had great weight. It was notorious that he had, about the year 1770, taken in the most solemn manner a false oath. He had at that time five sons grown up to manhood. One of them, soon after, in a scuffle with some bugis (country soldiers) was wounded and died. The dupati the next year lost his life in the issue of a disturbance he had raised in the district. Two of the sons died afterwards, within a week of each other. Mas Kaddah, the fourth, is blind; and Treman, the fifth, lame. All this is attributed to, and firmly believed to be the consequence of, the father's perjury. COLLATERAL OATHS. In administering an oath, if the matter litigated respects the property of the grandfather, all the collateral branches of the family descended from him are understood to be included in its operation: if the father's effects only are concerned, or the transaction happened in his lifetime, his descendants are included: if the affair regards only the present parties and originated with them, they and their immediate descendants only are comprehended in the consequences of the oath; and if any single one of these descendants refuses to join in the oath it vitiates the whole; that is, it has the same effect as if the party himself refused to swear; a case that not unfrequently occurs. It may be observed that the spirit of this custom tends to the requiring a weight of evidence and an increase of the importance of the oath in proportion as the distance of time renders the fact to be established less capable of proof in the ordinary way. Sometimes the difficulty of the case alone will induce the court to insist on administering the oath to the relations of the parties, although they are nowise concerned in the transaction. I recollect an instance where three people were prosecuted for a theft. There was no positive proof against them, yet the circumstances were so strong that it appeared proper to put them to the test of one of these collateral oaths. They were all willing, and two of them swore. When it came to the turn of the third he could not persuade his relations to join with him, and he was accordingly brought in for the whole amount of the goods stolen, and penalties annexed. These customs bear a strong resemblance to the rules of proof established among our ancestors, the Anglo-Saxons, who were likewise obliged, in the case of oaths taken for the purpose of exculpation, to produce a certain number of compurgators; but, as these might be any indifferent persons, who would take upon them to bear testimony to the truth of what their neighbour swore, from an opinion of his veracity, there seems to be more refinement and more knowledge of human nature in the Sumatran practice. The idea of devoting to destruction, by a wilful perjury, not himself only, but all, even the remotest branches, of a family which constitutes his greatest pride, and of which the deceased heads are regarded with the veneration that was paid to the dii lares of the ancients, has doubtless restrained many a man from taking a false oath, who without much compunction would suffer thirty or a hundred compurgators of the former description to take their chance of that fate. Their strongest prejudices are here converted to the most beneficial purposes. CEREMONY OF TAKING AN OATH. The place of greatest solemnity for administering an oath is the krammat or burying-ground of their ancestors, and several superstitious ceremonies are observed on the occasion. The people near the sea-coast, in general, by long intercourse with the Malays, have an idea of the Koran, and usually employ this in swearing, which the priests do not fail to make them pay for; but the inland people keep, laid up in their houses, certain old reliques, called in the Rejang language pesakko, and in Malayan, sactian, which they produce when an oath is to be taken. The person who has lost his cause, and with whom it commonly rests to bind his adversary by an oath, often desires two or three days' time to get ready these his swearing apparatus, called on such occasions sumpahan, of which some are looked upon as more sacred and of greater efficacy than others. They consist of an old rusty kris, a broken gun barrel, or any ancient trumpery, to which chance or caprice has annexed an idea of extraordinary virtue. These they generally dip in water, which the person who swears drinks off, after having pronounced the form of words before mentioned.* The pangeran of Sungei-lamo has by him certain copper bullets which had been steeped in water drunk by the Sungei­etam chiefs, when they bound themselves never to molest his districts: which they have only done since as often as they could venture it with safety, from the relaxation of our government. But these were political oaths. The most ordinary sumpahan is a kris, and on the blade of this they sometimes drop lime-juice, which occasions a stain on the lips of the person performing the ceremony; a circumstance that may not improbably be supposed to make an impression on a weak and guilty mind. Such would fancy that the external stain conveyed to the beholders an image of the internal. At Manna the sumpahan most respected is a gun barrel. When produced to be sworn on it is carried to the spot in state, under an umbrella, and wrapped in silk. This parade has an advantageous effect by influencing the mind of the party with a high idea of the importance and solemnity of the business. In England the familiarity of the object and the summary method of administering oaths are well known to diminish their weight, and to render them too often nugatory. They sometimes swear by the earth, laying their hands upon it and wishing that it may never produce aught for their nourishment if they speak falsely. In all these ceremonies they burn on the spot a little gum benzoin--Et acerra thuris plena, positusque carbo in cespite vivo. (*Footnote. The form of taking an oath among the people of Madagascar very nearly resembles the ceremonies used by the Sumatrans. There is a strong similarity in the articles they swear on and in the circumstance of their drinking the consecrated water.) It is a striking circumstance that practices which boast so little of reason in their foundation, which are in fact so whimsical and childish, should yet be common to nations the most remote in situation, climate, language, complexion, character, and everything that can distinguish one race of people from another. Formed of like materials, and furnished with like original sentiments, the uncivilized tribes of Europe and of India trembled from the same apprehensions, excited by similar ideas, at a time when they were ignorant, or even denied the possibility of each other's existence. Mutual wrong and animosity, attended with disputes and accusations, are not by nature confined to either description of people. Each, in doubtful litigations, might seek to prove their innocence by braving, on the justice of their cause, those objects which inspired amongst their countrymen the greatest terror. The Sumatran, impressed with an idea of invisible powers, but not of his own immortality, regards with awe the supposed instruments of their agency, and swears on krises, bullets, and gun barrels; weapons of personal destruction. The German Christian of the seventh century, more indifferent to the perils of this life, but not less superstitious, swore on bits of rotten wood and rusty nails, which he was taught to revere as possessing efficacy to secure him from eternal perdition. INHERITANCE. When a man dies his effects, in common course, descend to his male children in equal shares; but if one among them is remarkable for his abilities above the rest, though not the eldest, he usually obtains the largest proportion, and becomes the head of the tungguan or house; the others voluntarily yielding him the superiority. A pangeran of Manna left several children; none of them succeeded to the title, but a name of distinction was given to one of the younger, who was looked upon as chief of the family after the father's decease. Upon asking the eldest how it happened that the name of distinction passed over him and was conferred on his younger brother, he answered with great naivete, "because I am accounted weak and silly." If no male children are left and a daughter only remains they contrive to get her married by the mode of ambel anak, and thus the tungguan of the father continues. An equal distribution of property among children is more natural and conformable to justice than vesting the whole in the eldest son, as prevails throughout most part of Europe; but where wealth consists in landed estate the latter mode, beside favouring the pride of family, is attended with fewest inconveniences. The property of the Sumatrans being personal merely, this reason does not operate with them. Land is so abundant in proportion to the population that they scarcely consider it as the subject of right any more than the elements of air and water; excepting so far as in speculation the prince lays claim to the whole. The ground however on which a man plants or builds, with the consent of his neighbours, becomes a species of nominal property, and is transferable; but as it costs him nothing beside his labour it is only the produce which is esteemed of value, and the compensation he receives is for this alone. A temporary usufruct is accordingly all that they attend to, and the price, in case of sale, is generally ascertained by the coconut, durian, and other fruit-trees that have been planted on it; the buildings being for the most part but little durable. Whilst any of those subsist the descendants of the planter may claim the ground, though it has been for years abandoned. If they are cut down he may recover damages; but if they have disappeared in the course of nature the land reverts to the public. They have a custom of keeping by them a sum of money as a resource against extremity of distress, and which common exigencies do not call forth. This is a refined antidote against despair, because, whilst it remains possible to avoid encroaching on that treasure, their affairs are not at the worst, and the idea of the little hoard serves to buoy up their spirits and encourage them to struggle with wretchedness. It usually therefore continues inviolate and descends to the heir, or is lost to him by the sudden exit of the parent. From their apprehension of dishonesty and insecurity of their houses their money is for the most part concealed in the ground, the cavity of an old beam, or other secret place; and a man on his death-bed has commonly some important discovery of this nature to make to his assembled relations. OUTLAWRY. The practice of outlawing an individual of a family by the head of it (called lepas or buang dangan surat, to let loose, or cast out with a writing) has its foundation in the custom which obliges all the branches to be responsible for the debts contracted by any one of the kindred. When an extravagant and unprincipled spendthrift is running a career that appears likely to involve his family in ruinous consequences, they have the right of dissolving the connexion and clearing themselves of further responsibility by this public act, which, as the writ expresses it, sends forth the outcast, as a deer into the woods, no longer to be considered as enjoying the privileges of society. This character is what they term risau, though it is sometimes applied to persons not absolutely outlawed, but of debauched and irregular manners. In the Saxon law we find a strong resemblance to this custom; the kindred of a murderer being exempt from the feud if they abandoned him to his fate. They bound themselves in this case neither to converse with him nor to furnish him with meat or other necessaries. This is precisely the Sumatran outlawry, in which it is always particularly specified (beside what relates to common debts) that if the outlaw kills a person the relations shall not pay the compensation, nor claim it if he is killed. But the writ must have been issued before the event, and they cannot free themselves by a subsequent process, as it would seem the Saxons might. If an outlaw commits murder the friends of the deceased may take personal revenge on him, and are not liable to be called to an account for it; but if such be killed, otherwise than in satisfaction for murder, although his family have no claim, the prince of the country is entitled to a certain compensation, all outlaws being nominally his property, like other wild animals. COMPENSATION FOR MURDER. It seems strange to those who are accustomed to the severity of penal laws, which in most instances inflict punishment exceeding by many degrees the measure of the offence, how a society can exist in which the greatest of all crimes is, agreeably to established custom, expiated by the payment of a certain sum of money; a sum not proportioned to the rank and ability of the murderer, nor to the premeditation, or other aggravating circumstances of the fact, but regulated only by the quality of the person murdered. The practice had doubtless its source in the imbecility of government, which, being unable to enforce the law of retaliation, the most obvious rule of punishment, had recourse to a milder scheme of retribution as being preferable to absolute indemnity. The latter it was competent to carry into execution because the guilty persons readily submit to a penalty which effectually relieves them from the burden of anxiety for the consequences of their action. Instances occur in the history of all states, particularly those which suffer from internal weakness, of iniquities going unpunished, owing to the rigour of the pains denounced against them by the law, which defeats its own purpose. The original mode of avenging a murder was probably by the arm of the person nearest in consanguinity, or friendship, to the deceased; but this was evidently destructive of the public tranquillity, because thereby the wrong became progressive, each act of satisfaction, or justice, as it was called, being the source of a new revenge, till the feud became general in the community; and some method would naturally be suggested to put a stop to such confusion. The most direct step is to vest in the magistrate or the law the rights of the injured party, and to arm them with a vindictive power; which principle the policy of more civilized societies has refined to that of making examples in terrorem, with a view of preventing future, not of revenging past crimes. But this requires a firmness of authority to which the Sumatran governments are strangers. They are without coercive power, and the submission of the people is little other than voluntary; especially of the men of influence, who are held in subjection rather by the sense of general utility planted in the breast of mankind, attachment to their family and connexions, and veneration for the spot in which their ancestors were interred, than by the apprehension of any superior authority. These considerations however they would readily forego, renounce their fealty, and quit their country, if in any case they were in danger of paying with life the forfeit of their crimes; to lesser punishments those ties induce them to submit; and to strengthen this hold their customs wisely enjoin that every the remotest branch of the family shall be responsible for the payment of their adjudged and other debts; and in cases of murder the bangun, or compensation, may be levied on the inhabitants of the village the culprit belonged to, if it happens that neither he nor any of his relations can be found. The equality of punishment, which allows to the rich man the faculty of committing, with small inconvenience, crimes that bring utter destruction on the poor man and his family, and which is in fact the greatest inequality, originates certainly from the interested design of those through whose influence the regulation came to be adopted. Its view was to establish a subordination of persons. In Europe the absolute distinction between rich and poor, though too sensibly felt, is not insisted upon in speculation, but rather denied or explained away in general reasoning. Among the Sumatrans it is coolly acknowledged, and a man without property, family, or connexions never, in the partiality of self-love, considers his own life as being of equal value with that of a man of substance. A maxim, though not the practice, of their law, says, "that he who is able to pay the bangun for murder must satisfy the relations of the deceased; he who is unable, must suffer death." But the avarice of the relations prefers selling the body of the delinquent for what his slavery will fetch them (for such is the effect of imposing a penalty that cannot be paid) to the satisfaction of seeing the murder revenged by the public execution of a culprit of that mean description. Capital punishments are therefore almost totally out of use among them; and it is only par la loi du plus fort that the Europeans take the liberty of hanging a notorious criminal now and then, whom however their own chiefs always condemn, and formally sentence. CORPORAL PUNISHMENT. Corporal punishment of any kind is rare. The chain, and a sort of stocks, made of the pinang tree, are adopted from us; the word pasong, now commonly used to denote the latter, originally signifying and being still frequently applied to confinement in general. A kind of cage made use of in the country is probably their own invention. "How do you secure a prisoner (a man was asked) without employing a chain or our stocks?" "We pen him up," said he, "as we would a bear!" The cage is made of bamboos laid horizontally in a square, piled alternately, secured by timbers at the corners, and strongly covered in at top. To lead a runaway they fasten a rattan round his neck, and, passing it through a bamboo somewhat longer than his arms, they bring his hands together and make them fast to the bamboo, in a state rather of constraint than of pain, which I believe never is wantonly or unnecessarily inflicted. If the offender is of a desperate character they bind him hands and feet and sling him on a pole. When they would convey a person from accident or otherwise unable to walk they make a palanquin by splitting a large bamboo near the middle of its length, where they contrive to keep it open so that the cavity forms a bed, the ends being preserved whole, to rest upon their shoulders. The custom of exacting the bangun for murder seems only designed with a view of making a compensation to the injured family, and not of punishing the offender. The word signifies awaking or raising up, and the deceased is supposed to be replaced, or raised again to his family, in the payment of a sum proportioned to his rank, or equivalent to his or her personal value. The price of a female slave is generally more than that of a male, and therefore, I heard a chief say, is the bangun of a woman more than that of a man. It is upon this principle that their laws take no cognizance of the distinction between a wilful murder and what we term manslaughter. The loss is the same to the family, and therefore the compensations are alike. A dupati of Laye, in an ill hour, stepped unwarily across the mouth of a cannon at the instant it was fired off for a salute, and was killed by the explosion, upon which his relations immediately sued the sergeant of the country-guard, who applied the match, for the recovery of the bangun; but they were cast, and upon these grounds: that the dupati was instrumental in his own death, and that the Company's servants, being amenable to other laws for their crimes, were not, by established custom, subject to the bangun or other penalties inflicted by the native chiefs, for accidents resulting from the execution of their duty. The tippong bumi, expiation, or purification of the earth from the stain it has received, was however gratuitously paid. No plea was set up that the action was unpremeditated, and the event chance-medley. The introduction of this custom is beyond the extent of Sumatran tradition, and has no connexion with, or dependence on, Mahometanism, being established amongst the most inland people from time immemorial. In early ages it was by no means confined to that part of the world. The bangun is perfectly the same as the compensation for murder in the rude institutions of our Saxon ancestors and other northern nations. It is the eric of Ireland, and the apoinon of the Greeks. In the compartments of the shield of Achilles Homer describes the adjudgment of a fine for homicide. It would seem then to be a natural step in the advances from anarchy to settled government, and that it can only take place in such societies as have already a strong idea of the value of personal property, who esteem its possession of the next importance to that of life, and place it in competition with the strongest passion that seizes the human soul. The compensation is so regularly established among the Sumatrans that any other satisfaction is seldom demanded. In the first heat of resentment retaliation is sometimes attempted, but the spirit soon evaporates, and application is usually made, upon the immediate discovery of the fact, to the chiefs of the country for the exertion of their influence to oblige the criminal to pay the bangun. His death is then not thought of unless he is unable, and his family unwilling, to raise the established sum. Instances, it is true, occur in which the prosecutor, knowing the European law in such case, will, from motives of revenge, urge to the Resident the propriety of executing the offender rather than receive the money; but if the latter is ready to pay it it is contrary to their laws to proceed further. The degree of satisfaction that attends the payment of the bangun is generally considered as absolute to the parties concerned; they receive it as full compensation, and pretend to no farther claim upon the murderer and his family. Slight provocations however have been sometimes known to renew the feud, and there are not wanting instances of a son's revenging his father's murder and willingly refunding the bangun. When in an affray there happen to be several persons killed on both sides, the business of justice is only to state the reciprocal losses, in the form of an account current, and order the balance to be discharged, if the numbers be unequal. The following is a relation of the circumstances of one of these bloody feuds, which happened whilst I was in the island, but which become every year more rare where the influence of our government extends. ACCOUNT OF A FEUD. Raddin Siban was the head of a tribe in the district of Manna, of which Pangeran Raja-Kalippah was the official chief; though by the customs of the country he had no right of sovereignty over him. The pangeran's not allowing him what he thought an adequate share of fines, and other advantages annexed to his rank, was the foundation of a jealousy and ill will between them, which an event that happened a few years since raised to the highest pitch of family feud. Lessut, a younger brother of the pangeran, had a wife who was very handsome, and whom Raddin Siban had endeavoured to procure, whilst a virgin, for HIS younger brother, who was in love with her: but the pangeran had contrived to circumvent him, and obtained the girl for Lessut. However it seems the lady herself had conceived a violent liking for the brother of Raddin Siban, who found means to enjoy her after she was married, or was violently suspected so to have done. The consequence was that Lessut killed him to revenge the dishonour of his bed. Upon this the families were presently up in arms, but the English Resident interfering preserved the peace of the country, and settled the affair agreeably to the customs of the place by bangun and fine. But this did not prove sufficient to extinguish the fury which raged in the hearts of Raddin Siban's family, whose relation was murdered. It only served to delay the revenge until a proper opportunity offered of gratifying it. The people of the country being called together on a particular occasion, the two inimical families were assembled, at the same time, in Manna bazaar. Two younger brothers (they had been five in all) of Raddin Siban, going to the cockpit, saw Raja Muda the next brother of the pangeran, and Lessut his younger brother, in the open part of a house which they passed. They quickly returned, drew their krises, and attacked the pangeran's brothers, calling to them, if they were men, to defend themselves. The challenge was instantly accepted, Lessut, the unfortunate husband, fell; but the aggressors were both killed by Raja Muda, who was himself much wounded. The affair was almost over before the scuffle was perceived. The bodies were lying on the ground, and Raja Muda was supporting himself against a tree which stood near the spot, when Raddin Siban, who was in a house on the opposite side of the bazaar at the time the affray happened, being made acquainted with the circumstances, came over the way, with his lance in his hand. He passed on the contrary side of the tree, and did not see Raja Muda, but began to stab with his weapon the dead body of Lessut, in excess of rage, on seeing the bloody remains of his two brothers. Just then, Raja Muda, who was half dead, but had his kris in his hand, still unseen by Raddin Siban, crawled a step or two and thrust the weapon into his side, saying "Matti kau"--"die thou!" Raddin Siban spoke not a word, but put his hand on the wound and walked across to the house from whence he came, at the door of which he dropped down and expired. Such was the catastrophe. Raja Muda survived his wounds, but being much deformed by them lives a melancholy example of the effects of these barbarous feuds. PROOF OF THEFT. In cases of theft the swearing a robbery against a person suspected is of no effect, and justly, for were it otherwise nothing would be more common than the prosecution of innocent persons. The proper proofs are either seizure of the person in the fact before witnesses, or discovery of the goods stolen in possession of one who can give no satisfactory account how he came by them. As it frequently happens that a man finds part only of what he had lost it remains with him, when the robbery is proved, to ascertain the whole amount, by oath, which in that point is held sufficient. LAW RESPECTING DEBTS. The law which renders all the members of a family reciprocally bound for the security of each others' debts forms a strong connexion among them, and occasions the elder branches to be particularly watchful of the conduct of those for whose imprudence they must be answerable. When a debtor is unable to pay what he owes, and has no relation or friends capable of doing it for him, or when the children of a deceased person do not find property enough to discharge the debts of their parent, they are forced to the state which is called mengiring, which simply means to follow or be dependent on, but here implies the becoming a species of bond-slaves to the creditor, who allows them subsistence and clothing but does not appropriate the produce of their labour to the diminution of their debt. Their condition is better than that of pure slavery in this, that the creditor cannot strike them, and they can change their masters by prevailing on another person to pay their debt and accept of their labour on the same terms. Of course they may obtain their liberty if they can by any means procure a sum equal to their debt; whereas a slave, though possessing ever so large property, has not the right of purchasing his liberty. If however the creditor shall demand formally the amount of his debt from a person mengiring, at three several times, allowing a certain number of days between each demand, and the latter is not able to persuade anyone to redeem him, he becomes, by the custom of the country, a pure slave, upon the creditor's giving notice to the chief of the transaction. This is the resource he has against the laziness or untoward behaviour of his debtor, who might otherwise, in the state of mengiring, be only a burden to him. If the children of a deceased debtor are too young to be of service the charge of their maintenance is added to the debt. This opens a door for many iniquitous practices, and it is in the rigorous and frequently perverted exertion of these rights which a creditor has over his debtor that the chiefs are enabled to oppress the lower class of people, and from which abuses the English Residents find it necessary to be the most watchful to restrain them. In some cases one half of the produce of the labour is applied to the reduction of the debt, and this situation of the insolvent debtor is termed be-blah. Meranggau is the condition of a married woman who remains as a pledge for a debt in the house of the creditor of her husband. If any attempt should be made upon her person the proof of it annuls the debt; but should she bring an accusation of that nature, and be unable to prove it to the satisfaction of the court, and the man takes an oath in support of his innocence, the debt must be immediately paid by the family, or the woman be disposed of as a slave. When a man of one district or country has a debt owing to him from the inhabitant of a neighbouring country, of which he cannot recover payment, an usual resource is to seize on one or more of his children and carry them off; which they call andak. The daughter of a Rejang dupati was carried off in this manner by the Labun people. Not hearing for some time from her father, she sent him cuttings of her hair and nails, by which she intimated a resolution of destroying herself if not soon released. SLAVERY. The right of slavery is established in Sumatra, as it is throughout the East, and has been all over the world; yet but few instances occur of the country people actually having slaves; though they are common enough in the Malayan, or sea-port towns. Their domestics and labourers are either dependant relations, or the orang mengiring above described, who are usually called debtors, but should be distinguished by the term of insolvent debtors. The simple manners of the people require that their servants should live, in a great measure, on a footing of equality with the rest of the family, which is inconsistent with the authority necessary to be maintained over slaves who have no principle to restrain them but that of personal fear,* and know that their civil condition cannot be altered for the worse. (*Footnote. I do not mean to assert that all men in the condition of slaves are devoid of principle: I have experienced the contrary, and found in them affection and strict honesty: but that there does not result from their situation as slaves any principle of moral rectitude; whereas every other condition of society has annexed to it ideas of duty and mutual obligation arising from a sense of general utility. That sublime species of morality derived from the injunctions of religion it is almost universally their fate to be likewise strangers to, because slavery is found inconsistent with the spirit of the gospel, not merely as inculcating philanthropy but inspiring a principle of equality amongst mankind.) There is this advantage also, that when a debtor absconds they have recourse to his relations for the amount of his debt, who, if unable to pay it, must mengiring in his room; whereas when a slave makes his escape the law can give no redress, and his value is lost to the owner. These people moreover are from habit backward to strike, and the state of slavery unhappily requires the frequent infliction of punishment in that mode. A slave cannot possess independently any property; yet it rarely happens that a master is found mean and sordid enough to despoil them of the fruits of their industry; and their liberty is generally granted them when in a condition to purchase it, though they cannot demand it of right. It is nothing uncommon for those belonging to the Europeans to possess slaves of their own, and to acquire considerable substance. Their condition is here for the most part less unhappy than that of persons in other situations of life. I am far from wishing to diminish the horror that should ever accompany the general idea of a state which, whilst it degrades the species, I am convinced is not necessary among mankind; but I cannot help remarking, as an extraordinary fact, that if there is one class of people eminently happy above all others upon earth it is the body of Caffres, or negro slaves belonging to the India Company at Bencoolen. They are well clothed and fed, and supplied with a proper allowance of liquor; their work is by no means severe; the persons appointed as their immediate overseers are chosen for their merit from amongst themselves; they have no occasion of care or anxiety for the past or future, and are naturally of a lively and open temper. The contemplation of the effects which such advantages produce must afford the highest gratification to a benevolent mind. They are usually seen laughing or singing whilst at work, and the intervals allowed them are mostly employed in dancing to their rude instrumental music, which frequently begins at sunset and ceases only with the daylight that recalls them to their labour. Since they were first carried thither, from different parts of Africa and Madagascar, to the present hour, not so much as the rumour of disturbance or discontent has ever been known to proceed from them. They hold the natives of the island in contempt, have a degree of antipathy towards them, and enjoy any mischief they can do them; and these in their turn regard the Caffres as devils half humanized. The practice said to prevail elsewhere of men selling themselves for slaves is repugnant to the customs of the Sumatrans, as it seems to reason. It is an absurdity to barter anything valuable, much more civil existence, for a sum which, by the very act of receiving, becomes again the property of the buyer. Yet if a man runs in debt without a prospect of paying, he does virtually the same thing, and this in cases of distress is not uncommon, in order to relieve, perhaps, a beloved wife, or favourite child, from similar bondage. A man has even been known to apply in confidence to a friend to sell him to a third person, concealing from the purchaser the nature of the transaction till the money was appropriated. Ignorant stragglers are often picked up in the country by lawless knaves in power and sold beyond the hills. These have sometimes procured their liberty again, and prosecuting their kidnappers have recovered large damages. In the district of Allas a custom prevails by which, if a man has been sold to the hill people, however unfairly, he is restricted on his return from associating with his countrymen as their equal unless he brings with him a sum of money and pays a fine for his re-enfranchisement to his kalippah or chief. This regulation has taken its rise from an idea of contamination among the people, and from art and avarice among the chiefs. CHAPTER 14. MODES OF MARRIAGE, AND CUSTOMS RELATIVE THERETO. POLYGAMY. FESTIVALS. GAMES. COCK-FIGHTING. USE AND EFFECTS OF OPIUM. MOTIVES FOR ALTERING SOME OF THEIR MARRIAGE CUSTOMS. By much the greater number of the legal disputes among these people have their source in the intricacy attending their marriage contracts. In most uncivilized countries these matters are very simple, the dictates of nature being obeyed, or the calls of appetite satisfied, with little ceremony or form of convention; but with the Sumatrans the difficulties, both precedent and subsequent, are increased to a degree unknown even in the most refined states. To remedy these inconveniences, which might be supposed to deter men from engaging in marriage, was the view of the Resident of Laye, before mentioned, who prevailed upon them to simplify their engagements, as the means of preventing litigation between families, and of increasing the population of the country. How far his liberal views will be answered by having thus influenced the people to change their customs, whether they will not soon relapse into the ancient track; and whether in fact the cause that he supposed did actually contribute to retard population, I shall not pretend to determine; but as the last is a point on which a difference of opinion prevails I shall take the liberty of quoting here the sentiments of another servant of the Company (the late Mr. John Crisp) who possessed an understanding highly enlightened. REASONS AGAINST THIS ALTERATION. This part of the island is in a low state of population, but it is an error to ascribe this to the mode of obtaining wives by purchase. The circumstance of children constituting part of the property of the parents proves a most powerful incentive to matrimony, and there is not perhaps any country on the face of the earth where marriage is more general than here, instances of persons of either sex passing their lives in a state of celibacy being extremely rare. The necessity of purchasing does not prove such an obstacle to matrimony as is supposed. Was it indeed true that every man was obliged to remain single till he had accumulated, from the produce of his pepper-garden, a sum adequate to the purchase of a wife, married pairs would truly be scarce. But the people have other resources; there are few families who are not in possession of some small substance; they breed goats and buffaloes, and in general keep in reserve some small sum for particular purposes. The purchase-money of the daughter serves also to provide wives for the sons. Certain it is that the fathers are rarely at a loss for money to procure them wives so soon as they become marriageable. In the districts under my charge are about eight thousand inhabitants, among whom I do not conceive it would be possible to find ten instances of men of the age of thirty years unmarried. We must then seek for other causes of the paucity of inhabitants, and indeed they are sufficiently obvious; among these we may reckon that the women are by nature unprolific, and cease gestation at an early age; that, almost totally unskilled in the medical art, numbers fall victims to the endemic diseases of a climate nearly as fatal to its indigenous inhabitants as to the strangers who settle among them: to which we may add that the indolence and inactivity of the natives tend to relax and enervate the bodily frame, and to abridge the natural period of their lives. ... MODES OF MARRIAGE. The modes of marriage, according to the original institutions of these people, are by jujur, by ambel anak, or by semando. The jujur is a certain sum of money given by one man to another as a consideration for the person of his daughter, whose situation, in this case, differs not much from that of a slave to the man she marries, and to his family. His absolute property in her depends however upon some nice circumstances. Beside the batang jujur (or main sum) there are certain appendages or branches, one of which, the tali kulo, of five dollars, is usually, from motives of delicacy or friendship, left unpaid, and so long as that is the case a relationship is understood to subsist between the two families, and the parents of the woman have a right to interfere on occasions of ill treatment: the husband is also liable to be fined for wounding her, with other limitations of absolute right. When that sum is finally paid, which seldom happens but in cases of violent quarrel, the tali kulo (tie of relationship) is said to be putus (broken), and the woman becomes to all intents the slave of her lord.* (*Footnote. I cannot omit to remark here that, however apposite the word tali, which in Malayan signifies a cord, may be to the subject of the marriage tie, there is very strong evidence of the term, as applied to this ceremony, having been adopted from the customs of the Hindu inhabitants of the peninsula of India, in whose language it has a different meaning. Among others who have described their rites is M. Sonnerat. In speaking of the mode of marriage called pariam, which, like the jujur, n'est autre chose qu'un achat que le mari fait de sa femme, he says, le mari doit aussi fournir le tali, petit joyau d'or, qu'il attache avec un cordon au col de la fille; c'est la derniere ceremonie; elle donne la sanction au marriage, qui ne peut plus etre rompu des que le tali est attache. Voyage aux Indes etc. tome 1 page 70. The reader will also find the Sumatran mode of marriage by ambel anak, or adoption, exactly described at page 72. An engraving of the tali is given by P. Paolino, Systema Brahmanicum tab. 22. This resemblance is not confined to the rites of marriage, for it is remarked by Sir W. Jones that, "among the laws of the Sumatrans two positive rules concerning sureties and interest appear to be taken word for word from the Indian legislators." Asiatic Researches Volume 3 page 9.) She has then no title to claim a divorce in any predicament; and he may sell her, making only the first offer to her relations. The other appendages as already mentioned are the tulis tanggil (the meaning of which I cannot satisfactorily ascertain, this and many other of the legal terms being in the Rejang or the Passummah and not the Malayan language) and the upah daun kodo, which is a consideration for the expense of the marriage feast, paid to the girl's parent, who provides it. But sometimes it is deposited at the wedding, when a distribution is made of it amongst the old people present. The words allude to the leaf in which the rice is served up. These additional sums are seldom paid or claimed before the principal is defrayed, of which a large proportion, as fifty, eighty, and sometimes a hundred and four dollars, is laid down at the time of marriage, or in the first visit (after the parties are determined in their regards) made by the father of the young man, or the bujang himself, to the father of the woman. Upon opening his design this money is tendered as a present, and the other's acceptance of it is a token that he is inclined to forward the match. It lies often in his hands three, six, or twelve months before the marriage is consummated. He sometimes sends for more, and is seldom refused. Until at least fifty dollars are thus deposited the man cannot take his wife home; but so long as the matter continues dalam rasa-an (under consideration) it would be deemed scandalous in the father to listen to any other proposals. When there is a difficulty in producing the necessary sum it is not uncommon to resort to an expedient termed mengiring jujur, that is, to continue a debtor with the family until he can raise money sufficient to redeem himself; and after this long credit is usually given for the remainder. Years often elapse, if the families continue on good terms, without the debt being demanded, particularly when a hundred and four dollars have been paid, unless distress obliges them to it. Sometimes it remains unadjusted to the second and third generation, and it is not uncommon to see a man suing for the jujur of the sister of his grandfather. These debts constitute in fact the chief part of their substance; and a person is esteemed rich who has several of them due to him for his daughters, sisters, aunts, and great aunts. Debts of this nature are looked upon as sacred, and are scarcely ever lost. In Passummah, if the race of a man is extinct, and some of these remain unpaid, the dusun or village to which the family belonged must make it good to the creditor; but this is not insisted upon amongst the Rejangs. In lieu of paying the jujur a barter transaction, called libei, sometimes takes place, where one gadis (virgin) is given in exchange for another; and it is not unusual to borrow a girl for this purpose from a friend or relation, the borrower binding himself to replace her or pay her jujur when required, A man who has a son and daughter gives the latter in exchange for a wife to the former. The person who receives her disposes of her as his own child or marries her himself. A brother will give his sister in exchange for a wife, or, in default of such, procure a cousin for the purpose. If the girl given in exchange be under age a certain allowance per annum is made till she becomes marriageable. Beguppok is a mode of marriage differing a little from the common jujur, and probably only taking place where a parent wants to get off a child labouring under some infirmity or defect. A certain sum is in this case fixed below the usual custom, which, when paid, is in full for her value, without any appendages. In other cases likewise the jujur is sometimes lessened and sometimes increased by mutual agreement; but on trials it is always estimated at a hundred and twenty dollars. If a wife dies soon after marriage, or at any time without children, the full jujur cannot be claimed; it is reduced to eighty dollars; but should more than that have been laid down in the interim there is no refunding. The jujur of a widow, which is generally eighty dollars, without appendages, is again reduced upon a third marriage, allowances being made for dilapidation. A widow being with child cannot marry again till she is delivered, without incurring a penalty. In divorces it is the same. If there be no appearance of pregnancy she must yet abstain from making another choice during the period of three months and ten days. When the relations and friends of the man go in form to the parents of the girl to settle the terms of the marriage they pay at that time the adat besasala, or earnest, of six dollars generally; and these kill a goat or a few fowls to entertain them. It is usually some space of time (except in cases of telari gadis or elopement) after the payment of the besasala, before the wedding takes place; but, when the father has received that, he cannot give his daughter to any other person without incurring a fine, which the young lady sometimes renders him liable to; for whilst the old folk are planning a match by patutan, or regular agreement between families, it frequently happens that miss disappears with a more favoured swain and secures a match of her own choice. The practice styled telari gadis is not the least common way of determining a marriage, and from a spirit of indulgence and humanity, which few codes can boast, has the sanction of the laws. The father has only the power left of dictating the mode of marriage, but cannot take his daughter away if the lover is willing to comply with the custom in such cases. The girl must be lodged, unviolated, in the house of some respectable family till the relations are advised of the enlevement and settle the terms. If however upon immediate pursuit they are overtaken on the road, she may be forced back, but not after she has taken sanctuary. By the Mosaic law, if a man left a widow without children his brother was to marry her. Among the Sumatrans, with or without children, the brother, or nearest male relation of the deceased, unmarried (the father excepted), takes the widow. This is practised both by Malays and country people. The brother, in taking the widow to himself, becomes answerable for what may remain due of her purchase money, and in every respect represents the deceased. This is phrased ganti tikar bantal'nia--supplying his place on his mat and pillow. CHASTITY OF THE WOMEN. Chastity prevails more perhaps among these than any other people. It is so materially the interest of the parents to preserve the virtue of their daughters unsullied, as they constitute the chief of their substance, that they are particularly watchful in this respect. But as marriages in general do not take place so early as the forwardness of nature in that climate would admit, it will sometimes happen, notwithstanding their precaution, that a young woman, not choosing to wait her father's pleasure, tastes the fruit by stealth. When this is discovered he can oblige the man to marry her, and pay the jujur; or, if he chooses to keep his daughter, the seducer must make good the difference he has occasioned in her value, and also pay the fine, called tippong bumi, for removing the stain from the earth. Prostitution for hire is I think unknown in the country, and confined to the more polite bazaars, where there is usually a concourse of sailors and others who have no honest settlement of their own, and whom, therefore, it is impossible to restrain from promiscuous concubinage. At these places vice generally reigns in a degree proportioned to the number and variety of people of different nations who inhabit them or occasionally resort thither. From the scenes which these sea-ports present travellers too commonly form their judgment, and imprudently take upon them to draw, for the information of the world, a picture of the manners of a people. The different species of horrid and disgustful crimes, which are emphatically denominated, against nature, are unknown on Sumatra; nor have any of their languages terms to express such ideas. INCEST. Incest, or the intermarriage of persons within a certain degree of consanguinity, which is, perhaps (at least after the first degree), rather an offence against the institutions of human prudence than a natural crime, is forbidden by their customs and punishable by fine: yet the guilt is often expiated by a ceremony, and the marriages in many instances confirmed. ADULTERY. Adultery is punishable by fine; but the crime is rare, and suits on the subject still less frequent. The husband, it is probable, either conceals his shame or revenges it with his own hand. DIVORCES. If a man would divorce a wife he has married by jujur he may claim back what he has paid in part, less twenty-five dollars, the adat charo, for the damage he has done her; but if he has paid the jujur in full the relations may choose whether they will receive her or not; if not he may sell her. If a man has paid part of a jujur but cannot raise the remainder, though repeatedly dunned for it, the parents of the girl may obtain a divorce; but if it is not with the husband's concurrence they lose the advantage of the charo, and must refund all they have received. A woman married by jujur must bring with her effects to the amount of ten dollars, or, if not, it is deducted from the sum; if she brings more the husband is accountable for the difference. The original ceremony of divorce consists in cutting a rattan­cane in two, in presence of the parties, their relations, and the chiefs of the country. SECOND MODE OF MARRIAGE. In the mode of marriage by ambel anak the father of a virgin makes choice of some young man for her husband, generally from an inferior family, which renounces all further right to, or interest in, him, and he is taken into the house of his father-in-law, who kills a buffalo on the occasion, and receives twenty dollars from the son's relations. After this the buruk baik'nia (the good and bad of him) is vested in the wife's family. If he murders or robs they pay the bangun, or the fine. If he is murdered they receive the bangun. They are liable to any debts he may contract after marriage; those prior to it remaining with his parents. He lives in the family in a state between that of a son and a debtor. He partakes as a son of what the house affords, but has no property in himself. His rice plantation, the produce of his pepper-garden, with everything that he can gain or earn, belong to the family. He is liable to be divorced at their pleasure, and, though he has children, must leave all, and return naked as he came. The family sometimes indulge him with leave to remove to a house of his own, and take his wife with him; but he, his children, and effects are still their property. If he has not daughters by the marriage he may redeem himself and wife by paying her jujur; but if there are daughters before they become emancipated the difficulty is enhanced, because the family are likewise entitled to their value. It is common however when they are upon good terms to release him on the payment of one jujur, or at most with the addition of an adat of fifty dollars. With this addition he may insist upon a release whilst his daughters are not marriageable. If the family have paid any debts for him he must also make them good. Should he contract more than they approve of, and they fear his adding to them, they procure a divorce, and send him back to his parents; but must pay his debts to that time. If he is a notorious spendthrift they outlaw him by means of a writ presented to the magistrate. These are inscribed on slips of bamboo with a sharp instrument, and I have several of them in my possession. They must banish him from home, and if they receive him again, or assist him with the smallest sum, they are liable to all his debts. On the prodigal son's return, and assurance of amendment, this writ may be redeemed on payment of five dollars to the proattins, and satisfying the creditors. This kind of marriage is productive of much confusion, for till the time it takes place the young man belongs to one dusun and family, and afterwards to another, and as they have no records to refer to there is great uncertainty in settling the time when debts were contracted, and the like. Sometimes the redemption of the family and their return to the former dusun take place in the second or third generation; and in many cases it is doubtful whether they ever took place or not; the two parties contradicting each other, and perhaps no evidence to refer to. Hence arise various and intricate bechars. THIRD, OR MALAYAN MODE OF MARRIAGE. Besides the modes of marriage above described, a third form, called semando, has been adopted from the Malays, and thence termed semando malayo or mardika (free). This marriage is a regular treaty between the parties, on the footing of equality. The adat paid to the girl's friends has usually been twelve dollars. The agreement stipulates that all effects, gains, or earnings are to be equally the property of both, and in case of divorce by mutual consent the stock, debts, and credits are to be equally divided. If the man only insists on the divorce he gives the woman her half of the effects, and loses the twelve dollars he has paid. If the woman only claims the divorce she forfeits her right to the proportion of the effects, but is entitled to keep her tikar, bantal, and dandan (paraphernalia), and her relations are liable to pay back the twelve dollars; but it is seldom demanded. This mode, doubtless the most conformable to our ideas of conjugal right and felicity, is that which the chiefs of the Rejang country have formally consented to establish throughout their jurisdiction, and to their orders the influence of the Malayan priests will contribute to give efficacy. In the ambel anak marriage, according to the institutions of Passummah, when the father resolves to dismiss the husband of his daughter and send him back to his dusun the sum for which he can redeem his wife and family is a hundred dollars: and if he can raise that, and the woman is willing to go with him, the father cannot refuse them; and now the affair is changed into a kulo marriage; the man returns to his former tungguan (settlement or family) and becomes of more consequence in society. These people are no strangers to that sentiment which we call a regard to family. There are some families among them more esteemed than others, though not graced with any title or employment in the state. The origin of this distinction it is difficult to trace; but it may have arisen from a succession of men of abilities, or from the reputation for wisdom or valour of some ancestor. Everyone has a regard to his race; and the probability of its being extinct is esteemed a great unhappiness. This is what they call tungguan putus, and the expression is used by the lowest member of the community. To have a wife, a family, collateral relations, and a settled place of residence is to have a tungguan, and this they are anxious to support and perpetuate. It is with this view that, when a single female only remains of a family, they marry her by ambel anak; in which mode the husband's consequence is lost in the wife's, and in her children the tungguan of her father is continued. They find her a husband that will menegga tungguan, or, as it is expressed amongst the Rejangs menegga rumah, set up the house again. The semando marriage is little known in Passummah. I recollect that a pangeran of Manna, having lost a son by a marriage of this kind with a Malay woman, she refused upon the father's death to let the boy succeed to his dignities, and at the same time become answerable for his debts, and carried him with her from the country; which was productive of much confusion. The regulations there in respect to incontinence have much severity, and fall particularly hard on the girl's father, who not only has his daughter spoiled but must also pay largely for her frailty. To the northward the offence is not punished with so much rigour, yet the instances are there said to be rarer, and marriage is more usually the consequence. In other respects the customs of Passummah and Rejang are the same in these matters. RITES OF MARRIAGE. The rites of marriage, nikah (from the Arabian), consist simply in joining the hands of the parties and pronouncing them man and wife, without much ceremony excepting the entertainment which is given on the occasion. This is performed by one of the fathers or the chief of the dusun, according to the original customs of the country; but where Mahometanism has found its way, a priest or imam executes the business. COURTSHIP. But little apparent courtship precedes their marriages. Their manners do not admit of it, the bujang and gadis (youth of each sex) being carefully kept asunder, and the latter seldom trusted from under the wing of their mothers. Besides, courtship with us includes the idea of humble entreaty on the man's side, and favour and condescension on the part of the woman, who bestows person and property for love. The Sumatran on the contrary, when he fixes his choice and pays all that he is worth for the object of it, may naturally consider the obligation on his side. But still they are not without gallantry. They preserve a degree of delicacy and respect towards the sex, which might justify their retorting on many of the polished nations of antiquity the epithet of barbarians. The opportunities which the young people have of seeing and conversing with each other are at the bimbangs, or public festivals, held at the balei, or town hall of the dusun. On these occasions the unmarried people meet together and dance and sing in company. It may be supposed that the young ladies cannot be long without their particular admirers. The men, when determined in their regards, generally employ an old woman as their agent, by whom they make known their sentiments and send presents to the female of their choice. The parents then interfere and, the preliminaries being settled, a bimbang takes place. MARRIAGE FESTIVALS. At these festivals a goat, a buffalo, or several, according to the rank of the parties, are killed, to entertain not only the relations and invited guests but all the inhabitants of the neighbouring country who choose to repair to them. The greater the concourse the more is the credit of the host, who is generally on these occasions the father of the girl; but the different branches of the family, and frequently all the people of the dusun, contribute a quota of rice. ORDER OBSERVED. The young women proceed in a body to the upper end of the balei where there is a part divided off for them by a curtain. The floor is spread with their best mats, and the sides and ceiling of that extremity of the building are hung with pieces of chintz, palampores, and the like. They do not always make their appearance before dinner; that time, with part of the afternoon, previous to a second or third meal, being appropriated to cock-fighting and other diversions peculiar to the men. Whilst the young are thus employed the old men consult together upon any affair that may be at the time in agitation; such as repairing a public building or making reprisals upon the cattle of a neighbouring people. The bimbangs are often given on occasions of business only, and, as they are apt to be productive of cabals, the Europeans require that they shall not be held without their knowledge and approbation. To give authority to their contracts and other deeds, whether of a public or private nature, they always make one of these feasts. Writings, say they, may be altered or counterfeited, but the memory of what is transacted and concluded in the presence of a thousand witnesses must remain sacred. Sometimes, in token of the final determination of an affair, they cut a notch in a post, before the chiefs, which they call taka kayu. AMUSEMENT OF DANCING. In the evening their softer amusements take place, of which the dances are the principal. These are performed either singly or by two women, two men, or with both mixed. Their motions and attitudes are usually slow, and too much forced to be graceful; approaching often to the lascivious, and not unfrequently the ludicrous. This is I believe the general opinion formed of them by Europeans, but it may be the effect of prejudice. Certain I am that our usual dances are in their judgment to the full as ridiculous. The minuets they compare to the fighting of two game-cocks, alternately approaching and receding. Our country dances they esteem too violent and confused, without showing grace or agility. The stage dances I have not a doubt would please them. Part of the female dress, called the salendang, which is usually of silk with a gold head, is tied round the waist, and the ends of this they at times extend behind them with their hands. They bend forward as they dance, and usually carry a fan, which they close and strike smartly against their elbows at particular cadences. They keep time well, and the partners preserve a consistency with each other though the figure and steps are ad libitum. A brisker movement is sometimes adopted which proves more conformable to the taste of the English spectators. SINGING. Dancing is not the only amusement on these occasions. A gadis sometimes rises and, leaning her face on her arm, supporting herself against a pillar, or the shoulder of one of her companions, with her back to the audience, begins a tender song. She is soon taken up and answered by one of the bujangs in company, whose greatest pretensions to gallantry and fashion are founded on an adroitness at this polite accomplishment. The uniform subject on such occasions is love, and, as the words are extempore, there are numberless degrees of merit in the composition, which is sometimes surprisingly well turned, quaint, and even witty. Professed story-tellers are sometimes introduced, who are raised on a little stage and during several hours arrest the attention of their audience by the relation of wonderful and interesting adventures. There are also characters of humour amongst them who, by buffoonery, mimicry, punning, repartee, and satire (rather of the sardonic kind) are able to keep the company in laughter at intervals during the course of a night's entertainment. The assembly seldom breaks up before daylight, and these bimbangs are often continued for several days and nights together till their stock of provisions is exhausted. The young men frequent them in order to look out for wives, and the lasses of course set themselves off to the best advantage. DRESSES. They wear their best silken dresses, of their own weaving; as many ornaments of filigree as they possess; silver rings upon their arms and legs; and earrings of a particular construction. Their hair is variously adorned with flowers and perfumed with oil of benzoin. Civet is also in repute, but more used by the men. COSMETIC USED, AND MODE OF PREPARING IT. To render their skin fine, smooth, and soft they make use of a white cosmetic called pupur. The mode of preparing it is as follows. The basis is fine rice, which is a long time steeped in water and let to ferment, during which process the water becomes of a deep red colour and highly putrid, when it is drained off, and fresh added successively until the water remains clear, and the rice subsides in the form of a fine white paste. It is then exposed to the sun to dry, and, being reduced to a powder, they mix with it ginger, the leaves of a plant called by them dilam, and by Europeans patch-leaf (Melissa lotoria, R.), which gives to it a peculiar smell, and also, as is supposed, a cooling quality. They add likewise the flowers of the jagong (maize); kayu chendana (sandalwood); and the seeds of a plant called there kapas antu (fairy-cotton), which is the Hibiscus abelmoschus, or musk seed. All these ingredients, after being moistened and well mixed together, are made up into little balls, and when they would apply the cosmetic these are diluted with a drop of water, rubbed between the hands, and then on the face, neck, and shoulders. They have an apprehension, probably well founded, that a too abundant or frequent application will, by stopping the pores of the skin, bring on a fever. It is used with good effect to remove that troublesome complaint, so well known to Europeans in India, by the name of the prickly heat; but it is not always safe for strangers thus to check the operations of nature in a warm climate. The Sumatran girls, as well as our English maidens, entertain a favourable opinion of the virtues of morning dew as a beautifier, and believe that by rubbing it to the roots of the hair it will strengthen and thicken it. With this view they take pains to catch it before sunrise in vessels as it falls. CONSUMMATION OF MARRIAGES. If a wedding is the occasion of the bimbang the couple are married, perhaps, the second or third day; but it may be two or three more ere the husband can get possession of his bride; the old matrons making it a rule to prevent him, as long as possible, and the bride herself holding it a point of honour to defend to extremity that jewel which she would yet be disappointed in preserving.* (*Footnote. It is recorded that the jealousy between the English and Dutch at Bantam arose from a preference shown to the former by the king at a festival which he gave upon obtaining a victory of this nature, which his bride had long disputed with him. For a description of a Malayan wedding, with an excellent plate representing the conclusion of the ceremony and the sleeping apartment, I beg to refer the reader to Captain Forrest's Voyage to New Guinea page 286 quarto edition. The bed-place is described at page 232 and the processional car (per­arakan) at page 241. His whole account of the domestic manners of the people of Mindanao, at the court of which he lived on terms of familiarity, will be found highly amusing.) They sit up in state at night on raised cushions, in their best clothes and trinkets. They are sometimes loaded on the occasion with all the finery of their relations, or even the whole dusun, and carefully eased of it when the ceremony is over. But this is not the case with the children of persons of rank. I remember being present at the marriage of a young woman, whose beauty would not have disgraced any country, with a son of Raddin, prince of Madura, to whom the English gave protection from the power of the Dutch after his father had fallen a sacrifice.* She was decked in unborrowed plumes. Her dress was eminently calculated to do justice to a fine person; her hair, in which consists their chief pride, was disposed with extreme grace; and an uncommon elegance and taste were displayed in the workmanship and adjustment of her ornaments. It must be confessed however that this taste is by no means general, especially amongst the country people. Simplicity, so essential to the idea, is the characteristic of a rude and quite uncivilized people, and is again adopted by men in their highest state of refinement. The Sumatrans stand removed from both these extremes. Rich and splendid articles of dress and furniture, though not often procured, are the objects of their vanity and ambition. (*Footnote. The circumstances of this disgraceful affair are preserved in a book entitled A Voyage to the East Indies in 1747 and 1748. This Raddin Tamanggung, a most intelligent and respectable man, died at Bencoolen in the year 1790. His sons possess the good qualities of their father, and are employed in the Company's service.) The bimbangs are conducted with great decorum and regularity. The old women are very attentive to the conduct of the girls, and the male relations are highly jealous of any insults that may be shown them. A lad at one of these entertainments asked another his opinion of a gadis who was then dancing. "If she was plated with gold," replied he, "I would not take her for my concubine, much less for my wife." A brother of the girl happened to be within hearing, and called him to account for the reflection thrown on his sister. Krises were drawn but the bystanders prevented mischief. The brother appeared the next day to take the law of the defamer, but the gentleman, being of the risau description, had absconded, and was not to be found. NUMBER OF WIVES. The customs of the Sumatrans permit their having as many wives by jujur as they can compass the purchase of or afford to maintain; but it is extremely rare that an instance occurs of their having more than one, and that only among a few of the chiefs. This continence they in some measure owe to their poverty. The dictates of frugality are more powerful with them than the irregular calls of appetite, and make them decline an indulgence that their law does not restrain them from. In talking of polygamy they allow it to be the privilege of the rich, but regard it as a refinement which the poor Rejangs cannot pretend to. Some young risaus have been known to take wives in different places, but the father of the first, as soon as he hears of the second marriage, procures a divorce. A man married by semando cannot take a second wife without repudiating the first for this obvious reason that two or more persons could not be equally entitled to the half of his effects. QUESTION OF POLYGAMY. Montesquieu infers that the law which permits polygamy is physically conformable to the climate of Asia. The season of female beauty precedes that of their reason, and from its prematurity soon decays. The empire of their charms is short. It is therefore natural, the president observes, that a man should leave one wife to take another: that he should seek a renovation of those charms which had withered in his possession. But are these the real circumstances of polygamy? Surely not. It implies the contemporary enjoyment of women in the same predicament; and I should consider it as a vice that has its source in the influence of a warm atmosphere upon the passions of men, which, like the cravings of other disordered appetites, make them miscalculate their wants. It is probably the same influence, on less rigid nerves, that renders their thirst of revenge so much more violent than among northern nations; but we are not therefore to pronounce murder to be physically conformable to a southern climate. Far be it from my intention however to put these passions on a level; I only mean to show that the president's reasoning proves too much. It must further be considered that the genial warmth which expands the desires of the men, and prompts a more unlimited exertion of their faculties, does not inspire their constitutions with proportionate vigour; but on the contrary renders them in this respect inferior to the inhabitants of the temperate zone; whilst it equally influences the desires of the opposite sex without being found to diminish from their capacity of enjoyment. From which I would draw this conclusion, that if nature intended that one woman only should be the companion of one man, in the colder regions of the earth it appears also intended a fortiori that the same law should be observed in the hotter; inferring nature's design, not from the desires, but from the abilities with which she has endowed mankind. Montesquieu has further suggested that the inequality in the comparative numbers of each sex born in Asia, which is represented to be greatly superior on the female side, may have a relation to the law that allows polygamy. But there is strong reason to deny the reality of this supposed excess. The Japanese account, taken from Kaempfer, which makes them to be in the proportion of twenty-two to eighteen, is very inconclusive, as the numbering of the inhabitants of a great city can furnish no proper test; and the account of births at Bantam, which states the number of girls to be ten to one boy, is not only manifestly absurd, but positively false. I can take upon me to assert that the proportion of the sexes throughout Sumatra does not sensibly differ from that ascertained in Europe; nor could I ever learn from the inhabitants of the many eastern islands whom I have conversed with that they were conscious of any disproportion in this respect. CONNEXION BETWEEN POLYGAMY AND PURCHASE OF WIVES. But from whatever source we derive polygamy its prevalence seems to be universally attended with the practice of giving a valuable consideration for the woman, instead of receiving a dowry with her. This is a natural consequence. Where each man endeavours to engross several, the demand for the commodity, as a merchant would express it, is increased, and the price of course enhanced. In Europe on the contrary, where the demand is small; whether owing to the paucity of males from continual diminution; their coldness of constitution, which suffers them rather to play with the sentimental than act from the animal passion; their corruption of manners leading them to promiscuous concubinage; or, in fine, the extravagant luxury of the times, which too often renders a family an insupportable burden--whatever may be the cause it becomes necessary, in order to counteract it and produce an additional incitement to the marriage state, that a premium be given with the females. We find in the history of the earliest ages of the world that, where a plurality of women was allowed of, by law or custom, they were obtained by money or service. The form of marriage by semando among the Malays, which admits but of one partner, requires no sum to be paid by the husband to the relations of the wife except a trifle, by way of token, or to defray the expenses of the wedding-feast. The circumstance of the rejangs confining themselves to one, and at the same time giving a price for their wives, would seem an exception to the general rule laid down; but this is an accidental and perhaps temporary restraint, arising, it may be, from the European influence, which tends to make them regular and industrious, but keeps them poor: affords the means of subsistence to all, but the opportunity of acquiring riches to few or none. In their genuine state war and plunder caused a rapid fluctuation of property; the little wealth now among them, derived mostly from the India Company's expenditure, circulates through the country in an equal stream, returning chiefly, like the water exhaled in vapours from the sea, to its original source. The custom of giving jujurs had most probably its foundation in polygamy; and the superstructure subsists, though its basis is partly mouldered away; but, being scarcely tenantable, the inhabitants are inclined to quit, and suffer it to fall to the ground. Moderation in point of women destroying their principle, the jujurs appear to be devoid of policy. Open a new spring of luxury, and polygamy, now confined to a few individuals amongst the chiefs, will spread throughout the people. Beauty will be in high request; each fair one will be sought for by many competitors; and the payment of the jujur be again esteemed a reasonable equivalent for possession. Their acknowledging the custom under the present circumstances to be a prejudicial one, so contrary to the spirit of eastern manners, which is ever marked with a blind veneration for the establishments of antiquity, contributes to strengthen considerably the opinion I have advanced. GAMING. Through every rank of the people there prevails a strong spirit of gaming, which is a vice that readily insinuates itself into minds naturally indisposed to the avocations of industry; and, being in general a sedentary occupation, is more adapted to a warm climate, where bodily exertion is in few instances considered as an amusement. DICE. OTHER MODES. Beside the common species of gambling with dice, which, from the term dadu applied to it, was evidently introduced by the Portuguese, they have several others; as the judi, a mode of playing with small shells, which are taken up by handfuls, and, being counted out by a given number at a time (generally that of the party engaged), the success is determined by the fractional number remaining, the amount of which is previously guessed at by each of the party. CHESS. They have also various games on chequered boards or other delineations, and persons of superior rank are in general versed in the game of chess, which they term main gajah, or the game of the elephant, naming the pieces as follows: king, raja; queen or vizir, mantri; bishop or elephant, gajah; knight or horse, kuda; castle, rook, or chariot, ter; and pawn or foot-soldier, bidak. For check they use the word sah; and for checkmate, mat or mati. Among these names the only one that appears to require observation as being peculiar is that for the castle or rook, which they have borrowed from the Tamul language of the peninsula of India, wherein the word ter (answering to the Sanskrit rat'ha) signifies a chariot (particularly such as are drawn in the processions of certain divinities), and not unaptly transferred to this military game to complete the constituent parts of an army. Gambling, especially with dice, is rigorously forbidden throughout the pepper districts, because it is not only the child, but the parent of idleness, and by the events of play often throws whole villages into confusion. Debts contracted on this account are declared to be void. COCK-FIGHTING. To cock-fighting they are still more passionately addicted, and it is indulged to them under certain regulations. Where they are perfectly independent their propensity to it is so great that it resembles rather a serious occupation than a sport. You seldom meet a man travelling in the country without a cock under his arm, and sometimes fifty persons in a company when there is a bimbang in one of the neighbouring villages. A country-man coming down, on any occasion, to the bazaar or settlement at the mouth of the river, if he boasts the least degree of spirit must not be unprovided with this token of it. They often game high at their meetings; particularly when a superstitious faith in the invincibility of their bird has been strengthened by past success. A hundred Spanish dollars is no very uncommon risk, and instances have occurred of a father's staking his children or wife, and a son his mother or sisters, on the issue of a battle, when a run of ill luck has stripped them of property and rendered them desperate. Quarrels, attended with dreadful consequences, have often arisen on these occasions. RULES OF COCKING. By their customs there are four umpires appointed to determine on all disputed points in the course of the battles; and from their decision there lies no appeal except the Gothic appeal to the sword. A person who loses and has not the ability to pay is immediately proscribed, departs with disgrace, and is never again suffered to appear at the galan­gang. This cannot with propriety be translated a cockpit, as it is generally a spot on the level ground, or a stage erected, and covered in. It is inclosed with a railing which keeps off the spectators; none but the handlers and heelers being admitted withinside. A man who has a high opinion of and regard for his cock will not fight him under a certain number of dollars, which he places in order on the floor: his poorer adversary is perhaps unable to deposit above one half: the standers-by make up the sum, and receive their dividends in proportion if successful. A father at his deathbed has been known to desire his son to take the first opportunity of matching a certain cock for a sum equal to his whole property, under a blind conviction of its being betuah, or invulnerable. MATCHES. Cocks of the same colour are never matched but a grey against a pile, a yellow against a red, or the like. This might have been originally designed to prevent disputes or knavish impositions. The Malay breed of cocks is much esteemed by connoisseurs who have had an opportunity of trying them. Great pains is taken in the rearing and feeding; they are frequently handled and accustomed to spar in public, in order to prevent any shyness. Contrary to our laws, the owner is allowed to take up and handle his cock during the battle to clear his eye of a feather or his mouth of blood. When a cock is killed, or runs, the other must have sufficient spirit and vigour left to peck at him three times, on his being held to him for that purpose, or it becomes a drawn battle; and sometimes an experienced cocker will place the head of his vanquished bird in such an uncouth posture as to terrify the other and render him unable to give this proof of victory. The cocks are never trimmed, but matched in full feather. The artificial spur used in Sumatra resembles in shape the blade of a scimitar, and proves a more destructive weapon than the European spur. It has no socket but is tied to the leg, and in the position of it the nicety of the match is regulated. As in horse-racing weight is proportioned to inches, so in cocking a bird of superior weight and size is brought to an equality with his adversary by fixing the steel spur so many scales of the leg above the natural spur, and thus obliging him to fight with a degree of disadvantage. It rarely happens that both cocks survive the combat. In the northern parts of the island, where gold-dust is the common medium of gambling, as well as of trade, so much is accidentally dropped in weighing and delivering that at some cock-pits, where the resort of people is great, the sweepings are said, probably with exaggeration, to be worth upwards of a thousand dollars per annum to the owner of the ground; beside his profit of two fanams (five pence) for each battle. QUAIL-FIGHTING. In some places they match quails, in the manner of cocks. These fight with great inveteracy, and endeavour to seize each other by the tongue. The Achinese bring also into combat the dial-bird (murei) which resembles a small magpie, but has an agreeable though imperfect note. They sometimes engage one another on the wing, and drop to the ground in the struggle. FENCING. They have other diversions of a more innocent nature. Matches of fencing, or a species of tournament, are exhibited on particular days; as at the breaking up of their annual fast, or month of ramadan, called there the puasa. On these occasions they practise strange attitudes, with violent contortions of the body, and often work themselves up to a degree of frenzy, when the old men step in and carry them off. These exercises in some circumstances resemble the idea which the ancients have given us of the pyrrhic or war dance; the combatants moving at a distance from each other in cadence, and making many turns and springs unnecessary in the representation of a real combat. This entertainment is more common among the Malays than in the country. The chief weapons of offence used by these people are the kujur or lance and the kris. This last is properly Malayan, but in all parts of the island they have a weapon equivalent, though in general less curious in its structure, wanting that waving in the blade for which the kris is remarkable, and approaching nearer to daggers or knives. Among their exercises we never observe jumping or running. They smile at the Europeans, who in their excursions take so many unnecessary leaps. The custom of going barefoot may be a principal impediment to this practice in a country overrun with thorny shrubs, and where no fences occur to render it a matter of expediency. DIVERSION OF TOSSING A BALL. They have a diversion similar to that described by Homer as practised among the Phaeacians, which consists in tossing an elastic wicker ball or round basket of split rattans into the air, and from one player to another, in a peculiar manner. This game is called by the Malays sipak raga, or, in the dialect of Bencoolen, chipak rago, and is played by a large party standing in an extended circle, who endeavour to keep up the ball by striking it either perpendicularly, in order to receive it again, or obliquely to some other person of the company, with the foot or the hand, the heel or the toe, the knee, the shoulder, the head, or with any other part of the body; the merit appearing to consist in producing the effect in the least obvious or most whimsical manner; and in this sport many of them attain an extraordinary degree of expertness. Among the plates of Lord Macartney's Embassy will be found the representation of a similar game, as practised by the natives of Cochin­china. SMOKING OF OPIUM. The Sumatrans, and more particularly the Malays, are much attached, in common with many other eastern people, to the custom of smoking opium. The poppy which produces it not growing on the island, it is annually imported from Bengal in considerable quantities, in chests containing a hundred and forty pounds each. It is made up in cakes of five or six pounds weight, and packed with dried leaves; in which situation it will continue good and vendible for two years, but after that period grows hard and diminishes considerably in value. It is of a darker colour, and is supposed to have less strength than the Turkey opium. About a hundred and fifty chests are consumed annually on the west coast of Sumatra, where it is purchased, on an average, at three hundred dollars the chest, and sold again in smaller quantities at five or six. But on occasions of extraordinary scarcity I have known it to sell for its weight in silver, and a single chest to fetch upwards of three thousand dollars. PREPARATION. The method of preparing it for use is as follows. The raw opium is first boiled or seethed in a copper vessel; then strained through a cloth to free it from impurities; and then a second time boiled. The leaf of the tambaku, shred fine, is mixed with it, in a quantity sufficient to absorb the whole; and it is afterwards made up into small pills, about the size of a pea, for smoking. One of these being put into the small tube that projects from the side of the opium pipe, that tube is applied to a lamp, and the pill being lighted is consumed at one whiff or inflation of the lungs, attended with a whistling noise. The smoke is never emitted by the mouth, but usually receives vent through the nostrils, and sometimes, by adepts, through the passage of the ears and eyes. This preparation of the opium is called maddat, and is often adulterated in the process by mixing jaggri, or pine sugar, with it; as is the raw opium, by incorporating with it the fruit of the pisang or plantain. EFFECTS OF OPIUM. The use of opium among these people, as that of intoxicating liquors among other nations, is a species of luxury which all ranks adopt according to their ability, and which, when once become habitual, it is almost impossible to shake off. Being however like other luxuries expensive, few only among the lower or middling class of people can compass the regular enjoyment of it, even where its use is not restrained, as it is among the pepper-planters, to the times of their festivals. That the practice of smoking opium must be in some degree prejudicial to the health is highly probable; yet I am inclined to think that effects have been attributed to it much more pernicious to the constitution than it in reality causes. The bugis soldiers and others in the Malay bazaars whom we see most attached to it, and who use it to excess, commonly appear emaciated; but they are in other respects abandoned and debauched. The Limun and Batang Assei gold-traders, on the contrary, who are an active, laborious class of men but yet indulge as freely in opium as any others whatever, are notwithstanding the most healthy and vigorous people to be met with on the island. It has been usual also to attribute to the practice destructive consequences of another nature from the frenzy it has been supposed to excite in those who take it in quantities. But this should probably rank with the many errors that mankind have been led into by travellers addicted to the marvellous; and there is every reason to believe that the furious quarrels, desperate assassinations, and sanguinary attacks, which the use of opium is said to give birth to, are idle notions, originally adopted through ignorance and since maintained from the mere want of investigation, without having any solid foundation. It is not to be controverted, that those desperate acts of indiscriminate murder, called by us mucks, and by the natives mengamok, do actually take place, and frequently too in some parts of the East (in Java in particular) but it is not equally evident that they proceed from any intoxication except that of their unruly passions. Too often they are occasioned by excess of cruelty and injustice in their oppressors. On the west coast of Sumatra about twenty thousand pounds weight of this drug are consumed annually, yet instances of this crime do not happen (at least within the scope of our knowledge) above once in two or three years. During my residence there I had an opportunity of being an eyewitness but to one muck. The slave of a Portuguese woman, a man of the island of Nias, who in all probability had never handled an opium pipe in his life, being treated by his mistress with extreme severity for a trifling offence, vowed he would have revenge if she attempted to strike him again, and ran down the steps of the house with a knife in each hand, as it is said. She cried out, mengamok! The civil guard was called, who, having the power in these cases of exercising summary justice, fired half a dozen rounds into an outhouse where the unfortunate wretch had sheltered himself on their approach, and from whence he was at length dragged, covered with wounds. Many other mucks might perhaps be found, upon scrutiny, of the nature of the foregoing, where a man of strong feelings was driven by excess of injury to domestic rebellion. It is true that the Malays, when in a state of war they are bent on any daring enterprise, fortify themselves with a few whiffs of opium to render them insensible to danger, as the people of another nation are said to take a dram for the same purpose; but it must be observed that the resolution for the act precedes, and is not the effect of, the intoxication. They take the same precaution previous to being led to public execution; but on these occasions show greater signs of stupidity than frenzy. Upon the whole it may be reasonably concluded that the sanguinary achievements, for which the Malays have been famous, or infamous rather, in history, are more justly to be attributed to the natural ferocity of their disposition, or to the influence upon their manners of a particular state of society, than to the qualities of any drug whatever. The pretext of the soldiers of the country-guard for using opium is that it may render them watchful on their nightly posts: we on the contrary administer it to procure sleep, and according to the quantity it has either effect. The delirium it produces is known to be so very pleasing that Pope has supposed this to have been designed by Homer when he describes the delicious draught prepared by Helen, called nepenthe, which exhilarated the spirits and banished from the mind the recollection of woe. It is remarkable that at Batavia, where the assassins just now described, when taken alive, are broken on the wheel, with every aggravation of punishment that the most rigorous justice can inflict, the mucks yet happen in great frequency, whilst at Bencoolen, where they are executed in the most simple and expeditious manner, the offence is extremely rare. Excesses of severity in punishment may deter men from deliberate and interested acts of villainy, but they add fuel to the atrocious enthusiasm of desperadoes. PIRATICAL ADVENTURES. A further proof of the influence that mild government has upon the manners of people is that the piratical adventures so common on the eastern coast of the island are unknown on the western. Far from our having apprehensions of the Malays, the guards at the smaller English settlements are almost entirely composed of them, with a mixture of Bugis or Makasar people. Europeans, attended by Malays only, are continually travelling through the country. They are the only persons employed in carrying treasure to distant places; in the capacity of secretaries for the country correspondence; as civil officers in seizing delinquents among the planters and elsewhere; and as masters and supercargoes of the tambangans, praws, and other small coasting vessels. So great is the effect of moral causes and habit upon a physical character esteemed the most treacherous and sanguinary. CHAPTER 15. CUSTOM OF CHEWING BETEL. EMBLEMATIC PRESENTS. ORATORY. CHILDREN. NAMES. CIRCUMCISION. FUNERALS. RELIGION. CUSTOM OF CHEWING BETEL. Whether to blunt the edge of painful reflection, or owing to an aversion our natures have to total inaction, most nations have been addicted to the practice of enjoying by mastication or otherwise the flavour of substances possessing an inebriating quality. The South Americans chew the cocoa and mambee, and the eastern people the betel and areca, or, as they are called in the Malay language, sirih and pinang. This custom has been accurately described by various writers, and therefore it is almost superfluous to say more on the subject than that the Sumatrans universally use it, carry the ingredients constantly about them, and serve it to their guests on all occasions--the prince in a gold stand, and the poor man in a brass box or mat bag. The betel-stands of the better rank of people are usually of silver embossed with rude figures. The Sultan of Moco-moco was presented with one by the India Company, with their arms on it; and he possesses beside another of gold filigree. The form of the stand is the frustum of a hexagonal pyramid reversed, about six or eight inches in diameter. It contains many smaller vessels fitted to the angles, for holding the nut, leaf, and chunam, which is quicklime made from calcined shells; with places for the instruments (kachip) employed in cutting the first, and spatulas for spreading the last. When the first salutation is over, which consists in bending the body, and the inferior's putting his joined hands between those of the superior, and then lifting them to his forehead, the betel is presented as a token of hospitality and an act of politeness. To omit it on the one hand or to reject it on the other would be an affront; as it would be likewise in a person of subordinate rank to address a great man without the precaution of chewing it before he spoke. All the preparation consists in spreading on the sirih leaf a small quantity of the chunam and folding it up with a slice of the pinang nut. Some mix with these gambir, which is a substance prepared from the leaves of a tree of that name by boiling their juices to a consistence, and made up into little balls or squares, as before spoken of: tobacco is likewise added, which is shred fine for the purpose, and carried between the lip and upper row of teeth. From the mastication of the first three proceeds a juice which tinges the saliva of a bright red, and which the leaf and nut, without the chunam, will not yield. This hue being communicated to the mouth and lips is esteemed ornamental; and an agreeable flavour is imparted to the breath. The juice is usually (after the first fermentation produced by the lime) though not always swallowed by the chewers of betel. We might reasonably suppose that its active qualities would injure the coats of the stomach, but experience seems to disprove such a consequence. It is common to see the teeth of elderly persons stand loose in the gums, which is probably the effect of this custom, but I do not think that it affects the soundness of the teeth themselves. Children begin to chew betel very young, and yet their teeth are always beautifully white till pains are taken to disfigure them by filing and staining them black. To persons who are not habituated to the composition it causes a strong giddiness, astringes and excoriates the tongue and fauces, and deadens for a time the faculty of taste. During the puasa, or fast of ramadan, the Mahometans among them abstain from the use of betel whilst the sun continues above the horizon; but excepting at this season it is the constant luxury of both sexes from an early period of childhood, till, becoming toothless, they are reduced to the necessity of having the ingredients previously reduced to a paste for them, that without further effort the betel may dissolve in the mouth. Along with the betel, and generally in the chunam, is the mode of conveying philtres, or love charms. How far they prove effectual I cannot take upon me to say, but suppose that they are of the nature of our stimulant medicines, and that the direction of the passion is of course indiscriminate. The practice of administering poison in this manner is not followed in latter times; but that the idea is not so far eradicated as entirely to prevent suspicion appears from this circumstance, that the guest, though taking a leaf from the betel-service of his entertainer, not unfrequently applies to it his own chunam, and never omits to pass the former between his thumb and forefinger in order to wipe off any extraneous matter. This mistrustful procedure is so common as not to give offence. TOBACCO. Beside the mode before-mentioned of enjoying the flavour of tobacco it is also smoked by the natives and for this use--after shredding it fine whilst green and drying it well it is rolled up in the thin leaves of a tree, and is in that form called roko, a word they appear to have borrowed from the Dutch. The rokos are carried in the betel-box, or more commonly under the destar or handkerchief which, in imitation of a turband, surrounds the head. Much tobacco is likewise imported from China and sells at a high price. It seems to possess a greater pungency than the Sumatran plant, which the people cultivate for their own use in the interior parts of the island. EMBLEMATIC PRESENTS. The custom of sending emblematical presents in order to make known, in a covert manner, the birth, progress, or change of certain affections of the mind, prevails here, as in some other parts of the East; and not only flowers of various kinds have their appropriate meaning, but also cayenne-pepper, betel-leaf, salt, and other articles are understood by adepts to denote love, jealousy, resentment, hatred, and other strong feelings. ORATORY. The Sumatrans in general are good speakers. The gift of oratory seems natural to them. I knew many among them whose harangues I have listened to with pleasure and admiration. This may be accounted for perhaps from the constitution of their government, which being far removed from despotism seems to admit, in some degree, every member of the society to a share in the public deliberations. Where personal endowments, as has been observed, will often raise a private man to a share of importance in the community,superior to that of a nominal chief, there is abundant inducement for the acquisition of these valuable talents. The forms of their judicial proceedings likewise, where there are no established advocates and each man depends upon his own or his friend's abilities for the management of his cause, must doubtless contribute to this habitual eloquence. We may add to these conjectures the nature of their domestic manners, which introduce the sons at an early period of life into the business of the family, and the counsels of their elders. There is little to be perceived among them of that passion for childish sports which marks the character of our boys from the seventh to the fourteenth year. In Sumatra you may observe infants, not exceeding the former age, full dressed and armed with a kris, seated in the circle of the old men of the dusun, and attending to their debates with a gravity of countenance not surpassed by their grandfathers. Thus initiated they are qualified to deliver an opinion in public at a time of life when an English schoolboy could scarcely return an answer to a question beyond the limits of his grammar or syntax, which he has learned by rote. It is not a little unaccountable that this people, who hold the art of speaking in such high esteem, and evidently pique themselves on the attainment of it, should yet take so much pains to destroy the organs of speech in filing down and otherwise disfiguring their teeth; and likewise adopt the uncouth practice of filling their mouths with betel whenever they prepare to hold forth. We must conclude that it is not upon the graces of elocution they value an orator, but his artful and judicious management of the subject matter; together with a copiousness of phrase, a perspicuity of thought, an advantageous arrangement, and a readiness, especially, at unravelling the difficulties and intricacies of their suits. CHILD-BEARING. The curse entailed on women in the article of child-bearing does not fall so heavy in this as in the northern countries. Their pregnancy scarcely at any period prevents their attendance on the ordinary domestic duties; and usually within a few hours after their delivery they walk to the bathing-place, at a small distance from the house. The presence of a sage femme is often esteemed superfluous. The facility of parturition may probably be owing to the relaxation of the frame from the warmth of the climate; to which cause also may be attributed the paucity of children borne by the Sumatran women and the early decay of their beauty and strength. They have the tokens of old age at a season of life when European women have not passed their prime. They are like the fruits of the country, soon ripe and soon decayed. They bear children before fifteen, are generally past it at thirty, and grey-headed and shrivelled at forty. I do not recollect hearing of any woman who had six children except the wife of Raddin of Madura, who had more; and she, contrary to the universal custom, did not give suck to hers. TREATMENT OF CHILDREN. Mothers carry the children not on the arm, as our nurses do, but straddling on the hip, and usually supported by a cloth which ties in a knot on the opposite shoulder. This practice I have been told is common in some parts of Wales. It is much safer than the other method, less tiresome to the nurse, and the child has the advantage of sitting in a less constrained posture: but the defensive armour of stays, and offensive weapons called pins, might be some objection to the general introduction of the fashion in England. The children are nursed but little, not confined by any swathing or bandages, and, being suffered to roll about the floor, soon learn to walk and shift for themselves. When cradles are used they are swung suspended from the ceiling of the rooms. AGE OF THE PEOPLE. The country people can very seldom give an account of their age, being entirely without any species of chronology. Among those country people who profess themselves Mahometans to very few is the date of the Hejra known; and even of those who in their writings make use of it not one in ten can pronounce in what year of it he was born. After a few taun padi (harvests) are elapsed they are bewildered in regard to the date of an event, and only guess at it from some contemporary circumstance of notoriety, as the appointment of a particular dupati, the incursion of a certain enemy, or the like. As far as can be judged from observation it would seem that not a great proportion of the men attain to the age of fifty, and sixty years is accounted a long life. NAMES. The children among the Rejangs have generally a name given to them by their parents soon after their birth, which is called namo daging. The galar (cognomen), another species of name, or title, as we improperly translate it, is bestowed at a subsequent, but not at any determinate, period: sometimes as the lads rise to manhood, at an entertainment given by the parent, on some particular occasion; and often at their marriage. It is generally conferred by the old men of the neighbouring villages, when assembled; but instances occur of its being irregularly assumed by the persons themselves; and some never obtain any galar. It is also not unusual, at a convention held on business of importance, to change the galar of one or two of the principal personages to others of superior estimation; though it is not easy to discover in what this pre-eminence consists, the appellations being entirely arbitrary, at the fancy of those who confer them: perhaps in the loftier sound, or more pompous allusion in the sense, which latter is sometimes carried to an extraordinary pitch of bombast, as in the instance of Pengunchang bumi, or Shaker of the World, the title of a pangeran of Manna. But a climax is not always perceptible in the change. FATHER NAMED FROM HIS CHILD. The father, in many parts of the country, particularly in Passummah, is distinguished by the name of his first child, as Pa-Ladin, or Pa-Rindu (Pa for bapa, signifying the father of), and loses in this acquired his own proper name. This is a singular custom, and surely less conformable to the order of nature than that which names the son from the father. There it is not usual to give them a galar on their marriage, as with the Rejangs, among whom the filionymic is not so common, though sometimes adopted, and occasionally joined with the galar; as Radin-pa-Chirano. The women never change the name given them at the time of their birth; yet frequently they are called, through courtesy, from their eldest child, Ma-si-ano, the mother of such a one; but rather as a polite description than a name. The word or particle Si is prefixed to the birth-names of persons, which almost ever consist of but a single word, as Si Bintang, Si Tolong; and we find from Captain Forrest's voyage that in the island of Mindanao the infant son of the Raja Muda was named Se Mama. HESITATE TO PRONOUNCE THEIR OWN NAME. A Sumatran ever scrupulously abstains from pronouncing his own name; not as I understand from any motive of superstition, but merely as a punctilio in manners. It occasions him infinite embarrassment when a stranger, unacquainted with their customs, requires it of him. As soon as he recovers from his confusion he solicits the interposition of his neighbour. ADDRESS IN THE THIRD PERSON. He is never addressed, except in the case of a superior dictating to his dependant, in the second person, but always in the third; using his name or title instead of the pronoun; and when these are unknown a general title of respect is substituted, and they say, for instance, apa orang kaya punia suka, what is his honour's pleasure for what is your, or your honour's pleasure? When criminals or other ignominious persons are spoken to use is made of the pronoun personal kau (a contraction of angkau) particularly expressive of contempt. The idea of disrespect annexed to the use of the second person in discourse, though difficult to be accounted for, seems pretty general in the world. The Europeans, to avoid the supposed indecorum, exchange the singular number for the plural; but I think with less propriety of effect than the Asiatic mode; if to take off from the bluntness of address be the object aimed at. CIRCUMCISION. The boys are circumcised, where Mahometanism prevails, between the sixth and tenth year. The ceremony is called krat kulop and buang or lepas malu (casting away their shame), and a bimbang is usually given on the occasion; as well as at the ceremony of boring the ears and filing the teeth of their daughters (before described), which takes place at about the age of ten or twelve; and until this is performed they cannot with propriety be married. FUNERALS. At their funerals the corpse is carried to the place of interment on a broad plank, which is kept for the public service of the dusun, and lasts for many generations. It is constantly rubbed with lime, either to preserve it from decay or to keep it pure. No coffin is made use of; the body being simply wrapped in white cloth, particularly of the sort called hummums. In forming the grave (kubur), after digging to a convenient depth they make a cavity in the side, at bottom, of sufficient dimensions to contain the body, which is there deposited on its right side. By this mode the earth literally lies light upon it; and the cavity, after strewing flowers in it, they stop up by two boards fastened angularly to each other, so that the one is on the top of the corpse, whilst the other defends it on the open side, the edge resting on the bottom of the grave. The outer excavation is then filled up with earth, and little white flags or streamers are stuck in order around. They likewise plant a shrub, bearing a white flower, called kumbang­kamboja (Plumeria obtusa), and in some places wild marjoram. The women who attend the funeral make a hideous noise, not much unlike the Irish howl. On the third and seventh day the relations perform a ceremony at the grave, and at the end of twelve months that of tegga batu, or setting up a few long elliptical stones at the head and foot, which, being scarce in some parts of the country, bear a considerable price. On this occasion they kill and feast on a buffalo, and leave the head to decay on the spot as a token of the honour they have done to the deceased, in eating to his memory.* The ancient burying-places are called krammat, and are supposed to have been those of the holy men by whom their ancestors were converted to the faith. They are held in extraordinary reverence, and the least disturbance or violation of the ground, though all traces of the graves be obliterated, is regarded as an unpardonable sacrilege. (*Footnote. The above ceremonies (with the exception of the last) are briefly described in the following lines, extracted from a Malayan poem. Setelah sudah de tangisi, nia Lalu de kubur de tanamkan 'nia De ambel koran de ajikan 'nia Sopaya lepas deri sangsara 'nia Mengaji de kubur tujuh ari Setelah de khatam tiga kali Sudah de tegga batu sakali Membayer utang pada si-mati.) RELIGION. In works descriptive of the manners of people little known to the world the account of their religion usually constitutes an article of the first importance. Mine will labour under the contrary disadvantage. The ancient and genuine religion of the Rejangs, if in fact they ever had any, is scarcely now to be traced; and what principally adds to its obscurity, and the difficulty of getting information on the subject, is that even those among them who have not been initiated in the principles of Mahometanism yet regard those who have as persons advanced a step in knowledge beyond them, and therefore hesitate to own circumstantially that they remain still unenlightened. Ceremonies are fascinating to mankind, and without comprehending with what views they were instituted the profanum vulgus naturally give them credit for something mysterious and above their capacities, and accordingly pay them a tribute of respect. With Mahometanism a more extensive field of knowledge (I speak in comparison) is open to its converts, and some additional notions of science are conveyed. These help to give it importance, though it must be confessed they are not the most pure tenets of that religion which have found their way to Sumatra; nor are even the ceremonial parts very scrupulously adhered to. Many who profess to follow it give themselves not the least concern about its injunctions, or even know what they require. A Malay at Manna upbraided a countryman with the total ignorance of religion his nation laboured under. "You pay a veneration to the tombs of your ancestors: what foundation have you for supposing that your dead ancestors can lend you assistance?" "It may be true," answered the other, "but what foundation have you for expecting assistance from Allah and Mahomet?" "Are you not aware, replied the Malay, that it is written in a Book? Have you not heard of the Koran?" The native of Passummah, with conscious inferiority, submitted to the force of this argument. If by religion is meant a public or private form of worship of any kind, and if prayers, processions, meetings, offerings, images, or priests are any of them necessary to constitute it, I can pronounce that the Rejangs are totally without religion and cannot with propriety be even termed pagans, if that, as I apprehend, conveys the idea of mistaken worship. They neither worship God, devil, nor idols. They are not however without superstitious beliefs of many kinds, and have certainly a confused notion, though perhaps derived from their intercourse with other people, of some species of superior beings who have the power of rendering themselves visible or invisible at pleasure. These they call orang alus, fine, or impalpable beings, and regard them as possessing the faculty of doing them good or evil, deprecating their wrath as the sense of present misfortunes or apprehension of future prevails in their minds. But when they speak particularly of them they call them by the appellations of maleikat and jin, which are the angels and evil spirits of the Arabians, and the idea may probably have been borrowed at the same time with the names. These are the powers they also refer to in an oath. I have heard a dupati say, "My grandfather took an oath that he would not demand the jujur of that woman, and imprecated a curse on any of his descendants that should do it: I never have, nor could I without salah kapada maleikat--an offence against the angels." Thus they say also, de talong nabi, maleikat, the prophet and angels assisting. This is pure Mahometanism. NO NAME FOR THE DEITY. The clearest proof that they never entertained an idea of Theism or the belief of one supreme power is that they have no word in their language to express the person of God, except the Allah tala of the Malays, corrupted by them to Ulah tallo. Yet when questioned on the subject they assert their ancestors' knowledge of a deity, though their thoughts were never employed about him; but this evidently means no more than that their forefathers as well as themselves had heard of the Allah of the Mahometans (Allah orang islam). IDEA OF INVISIBLE BEINGS. They use, both in Rejang and Passummah, the word dewa to express a superior invisible class of beings; but each country acknowledges it to be of foreign derivation, and they suppose it Javanese. Radin, of Madura, an island close to Java, who was well conversant with the religious opinions of most nations, asserted to me that dewa was an original word of that country for a superior being, which the Javans of the interior believed in, but with regard to whom they used no ceremonies or forms of worship:* that they had some idea of a future life, but not as a state of retribution, conceiving immortality to be the lot of rich rather than of good men. I recollect that an inhabitant of one of the islands farther eastward observed to me, with great simplicity, that only great men went to the skies; how should poor men find admittance there? The Sumatrans, where untinctured with Mahometanism, do not appear to have any notion of a future state. Their conception of virtue or vice extends no farther than to the immediate effect of actions to the benefit or prejudice of society, and all such as tend not to either of these ends are in their estimation perfectly indifferent. (*Footnote. In the Transactions of the Batavian Society Volumes 1 and 3 is to be found a History of these Dewas of the Javans, translated from an original manuscript. The mythology is childish and incoherent. The Dutch commentator supposes them to have been a race of men held sacred, forming a species of Hierarchy, like the government of the Lamas in Tartary.) Notwithstanding what is asserted of the originality of the word dewa, I cannot help remarking its extreme affinity to the Persian word div or diw, which signifies an evil spirit or bad genius. Perhaps, long antecedent to the introduction of the faith of the khalifs among the eastern people, this word might have found its way and been naturalized in the islands; or perhaps its progress was in a contrary direction. It has likewise a connexion in sound with the names used to express a deity or some degree of superior being by many other people of this region of the earth. The Battas, inhabitants of the northern end of Sumatra, whom I shall describe hereafter, use the word daibattah or daivattah; the Chingalese of Ceylon dewiju, the Telingas of India dai-wundu, the Biajus of Borneo dewattah, the Papuas of New Guinea 'wat, and the Pampangos of the Philippines diuata. It bears likewise an affinity (perhaps accidental) to the deus and deitas of the Romans.* (*Footnote. At the period when the above was written I was little aware of the intimate connexion now well understood to have anciently subsisted between the Hindus and the various nations beyond the Ganges. The most evident proofs appear of the extensive dissemination both of their language and mythology throughout Sumatra, Java, Balli (where at this day they are best preserved), and the other eastern islands. To the Sanskrit words dewa and dewata, signifying divinities in that great mother-tongue, we are therefore to look for the source of the terms, more or less corrupted, that have been mentioned in the text. See Asiatic Researches Volume 4 page 223.) VENERATION FOR THE MANES AND TOMBS OF THEIR ANCESTORS. The superstition which has the strongest influence on the minds of the Sumatrans, and which approaches the nearest to a species of religion, is that which leads them to venerate, almost to the point of worshipping, the tombs and manes of their deceased ancestors (nenek puyang). These they are attached to as strongly as to life itself, and to oblige them to remove from the neighbourhood of their krammat is like tearing up a tree by the roots; these the more genuine country people regard chiefly, when they take a solemn oath, and to these they apostrophise in instances of sudden calamity. Had they the art of making images or other representations of them they would be perfect lares, penates, or household gods. It has been asserted to me by the natives (conformably to what we are told by some of the early travellers) that in very ancient times the Sumatrans made a practice of burning the bodies of their dead, but I could never find any traces of the custom, or any circumstances that corroborated it. METEMPSYCHOSIS. They have an imperfect notion of a metempsychosis, but not in any degree systematic, nor considered as an article of religious faith. Popular stories prevail amongst them of such a particular man being changed into a tiger or other beast. They seem to think indeed that tigers in general are actuated with the spirits of departed men, and no consideration will prevail on a countryman to catch or to wound one but in self-defence, or immediately after the act of destroying a friend or relation. They speak of them with a degree of awe, and hesitate to call them by their common name (rimau or machang), terming them respectfully satwa (the wild animals), or even nenek (ancestors), as really believing them such, or by way of soothing and coaxing them; as our ignorant country folk call the fairies the good people. When a European procures traps to be set, by the means of persons less superstitious, the inhabitants of the neighbourhood have been known to go at night to the place and practise some forms in order to persuade the animal, when caught, or when he shall perceive the bait, that it was not laid by them, or with their consent. They talk of a place in the country where the tigers have a court and maintain a regular form of government, in towns, the houses of which are thatched with women's hair. It happened that in one month seven or eight people were killed by these prowling beasts in Manna district; upon which a report became current that fifteen hundred of them were come down from Passummah, of which number four were without understanding (gila), and having separated from the rest ran about the country occasioning all the mischief that was felt. The alligators also are highly destructive, owing to the constant practice of bathing in the rivers, and are regarded with nearly the same degree of religious terror. Fear is the parent of superstition, by ignorance. Those two animals prove the Sumatran's greatest scourge. The mischief the former commit is incredible, whole villages being often depopulated by them, and the suffering people learn to reverence as supernatural effects the furious ravages of an enemy they have not resolution to oppose. The Sumatrans are firmly persuaded that various particular persons are what they term betuah (sacred, impassive, invulnerable, not liable to accident), and this quality they sometimes extend to things inanimate, as ships and boats. Such an opinion, which we should suppose every man might have an opportunity of bringing to the test of truth, affords a humiliating proof of the weakness and credulity of human nature, and the fallibility of testimony, when a film of prejudice obscures the light of the understanding. I have known two men, whose honesty, good faith, and reasonableness in the general concerns of life were well established, and whose assertions would have weight in transactions of consequence: these men I have heard maintain, with the most deliberate confidence and an appearance of inward conviction of their own sincerity, that they had more than once in the course of their wars attempted to run their weapons into the naked body of their adversary, which they found impenetrable, their points being continually and miraculously turned without any effort on the part of the orang betuah: and that hundreds of instances of the like nature, where the invulnerable man did not possess the smallest natural means of opposition, had come within their observation. An English officer, with more courage and humour than discretion, exposed one imposture of this kind. A man having boasted in his presence that he was endowed with this supernatural privilege, the officer took an opportunity of applying to his arm the point of a sword and drew the blood, to the no little diversion of the spectators, and mortification of the pretender to superior gifts, who vowed revenge, and would have taken it had not means been used to keep him at a distance. But a single detection of charlatanerie is not effectual to destroy a prevalent superstition. These impostors are usually found among the Malays and not the more simple country people. NO MISSIONARIES. No attempts, I have reason to think, have ever been made by missionaries or others to convert the inhabitants of the island to Christianity, and I have much doubt whether the most zealous and able would meet with any permanent success in this pious work. Of the many thousands baptized in the eastern islands by the celebrated Francis Xavier in the sixteenth century not one of their descendants are now found to retain a ray of the light imparted to them; and probably, as it was novelty only and not conviction that induced the original converts to embrace a new faith, the impression lasted no longer than the sentiment which recommended it, and disappeared as rapidly as the itinerant apostle. Under the influence however of the Spanish government at Manila and of the Dutch at Batavia there are many native Christians, educated as such from children. In the Malayan language Portuguese and Christians are confounded under the same general name; the former being called orang Zerani, by corruption for Nazerani. This neglect of missions to Sumatra is one cause that the interior of the country has been so little known to the civilized world. CHAPTER 16. THE COUNTRY OF LAMPONG AND ITS INHABITANTS. LANGUAGE. GOVERNMENT. WARS. PECULIAR CUSTOMS. RELIGION. Having thus far spoken of the manners and customs of the Rejangs more especially, and adverted, as occasion served, to those of the Passummah people, who nearly resemble them, I shall now present a cursory view of those circumstances in which their southern neighbours, the inhabitants of the Lampong country, differ from them, though this dissimilitude is not very considerable; and shall add such information as I have been enabled to obtain respecting the people of Korinchi and other tribes dwelling beyond the ranges of hills which bound the pepper-districts. LIMITS OF THE LAMPONG COUNTRY. By the Lampong country is understood a portion of the southern extreme of the island, beginning, on the west coast, at the river of Padang-guchi, which divides it from Passummah, and extending across as far as Palembang, on the north-east side, at which last place the settlers are mostly Javans. On the south and east sides it is washed by the sea, having several ports in the Straits of Sunda, particularly Keysers and Lampong Bays; and the great river Tulang-bawang runs through the heart of it, rising from a considerable lake between the ranges of mountains. That division which is included by Padang-guchi, and a place called Nassal, is distinguished by the name of Briuran, and from thence southward to Flat Point, by that of Laut-Kawur; although Kawur, properly so called, lies in the northern division. TULANG BAWANG RIVER. Upon the Tulang-bawang, at a place called Mangala, thirty-six leagues from its mouth, the Dutch have a fortified post. There also the representative of the king of Bantam, who claims the dominion of the whole country of Lampong, has his residence, the river Masusi, which runs into the former, being the boundary of his territories and those of the sultan of Palembang. In the neighbourhood of these rivers the land is so low as to be overflowed in the rainy season, or months of January and February, when the waters have been known to rise many feet in the course of a few hours, the villages, situated on the higher spots, appearing as islands. The houses of those immediately on the banks are built on piles of ironwood timber, and each has before it a floating raft for the convenience of washing. In the western parts, towards Samangka, on the contrary, the land is mountainous, and Keyser's Peak, as well as Pugong, are visible to a great distance at sea. INHABITANTS. The country is best inhabited in the central and mountainous parts, where the people live independent, and in some measure secure from the inroads of their eastern neighbours, the Javans, who, from about Palembang and the Straits, frequently attempt to molest them. It is probably within but a very few centuries that the south-west coast of this country has been the habitation of any considerable number of people; and it has been still less visited by strangers, owing to the unsheltered nature of the sea thereabouts, and want of soundings in general, which renders the navigation wild and dangerous for country vessels; and to the rivers being small and rapid, with shallow bars and almost ever a high surf. If you ask the people of these parts from whence they originally came they answer, from the hills, and point out an inland place near the great lake from whence they say their forefathers emigrated: and further than this it is impossible to trace. They of all the Sumatrans have the strongest resemblance to the Chinese, particularly in the roundness of face and constructure of the eyes. They are also the fairest people of the island, and the women are the tallest and esteemed the most handsome. LANGUAGE. Their language differs considerably, though not essentially, from that of the Rejangs, and the characters they use are peculiar to themselves, as may be observed in the specimens exhibited. GOVERNMENT. The titles of government are pangeran (from the Javans), kariyer, and kiddimong or nebihi; the latter nearly answering to dupati among the Rejangs. The district of Kroi, near Mount Pugong, is governed by five magistrates called Panggau-limo, and a sixth, superior, called by way of eminence Panggau; but their authority is said to be usurped and is often disputed. The word in common signifies a gladiator or prizefighter. The pangeran of Suko, in the hills, is computed to have four or five thousand dependants, and sometimes, on going a journey, he levies a tali, or eighth part of a dollar, on each family, which shows his authority to be more arbitrary and probably more strictly feudal than among the Rejangs, where the government is rather patriarchal. This difference has doubtless its source in the wars and invasions to which the former people are exposed. WARS. The Javanese banditti, as has been observed, often advance into the country, and commit depredations on the inhabitants, who are not, in general, a match for them. They do not make use of firearms. Beside the common weapons of the island they fight with a long lance which is carried by three men, the foremost guiding the point and covering himself and his companions with a large shield. A compact body thus armed would have been a counterpart of the Macedonian phalanx, but can prove, I should apprehend, of but little use among a people with whom war is carried on in a desultory manner, and more in the way of ambuscade than of general engagement, in which alone troops so armed could act with effect. Inland of Samangka, in the Straits of Sunda, there is a district, say the Lampongs, inhabited by a ferocious people called orang Abung, who were a terror to the neighbouring country until their villages were destroyed some years ago by an expedition from the former place. Their mode of atoning for offences against their own community, or, according to a Malayan narrative in my possession, of entitling themselves to wives, was by bringing to their dusuns the heads of strangers. The account may be true, but without further authentication such stories are not to be too implicitly credited on the faith of a people who are fond of the marvellous and addicted to exaggeration. Thus they believed the inhabitants of the island Engano to be all females, who were impregnated by the wind, like the mares in Virgil's Georgics. MANNERS. The manners of the Lampongs are more free, or rather licentious, than those of any other native Sumatrans. An extraordinary liberty of intercourse is allowed between the young people of different sexes, and the loss of female chastity is not a very uncommon consequence. The offence is there however thought more lightly of, and instead of punishing the parties, as in Passummah and elsewhere, they prudently endeavour to conclude a legal match between them. But if this is not effected the lady still continues to wear the insignia of virginity, the fillet and arm-rings, and takes her place as such at festivals. It is not only on these public occasions that the young men and women have opportunities of forming arrangements, as in most other parts of the island. They frequently associate together at other times; and the former are seen gallantly reclining in the maiden's lap, whispering soft nonsense, whilst she adjusts and perfumes his hair, or does a friendly office of less delicacy to a European apprehension. At bimbangs the women often put on their dancing dress in the public hall, letting that garment which they mean to lay aside dexterously drop from under, as the other passes over the head, but sometimes, with an air of coquetry, displaying as if by chance enough to warm youthful imaginations. Both men and women anoint themselves before company when they prepare to dance; the women their necks and arms, and the men their breasts. They also paint each others faces; not, seemingly, with a view of heightening or imitating the natural charms, but merely as matter of fashion; making fantastic spots with the finger on the forehead, temples, and cheeks, of white, red, yellow, and other hues. A brass salver (tallam) covered with little china cups, containing a variety of paints, is served up for this purpose. Instances have happened here, though rarely, of very disagreeable conclusions to their feasts. A party of risaus among the young fellows have been known suddenly to extinguish the lights for the purpose of robbing the girls, not of their chastity, as might be apprehended, but of the gold and silver ornaments of their persons. An outrage of this nature I imagine could only happen in Lampong, where their vicinity to Java affords the culprits easier and surer means of escape, than in the central parts of the island; and here too their companies appear to be more mixed, collected from greater distances, and not composed, as with the Rejang people, of a neighbourly assemblage of the old men and women of a few contiguous villages with their sons and daughters, for the sake of convivial mirth, of celebrating a particular domestic event, and promoting attachments and courtship amongst the young people. PARTICULAR CUSTOMS. In every dusun there is appointed a youth, well fitted by nature and education for the office, who acts as master of ceremonies at their public meetings, arranges the young men and women in their proper places, makes choice of their partners, and regulates all other circumstances of the assembly except the important economy of the festival part or cheer, which comes under the cognizance of one of the elders. Both parts of the entertainment are preceded by long complimentary speeches, delivered by the respective stewards, who in return are answered and complimented on their skill, liberality, and other qualities, by some of the best bred amongst the guests. Though the manner of conducting, and the appendages of these feasts, are superior in style to the rustic hospitality of some of the northern countries, yet they are esteemed to be much behind those in the goodness and mode of dressing their food. The Lampongs eat almost all kinds of flesh indiscriminately, and their guleis (curries or made dishes) are said, by connoisseurs, to have no flavour. They serve up the rice divided into portions for each person, contrary to the practice in the other countries; the tallam being covered with a handsome crimson napkin manufactured for that use. They are wont to entertain strangers with much more profusion than is met with in the rest of the island. If the guest is of any consequence they do not hesitate to kill, beside goats and fowls, a buffalo, or several, according to the period of his stay, and the number of his attendants. One man has been known to entertain a person of rank and his suite for sixteen days, during which time there were not less than a hundred dishes of rice spread each day, containing some one, some two bamboos. They have dishes here, of a species of china or earthenware, called batu benauang, brought from the eastward, remarkably heavy, and very dear, some of them being valued at forty dollars a piece. The breaking one of them is a family loss of no small importance. RECEPTION OF STRANGERS. Abundantly more ceremony is used among these people at interviews with strangers than takes place in the countries adjacent to them. Not only the chief person of a party travelling, but every one of his attendants, is obliged, upon arriving at a town, to give a formal account of their business, or occasion of coming that way. When the principal man of the dusun is acquainted by the stranger with the motives of his journey he repeats his speech at full length before he gives an answer; and if it is a person of great consequence, the words must pass through two or three mouths before they are supposed to come with sufficient ceremony to his ears. This in fact has more the air of adding to his own importance and dignity than to that of the guest; but it is not in Sumatra alone that respect is manifested by this seeming contradiction. The terms of the jujur, or equivalent for wives, is the same here, nearly, as with the Rejangs. The kris-head is not essential to the bargain, as among the people of Passummah. The father of the girl never admits of the putus tali kulo, or whole sum being paid, and thereby withholds from the husband, in any case, the right of selling his wife, who, in the event of a divorce, returns to her relations. Where the putus tali is allowed to take place, he has a property in her, little differing from that of a slave, as formerly observed. The particular sums which constitute the jujur are less complex here than at other places. The value of the maiden's golden trinkets is nicely estimated, and her jujur regulated according to that and the rank of her parents. The semando marriage scarcely ever takes place but among poor people, where there is no property on either side, or in the case of a slip in the conduct of the female, when the friends are glad to make up a match in this way instead of demanding a price for her. Instances have occurred however of countrymen of rank affecting a semando marriage in order to imitate the Malayan manners; but it has been looked upon as improper and liable to create confusion. The fines and compensation for murder are in every respect the same as in the countries already described. RELIGION. The Mahometan religion has made considerable progress amongst the Lampongs, and most of their villages have mosques in them: yet an attachment to the original superstitions of the country induces them to regard with particular veneration the ancient burying-places of their fathers, which they piously adorn and cover in from the weather. SUPERSTITIOUS OPINIONS. In some parts, likewise, they superstitiously believe that certain trees, particularly those of a venerable appearance (as an old jawi-jawi or banyan tree) are the residence, or rather the material frame of spirits of the woods; an opinion which exactly answers to the idea entertained by the ancients of the dryads and hamadryads. At Benkunat in the Lampong country there is a long stone, standing on a flat one, supposed by the people to possess extraordinary power or virtue. It is reported to have been once thrown down into the water and to have raised itself again to its original position, agitating the elements at the same time with a prodigious storm. To approach it without respect they believe to be the source of misfortune to the offender. The inland people of that country are said to pay a kind of adoration to the sea, and to make to it an offering of cakes and sweetmeats on their beholding it for the first time, deprecating its power of doing them mischief. This is by no means surprising when we consider the natural proneness of unenlightened mankind to regard with superstitious awe whatever has the power of injuring them without control, and particularly when it is attended with any circumstances mysterious and inexplicable to their understandings. The sea possesses all these qualities. Its destructive and irresistible power is often felt, and especially on the coasts of India where tremendous surfs are constantly breaking on the shore, rising often to their greatest degree of violence without any apparent external cause. Add to this the flux and reflux and perpetual ordinary motion of that element, wonderful even to philosophers who are acquainted with the cause, unaccountable to ignorant men, though long accustomed to the effects; but to those who only once or twice in their lives have been eyewitnesses to the phenomena, supernatural and divine. It must not however be understood that anything like a regular worship is paid to the sea by these people, any more than we should conclude that people in England worship witches when they nail a horseshoe on the threshold to prevent their approach, or break the bottoms of eggshells to hinder them from sailing in them. It is with the inhabitants of Lampong no more than a temporary sentiment of fear and respect, which a little familiarity soon effaces. Many of them indeed imagine it endowed with a principle of voluntary motion. They tell a story of an ignorant fellow who, observing with astonishment its continual agitation, carried a vessel of sea water with him, on his return to the country, and poured it into a lake, in full expectation of seeing it perform the same fanciful motions he had admired it for in its native bed.* (*Footnote. The manners of the natives of the Philippine or Luzon Islands correspond in so many striking particulars with those of the inland Sumatrans, and especially where they differ most from the Malays, that I think no doubt can be entertained, if not of a sameness of origin, at least of an intercourse and connection in former times which now no longer exists. The following instances are taken from an essay preserved by Thevenot, entitled Relation des Philippines par un religieux; traduite d'un manuscrit Espagnol du cabinet de Monsieur Dom. Carlo del Pezzo (without date), and from a manuscript communicated to me by Alex Dalrymple, Esquire. "The chief Deity of the Tagalas is called Bathala mei Capal, and also Diuata; and their principal idolatry consists in adoring those of their ancestors who signalised themselves for courage or abilities, calling them Humalagar, i.e. manes: They make slaves of the people who do not keep silence at the tombs of their ancestors. They have great veneration for the crocodile, which they call nono, signifying grandfather, and make offerings to it. Every old tree they look upon as a superior being, and think it a crime to cut it down. They worship also stones, rocks, and points of land, shooting arrows at these last as they pass them. They have priests who, at their sacrifices, make many contortions and grimaces, as if possessed with a devil. The first man and woman, they say, were produced from a bamboo, which burst in the island of Sumatra; and they quarrelled about their marriage. The people mark their bodies in various figures, and render them of the colour of ashes, have large holes in their ears, blacken and file their teeth, and make an opening which they fill up with gold, they used to write from top to bottom till the Spaniards taught them to write from left to right, bamboos and palm leaves serve them for paper. They cover their houses with straw, leaves of trees, or bamboos split in two which serve for tiles. They hire people to sing and weep at their funerals, burn benzoin, bury their dead on the third day in strong coffins, and sometimes kill slaves to accompany their deceased masters.") The latter account is more particular, and appears of modern date. They held the caiman, or alligator, in great reverence, and when they saw him they called him nono, or grandfather, praying with great tenderness that he would do them no harm, and to this end, offered him of whatever they had in their boats, throwing it into the water. There was not an old tree to which they did not offer divine worship, especially that called balete; and even at this time they have some respect for them. Beside these they had certain idols inherited from their ancestors, which the Tagalas called Anita, and the Bisayans, Divata. Some of these were for the mountains and plains, and they asked their leave when they would pass them: others for the corn fields, and to these they recommend them, that they might be fertile, placing meat and drink in the fields for the use of the Anitos. There was one, of the sea, who had care of their fishing and navigation; another of the house, whose favour they implored at the birth of a child, and under whose protection they placed it. They made Anitos also of their deceased ancestors, and to these were their first invocations in all difficulties and dangers. They reckoned amongst these beings, all those who were killed by lightning or alligators, or had any disastrous death, and believed that they were carried up to the happy state, by the rainbow, which they call Balan-gao. In general they endeavoured to attribute this kind of divinity to their fathers, when they died in years, and the old men, vain with this barbarous notion, affected in their sickness a gravity and composure of mind, as they conceived, more than human, because they thought themselves commencing Anitos. They were to be interred at places marked out by themselves, that they might be discovered at a distance and worshipped. The missionaries have had great trouble in demolishing their tombs and idols; but the Indians, inland, still continue the custom of pasing tabi sa nano, or asking permission of their dead ancestors, when they enter any wood, mountain, or corn field, for hunting or sowing; and if they omit this ceremony imagine their nonos will punish them with bad fortune. Their notions of the creation of the world, and formation of mankind, had something ridiculously extravagant. They believed that the world at first consisted only of sky and water, and between these two, a glede; which, weary with flying about, and finding no place to rest, set the water at variance with the sky, which, in order to keep it in bounds, and that it should not get uppermost, loaded the water with a number of islands, in which the glede might settle and leave them at peace. Mankind, they said, sprang out of a large cane with two joints, that, floating about in the water, was at length thrown by the waves against the feet of the glede, as it stood on shore, which opened it with its bill, and the man came out of one joint, and the woman out of the other. These were soon after married by consent of their God, Batkala Meycapal, which caused the first trembling of the earth; and from thence are descended the different nations of the world.") CHAPTER 17. ACCOUNT OF THE INLAND COUNTRY OF KORINCHI. EXPEDITION TO THE SERAMPEI AND SUNGEI-TENANG COUNTRIES. COUNTRY OF KORINCHI. At the back of the range of high mountains by which the countries of Indrapura and Anak-sungei are bounded lies the district or valley of Korinchi, which, from its secluded situation, has hitherto been little known to Europeans. In the year 1800 Mr. Charles Campbell, whose name I have had frequent occasion to mention, was led to visit this spot, in the laudable pursuit of objects for the improvement of natural history, and from his correspondence I shall extract such parts as I have reason to hope will be gratifying to the reader. MR. CAMPBELL'S JOURNEY. Says this indefatigable traveller: The country of Korinchi first occupied my attention. From the sea-coast at Moco-moco to the foot of the mountains cost us three days' weary journey, and although our path was devious I cannot estimate the distance at less than thirty miles, for it was late on the fourth day when we began to ascend. Your conjecture that the ridge is broader betwixt the plains of Anak-sungei and valley of Korinchi than that which we see from Bencoolen is just. Our route in general lay north-east until we attained the summit of the first high range, from which elevated situation, through an opening in the wood, the Pagi or Nassau Islands were clearly visible. During the next day our course along the ridge of hills was a little to the northward of north­west, and for the two following days almost due north, through as noble a forest as was ever penetrated by man. On the evening of the last we descended by a steep and seemingly short path from the summit of the second range (for there are obviously two) into the Korinchi country. SITUATION OF LAKE. This descent did not occupy us more than twenty minutes, so that the valley must lie at a great height above the level of the sea; but it was yet a few days march to the inhabited and cultivated land on the border of the great lake, which I conjecture to be situated directly behind Indrapura, or north-east from the mouth of that river. There are two lakes, but one of them is inconsiderable. I sailed for some time on the former, which may be nearly as broad as the strait between Bencoolen and Rat Island. My companions estimated it at seven miles; but the eye is liable to much deception, and, having seen nothing for many days but rivulets, the grandeur of the sheet of water, when it first burst upon our sight, perhaps induced us to form too high a notion of its extent. Its banks were studded with villages; it abounds with fish, particularly the summah, a species of cyprinus; its waters are clear and beautiful from the reflection of the black and shining sand which covers the bottom in many places to the depth of eight or ten inches. INHABITANTS. The inhabitants are below the common stature of the Malays, with harder visages and higher cheekbones, well knit in their limbs, and active; not deficient in hospitality, but jealous of strangers. The women, excepting a few of the daughters of the chiefs, were in general ill­favoured, and even savage in their aspect. At the village of In-juan on the borders of the lake I saw some of them with rings of copper and shells among their hair; they wore destars round their heads like the men, and almost all of them had siwars or small daggers at their sides. They were not shut up or concealed from us, but mixed with our party, on the contrary, with much frankness. BUILDINGS. The people dwell in hordes, many families being crowded together in one long building. That in which I lived gave shelter to twenty-five families. The front was one long undivided verandah, where the unmarried men slept; the back part was partitioned into small cabins, each of which had a round hole with a door to fit it, and through this the female inmates crept backwards and forwards in the most awkward manner and ridiculous posture. This house was in length two hundred and thirty feet, and elevated from the ground. Those belonging to the chiefs were smaller, well constructed of timber and plank, and covered with shingles or thin plates of board bound on with rattans, about the size and having much the appearance of our slates. DRESSES. The dresses of the young women of rank were pretty enough. A large blue turband, woven with silver chains, which, meeting behind and crossing, were fastened to the earrings in festoons, decorated their heads. In this was placed a large plume of cock's feathers, bending forward over the face. The jacket was blue, of a silky texture, their own work, and bordered with small gold chain. The body-dress, likewise of their own weaving, was of cotton mingled with silk, richly striped and mixed with gold thread; but they wear it no lower than the knees. The youths of fashion were in a kind of harlequin habit, the forepart of the trousers white, the back-part blue; their jacket after the same fashion. They delighted much in an instrument made from some part of the iju palm-tree, which resembled and produced a sound like the jews-harp. COOKERY. Their domestic economy (I speak of the houses of the chiefs) seemed better regulated than it generally is in these countries; they seemed tolerably advanced in the art of cookery, and had much variety of food; such as the flesh of deer, which they take in rattan snares, wild ducks, abounding on the lake; green pigeons, quails innumerable; and a variety of fish beside the summah already mentioned, and the ikan gadis, a species of carp which attains to a greater size here than in the rivers. ESCULENT VEGETABLES. The potato, which was introduced there many years ago, is now a common article of food, and cultivated with some attention. Their plantations supply many esculent herbs, fruits, and roots; but the coconut, although reared as a curiosity, is abortive in these inland regions, and its place is supplied by the buah kras (Juglans camirium), of which they also make their torches. Excellent tobacco is grown there, also cotton and indigo, the small leafed kind. They get some silk from Palembang, and rear a little themselves. The communication is more frequent with the north-west shore than with the eastern, and of late, since the English have been settled at Pulo Chinco, they prefer going there for opium to the more tedious (though less distant) journey by which they formerly sought it at Moco-moco. GOLD. In their cockpits the gold-scales are frequent, and I have seen considerable quantities weighed out by the losers. This metal, I am informed, they get in their own country, although they studiously evaded all inquiries on the subject. GUNPOWDER. They make gunpowder, and it is a common sport among the young boys to fire it out of bamboos. In order to increase its strength, in their opinion, they mingle it with pepper-dust. LEPERS. In a small recess on the margin of the lake, overhung with very rugged cliffs and accessible only by water, I saw one of those receptacles of misery to which the leprous and others afflicted with diseases supposed to be contagious are banished. I landed much against the remonstrances of my conductors, who would not quit the boat. There were in all seven of these unfortunate people basking on the beach and warming the wretched remains of their bodies in the sun. They were fed at stated periods by the joint contribution of the neighbouring villages, and I was given to understand that any attempt to quit this horrid exile was punished with death. PECULIAR PLANTS. I had little time for botanizing; but I found there many plants unknown to the lowlands. Among them were a species of prune, the water-hemlock, and the strawberry. This last was like that species which grows in our woods; but it was insipid. I brought the roots with me to Fort Marlborough, where it lingered a year or two after fruiting and gradually died.* I found there also a beautiful kind of the Hedychium coronarium, now ranked among the kaempferias. It was of a pale orange, and had a most grateful odour. The girls wear it in their hair, and its beautiful head of lily flowers is used in the silent language of love, to the practice of which, during your stay here, I suppose you were no stranger, and which indicates a delicacy of sentiment one would scarcely expect to find in the character of so rude a people. (*Footnote. This plant has fruited also in England, but doubts are entertained of its being really a fragaria, By Dr. Smith it is termed a potentilla.) CHARACTER OF PEOPLE. Although the chiefs received us with hospitality yet the mass of people considered our intentions as hostile, and seemed jealous of our intrusion. Of their women however they were not at all jealous, and the familiarity of these was unrestrained. They entertained us with dances after their fashion, and made some rude attempts at performing a sort of pantomime. I may now close this detail with observing that the natives of this mountainous region have stronger animal spirits than those of the plains, and pass their lives with more variety than the torpid inhabitants of the coast; that they breathe a spirit of independence, and being frequently engaged in warfare, village against village, they would be better prepared to resist any invasion of their liberties. SUSPICIONS. They took great offence at a large package carried by six men which contained our necessaries, insisting that within it we had concealed a priuk api, for so they call a mortar or howitzer, one of which had been used with success against a village on the borders of their country during the rebellion of the son of the sultan of Moco-moco; and even when satisfied respecting this they manifested so much suspicion that we found it necessary to be constantly on our guard, and were once nearly provoked by their petulance and treachery to proceed to violence. When they found our determination they seemed humble, but were not even then to be trusted; and when we were on our return a friendly chief sent us intelligence that an ambuscade had been laid for us in one of the narrow passes of the mountains. We pursued our journey however without meeting any obstruction. ... On the subject of gold I have only to add to Mr. Campbell's information that, in the enumeration by the natives of places where there are gold-mines, Karinchi is always included. EXPEDITION TO INTERIOR COUNTRY. Opportunities of visiting the interior parts of the island have so seldom occurred, or are likely to occur, that I do not hesitate to present to the reader an abstract of the Journal kept by Lieutenant Hastings Dare (now a captain on the Bengal establishment) whilst commanding an expedition to the countries of Ipu, Serampei, and Sungei-tenang, which border to the south-east on that of Korinchi above described; making at the same time my acknowledgments to that gentleman for his obliging communication of the original, and my apologies for the brevity to which my subject renders it necessary to confine the narrative. ORIGIN OF DISTURBANCES. Sultan Asing, brother to the present sultan of Moco-moco, in conjunction with Pa Muncha and Sultan Sidi, two hill-chiefs his relations, residing at Pakalang-jambu and Jambi, raised a small force with which, in the latter part of the year 1804, they made a descent on Ipu, one of the Company's districts, burnt several villages and carried off a number of the inhabitants. The guard of native Malay troops not being sufficiently strong to check these depredations, a party was ordered from Fort Marlborough under the command of Lieutenant Hastings Dare, consisting of eighty-three sepoy officers and men, with five lascars, twenty­two Bengal convicts, and eighteen of the Bugis-guard; in the whole one hundred and twenty-eight. November 22 1804. Marched from Fort Marlborough, and December 3 arrived at Ipu. The roads extremely bad from the torrents of rain that fell. 4th. Mr. Hawthorne, the Resident, informed us that the enemy had fortified themselves at a place called Tabe-si-kuddi, but, on hearing of the approach of the detachment, had gone off to the hills in the Sungei­tenang country and fortified themselves at Koto Tuggoh, a village that had been a receptacle for all the vagabonds from the districts near the coast. 13th. Having procured coolies and provisions, for which we have been hitherto detained, quitted Ipu in an east-north-east direction, and passed through several pepper and rice plantations. At dusun Baru one of our people caught a fine large fish, called ikan gadis. 14th. Marched in a south-east direction; crossed several rivulets, and reached again the banks of Ipu river, which we crossed. It was about four feet deep and very rapid. Passed the night at dusun Arah. The country rather hilly; thermometer 88 degrees at noon. 15th. Reached dusun Tanjong, the last place in the Ipu district where rice or any other provision is to be found, and these were sent on from Talang Puttei, this place being deserted by its inhabitants, several of whom the enemy had carried off with them as slaves. The country very hilly, and roads, in consequence of the heavy rains, bad and slippery. 16th. Marched in a north and east direction. HOT SPRINGS. After crossing the Ayer Ikan stream twice we arrived at some hot springs, about three or four miles in the winding course we were obliged to take from dusun Tanjong, situated in a low swampy spot, about sixty yards in circumference. This is very hot in every part of it, excepting (which is very extraordinary) one place on its eastern side, where, although a hot spring is bubbling up within one yard of it, the water running from it is as cold as common spring water. In consequence of the excessive heat of the place and softness of the ground none of us could get close to the springs; but upon putting the thermometer within three yards of them it immediately rose to 120 degrees of Fahrenheit. We could not bear our fingers any time in the water. It tasted copperish and bitter; there was a strong sulphurous smell at the place, and a green sediment at the bottom and sides of the spring, with a reddish or copper-coloured scum floating on the surface. After again crossing the Ikan stream we arrived at dusun Simpang. The enemy had been here, and had burned nearly half of the village and carried off the inhabitants. The road from Tanjong to Simpang was entirely through a succession of pepper-gardens and rice plantations. We are now among the hills. Country in a higher state of cultivation than near the coast, but nearly deserted, and must soon become a waste. Could not get intelligence of the enemy. Built huts on Ayer Ikan at Napah Kapah. 17th. Marched in a south direction and crossed Ayer Tubbu, passing a number of durian trees on its bank. Again crossed the stream several times. Arrived early at Tabe-si-kuddi, a small talang, where the enemy had built three batteries or entrenchments and left behind them a quantity of grain, but vegetating and unfit for use. Previously to our reaching these entrenchments some of the detachment got wounded in the feet with ranjaus, set very thickly in the ground in every direction, and which obliged us to be very cautious in our steps until we arrived at the banks of a small rivulet, called the Nibong, two or three miles beyond them. RANJAUS. Ranjaus are slips of bamboo sharpened at each end, the part that is stuck in the ground being thicker than the opposite end, which decreases to a fine thin point, and is hardened by dipping it in oil and applying it to the smoke of a lamp near the flame. They are planted in the footpaths, sometimes erect, sometimes sloping, in small holes, or in muddy and miry places, and when trodden upon (for they are so well concealed as not to be easily seen) they pierce through the foot and make a most disagreeable wound, the bamboo leaving in it a rough hairy stuff it has on its outside, which irritates, inflames, and prevents it from healing. The whole of the road this day lay over a succession of steep hills, and in the latter part covered with deep forests. The whole of the detachment did not reach our huts on the bank of the Nibong stream till evening, much time being consumed in bringing on the mortar and magazine. Picked up pouches, musket stocks, etc., and saw new huts, near one of which was a quantity of clotted blood and a fresh grave. 18th. Proceeded east-north-east and passed several rivulets. Regained the banks of the Ipu river, running north-east to south-west here tolerably broad and shallow, being a succession of rapids over a rough stony bed. Encamped both this night and the last where the enemy had built huts. 19th. Marched in a north direction. More of the detachment wounded by ranjaus planted in the pathways. Roads slippery and bad from rains, and the hills so steep it is with difficulty we get the mortar and heavy baggage forward. Killed a green snake with black spots along its back, about four feet long, four to five inches in girt, and with a thick stumpy tail. The natives say its bite is venomous. Our course today has been north along the banks of the Ipu river; the noise of the rapids so great that when near it we can with difficulty hear each other speak. 20th. Continued along the river, crossing it several times. Came to a hot spring in the water of which the thermometer rose to 100 degrees at a considerable distance from its source. The road today tolerably level and good. LEECHES. We were much plagued by a small kind of leech, which dropped on us from the leaves of the trees, and got withinside our clothes. We were in consequence on our halting every day obliged to strip and bathe ourselves in order to detach them from our bodies, filled with the blood they had sucked from us. They were not above an inch in length, and before they fixed themselves as thin as a needle, so that they could penetrate our dress in any part. We encamped this evening at the conflux of the Simpang stream and Ipu river. Our huts were generally thatched with the puar or wild cardamum leaf, which grows in great abundance on the banks of the rivers in this part of the country. It bears a pleasant acid fruit, growing much in the same way as the maize. In long journeys through the woods, when other provisions fail, the natives live principally on this. The leaf is something like that of the plantain, but not nearly so large. 21st. Arrived at a spot called Dingau-benar, from whence we were obliged to return on account of the coolies not being able to descend a hill which was at least a hundred and fifty yards high, and nearly perpendicular. In effecting it we were obliged to cling to the trees and roots, without which assistance it would have been impracticable. It was nearly evening before one half of the detachment had reached the bottom, and it rained so excessively hard that we were obliged to remain divided for the night; the rear party on the top of the steep hill, and the advanced on the brow of another hill. One of the guides and a Malay coolie were drowned in attempting to find a ford across the Ipu river. I was a long time before we could get any fire, everything being completely soaked through, and the greater part of the poor fellows had not time to build huts for themselves. Military disposition for guarding baggage, preventing surprise, etc. 22nd. We had much difficulty in getting the mortar and its bed down, being obliged to make use of long thick rattans tied to them and successively to several trees. It was really admirable to observe the patience of the sepoys and Bengal convicts on this occasion. On mustering the coolies, found that nearly one half had run during the night, which obliged us to fling away twenty bags of rice, besides salt and other articles. Our course lay north, crossing the river several times. My poor faithful dog Gruff was carried away by the violence of the stream and lost. We were obliged to make bridges by cutting down tall trees, laying them across the stream, and interlacing them with rattans. We were now between two ranges of very high hills; on our right hand Bukit Pandang, seen from a great distance at sea; the road shockingly bad. Encamped on the western bank. 23rd. Marched in a north direction, the roads almost impassable. The river suddenly swelled so much that the rear party could not join the advanced, which was so fortunate as to occupy huts built by the enemy. There were fires in two of them. We were informed however that the Serampei and Sungei-tenang people often come this distance to catch fish, which they dry and carry back to their country. At certain times of the year great quantities of the ringkis and ikan-gadis are taken, besides a kind of large conger-eel. We frequently had fish when time would admit of the people catching them. It is impossible to describe the difficulties we had to encounter in consequence of the heavy rains, badness of the roads, and rapidity of the river. The sepoy officer and many men ill of fluxes and fevers, and lame with swelled and sore feet. 24th. Military precautions. Powder damaged. Thunder and lightning with torrents of rain. Almost the whole of the rice rotten or sour. 25th. Continued to march up the banks of the river. No inhabitants in this part of the country. IRREGULARITY OF COMPASS. The compass for these several days has been very irregular. We have two with us and they do not at all agree. The road less bad. At one place we saw bamboos of the thickness of a man's thigh. There were myriads of very small flies this evening, which teased us much. Occupied some huts we found on the eastern bank. This is Christmas evening; to us, God knows, a dull one. Our wines and liquors nearly expended, and we have but one miserable half-starved chicken left although we have been on short allowance the whole way. 26th. Roads tolerable. Passed a spot called Kappah, and soon after a waterfall named Ipu-machang, about sixty feet high. Picked up a sick man belonging to the enemy. He informed us that there were between two and three hundred men collected at Koto Tuggoh, under the command of Sutan Sidi, Sutan Asing, and Pa Muncha. These three chiefs made a festival, killing buffaloes, as is usual with the natives of Sumatra on such occasions, at this place, and received every assistance from the principal Dupati, who is also father-in-law to Pa Muncha. They possess sixty stand of muskets, beside blunderbusses and wall-pieces. They had quitted the Company's districts about twenty-three days ago, and are gone, some to Koto Tuggoh, and others to Pakalang-jambu. 27th. Marched in a north-north-east direction; passed over a steep hill which took us three hours hard walking. The river is now very narrow and rapid, not above twelve feet across; it is a succession of waterfalls every three or four yards. After this our road was intricate, winding, and bad. We had to ascend a high chasm formed in the rock, which was effected by ladders from one shelf to another. Arrived at the foot of Bukit Pandang, where we found huts, and occupied them for the night. We have been ascending the whole of this day. Very cold and rainy. At night we were glad to make large fires and use our blankets and woollen clothes. Having now but little rice left we were obliged to put ourselves to an allowance of one bamboo or gallon measure among ten men; and the greater part of that rotten. ASCEND A HIGH MOUNTAIN. 28th. Ascended Bukit Pandang in an east-north-east direction. Reached a small spring of water called Pondo Kubang, the only one to be met with till the hill is descended. About two miles from the top, and from thence all the way up, the trees and ground were covered very thick with moss; the trees much stunted, and altogether the appearance was barren and gloomy; to us particularly so, for we could find little or nothing wherewith to build our huts, nor procure a bit of dry wood to light a fire. In order to make one for dressing the victuals, Lieutenant Dare was compelled to break up one of his boxes, otherwise he and Mr. Alexander, the surgeon, must have eaten them raw. It rained hard all night, and the coolies and most of the party were obliged to lie down on the wet ground in the midst of it. MEN DIE FROM SEVERITY OF THE WEATHER. It was exceedingly cold to our feelings; in the evening the thermometer was down to 50 degrees, and in the night to 45 degrees. In consequence of the cold, inclemency, and fatigue to which the coolies were exposed, seven of them died that night. The lieutenant and surgeon made themselves a kind of shelter with four tarpaulins that were fortunately provided to cover the medicine chest and surgical instruments, but the place was so small that it scarcely held them both. In the evening when the former was sitting on his camp­stool, whilst the people were putting up the tarpaulins, a very small bird, perfectly black, came hopping about the stool, picking up the worms from the moss. It was so tame and fearless that it frequently perched itself on his foot and on different parts of the stool; which shows that these parts of the country must be very little frequented by human beings. 29th. Descended Bukit Pandang. Another coolie died this morning. We are obliged to fling away shells. After walking some time many of the people recovered, as it was principally from cold and damps they suffered. Crossed a stream called Inum where we saw several huts. In half an hour more arrived at the banks of the greater Ayer Dikit River, which is here shallow, rapid, and about eighty yards broad. We marched westerly along its banks, and reached a hut opposite to a spot called Rantau Kramas, where we remained for the night, being prevented from crossing by a flood. 30th. Cut down a large tree and threw it across the river; it reached about halfway over. With this and the assistance of rattans tied to the opposite side we effected our passage and arrived at Rantau Kramas. Sent off people to Ranna Alli, one of the Serampei villages, about a day's march from hence, for provisions. Thermometer 59 degrees. The greater Ayer Dikit river, on the north side of which this place lies, runs nearly from east to west. There are four or five bamboo huts at it, for the temporary habitation of travellers passing and repassing this way, being in the direction from the Serampei to the Sungei-tenang country. These huts are covered with bamboos (in plenty here) split and placed like pantiles transversely over each other, forming, when the bamboos are well-grown, a capital and lasting roof (see above). 31st. A Malay man and woman taken by our people report that the enemy thirteen days ago had proceeded two days march beyond Koto Tuggoh. Received some provisions from Ranna Alli. The enemy, we are informed, have dug holes and put long stakes into them, set spring-spears, and planted the road very thickly with ranjaus, and were collecting their force at Koto Tuggoh (signifying the strong fortress) to receive us. 1805. January 1st and 2nd. Received some small supplies of provisions. COME UP WITH THE ENEMY. On the 3rd we were saluted by shouting and firing of the enemy from the heights around us. Parties were immediately sent off in different directions as the nature of the ground allowed. ATTACK. The advanced party had only time to fire two rounds when the enemy retired to a strong position on the top of a steep hill where they had thrown up a breastwork, which they disputed for a short time. On our getting possession of it they divided into three parties and fled. We had one sepoy killed and several of the detachment wounded by the ranjaus. Many of the enemy were killed and wounded and the paths they had taken covered with blood; but it is impossible to tell their numbers as they always carry them off the moment they drop, considering it a disgrace to leave them on the field of battle. If they get any of the bodies of their enemies they immediately strike off the head and fix it on a long pole, carrying it to their village as a trophy, and addressing to it every sort of abusive language. Those taken alive in battle are made slaves. After completely destroying everything in the battery we marched, and arrived at the top of a very high hill, where we built our huts for the evening. The road was thickly planted with ranjaus which, with the heavy rains, impeded our progress and prevented us from reaching a place called Danau-pau. Our course today has been north-east and easterly, the roads shockingly bad, and we were obliged to leave behind several coolies and two sepoys who were unable to accompany us. 4th. Obliged to fling away the bullets of the cartridges, three-fourths of which were damaged, and other articles. Most of the detachment sick with fluxes and fevers, or wounded in the feet. Marched in an eastern direction. Reached a spot very difficult to pass, being knee-deep in mud for a considerable way, with ranjaus concealed in the mud, and spring-spears set in many places. We were obliged to creep through a thicket of canes and bamboos. About noon the advanced party arrived at a lake and discovered that the enemy were on the opposite side of a small stream that ran from the lake, where they had entrenched themselves behind four small batteries in a most advantageous position, being on the top of a steep hill, of difficult access, with the stream on one side, the lake on the other, and the other parts surrounded by a swamp. ENTRENCHMENTS ATTACKED AND CARRIED. We immediately commenced the attack, but were unable, from the number of ranjaus in the only accessible part, to make a push on to the enemy. However about one o'clock we effected our purpose, and completely got possession of the entrenchments, which, had they been properly defended, must have cost us more than the half of our detachment. We had four sepoys severely wounded, and almost the whole of our feet dreadfully cut. Numbers of the enemy were killed and wounded. They defended each of the batteries with some obstinacy against our fire, but when once we came near them they could not stand our arms, and ran in every direction. At this place there are no houses nor inhabitants, but only temporary huts, built by the Sungei-tenang people, who come here occasionally to fish. The lake, which is named Danau-pau, has a most beautiful appearance, being like a great amphitheatre, surrounded by high and steep mountains covered with forests. It is about two miles in diameter. We occupied some huts built by the enemy. The place is thickly surrounded with bamboos. MOTIVES FOR RETURNING TO THE COAST. In consequence of the number of our sick and wounded, the small strength of coolies to carry their baggage, and the want of medicines and ammunition, as well as of provisions, we thought it advisable to return to Rantau Kramas; and to effect this we were obliged to fling away the mortar-bed, shells, and a number of other things. We marched at noon, and arrived in the evening at the top of the hill where we had before encamped, and remained for the night. 6th. Reached Rantau Kramas. 7th. Marching in torrents of rain. People exceedingly harassed, reduced, and emaciated. Relieved by the arrival of Serampei people with some provisions from Ranna Alli. 8th. After a most fatiguing march arrived at that place half-dead with damps and cold. The bearers of the litters for the sick were absolutely knocked up, and we were obliged to the sepoys for getting on as we did. Our route was north-west with little variation. 9th. Remained at Ranna Alli. This serampei village consists of about fifteen houses, and may contain a hundred and fifty or two hundred inhabitants. It is thickly planted all round with a tall hedge of live bamboos, on the outside of which ranjaus are planted to the distance of thirty or forty feet. Withinside of the hedge there is a bamboo pagar or paling. It is situated on a steep hill surrounded by others, which in many places are cleared to their tops, where the inhabitants have their ladangs or rice plantations. They appeared to be a quiet, inoffensive set of people; their language different from the Malayan, which most of them spoke, but very imperfectly and hardly to be understood by us. On our approach the women and children ran to their ladangs, being, as their husbands informed us, afraid of the sepoys. GOITRES. Of the women whom we saw almost every one had the goitres or swellings under the throat; and it seemed to be more prevalent with these than with the men. One woman in particular had two protuberances dangling at her neck as big as quart bottles. There are three dupatis and four mantris to this village, to whom we made presents, and afterwards to the wives and families of the inhabitants. 10th and 11th. Preparing for our march to Moco-moco, where we can recruit our force, and procure supplies of stores and ammunition. 12th. Marched in a north and north-west direction. HANGING BRIDGE. Passed over a bridge of curious construction across the Ayer Abu River. It was formed of bamboos tied together with iju ropes and suspended to the trees, whose branches stretched nearly over the stream. The Serampei women are the worst-favoured creatures we ever saw, and uncouth in their manners. Arrived at Tanjong Kasiri, another fortified village, more populous than Ranna Alli. 13th. The sick and heavy baggage were ordered to Tanjong Agung, another Serampei village. HOT SPRINGS. 14th. Arrived at Ayer Grau or Abu, a small river, within a yard or two of which we saw columns of smoke issuing from the earth, where there were hot springs of water bubbling up in a number of places. The stream was quite warm for several yards, and the ground and stones were so hot that there was no standing on them for any length of time. The large pieces of quartz, pumice, and other stones apparently burnt, induce us to suppose there must have formerly been a volcano at this spot, which is a deep vale, surrounded by high hills. Arrived much fatigued at Tanjong Agung, where the head dupati received us in his best style. COCONUTS. He seemed to know more of European customs and manners than those whom we have hitherto met with, and here, for the first time since quitting the Ipu district, we got coconuts, which he presented to us. CASSIA. We saw numbers of cassia-trees in our march today. The bark, which the natives brought us in quantities, is sweet, but thick and coarse, and much inferior to cinnamon. This is the last and best fortified village in the Serampei country, bordering on the forests between that and Anak-Sungei. PECULIAR REGULATION. They have a custom here of never allowing any animal to be killed in any part of the village but the balei or town hall, unless the person wishing to do otherwise consents to pay a fine of one fathom of cotton cloth to the priest for his permission. The old dupati told us there had been formerly a great deal of sickness and bloodshed in the village, and it had been predicted that, unless this custom were complied with, the like would happen again. We paid the fine, had the prayers of the priest, and killed our goats where and as we pleased. 16th. Marched in a south-westerly direction, and, after passing many steep hills, reached the lesser Ayer Dikit River, which we crossed, and built our huts on its western bank. 17th. Marched in a west, and afterwards a south, direction; the roads, in consequence of the rain ceasing today, tolerably dry and good, but over high hills. Arrived at Ayer Prikan, and encamped on its western bank; its course north and south over a rough, stony bed; very rapid, and about thirty yards across, at the foot of Bukit Lintang. Saw today abundance of cassia­trees. 18th. Proceeded to ascend Bukit Lintang, which in the first part was excessively steep and fatiguing; our route north and north-west when descending, south-south-west. Arrived at one of the sources of the Sungei-ipu. Descending still farther we reached a small spring where we built our huts. 19th. On our march this day we were gratified by the receipt of letters from our friends at Bencoolen, by the way of Moco-moco, from whence the Resident, Mr. Russell, sent us a supply of wine and other refreshments, which we had not tasted for fourteen days. Our course lay along the banks of the Sungei-ipu, and we arrived at huts prepared for us by Mr. Russell. 20th. At one time our guide lost the proper path by mistaking for it the track of a rhinoceros (which are in great numbers in these parts), and we got into a place where we were teased with myriads of leeches. Our road, excepting two or three small hills, was level and good. Reached the confluence of the Ipu and Si Luggan Rivers, the latter of which rises in the Korinchi country. Passed Gunong Payong, the last hill, as we approached Moco-moco, near to which had been a village formerly burnt and the inhabitants made slaves by Pa Muncha and the then tuanku mudo (son of the sultan). 21st. Arrived at talang Rantau Riang, the first Moco-moco or Anak-Sungei village, where we found provisions dressed for us. At dusun Si Ballowe, to which our road lay south-easterly, through pepper and rice plantations, sampans were in readiness to convey us down the river. This place is remarkable for an arau tree (casuarina), the only one met with at such a distance from the sea. The country is here level in comparison with what we have passed through, and the soil rather sandy, with a mixture of red clay. 22nd. The course of the river is south-west and west with many windings. Arrived at Moco-moco. DESCRIPTION OF MOCO-MOCO. Fort Ann lies on the southern and the settlement on the northern side of the Si Luggan River, which name belongs properly to the place also, and that of Moco-moco to a small village higher up. The bazaar consists of about one hundred houses, all full of children. At the northern end is the sultan's, which has nothing particular to distinguish it, but only its being larger than other Malay houses. Great quantities of fish are procured at this place, and sold cheap. The trade is principally with the hill-people, in salt, piece-goods, iron, steel, and opium; for which the returns are provisions, timber, and a little gold-dust. Formerly there was a trade carried on with the Padang and other ate angin people, but it is now dropped. The soil is sandy, low, and flat. EXPEDITION RESUMED. It being still necessary to make an example of the Sungei-tenang people for assisting the three hostile chiefs in their depredations, in order thereby to deter others from doing the same in future, and the men being now recovered from their fatigue and furnished with the requisite supplies, the detachment began to march on the 9th of February for Ayer Dikit. It now consists of Lieutenant Dare, Mr. Alexander, surgeon, seventy sepoys, including officers, twenty-seven lascars and Bengal convicts, and eleven of the bugis-guard. Left the old mortar and took with us one of smaller calibre. ACCOUNT OF SERAMPEI COUNTRY AND PEOPLE. From the 10th to the 22nd occupied in our march to the Serampei village of Ranna Alli. The people of this country acknowledge themselves the subjects of the sultan of Jambi, who sometimes but rarely exacts a tribute from them of a buffalo, a tail of gold, and a hundred bamboos of rice from each village. They are accustomed to carry burdens of from sixty to ninety pounds weight on journeys that take them twenty or thirty days; and it astonishes a lowlander to see with what ease they walk over these hills, generally going a shuffling or ambling pace. Their loads are placed in a long triangular basket, supported by a fillet across the forehead, resting upon the back and back part of the head, the broadest end of the triangle being uppermost, considerably above the head, and the small end coming down as low as the loins. The Serampei country, comprehending fifteen fortified and independent dusuns, beside talangs or small open villages, is bounded on the north and north-west by Korinchi, on the east, south-east, and south by Pakalang-jambu and Sungei-tenang, and on the west and south-west by the greater Ayer Dikit River and chain of high mountains bordering on the Sungei-ipu country. 23rd. Reached Rantau Kramas. Took possession of the batteries, which the enemy had considerably improved in our absence, collecting large quantities of stones; but they were not manned, probably from not expecting our return so soon. 24th. Arrived at those of Danau-pau, which had also been strengthened. The roads being dry and weather fine we are enabled to make tolerably long marches. Our advanced party nearly caught one of the enemy planting ranjaus, and in retreating he wounded himself with them. 25th. Passed many small rivulets discharging themselves into the lake at this place. COME UP WITH THE ENEMY. 26th. The officer commanding the advanced party sent word that the enemy were at a short distance ahead; that they had felled a number of trees to obstruct the road, and had thrown an entrenchment across it, extending from one swamp and precipice to another, where they waited to receive us. When the whole of the detachment had come up we marched on to the attack, scrambled over the trees, and with great difficulty got the mortar over. FIRST ATTACK FAILS. The first onset was not attended with success, and our men were dropping fast, not being able to advance on account of the ranjaus, which almost pinned their feet to the ground. Seeing that the entrenchments were not to be carried in front, a subedar with thirty sepoys and the bugis-guard were ordered to endeavour to pass the swamp on the right, find out a pathway, and attack the enemy on the flank and rear, while the remainder should, on a preconcerted signal, make an attack on the front at the same time. To prevent the enemy from discovering our intentions the drums were kept beating, and a few random shots fired. Upon the signal being given a general attack commenced, and our success was complete. ENTRENCHMENTS CARRIED. The enemy, of whom there were, as we reckon, three or four hundred within the entrenchments, were soon put to the rout, and, after losing great numbers, among whom was the head dupati, a principal instigator of the disturbances, fled in all directions. We lost two sepoys killed and seven wounded, beside several much hurt by the ranjaus. The mortar played during the time, but is not supposed to have done much execution on account of the surrounding trees. THEIR CONSTRUCTION. The entrenchments were constructed of large trees laid horizontally between stakes driven into the ground, about seven feet high, with loopholes for firing. Being laid about six feet thick, a cannonball could not have penetrated. They extended eighty or ninety yards. The headman's quarters were a large tree hollowed at the root. As soon as litters could be made for the wounded, and the killed were buried, we continued our march in an eastern direction, and in about an hour arrived at another battery, which however was not defended. In front of this the enemy had tied a number of long sharp stakes to a stone, which was suspended to the bough of a tree, and by swinging it their plan was to wound us. ARRIVE AT A STREAM RUNNING INTO THE JAMBI RIVER. Crossed the Tambesi rivulet, flowing from south to north, and one of the contributary streams to the Jambi River, which discharges itself into the sea on the eastern side of the Island. Built our huts near a field of maize and padi. KOTO TUGGOH. 27th. Marched to Koto Tuggoh, from whence the inhabitants fled on our throwing one shell and firing a few muskets, and we took possession of the place. It is situated on a high hill, nearly perpendicular on three sides, the easiest entrance being on the west, but it is there defended by a ditch seven fathoms deep and five wide. The place contains the ballei and about twenty houses, built in general of plank very neatly put together, and carved; and some of them were also roofed with planks or shingles about two feet long and one broad. The others with the leaves of the puar or cardamum, which are again very thinly covered with iju. This is said to last long, but harbours vermin, as we experienced. When we entered the village we met with only one person, who was deformed, dumb, and had more the appearance of a monkey than a human creature. DESTROYED. ENTER KOTO BHARU. March 1st. After completely destroying Koto Tuggoh we marched in a north and afterwards an east direction, and arrived at Koto Bharu. The head dupati requesting a parley, it was granted, and, on our promising not to injure his village, he allowed us to take possession of it. We found in the place a number of Batang Asei and other people, armed with muskets, blunderbusses, and spears. At our desire, he sent off people to the other Sungei-tenang villages to summon their chiefs to meet us if they chose to show themselves friends, or otherwise we should proceed against them as we had done against Koto Tuggoh. PEACE CONCLUDED. This dupati was a respectable-looking old man, and tears trickled down his cheeks when matters were amicably settled between us: indeed for some time he could hardly be convinced of it, and repeatedly asked, "Are we friends?" 2nd. The chiefs met as desired, and after a short conversation agreed to all that we proposed. Papers were thereupon drawn up and signed and sworn to under the British colours. After this a shell was thrown into the air at the request of the chiefs, who were desirous of witnessing the sight. MODE OF TAKING AN OATH. Their method of swearing was as follows: The young shoots of the anau-tree were made into a kind of rope, with the leaves hanging, and this was attached to four stakes stuck in the ground, forming an area of five or six feet square, within which a mat was spread, where those about to take the oath seated themselves. A small branch of the prickly bamboo was planted in the area also, and benzoin was kept burning during the ceremony. The chiefs then laid their hands on the koran, held to them by a priest, and one of them repeated to the rest the substance of the oath, who, at the pauses he made, gave a nod of assent; after which they severally said, "may the earth become barren, the air and water poisonous, and may dreadful calamities fall on us and our posterity, if we do not fulfil what we now agree to and promise." ACCOUNT OF SUNGEI-TENANG COUNTRY. We met here with little or no fruit excepting plantains and pineapples, and these of an indifferent sort. The general produce of the country was maize, padi, potatoes, sweet-potatoes, tobacco, and sugar-cane. The principal part of their clothing was procured from the eastern side of the island. They appear to have no regular season for sowing the grain, and we saw plantations where in one part they had taken in the crop, in another part it was nearly ripe, in a third not above five inches high, and in a fourth they had but just prepared the ground for sowing. Upon the whole, there appeared more cultivation than near the coast. MANNERS OF PEOPLE. It is a practice with many individuals among these people (as with mountaineers in some parts of Europe) to leave their country in order to seek employment where they can find it, and at the end of three or four years revisit their native soil, bringing with them the produce of their labours. If they happen to be successful they become itinerant merchants, and travel to almost all parts of the island, particularly where fairs are held, or else purchase a matchlock gun and become soldiers of fortune, hiring themselves to whoever will pay them, but always ready to come forward in defence of their country and families. They are a thick stout dark race of people, something resembling the Achinese; and in general they are addicted to smoking opium. We had no opportunity of seeing the Sungei-tenang women. The men are very fantastical in their dress. Their bajus have the sleeves blue perhaps whilst the body is white, with stripes of red or any other colour over the shoulders, and their short breeches are generally one half blue and the other white, just as fancy leads them. Others again are dressed entirely in blue cotton cloth, the same as the inhabitants of the west coast. The bag containing their sirih or betel hangs over the shoulder by a string, if it may be so termed, of brass wire. Many of them have also twisted brass wire round the waist, in which they stick their krises. CHARMS. They commonly carry charms about their persons to preserve them from accidents; one of which was shown to us, printed (at Batavia or Samarang in Java) in Dutch, Portuguese, and French. It purported that the writer was acquainted with the occult sciences, and that whoever possessed one of the papers impressed with his mark (which was the figure of a hand with the thumb and fingers extended) was invulnerable and free from all kinds of harm. It desired the people to be very cautious of taking any such printed in London (where certainly none were ever printed), as the English would endeavour to counterfeit them and to impose on the purchasers, being all cheats. (Whether we consider this as a political or a mercantile speculation it is not a little extraordinary and ridiculous). The houses here, as well as in the Serampei country, are all built on posts of what they call paku gajah (elephant-fern, Chamaerops palma, Lour.), a tree something resembling a fern, and when full-grown a palm-tree. It is of a fibrous nature, black, and lasts for a great length of time. Every dusun has a ballei or town hall, about a hundred and twenty feet long and proportionably broad, the woodwork of which is neatly carved. The dwelling-houses contain five, six, or seven families each, and the country is populous. The inhabitants both of Sungei-tenang and Serampei are Mahometans, and acknowledge themselves subjects of Jambi. The former country, so well as we were able to ascertain, is bounded on the north and north-west by Korinchi and Serampei, on the west and south-west by the Anak-sungei or Moco-moco and Ipu districts, on the south by Labun, and on the east by Batang Asei and Pakalang-jambu. 3rd. Marched on our return to the coast, many of the principal people attending us as far as the last of their plantations. It rained hard almost the whole of this day. RETURN TO THE COAST. On the 14th arrived at Moco-moco; on the 22nd proceeded for Bencoolen, and arrived there on the 30th March 1805, after one of the most fatiguing and harassing expeditions any detachment of troops ever served upon; attended with the sickness of the whole of the party, and the death of many, particularly of Mr. Alexander, the surgeon. End of Lieutenant Dare's narrative. It is almost unnecessary to observe that these were the consequences of the extreme impolicy of sending an expedition up the country in the heart of the rainy season. The public orders issued on the occasion were highly creditable to Lieutenant Dare. CHAPTER 18. MALAYAN STATES. ANCIENT EMPIRE OF MENANGKABAU. ORIGIN OF THE MALAYS AND GENERAL ACCEPTATION OF NAME. EVIDENCES OF THEIR MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA. SUCCESSION OF MALAYAN PRINCES. PRESENT STATE OF THE EMPIRE. TITLES OF THE SULTAN. CEREMONIES. CONVERSION TO MAHOMETAN RELIGION. LITERATURE. ARTS. WARFARE. GOVERNMENT. MALAYAN STATES. I shall now take a more particular view of the Malayan states, as distinguished from those of the people termed orang ulu or countrymen, and orang dusun or villagers, who, not being generally converted to the Mahometan religion, have thereby preserved a more original character. EMPIRE OF MENANGKABAU. The principal government, and whose jurisdiction in ancient times is understood to have comprehended the whole of Sumatra, is Menangkabau,* situated under the equinoctial line, beyond the western range of high mountains, and nearly in the centre of the island; in which respect it differs from Malayan establishments in other parts, which are almost universally near the mouths of large rivers. The appellations however of orang menangkabau and orang malayo are so much identified that, previously to entering upon an account of the former, it will be useful to throw as much light as possible upon the latter, and to ascertain to what description of people the name of Malays, bestowed by Europeans upon all who resemble them in features and complexion, properly belongs. (*Footnote. The name is said to be derived from the words menang, signifying to win, and karbau, a buffalo; from a story, carrying a very fabulous air, of a famous engagement on that spot between the buffaloes and tigers, in which the former are stated to have acquired a complete victory. Such is the account the natives give; but they are fond of dealing in fiction, and the etymology has probably no better foundation than a fanciful resemblance of sound.) ORIGIN OF MALAYS. It has hitherto been considered as an obvious truth, and admitted without examination that, wherever they are found upon the numerous islands forming this archipelago, they or their ancestors must have migrated from the country named by Europeans (and by them alone) the Malayan peninsula or peninsula of Malacca, of which the indigenous and proper inhabitants were understood to be Malays; and accordingly in the former editions of this work I spoke of the natives of Menangkabau as having acquired their religion, language, manners, and other national characteristics from the settling among them of genuine Malays from the neighbouring continent. It will however appear from the authorities I shall produce, amounting as nearly to positive evidence as the nature of the subject will admit, that the present possessors of the coasts of the peninsula were on the contrary in the first instance adventurers from Sumatra, who in the twelfth century formed an establishment there, and that the indigenous inhabitants, gradually driven by them to the woods and mountains, so far from being the stock from whence the Malays were propagated, are an entirely different race of men, nearly approaching in their physical character to the negroes of Africa. MIGRATION FROM SUMATRA. The evidences of this migration from Sumatra are chiefly found in two Malayan books well known, by character at least, to those who are conversant with the written language, the one named Taju assalatin or Makuta segala raja-raja, The Crown of all Kings, and the other, more immediately to the purpose, Sulalat assalatin or Penurun-an segala raja­raja, The Descent of all (Malayan) Kings. Of these it has not been my good fortune to obtain copies, but the contents, so far as they apply to the present subject, have been fully detailed by two eminent Dutch writers to whom the literature of this part of the East was familiar. Petrus van der Worm first communicated the knowledge of these historical treatises in his learned Introduction to the Malayan Vocabulary of Gueynier, printed at Batavia in the year 1677; and extracts to the same effect were afterwards given by Valentyn in Volume 5 pages 316 to 320 of his elaborate work, published at Amsterdam in 1726. The books are likewise mentioned in a list of Malayan Authors by G.H. Werndly, at the end of his Maleische Spraak-kunst, and by the ingenious Dr. Leyden in his Paper on the Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese Nations, recently published in Volume 10 of the Asiatic Researches. The substance of the information conveyed by them is as follows; and I trust it will not be thought that the mixture of a portion of mythological fable in accounts of this nature invalidates what might otherwise have credit as historical fact. The utmost indeed we can pretend to ascertain is what the natives themselves believe to have been their ancient history; and it is proper to remark that in the present question there can be no suspicion of bias from national vanity, as we have reason to presume that the authors of these books were not Sumatrans. The original country inhabited by the Malayan race (according to these authorities) was the kingdom of Palembang in the island of Indalus, now Sumatra, on the river Malayo, which flows by the mountain named Maha-meru, and discharges itself into the river Tatang (on which Palembang stands) before it joins the sea. Having chosen for their king or leader a prince named Sri Turi Buwana, who boasted his descent from Iskander the Great, and to whom, on that account, their natural chief Demang Lebar Daun submitted his authority, they emigrated, under his command (about the year 1160), to the south-eastern extremity of the opposite peninsula, named Ujong Tanah, where they were at first distinguished by the appellation of orang de-bawah angin or the Leeward people, but in time the coast became generally known by that of Tanah malayo or the Malayan land. SINGAPURA BUILT. In this situation they built their first city, which they called Singapura (vulgarly Sincapore), and their rising consequence excited the jealousy of the kings of Maja-pahit, a powerful state in the island of Java. To Sri Turi Buwana, who died in 1208, succeeded Paduka Pikaram Wira, who reigned fifteen years; to him Sri Rama Vikaram, who reigned thirteen, and to him Sri Maharaja, who reigned twelve. MALAKA BUILT. His successor, Sri Iskander Shah, was the last king of Singapura. During three years he withstood the forces of the king of Maja-pahit, but in 1252, being hard pressed, he retired first to the northward, and afterwards to the western, coast of the peninsula, where in the following year he founded a new city, which under his wise government became of considerable importance. To this he gave the name of Malaka, from a fruit-bearing tree so called (myrabolanum) found in abundance on the hill which gives natural strength to the situation. Having reigned here twenty-two years, beloved by his subjects and feared by his neighbours, Iskander Shah died in 1274, and was succeeded by Sultan Magat, who reigned only two years. Up to this period the Malayan princes were pagans. Sultan Muhammed Shah, who ascended the throne in 1276, was the first Mahometan prince, and by the propagation of this faith acquired great celebrity during a long reign of fifty-seven years. His influence appears to have extended over the neighbouring islands of Lingga and Bintan, together with Johor, Patani, Kedah, and Perak, on the coasts of the peninsula, and Campar and Aru in Sumatra; all of which acquired the appellative of Malayo, although it was now more especially applied to the people of Malaka, or, as it is commonly written, Malacca. He left the peaceful possession of his dominions to his son Sultan Abu Shahid, who had reigned only one year and five months when he was murdered in 1334 by the king of Arrakan, with whose family his father had contracted a marriage. His successor was Sultan Modafar or Mozafar Shah, who was distinguished for the wisdom of his government, of which he left a memorial in a Book of Institutes or Laws of Malaka, held to this day in high estimation. This city was now regarded as the third in rank (after Maja-pahit on Java, and Pase on Sumatra) in that part of the East. (*Footnote. The account given by Juan de Barros of the abandonment of the Malayan city of Singapura and foundation of Malacca differs materially from the above; and although the authority of a writer, who collected his materials in Lisbon, cannot be put in competition with that of Valentyn, who passed a long and laborious life amongst the people, and quotes the native historians, I shall give an abstract of his relation, from the sixth book of the second Decade. "At the period when Cingapura flourished its king was named Sangesinga; and in the neighbouring island of Java reigned Pararisa, upon whose death the latter country became subject to the tyranny of his brother, who put one of his nephews to death, and forced many of the nobles, who took part against him, to seek refuge abroad. Among these was one named Paramisora, whom Sangesinga received with hospitality that was badly requited, for the stranger soon found means to put him to death, and, by the assistance of the Javans who accompanied him in his flight, to take possession of the city. The king of Siam, whose son-in-law and vassal the deceased was, assembled a large force by sea and land, and compelled the usurper to evacuate Cingapura with two thousand followers, a part of whom were Cellates (orang sellat men of the Straits) accustomed to live by fishing and piracy, who had assisted him in seizing and keeping the throne during five years. They disembarked at a place called Muar, a hundred and fifty leagues from thence, where Paramisora and his own people fortified themselves. The Cellates, whom he did not choose to trust, proceeded five leagues farther, and occupied a bank of the river where the fortress of Malacca now stands. Here they united with the half-savage natives, who like themselves spoke the Malayan language, and, the spot they had chosen becoming too confined for their increasing numbers, they moved a league higher up, to one more convenient, and were at length joined by their former chief and his companions. During the government of his son, named Xaquen Darxa (a strange Portuguese corruption of Iskander or Sekander Shah) they again descended the river, in order to enjoy the advantages of a sea-port, and built a town, which, from the fortunes of his father, was named Malacca, signifying an exile." Every person conversant with the language must know that the word does not bear that nor any similar meaning, and an error so palpable throws discredit on the whole narrative.) About the year 1340 the king of Siam, being jealous of the growing power of Malaka, invaded the country, and in a second expedition laid siege to the capital; but his armies were defeated by the general of Modafar, named Sri Nara Dirija. After these events Modafar reigned some years with much reputation, and died in 1374. His son, originally named Sultan Abdul, took the title of Sultan Mansur Shah upon his accession. At the time that the king of Maja-pahit drove the Malays from Singapura, as above related, he likewise subdued the country of Indragiri in Sumatra; but upon the occasion of Mansur Shah's marriage (about the year 1380) with the daughter of the then reigning king, a princess of great celebrity, named Radin Gala Chendra Kiran, it was assigned to him as her portion, and has since continued (according to Valentyn) under the dominion of the princes of Malaka. Mansur appears to have been engaged in continual wars, and to have obtained successes against Pahang, Pase, and Makasar. His reign extended to the almost incredible period of seventy-three years, being succeeded in 1447 by his son Sultan Ala-wa-eddin. During his reign of thirty years nothing particular is recorded; but there is reason to believe that his country during some part of that time was under the power of the Siamese. Sultan Mahmud Shah, who succeeded him, was the twelfth Malayan king, and the seventh and last king of Malaka. JOHOR FOUNDED. In 1509 he repelled the aggression of the king of Siam; but in 1511 was conquered by the Portuguese under Alfonso d'Alboquerque, and forced, with the principal inhabitants, to fly to the neighbourhood of the first Malayan establishment at the extremity of the peninsula, where he founded the city of Johor, which still subsists, but has never attained to any considerable importance, owing as it may be presumed to the European influence that has ever since, under the Portuguese, Hollanders, and English, predominated in that quarter.* (*Footnote. It was subdued by the Portuguese in 1608. In 1641 Malacca was taken from them by the Hollanders, who held it till the present war, which has thrown it into the possession of the English. The interior boundaries of its territory, according to the Transactions of the Batavian Society, are the mountains of Rombou, inhabited by a Malayan people named Maning Cabou, and Mount Ophir, called by the natives Gunong-Ledang. These limits, say they, it is impracticable for a European to pass, the whole coast, for some leagues from the sea, being either a morass or impenetrable forest; and these natural difficulties are aggravated by the treacherous and bloodthirsty character of the natives. The description, which will be found in Volume 4 pages 333 to 334, is evidently overcharged. In speaking of Johor the original emigration of a Malayan colony from Sumatra to the mouth of that river, which gave its name to the whole coast, is briefly mentioned.) ANCIENT RELIGION. With respect to the religion professed by the Malayan princes at the time of their migration from Sumatra, and for about 116 years after, little can be known, because the writers, whose works have reached us, lived since the period of conversion, and as good Mahometans would have thought it profane to enter into the detail of superstitions which they regard with abhorrence; but from the internal evidence we can entertain little doubt of its having been the religion of Brahma, much corrupted however and blended with the antecedent rude idolatry of the country, such as we now find it amongst the Battas. Their proper names or titles are obviously Hindu, with occasional mixture of Persian, and their mountain of Maha-meru, elsewhere so well known as the seat of Indra and the dewas, sufficiently points out the mythology adopted in the country. I am not aware that at the present day there is any mountain in Sumatra called by that name; but it is reasonable to presume that appellations decidedly connected with Paganism may have been changed by the zealous propagators of the new faith, and I am much inclined to believe that by the Maha-meru of the Malays is to be understood the mountain of Sungei-pagu in the Menangkabau country, from whence issue rivers that flow to both sides of the island. In the neighbourhood of this reside the chiefs of the four great tribes, called ampat suku or four quarters, one of which is named Malayo (the others, Kampi, Pani, and Tiga-lara); and it is probable that to it belonged the adventurers who undertook the expedition to Ujong Tanah, and perpetuated the name of their particular race in the rising fortunes of the new colony. From what circumstances they were led to collect their vessels for embarkation at Palembang rather than at Indragiri or Siak, so much more convenient in point of local position, cannot now be ascertained. Having proposed some queries upon this subject to the late Mr. Francis Light, who first settled the island of Pinang or Prince of Wales island, in the Straits of Malacca, granted to him by the king of Kedah as the marriage portion of his daughter, he furnished me in answer with the following notices. "The origin of the Malays, like that of other people, is involved in fable; every raja is descended from some demigod, and the people sprung from the ocean. According to their traditions however their first city of Singapura, near the present Johor, was peopled from Palembang, from whence they proceeded to settle at Malacca (naming their city from the fruit so called), and spread along the coast. The peninsula is at present inhabited by distinct races of people. The Siamese possess the northern part to latitude 7 degrees, extending from the east to the west side. The Malays possess the whole of the sea-coast on both sides, from that latitude to Point Romania; being mixed in some places with the Bugis from Celebes, who have still a small settlement at Salmigor. The inland parts to the northward are inhabited by the Patani people, who appear to be a mixture of Siamese and Malays, and occupy independent dusuns or villages. Among the forests and in the mountains are a race of Caffres, in every respect resembling those of Africa excepting in stature, which does not exceed four feet eight inches. The Menangkabau people of the peninsula are so named from an inland country in Pulo Percha (Sumatra). A distinction is made between them and the Malays of Johor, but none is perceptible." To these authorities I shall add that of Mr. Thomas Raffles, at this time Secretary to the government of Pulo Pinang, a gentleman whose intelligence and zeal in the pursuit of knowledge give the strongest hope of his becoming an ornament to oriental literature. To his correspondence I am indebted for much useful information in the line of my researches, and the following passages corroborate the opinions I had formed. "With respect to the Menangkabaus, after a good deal of inquiry, I have not yet been able decidedly to ascertain the relation between those of that name in the peninsula and the Menangkabaus of Pulo Percha. The Malays affirm without hesitation that they all came originally from the latter island." In a recent communication he adds, "I am more confident than ever that the Menangkabaus of the peninsula derive their origin from the country of that name in Sumatra. Inland of Malacca about sixty miles is situated the Malay kingdom of Rumbo, whose sultan and all the principal officers of state hold their authority immediately from Menangkabau, and have written commissions for their respective offices. This shows the extent of that ancient power even now, reduced as it must be, in common with that of the Malay people in general. I had many opportunities of communicating with the natives of Rumbo, and they have clearly a peculiar dialect, resembling exactly what you mention of substituting the final o for a, as in the word ambo for amba. In fact, the dialect is called by the Malacca people the language of Menangkabau." HISTORY OF MENANGKABAU IMPERFECTLY KNOWN. Returning from this discussion I shall resume the consideration of what is termed the Sumatran empire of Menangkabau, believed by the natives of all descriptions to have subsisted from the remotest times. With its annals, either ancient or modern, we are little acquainted, and the existence of any historical records in the country has generally been doubted; yet, as those of Malacca and of Achin have been preserved, it is not hastily to be concluded that these people, who are the equals of the former, and much superior to the latter in point of literature, are destitute of theirs, although they have not reached our hands. It is known that they deduce their origin from two brothers, named Pera­pati-si-batang and Kei Tamanggungan, who are described as being among the forty companions of Noah in the ark, and whose landing at Palembang, or at a small island near it, named Langkapura, is attended with the circumstance of the dry land being first discovered by the resting upon it of a bird that flew from the vessel. From thence they proceeded to the mountain named Siguntang-guntang, and afterwards to Priangan in the neighbourhood of the great volcano, which at this day is spoken of as the ancient capital of Menangkabau. Unfortunately I possess only an imperfect abstract of this narrative, obviously intended for an introduction to the genealogy of its kings, but, even as a fable, extremely confused and unsatisfactory; and when the writer brings it down to what may be considered as the historical period he abruptly leaves off, with a declaration that the offer of a sum of money (which was unquestionably his object) should not tempt him to proceed. LIMITS. At a period not very remote its limits were included between the river of Palembang and that of Siak, on the eastern side of the island, and on the western side between those of Manjuta (near Indrapura) and Singkel, where (as well as at Siak) it borders on the independent country of the Battas. The present seat, or more properly seats, of the divided government lie at the back of a mountainous district named the Tiga-blas koto (signifying the thirteen fortified and confederated towns) inland of the settlement of Padang. The country is described as a large plain surrounded by hills producing much gold, clear of woods, and comparatively well cultivated. Although nearer to the western coast its communications with the eastern side are much facilitated by water-carriage. LAKE. Advantage is taken in the first place of a large lake, called Laut-danau, situated at the foot of the range of high mountains named gunong Besi, inland of the country of Priaman, the length of which is described by some as being equal to a day's sailing, and by others as no more than twenty-five or thirty miles, abounding with fish (especially of two species, known by the names of sasau and bili), and free from alligators. RIVERS. From this, according to the authority of a map drawn by a native, issues a river called Ayer Ambelan, which afterwards takes the name of Indragiri, along which, as well as the two other great rivers of Siak to the northward, and Jambi to the southward, the navigation is frequent, the banks of all of them being peopled with Malayan colonies. Between Menangkabau and Palembang the intercourse must, on account of the distance, be very rare, and the assertion that in the intermediate country there exists another great lake, which sends its streams to both sides of the island, appears not only to be without foundation in fact, but also at variance with the usual operations of nature; as I believe it may be safely maintained that, however numerous the streams which furnish the water of a lake, it can have only one outlet; excepting, perhaps, in flat countries, where the course of the waters has scarcely any determination, or under such a nice balance of physical circumstances as is not likely to occur. POLITICAL DECLINE. When the island was first visited by European navigators this state must have been in its decline, as appears from the political importance at that period of the kings of Achin, Pedir, and Pase, who, whilst they acknowledged their authority to be derived from him as their lord paramount, and some of them paid him a trifling complimentary tribute, acted as independent sovereigns. Subsequently to this an Achinese monarch, under the sanction of a real or pretended grant, obtained from one of the sultans, who, having married his daughter, treated her with nuptial slight, and occasioned her to implore her father's interference, extended his dominion along the western coast, and established his panglimas or governors in many places within the territory of Menangkabau, particularly at Priaman, near the great volcano-mountain. This grant is said to have been extorted not by the force of arms but by an appeal to the decision of some high court of justice similar to that of the imperial chamber in Germany, and to have included all the low or strand-countries (pasisir barat) as far southward as Bengkaulu or Silebar. About the year 1613 however he claimed no farther than Padang, and his actual possessions reached only to Barus.* (*Footnote. The following instances occur of mention made by writers at different periods of the kingdom of Menangkabau. ODOARDUS BARBOSA, 1519. "Sumatra, a most large and beautiful island; Pedir, the principal city on the northern side, where are also Pacem and Achem. Campar is opposite to Malacca. Monancabo, to the southward, is the principal source of gold, as well from mines as collected in the banks of the rivers." DE BARROS, 1553. "Malacca had the epithet of aurea given to it on account of the abundance of gold brought from Monancabo and Barros, countries in the island of Camatra, where it is procured." DIOGO de COUTO, 1600. "He gives an account of a Portuguese ship wrecked on the coast of Sumatra, near to the country of Manancabo, in 1560. Six hundred persons got on shore, among whom were some women, one of them, Dona Francisca Sardinha, was of such remarkable beauty that the people of the country resolved to carry her off for their king; and they effected it, after a struggle in which sixty of the Europeans lost their lives. At this period there was a great intercourse between Manancabo and Malacca, many vessels going yearly with gold to purchase cotton goods and other merchandise. In ancient times the country was so rich in this metal that several hundredweight (seis, sete, e mais candiz, de que trez fazem hum moyo) were exported in one season. Volume 3 page 178. LINSCHOTEN, 1601. "At Menancabo excellent poniards made, called creeses; best weapons of all the orient. Islands along the coast of Sumatra, called islands of Menancabo." ARGENSOLA, 1609. "A vessel loaded with creeses manufactured at Menancabo and a great quantity of artillery; a species of warlike machine known and fabricated in Sumatra many years before they were introduced by Europeans." LANCASTER, 1602. "Menangcabo lies eight or ten leagues inland of Priaman." BEST, 1613. " A man arrived from Menangcaboo at Ticoo, and brought news from Jambee." BEAULIEU, 1622. "Du cote du ponant apres Padang suit le royaume de Manimcabo; puis celuy d'Andripoura-Il y a (a Jambi) grand trafic d'or, qu'ils ont avec ceux de Manimcabo." Vies des Gouverneurs Gen. Hollandois, 1763. Il est bon de remarquer ici que presque toute la cote occidentale avoit ete reduite par la flotte du Sieur Pierre de Bitter en 1664. L'annee suivante, les habitans de Pauw massacrerent le Commissaire Gruis, etc.; mais apres avoir venge ce meurtre, et dissipe les revoltes en 1666, les Hollandois etoient restes les maitres de toute cette etendue de cotes entre Sillebar et Baros, ou ils etablirent divers comptoirs, dont celui de Padang est le principal depuis 1667. Le commandant, qui y reside, est en meme temps Stadhouder (Lieutenant) de l'Empereur de Maningcabo, a qui la Compagnie a cede, sous diverses restrictions & limitations, la souverainete sur tous les peuples qui babitent le long du rivage" etc.) DIVISION OF THE GOVERNMENT. In consequence of disturbances that ensued upon the death of a sultan Alif in the year 1680, without direct heirs, the government became divided amongst three chiefs, presumed to have been of the royal family and at the same time great officers of state, who resided at places named Suruwasa, Pagar-ruyong, and Sungei-trap; and in that state it continues to the present time. Upon the capture of Padang by the English in 1781 deputations arrived from two of these chiefs with congratulations upon the success of our arms; which will be repeated with equal sincerity to those who may chance to succeed us. The influence of the Dutch (and it would have been the same with any other European power) has certainly contributed to undermine the political consequence of Menangkabau by giving countenance and support to its disobedient vassals, who in their turn have often experienced the dangerous effects of receiving favours from too powerful an ally. Pasaman, a populous country, and rich in gold, cassia, and camphor, one of its nearest provinces, and governed by a panglima from thence, now disclaims all manner of dependence. Its sovereignty is divided between the two rajas of Sabluan and Kanali, who, in imitation of their former masters, boast an origin of high antiquity. One of them preserves as his sacred relic the bark of a tree in which his ancestor was nursed in the woods before the Pasaman people had reached their present polished state. The other, to be on a level with him, possesses the beard of a reverend predecessor (perhaps an anchorite), which was so bushy that a large bird had built its nest in it. Raja Kanali supported a long war with the Hollanders, attended with many reverses of fortune. Whether the three sultans maintain a struggle of hostile rivalship, or act with an appearance of concert, as holding the nominal sovereignty under a species of joint-regency, I am not informed, but each of them in the preamble of his letters assumes all the royal titles, without any allusion to competitors; and although their power and resources are not much beyond those of a common raja they do not fail to assert all the ancient rights and prerogatives of the empire, which are not disputed so long as they are not attempted to be carried into force. Pompous dictatorial edicts are issued and received by the neighbouring states (including the European chiefs of Padang), with demonstration of profound respect, but no farther obeyed than may happen to consist with the political interests of the parties to whom they are addressed. Their authority in short resembles not a little that of the sovereign pontiffs of Rome during the latter centuries, founded as it is in the superstition of remote ages; holding terrors over the weak, and contemned by the stronger powers. The district of Suruwasa, containing the site of the old capital, or Menangkabau proper, seems to have been considered by the Dutch as entitled to a degree of pre-eminence; but I have not been able to discover any marks of superiority or inferiority amongst them. In distant parts the schism is either unknown, or the three who exercise the royal functions are regarded as co-existing members of the same family, and their government, in the abstract, however insignificant in itself, is there an object of veneration. Indeed to such an unaccountable excess is this carried that every relative of the sacred family, and many who have no pretensions to it assume that character, are treated wherever they appear, not only with the most profound respect by the chiefs who go out to meet them, fire salutes on their entering the dusuns, and allow them to level contributions for their maintenance; but by the country people with such a degree of superstitious awe that they submit to be insulted, plundered, and even wounded by them, without making resistance, which they would esteem a dangerous profanation. Their appropriate title (not uncommon in other Malayan countries) is Iang de per-tuan, literally signifying he who ruleth. A person of this description, who called himself Sri Ahmed Shah, heir to the empire of Menangkabau, in consequence of some differences with the Dutch, came and settled amongst the English at Bencoolen in the year 1687, on his return from a journey to the southward as far as Lampong, and being much respected by the people of the country gained the entire confidence of Mr. Bloom, the governor. He subdued some of the neighbouring chiefs who were disaffected to the English, particularly Raja mudo of Sungei-lamo, and also a Jennang or deputy from the king of Bantam; he coined money, established a market, and wrote a letter to the East India Company promising to put them in possession of the trade of the whole island. But shortly afterwards a discovery was made of his having formed a design to cut off the settlement, and he was in consequence driven from the place. The records mention at a subsequent period that the sultan of Indrapura was raising troops to oppose him.* (*Footnote. The following anecdote of one of these personages was communicated to me by my friend, the late Mr. Crisp. "Some years ago, when I was resident of Manna, there was a man who had long worked in the place as a coolie when someone arrived from the northward, who happened to discover that he was an Iang de per-tuan or relation of the imperial family. Immediately all the bazaar united to raise him to honour and independence; he was never suffered to walk without a high umbrella carried over him, was followed by numerous attendants, and addressed by the title of tuanku, equivalent to your highness. After this he became an intriguing, troublesome fellow in the Residency, and occasioned much annoyance. The prejudice in favour of these people is said to extend over all the islands to the eastward where the Malay tongue is spoken.") HIS TITLES. The titles and epithets assumed by the sultans are the most extravagantly absurd that it is possible to imagine. Many of them descend to mere childishness; and it is difficult to conceive how any people, so far advanced in civilization as to be able to write, could display such evidences of barbarism. A specimen of a warrant of recent date, addressed to Tuanku Sungei-Pagu, a high-priest residing near Bencoolen, is as follows: Three circular Seals with inscriptions in Arabic characters. (Eldest brother) Sultan of Rum. Key Dummul Alum. Maharaja Alif. (Second brother) Sultan of China. Nour Alum. Maharaja Dempang or Dipang. (Youngest brother) Sultan of Menangkabau. Aour Alum. Maharaja Dirja or Durja. TRANSLATION OF A WARRANT. The sultan of Menangkabau, whose residence is at Pagar-ruyong, who is king of kings; a descendant of raja Iskander zu'lkarnaini; possessed of the crown brought from heaven by the prophet Adam; of a third part of the wood kamat, one extremity of which is in the kingdom of Rum and another in that of China; of the lance named lambing lambura ornamented with the beard of janggi; of the palace in the city of Rum, whose entertainments and diversions are exhibited in the month of zul'hijah, and where all alims, fakiahs, and mulanakaris praise and supplicate Allah; possessor of the gold-mine named kudarat-kudarati, which yields pure gold of twelve carats, and of the gold named jati-jati which snaps the dalik wood; of the sword named churak-simandang-giri, which received one hundred and ninety gaps in conflict with the fiend Si Kati­muno, whom it slew; of the kris formed of the soul of steel, which expresses an unwillingness at being sheathed and shows itself pleased when drawn; of a date coeval with the creation; master of fresh water in the ocean, to the extent of a day's sailing; of a lance formed of a twig of iju ; the sultan who receives his taxes in gold by the lessong measure; whose betel-stand is of gold set with diamonds; who is possessor of the web named sangsista kala, which weaves itself and adds one thread yearly, adorned with pearls, and when that web shall be completed the world will be no more; of horses of the race of sorimborani, superior to all others; of the mountain Si guntang-guntang, which divides Palembang and Jambi, and of the burning mountain; of the elephant named Hasti Dewah; who is vicegerent of heaven; sultan of the golden river; lord of the air and clouds; master of a ballei whose pillars are of the shrub jalatang; of gandarangs (drums) made of the hollow stems of the diminutive plants pulut and silosuri; of the anchor named paduka jati employed to recover the crown which fell into the deep sea of Kulzum; of the gong that resounds to the skies; of the buffalo named Si Binuwang Sati, whose horns are ten feet asunder; of the unconquered cock, Sen­gunani; of the coconut-tree which, from its amazing height and being infested with serpents and other noxious reptiles, it is impossible to climb; of the blue champaka flower, not to be found in any other country than his (being yellow elsewhere); of the flowering shrub named Sri­menjeri, of ambrosial scent; of the mountain on which the celestial spirits dwell; who when he goes to rest wakes not until the gandarang nobat sounds; He the sultan Sri Maharaja Durja furthermore declares, etc.* (*Footnote. The following Letter from the sultan of Menangkabau to the father of the present sultan of Moco-moco, and apparently written about fifty years ago, was communicated to me by Mr. Alexander Dalrymple, and though it is in part a repetition I esteem it too curious to hesitate about inserting it. The style is much more rational than that of the foregoing. "Praised be Almighty God! Sultan Gagar Alum the great and noble King, whose extensive power reacheth unto the limits of the wide ocean; unto whom God grants whatever he desires, and over whom no evil spirit, nor even Satan himself has any influence; who is invested with an authority to punish evil-doers; and has the most tender heart in the support of the innocent; has no malice in his mind, but preserveth the righteous with the greatest reverence, and nourisheth the poor and needy, feeding them daily from his own table. His authority reacheth over the whole universe, and his candour and goodness is known to all men. (Mention made of the three brothers.) The ambassador of God and his prophet Mahomet; the beloved of mankind; and ruler of the island called Percho. At the time God made the heavens, the earth, the sun, the moon, and even before evil spirits were created, this sultan Gagar Alum had his residence in the clouds; but when the world was habitable God gave him a bird called Hocinet, that had the gift of speech; this he sent down on earth to look out for a spot where he might establish an inheritance, and the first place he alighted upon was the fertile island of Lankapura, situated between Palembang and Jambi, and from thence sprang the famous kingdom of Manancabow, which will be renowned and mighty until the Judgment Day. "This Maha Raja Durja is blessed with a long life and an uninterrupted course of prosperity, which he will maintain in the name, and through the grace of the holy prophet, to the end that God's divine Will may be fulfilled upon earth. He is endowed with the highest abilities, and the most profound wisdom and circumspection in governing the many tributary kings and subjects. He is righteous and charitable, and preserveth the honour and glory of his ancestors. His justice and clemency are felt in distant regions, and his name will be revered until the last day. When he openeth his mouth he is full of goodness, and his words are as grateful as rosewater to the thirsty. His breath is like the soft winds of the heavens, and his lips are the instruments of truth; sending forth perfumes more delightful than benjamin or myrrh. His nostrils breathe ambergris and musk; and his countenance has the lustre of diamonds. He is dreadful in battle, and not to be conquered, his courage and valour being matchless. He, the sultan Maha Raja Durja, was crowned with a sacred crown from God; and possesses the wood called Kamat, in conjunction with the emperors of Rome and China. (Here follows an account of his possessions nearly corresponding to those above recited.) "After this salutation, and the information I have given of my greatness and power, which I attribute to the good and holy prophet Mahomet, I am to acquaint you with the commands of the sultan whose presence bringeth death to all who attempt to approach him without permission; and also those of the sultan of Indrapura who has four breasts. This friendly sheet of paper is brought from the two sultans above named, by their bird anggas, unto their son, sultan Gandam Shah, to acquaint him with their intention under this great seal, which is that they order their son sultan Gandam Shah to oblige the English Company to settle in the district called Biangnur, at a place called the field of sheep, that they may not have occasion to be ashamed at their frequent refusal of our goodness in permitting them to trade with us and with our subjects; and that in case he cannot succeed in this affair we hereby advise him that the ties of friendship subsisting between us and our son is broken; and we direct that he send us an answer immediately, that we may know the result--for all this island is our own." It is difficult to determine whether the preamble, or the purport of the letter be the more extraordinary.) Probably no records upon earth can furnish an example of more unintelligible jargon; yet these attributes are believed to be indisputably true by the Malays and others residing at a distance from his immediate dominions, who possess a greater degree of faith than wit; and with this addition, that he dwells in a palace without covering, free from inconvenience. It is at the same time but justice to these people to observe that, in the ordinary concerns of life, their writings are as sober, consistent, and rational as those of their neighbours. REMARKS ON WARRANT. The seals prefixed to the warrant are, beside his own and that of the emperor of China, whose consequence is well known to the inhabitants of the eastern islands, that of the sultan of Rum, by which is understood in modern times, Constantinople, the seat of the emperor of the Turks, who is looked up to by Mahometans, since the ruin of the khalifat, as the head of their religion; but I have reason to think that the appellation of Rumi was at an earlier period given by oriental writers to the subjects of the great Turkoman empire of the Seljuks, whose capital was Iconium or Kuniyah in Asia minor, of which the Ottoman was a branch. This personage he honours with the title of his eldest brother, the descendant of Iskander the two-horned, by which epithet the Macedonian hero is always distinguished in eastern story, in consequence, as may be presumed, of the horned figure on his coins,* which must long have circulated in Persia and Arabia. Upon the obscure history of these supposed brothers some light is thrown by the following legend communicated to me as the belief of the people of Johor. "It is related that Iskander dived into the sea, and there married a daughter of the king of the ocean, by whom he had three sons, who, when they arrived at manhood, were sent by their mother to the residence of their father. He gave them a makuta or crown, and ordered them to find kingdoms where they should establish themselves. Arriving in the straits of Singapura they determined to try whose head the crown fitted. The eldest trying first could not lift it to his head. The second the same. The third had nearly effected it when it fell from his hand into the sea. After this the eldest turned to the west and became king of Rome, the second to the east and became king of China. The third remained at Johor. At this time Pulo Percha (Sumatra) had not risen from the waters. When it began to appear, this king of Johor, being on a fishing party, and observing it oppressed by a huge snake named Si Kati-muno, attacked the monster with his sword called Simandang-giri, and killed it, but not till the sword had received one hundred and ninety notches in the encounter. The island being thus allowed to rise, he went and settled by the burning mountain, and his descendants became kings of Menangkabau." This has much the air of a tale invented by the people of the peninsula to exalt the idea of their own antiquity at the expense of their Sumatran neighbours. The blue champaka-flower of which the sultan boasts possession I conceive to be an imaginary and not an existent plant. The late respected Sir W. Jones, in his Botanical Observations printed in the Asiatic Researches Volume 4 suspects that by it must be meant the Kaempferia bhuchampac, a plant entirely different from the michelia; but as this supposition is built on a mere resemblance of sounds it is necessary to state that the Malayan term is champaka biru, and that nothing can be inferred from the accidental coincidence of the Sanskrit word bhu, signifying ground, with the English term for the blue colour. (*Footnote. See a beautiful engraving of one of these coins preserved in the Bodleian collection, Oxford, prefixed to Dr. Vincent's Translation of the Voyage of Nearchus printed in 1809.) CEREMONIES. With the ceremonies of the court we are very imperfectly acquainted. The royal salute is one gun; which may be considered as a refinement in ceremony; for as no additional number could be supposed to convey an adequate idea of respect, but must on the contrary establish a definite proportion between his dignity and that of his nobles, or of other princes, the sultan chooses to leave the measure of his importance indefinite by this policy and save his gunpowder. It must be observed that the Malays are in general extremely fond of the parade of firing guns, which they never neglect on high days, and on the appearance of the new moon, particularly that which marks the commencement and the conclusion of their puasa or annual fast. Yellow being esteemed, as in China, the royal colour, is said to be constantly and exclusively worn by the sultan and his household. His usual present on sending an embassy (for no Sumatran or other oriental has an idea of making a formal address on any occasion without a present in hand, be it never so trifling), is a pair of white horses; being emblematic of the purity of his character and intentions. CONVERSION TO MAHOMETAN RELIGION. The immediate subjects of this empire, properly denominated Malays, are all of the Mahometan religion, and in that respect distinguished from the generality of inland inhabitants. How it has happened that the most central people of the island should have become the most perfectly converted is difficult to account for unless we suppose that its political importance and the richness of its gold trade might have drawn thither its pious instructors, from temporal as well as spiritual motives. Be this as it may, the country of Menangkabau is regarded as the supreme seat of civil and religious authority in this part of the East, and next to a voyage to Mecca to have visited its metropolis stamps a man learned, and confers the character of superior sanctity. Accordingly the most eminent of those who bear the titles of imam, mulana, khatib, and pandita either proceed from thence or repair thither for their degree, and bring away with them a certificate or diploma from the sultan or his minister. In attempting to ascertain the period of this conversion much accuracy is not to be expected; the natives are either ignorant on the subject or have not communicated their knowledge, and we can only approximate the truth by comparing the authorities of different old writers. Marco Polo, the Venetian traveller who visited Sumatra under the name of Java minor (see above) says that the inhabitants of the seashore were addicted to the Mahometan law, which they had learned from Saracon merchants. This must have been about the year 1290, when, in his voyage from China, he was detained for several months at a port in the Straits, waiting the change of the monsoon; and though I am scrupulous of insisting upon his authority (questioned as it is), yet in a fact of this nature he could scarcely be mistaken, and the assertion corresponds with the annals of the princes of Malacca, which state, as we have seen above, that sultan Muhammed Shah, who reigned from 1276 to 1333, was the first royal convert. Juan De Barros, a Portuguese historian of great industry, says that, according to the tradition of the inhabitants, the city of Malacca was founded about the year 1260, and that about 1400 the Mahometan faith had spread considerably there and extended itself to the neighbouring islands. Diogo do Couto, another celebrated historian, who prosecuted his inquiries in India, mentions the arrival at Malacca of an Arabian priest who converted its monarch to the faith of the khalifs, and gave him the name of Shah Muhammed in the year 1384. This date however is evidently incorrect, as that king's reign was earlier by fifty years. Corneille le Brun was informed by the king of Bantam in 1706 that the people of Java were made converts to that sect about three hundred years before. Valentyn states that Sheik Mulana, by whom this conversion was effected in 1406, had already disseminated his doctrine at Ache, Pase (places in Sumatra), and Johor. From these several sources of information, which are sufficiently distinct from each other, we may draw this conclusion, that the religion, which sprang up in Arabia in the seventh century, had not made any considerable progress in the interior of Sumatra earlier than the fourteenth, and that the period of its introduction, considering the vicinity to Malacca, could not be much later. I have been told indeed, but cannot vouch for its authenticity, that in 1782 these people counted 670 years from the first preaching of their religion, which would carry the period back to 1112. It may be added that in the island of Ternate the first Mahometan prince reigned from 1466 to 1486; that Francis Xavier, a celebrated Jesuit missionary, when he was at Amboina in 1546 observed the people then beginning to learn to write from the Arabians; that the Malays were allowed to build a mosque at Goak in Makasar subsequently to the arrival of the Portuguese in 1512; and that in 1603 the whole kingdom had become Mahometan. These islands, lying far to the eastward, and being of less considerable account in that age than subsequent transactions have rendered them, the zeal of religious adventurers did not happen to be directed thither so soon as to the countries bordering on the sea of India. By some it has been asserted that the first sultan of Menangkabau was a Xerif from Mecca, or descendant of the khalifs, named Paduka Sri Sultan Ibrahim, who, settling in Sumatra, was received with honour by the princes of the country, Perapati-si-batang and his brother, and acquired sovereign authority. They add that the sultans who now reside at Pagar-ruyong and at Suruwasa are lineally descended from that Xerif, whilst he who resides at Sungei Trap, styled Datu Bandhara putih, derives his origin from Perapati. But to this supposition there are strong objections. The idea so generally entertained by the natives, and strengthened by the glimmering lights that the old writers afford us, bespeaks an antiquity to this empire that stretches far beyond the probable era of the establishment of the Mahometan religion in the island. Radin Tamanggung, son of a king of Madura, a very intelligent person, and who as a prince himself was conversant with these topics, positively asserted to me that it was an original Sumatran empire, antecedent to the introduction of the Arabian faith; instructed, but by no means conquered, as some had imagined, by people from the peninsula. So memorable an event as the elevation of a Xerif to the throne would have been long preserved by annals or tradition, and the sultan in the list of his titles would not fail to boast of this sacred extraction from the prophet, to which however he does not at all allude; and to this we may add that the superstitious veneration attached to the family extends itself not only where Mahometanism has made a progress, but also among the Battas and other people still unconverted to that faith, with whom it would not be the case if the claim to such respect was grounded on the introduction of a foreign religion which they have refused to accept. Perhaps it is less surprising that this one kingdom should have been completely converted than that so many districts of the island should remain to this day without any religion whatever. It is observable that a person of this latter description, coming to reside among the Malays, soon assimilates to them in manners, and conforms to their religious practices. The love of novelty, the vanity of learning, the fascination of ceremony, the contagion of example, veneration for what appears above his immediate comprehension, and the innate activity of man's intellectual faculties, which, spurred by curiosity, prompts him to the acquisition of knowledge, whether true or false--all conspire to make him embrace a system of belief and scheme of instruction in which there is nothing that militates against prejudices already imbibed. He relinquishes no favourite ancient worship to adopt a new, and is manifestly a gainer by the exchange, when he barters, for a paradise and eternal pleasures, so small a consideration as the flesh of his foreskin. TOLERANT PRINCIPLES. The Malays, as far as my observation went, did not appear to possess much of the bigotry so commonly found amongst the western Mahometans, or to show antipathy to or contempt for unbelievers. To this indifference is to be attributed my not having positively ascertained whether they are followers of the sunni or the shiah sect, although from their tolerant principles and frequent passages in their writings in praise of Ali I conclude them to be the latter. Even in regard to the practice of ceremonies they do not imitate the punctuality of the Arabs and others of the mussulman faith. Excepting such as were in the orders of the priesthood I rarely noticed persons in the act of making their prostrations. Men of rank I am told have their religious periods, during which they scrupulously attend to their duties and refrain from gratifications of the appetite, together with gambling and cockfighting; but these are not long nor very frequent. Even their great Fast or puasa (the ramadan of the Turks) is only partially observed. All those who have a regard for character fast more or less according to the degree of their zeal or strength of their constitutions; some for a week, others for a fortnight; but to abstain from food and betel whilst the sun is above the horizon during the whole of a lunar month is a very rare instance of devotion. LITERATURE. Malayan literature consists chiefly of transcripts and versions of the koran, commentaries on the mussulman law, and historic tales both in prose and verse, resembling in some respect our old romances. Many of these are original compositions, and others are translations of the popular tales current in Arabia, Persia, India, and the neighbouring island of Java, where the Hindu languages and mythology appear to have made at a remote period considerable progress. Among several works of this description I possess their translation (but much compressed) of the Ramayan, a celebrated Sanskrit poem, and also of some of the Arabian stories lately published in France as a Continuation of the Thousand and one Nights, first made known to the European world by M. Galland. If doubts have been entertained of the authenticity of these additions to his immortal collection the circumstance of their being (however partially) discovered in the Malayan language will serve to remove them. Beside these they have a variety of poetic works, abounding rather with moral reflections and complaints of the frowns of fortune or of ill-requited love than with flights of fancy. The pantun or short proverbial stanza has been already described. They are composed in all parts of the island, and often extempore; but such as proceed from Menangkabau, the most favoured seat of the Muses, are held in the first esteem. Their writing is entirely in the modified Arabic character, and upon paper previously ruled by means of threads drawn tight and arranged in a peculiar manner. ARTS. The arts in general are carried among these people to a greater degree of perfection than by the other natives of Sumatra. The Malays are the sole fabricators of the exquisite gold and silver filigree, the manufacture of which has been particularly described. FIREARMS. In the country of Menangkabau they have from the earliest times manufactured arms for their own use and to supply the northern inhabitants of the island, who are the most warlike, and which trade they continue to this day, smelting, forging, and preparing, by a process of their own, the iron and steel for this purpose, although much is at the same time purchased from Europeans.* (*Footnote. The principal iron mines are at a place called Padang Luar, where the ore is sold at the rate of half a fanam or forty-eighth part of a dollar for a man's load, and carried to another place in the Menangkabau country called Selimpuwong, where it is smelted and manufactured.) CANNON. The use of cannon in this and other parts of India is mentioned by the oldest Portuguese historians, and it must consequently have been known there before the discovery of the passage by the Cape of Good Hope. Their guns are those pieces called matchlocks, the improvement of springs and flints not being yet adopted by them; the barrels are well tempered and of the justest bore, as is evident from the excellence of their aim, which they always take by lowering, instead of raising the muzzle of the piece to the object. They are wrought by rolling a flatted bar of iron of proportionate dimensions spirally round a circular rod, and beating it till the parts of the former unite; which method seems preferable in point of strength to that of folding and soldering the bar longitudinally. The art of boring may well be supposed unknown to these people. Firelocks are called by them snapang, from the Dutch name. Gunpowder they make in great quantities, but either from the injudicious proportion of the ingredients in the composition, or the imperfect granulation, it is very defective in strength. SIDE-ARMS. The tombak, lambing, and kujur or kunjur are names for weapons of the lance or spear kind; the pedang, rudus, pamandap, and kalewang are of the sword kind, and slung at the side, the siwar is a small instrument of the nature of a stiletto, chiefly used for assassination; and the kris is a species of dagger of a particular construction, very generally worn, being stuck in front through the folds of a belt that goes several times round the body. (PLATE 17. SUMATRAN WEAPONS. A. A Malay Gadoobang. B. A Batta Weapon. C. A Malay Creese. One-third of the size of the Originals. W. Williams del. and sculpt. Published by W. Marsden, 1810.) (PLATE 17a. SUMATRAN WEAPONS. D. A Malay Creese. E. An Achenese Creese. F. A Malay Sewar. One-third of the size of the Originals. W. Williams del. and sculpt.) KRIS-BLADE. The blade is about fourteen inches in length, not straight nor uniformly curved, but waving in and out, as we see depicted the flaming swords that guarded the gates of paradise; which probably may render a wound given with it the more fatal. It is not smooth or polished like those of our weapons, but by a peculiar process made to resemble a composition, in which veins of a different metal are apparent. This damasking (as I was informed by the late Mr. Boulton) is produced by beating together steel and iron wire whilst in a state of half fusion, and eating them with acids, by which the softest part is the most corroded; the edges being of pure steel. Their temper is uncommonly hard. The head or haft is either of ivory, the tooth of the duyong (sea-cow), that of the hippopotamus, the snout of the ikan layer (voilier), of black coral, or of fine-grained wood. This is ornamented with gold or a mixture of that and copper, which they call swasa, highly polished and carved into curious figures, some of which have the beak of a bird with the arms of a human creature, and bear a resemblance to the Egyptian Isis. The sheath also is formed of some beautiful species of wood, hollowed out, with a neat lacing of split rattan, stained red round the lower parts; or sometimes it is plated with gold. The value of a kris is supposed to be enhanced in proportion to the number of persons it has slain. One that has been the instrument of much bloodshed is regarded with a degree of veneration as something sacred. The horror or enthusiasm inspired by the contemplation of such actions is transferred to the weapon, which accordingly acquires sanctity from the principle that leads ignorant men to reverence whatever possesses the power of effecting mischief. Other circumstances also contribute to give them celebrity, and they are distinguished by pompous names. Some have a cushion by their bedside on which is placed their favourite weapon. I have a manuscript treatise on krises, accompanied with drawings, describing their imaginary properties and value, estimated at the price of one or more slaves. The abominable custom of poisoning them, though much talked of, is rarely practised I believe in modern times. They are frequently seen rubbing the blades with lime-juice, which has been considered as a precaution against danger of this kind, but it is rather for the purpose of removing common stains or of improving the damasked appearance. MODES OF WARFARE. Although much parade attends their preparations for war and their marches, displaying colours of scarlet cloth, and beating drums, gongs, and chennangs, yet their operations are carried on rather in the way of ambuscade and surprise of straggling parties than open combat, firing irregularly from behind entrenchments, which the enemy takes care not to approach too near. HORSES. They are said to go frequently to war on horseback, but I shall not venture to give their force the name of cavalry. The chiefs may probably avail themselves of the service of this useful animal from motives of personal indulgence or state, but on account of the ranjaus or sharp-pointed stakes so commonly planted in the passes (see the preceding journal of Lieutenant Dare's march, where they are particularly described), it is scarcely possible that horse could be employed as an effective part of an army. It is also to be observed that neither the natives nor even Europeans ever shoe them, the nature of the roads in general not rendering it necessary. The breed of them is small but well made, hardy, and vigorous. The soldiers serve without pay, but the plunder they obtain is thrown into a common stock, and divided amongst them. Whatever might formerly have been the degree of their prowess they are not now much celebrated for it; yet the Dutch at Padang have often found them troublesome enemies from their numbers, and been obliged to secure themselves within their walls. Between the Menangkabau people, those of Rau or Aru, and the Achinese, settled at Natal, wars used to be incessant until they were checked by the influence of our authority at that place. The factory itself was raised upon one of the breast-works thrown up by them for defence, of which several are to be met with in walking a few miles into the country, and some of them very substantial. Their campaigns in this petty warfare were carried on very deliberately. They made a regular practice of commencing a truce at sunset, when they remained in mutual security, and sometimes agreed that hostilities should take place only between certain hours of the day. The English resident, Mr. Carter, was frequently chosen their umpire, and upon these occasions used to fix in the ground his golden-headed cane, on the spot where the deputies should meet and concert terms of accommodation; until at length the parties, grown weary of their fruitless contests, resolved to place themselves respectively under the dependence and protection of the company. The fortified villages, in some parts of the country named dusun, and in others kampong, are here, as on the continent of India, denominated kota or forts, and the districts are distinguished from each other by the number of confederated villages they contain. GOVERNMENT. The government, like that of all Malayan states, is founded on principles entirely feudal. The prince is styled raja, maha-raja, iang de pertuan, or sultan; the nobles have the appellation of orang kaya or datu, which properly belongs to the chiefs of tribes, and implies their being at the head of a numerous train of immediate dependants or vassals, whose service they command. The heir-apparent has the title of raja muda. OFFICERS OF STATE. From amongst the orang kayas the sultan appoints the officers of state, who as members of his council are called mantri, and differ in number and authority according to the situation and importance of the kingdom. Of these the first in rank, or prime minister, has the appellation of perdana mantri, mangko bumi, and not seldom, however anomalously, maharaja. Next to him generally is the bandhara, treasurer or high steward; then the laksamana and tamanggung, commanders-in-chief by sea and land, and lastly the shahbandara, whose office it is to superintend the business of the customs (in sea-port towns) and to manage the trade for the king. The governors of provinces are named panglima, the heads of departments pangulu. The ulubalang are military officers forming the bodyguard of the sovereign, and prepared on all occasions to execute his orders. From their fighting singly, when required, in the cause of the prince or noble who maintains them, the name is commonly translated champion; but when employed by a weak but arbitrary and cruel prince to remove by stealth obnoxious persons whom he dares not to attack openly they may be compared more properly to the Ismaelians or Assassins, so celebrated in the history of the Crusades, as the devoted subjects of the Sheikh al-jabal, or Old Man of the Mountain, as this chief of Persian Irak is vulgarly termed. I have not reason however to believe that such assassinations are by any means frequent. The immediate vassals of the king are called amba raja; and for the subjects in general the word rayet has been adopted. Beside those above named there is a great variety of officers of government of an inferior class; and even among the superior there is not at every period, nor in every Malayan state, a consistent uniformity of rank and title. GOVERNMENT BY FOUR DATUS. The smaller Malayan establishments are governed by their datus or heads of tribes, of whom there are generally four; as at Bencoolen (properly Bengkaulu) near to which the English settlement of Fort Marlborough is situated, and where Fort York formerly stood. These are under the protection or dominion of two native chiefs or princes, the pangerans of Sungei-lamo and Sungei-etam, the origin of whose authority has been already explained. Each of these has possessions on different parts of the river, the principal sway being in the hands of him of the two who has most personal ability. They are constant rivals, though living upon familiar terms, and are only restrained from open war by the authority of the English. Limun likewise, and the neighbouring places of Batang-asei and Pakalang-jambu, near the sources of Jambi River, where gold is collected and carried chiefly to Bencoolen and the settlement of Laye, where I had opportunities of seeing the traders, are each governed by four datus, who, though not immediately nominated by the sultan, are confirmed by, and pay tribute to, him. The first of these, whose situation is most southerly, receive also an investiture (baju, garment, and destar, turband) from the sultan of Palembang, being a politic measure adopted by these merchants for the convenience attending it in their occasional trading concerns with that place. HOT SPRINGS. At Priangan, near Gunong-berapi, are several hot mineral springs, called in the Malayan map already mentioned, panchuran tujuh or the seven conduits, where the natives from time immemorial have been in the practice of bathing; some being appropriated to the men, and others to the women; with two of cold water, styled the king's. It will be recollected that in ancient times this place was the seat of government. ANCIENT SCULPTURE. Near to these springs is a large stone or rock of very hard substance, one part of which is smoothed to a perpendicular face of about ten or twelve feet long and four high, on which are engraved characters supposed to be European, the space being entirely filled with them and certain chaps or marks at the corners. The natives presume them to be Dutch, but say that the latter do not resemble the present mark of the Company. There is some appearance of the date 1100. The informant (named Raja Intan), who had repeatedly seen and examined it, added that M. Palm, governor of Padang, once sent Malays with paper and paint to endeavour to take off the inscription, but they did not succeed; and the Dutch, whose arms never penetrated to that part of the country, are ignorant of its meaning. It is noticed in the Malayan map. Should it prove to be a Hindu monument it will be thought curious. CHAPTER 19. KINGDOMS OF INDRAPURA, ANAK-SUNGEI, PASSAMMAN, SIAK. INDRAPURA. Among the earliest dismemberments of the Menangkabau empire was the establishment of Indrapura as an independent kingdom. Though now in its turn reduced to a state of little importance, it was formerly powerful in comparison with its neighbours, and of considerable magnitude, including Anak-Sungei and extending as far as Kattaun. Some idea of its antiquity may be formed from a historical account given by the Sultan of Bantam to the intelligent traveller Corneille le Brun, in which it is related that the son of the Arabian prince who first converted the Javans to the religion of the Prophet, about the year 1400, having obtained for himself the sovereignty of Bantam, under the title of pangeran, married the daughter of the raja of Indrapura, and received as her portion the country of the Sillabares, a people of Banca-houlou. CLAIMS OF THE SULTAN OF BANTAM. Upon this cession appears to be grounded the modern claim of the sultan to this part of the coast, which, previously to the treaty of Paris in 1763, was often urged by his sovereigns, the Dutch East India Company. His dominion is said indeed to have extended from the southward as far as Urei river, and at an early period to Betta or Ayer Etam, between Ipu and Moco-moco, but that the intermediate space was ceded by him to the raja of Indrapura, in satisfaction for the murder of a prince, and that a small annual tax was laid by the latter on the Anak­sungei people on account of the same murder (being the fourth part of a dollar, a bamboo of rice, and a fowl, from each village), which is now paid to the sultan of Moco-moco. In the year 1682 the district of Ayer Aji threw off its dependence on Indrapura. In 1696 Raja Pasisir Barat, under the influence of the Dutch, was placed on the throne, at the age of six years, and his grandfather appointed guardian; but in 1701, in consequence of a quarrel with his protectors, the European settlers were massacred. WAR WITH THE DUTCH. This was the occasion of a destructive war, in the event of which the raja and his mantris were obliged to fly, and the country was nearly depopulated. In 1705 he was reinstated, and reigned till about 1732. DECLINE OF THE KINGDOM. But the kingdom never recovered the shock it had received, and dwindled into obscurity. Its river, which descends from the mountains of Korinchi, is considered as one of the largest in the southern part of the west coast, and is capable of admitting sloops. The country formerly produced a large quantity of pepper, and some gold was brought down from the interior, which now finds another channel. An English factory was established there about the year 1684, but never became of any importance. KINGDOM OF ANAK-SUNGEI. From the ruins of Indrapura has sprung the kingdom of Anak-sungei, extending along the sea-coast from Manjuta River to that of Urei. Its chief bears the title of sultan, and his capital, if such places deserve the appellation, is Moco-moco. A description of it will be found above. Although the government is Malayan, and the ministers of the sultan are termed mantri (a title borrowed from the Hindus) the greatest part of the country dependent on it is inhabited by the original dusun people, and accordingly their proper chiefs are styled proattin, who are obliged to attend their prince at stated periods, and to carry to him their contribution or tax. His power over them however is very limited. The first monarch of this new kingdom was named sultan Gulemat, who in 1695 established himself at Manjuta, by the assistance of the English, in consequence of a revolution at Indrapura, by which the prince who had afforded them protection on their first settling was driven out through the intrigues, as they are termed, of the Dutch. It was a struggle, in short, between the rival Companies, whose assistance was courted by the different factions as it happened to suit their purpose, or who, becoming strong enough to consider themselves as principals, made the native chiefs the tools of their commercial ambition. In the year 1717 Gulemat was removed from the throne by an assembly of the chiefs styling themselves the mantris of Lima-kota and proattins of Anak-sungei, who set up a person named Raja Kechil-besar in his room, appointing at the same time, as his minister and successor, Raja Gandam Shah, by whom, upon his accession in 1728, the seat of government was removed from Manjuta to Moco-moco. He was father of sultan Pasisir Barat shah mualim shah, still reigning in the year 1780, but harassed by the frequent rebellions of his eldest son. The space of time occupied by the reigns of these two sovereigns is extraordinary when we consider that the former must have been at man's estate when he became minister or assessor in 1717. Nor is it less remarkable that the son of the deposed sultan Gulemat, called sultan Ala ed-din, was also living, at Tappanuli, about the year 1780, being then supposed ninety years of age. He was confined as a state prisoner at Madras during the government of Mr. Morse, and is mentioned by Captain Forrest (Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago, page 57) as uncle to the king of Achin, who reigned in 1784. The first English settlement at Moco-moco was formed in 1717. PASSAMMAN. Passamman was the most northern of the provinces immediately dependant on Menangkabau, and afterwards, together with Priaman and many other places on the coast, fell under the dominion of the kings of Achin. It is now divided into two petty kingdoms, each of which is governed by a raja and fourteen pangulus. Formerly it was a place of considerable trade, and, beside a great export of pepper, received much fine gold from the mountains of the Rau country, lying about three days' journey inland. The inhabitants of these are said to be Battas converted to Mahometanism and mixed with Malays. They are governed by datus. The peculiarity of dress remarked of the Korinchi people is also observable here, the men wearing drawers that reach just below the calf, having one leg of red and the other of white or blue cloth, and the baju or garment also party-coloured. The greater part of the gold they collect finds its way to Patapahan on the river of Siak, and from thence to the eastern side of the island and straits of Malacca. The Agam tribe adjoining to the Rau, and connecting to the southward with Menangkabau, differs little from Malays, and is likewise governed by datus. SIAK. The great river of Siak has its source in the mountains of the Menangkabau country, and empties itself nearly opposite to Malacca, with which place it formerly carried on a considerable trade. From the Dutch charts we had a general knowledge of its course as far as a place called Mandau or Mandol, as they write the name, and where they had a small establishment on account of its abounding with valuable ship­timber. SURVEY. A recent survey executed by Mr. Francis Lynch, under the orders of the government of Pulo Pinang, has made us more particularly acquainted with its size, its advantages, and defects. From the place where it discharges itself into the straits of Kampar or Bencalis, to the town of Siak is, according to the scale of his chart, about sixty-five geographical miles, and from thence to a place called Pakan bharu or Newmarket, where the survey discontinues, is about one hundred more. The width of the river is in general from about three-quarters to half a mile, and its depth from fifteen to seven fathoms; but on the bar at low-water spring-tides there are only fifteen feet, and several shoals near its mouth. The tides rise about eleven feet at the town, where at full and change it is high-water at nine A.M. Not far within the river is a small island on which the Dutch had formerly a factory. The shores are flat on both sides to a considerable distance up the country, and the whole of the soil is probably alluvial; but about a hundred and twenty-five or thirty miles up Mr. Lynch marks the appearance of high land, giving it the name of Princess Augusta Sophia hill, and points it out as a commanding situation for a settlement. SHIP-TIMBER. He speaks in favourable terms of the facility with which ship-timber of any dimensions or shape may be procured and loaded. Respecting the size or population of the town no information is given. GOVERNMENT. The government of it was (in October 1808) in the hands of the Tuanku Pangeran, brother to the Raja, who in consequence of some civil disturbance had withdrawn to the entrance of the river. His name is not mentioned, but from the Transactions of the Batavian Society we learn that the prince who reigned about the year 1780 was Raja Ismael, "one of the greatest pirates in those seas." The maritime power of the kingdom of Siak has always been considerable, and in the history of the Malayan states we repeatedly read of expeditions fitted out from thence making attacks upon Johor, Malacca, and various other places on the two coasts of the peninsula. Most of the neighbouring states (or rivers) on the eastern coast of Sumatra, from Langat to Jambi, are said to have been brought in modern times under its subjection. TRADE. The trade is chiefly carried on by Kling vessels, as they are called, from the coast of Coromandel, which supply cargoes of piece-goods, and also raw silk, opium, and other articles, which they provide at Pinang or Malacca; in return for which they receive gold, wax, sago, salted fish, and fish-roes, elephants' teeth, gambir, camphor, rattans, and other canes. According to the information of the natives the river is navigable for sloops to a place called Panti Chermin, being eight days' sail with the assistance of the tide, and within half a day's journey by land of another named Patapahan, which boats also, of ten to twenty tons, reach in two days. This is a great mart of trade with the Menangkabau country, whither its merchants resort with their gold. Pakan-bharu, the limit of Mr. Lynch's voyage, is much lower down, and the above­mentioned places are consequently not noticed by him. The Dutch Company procured annually from Siak, for the use of Batavia, several rafts of spars for masts, and if the plan of building ships at Pinang should be encouraged large supplies of frame-timber for the purpose may be obtained from this river, provided a sense of interest shall be found sufficiently strong to correct or restrain the habits of treachery and desperate enterprise for which these people have in all ages been notorious. RAKAN. The river Rakan, to the northward of Siak, by much the largest in the island, if it should not rather be considered as an inlet of the sea, takes its rise in the Rau country, and is navigable for sloops to a great distance from the sea; but vessels are deterred from entering it by the rapidity of the current, or more probably the reflux of the tide, and that peculiar swell known in the Ganges and elsewhere by the appellation of the bore. KAMPAR. That of Kampar, to the southward, is said by the natives to labour under the same inconvenience, and Mr. Lynch was informed that the tides there rise from eighteen to twenty-four feet. If these circumstances render the navigation dangerous it appears difficult to account for its having been a place of considerable note at the period of the Portuguese conquest of Malacca, and repeatedly the scene of naval actions with the fleets of Achin, whilst Siak, which possesses many natural advantages, is rarely mentioned. In modern times it has been scarcely at all known to Europeans, and even its situation is doubtful. INDRAGIRI. The river of Indragiri is said by the natives to have its source in a lake of the Menangkabau country, from whence it issues by the name of Ayer Ambelan. Sloops tide it up for five or six weeks (as they assert), anchoring as the ebb begins to make. From a place called Lubok ramo-ramo they use boats of from five to twenty tons, and the smaller sort can proceed until they are stopped by a fall or cascade at Seluka, on the borders of Menangkabau. This extraordinary distance to which the influence of the tides extends is a proof of the absolute flatness of the country through which these rivers take the greater part of their course. JAMBI. Jambi River has its principal source in the Limun country. Although of considerable size it is inferior to Siak and Indragiri. At an early stage of European commerce in these parts it was of some importance, and both the English and Dutch had factories there; the former on a small island near the mouth, and the latter at some distance up the river. The town of Jambi is situated at the distance of about sixty miles from the sea, and we find in the work of the historian, Faria y Sousa, that in the year 1629 a Portuguese squadron was employed twenty-two days in ascending the river, in order to destroy some Dutch ships which had taken shelter near the town. Lionel Wafer, who was there in 1678 (at which time the river was blockaded by a fleet of praws from Johor), makes the distance a hundred miles. The trade consists chiefly in gold-dust, pepper, and canes, but the most of what is collected of the first article proceeds across the country to the western coast, and the quality of the second is not held in esteem. The port is therefore but little frequented by any other than native merchants. Sometimes, but rarely, a private trading ship from Bengal endeavours to dispose of a few chests of opium in this or one of the other rivers; but the masters scarcely ever venture on shore, and deal with such of the Malays as come off to them at the sword point, so strong is the idea of their treacherous character. PALEMBANG. The kingdom of Palembang is one of considerable importance, and its river ranks amongst the largest in the island. It takes its rise in the district of Musi, immediately at the back of the range of hills visible from Bencoolen, and on that account has the name of Ayer Musi in the early part of its course, but in the lower is more properly named the Tatong. SIZE OF RIVER. Opposite to the city of Palembang and the Dutch Company's factory it is upwards of a mile in breadth, and is conveniently navigated by vessels whose draft of water does not exceed fourteen feet. Those of a larger description have been carried thither for military purposes (as in 1660, when the place was attacked and destroyed by the Hollanders) but the operation is attended with difficulty on account of numerous shoals. FOREIGN TRADE. The port is much frequented by trading vessels, chiefly from Java, Madura, Balli, and Celebes, which bring rice, salt, and cloths, the manufacture of those islands. With opium, the piece-goods of the west of India, and European commodities it is supplied by the Dutch from Batavia, or by those who are termed interlopers. These in return receive pepper and tin, which, by an old agreement made with the sultan, and formally renewed in 1777, are to be exclusively delivered to the Company at stipulated prices, and no other Europeans are to be allowed to trade or navigate within his jurisdiction. DUTCH FACTORY. In order to enforce these conditions the Dutch are permitted to maintain a fort on the river with a garrison of fifty or sixty men (which cannot be exceeded without giving umbrage), and to keep its own cruisers to prevent smuggling. The quantity of pepper thus furnished was from one to two millions of pounds per annum. Of tin the quantity was about two millions of pounds, one third of which was shipped (at Batavia) for Holland, and the remainder sent to China. It has already been stated that this tin is the produce of the island of Bangka, situated near the mouth of the river, which may be considered as an entire hill of tin-sand. The works, of which a particular account is given in Volume 3 of the Batavian Transactions, are entirely in the hands of Chinese settlers. In the year 1778 the Company likewise received thirty-seven thousand bundles of rattans. LOW COUNTRY. The lower parts of the country of Palembang towards the sea-coast are described as being flat marshy land, and with the exception of some few tracts entirely unfit for the purposes of cultivation. It is generally understood to have been all covered by the sea in former ages, not only from its being observed that the strand yearly gains an accession, but also that, upon digging the earth at some distance inland, sea-shells, and even pieces of boat-timber, are discovered. INTERIOR COUNTRY. ITS TRADE. The interior or upland districts on the contrary are very productive, and there the pepper is cultivated, which the king's agent (for trade in these parts is usually monopolized by the sovereign power) purchases at a cheap rate. In return he supplies the country people with opium, salt, and piece-goods, forming the cargoes of large boats (some of them sixty-six feet in length and seven in breadth, from a single tree) which are towed against the stream. The goods intended for Passummah are conveyed to a place called Muara Mulang, which is performed in fourteen days, and from thence by land to the borders of that country is only one day's journey. This being situated beyond the district where the pepper flourishes their returns are chiefly made in pulas twine, raw silk in its roughest state, and elephants' teeth. From Musi they send likewise sulphur, alum, arsenic, and tobacco. Dragons-blood and gambir are also the produce of the country. ITS GOVERNMENT. These interior parts are divided into provinces, each of which is assigned as a fief or government to one of the royal family or of the nobles, who commit the management to deputies and give themselves little concern about the treatment of their subjects. The pangerans, who are the descendants of the ancient princes of the country, experience much oppression, and when compelled to make their appearance at court are denied every mark of ceremonious distinction. SETTLERS FROM JAVA. The present rulers of the kingdom of Palembang and a great portion of the inhabitants of the city originally came from the island of Java, in consequence, as some suppose, of an early conquest by the sovereigns of Majapahit; or, according to others, by those of Bantam, in more modern times; and in proof of its subjection, either real or nominal, to the latter, we find in the account of the first Dutch voyages, that "in 1596 a king of Bantam fell before Palembang, a rebel town of Sumatra, which he was besieging." ROYAL FAMILY. The Dutch claim the honour of having placed on the throne the family of the reigning sultan (1780), named Ratu Akhmet Bahar ed-din, whose eldest son bears the title of Pangeran Ratu, answering to the RaJa muda of the Malays. The power of the monarch is unlimited by any legal restriction, but not keeping a regular body of troops in pay his orders are often disregarded by the nobles. Although without any established revenue from taxes or contributions, the profit arising from the trade of pepper and tin (especially the latter) is so great, and the consequent influx of silver, without any apparent outlet, so considerable, that he must necessarily be possessed of treasure to a large amount. The customs on merchandize imported remain in the hands of the shabhandaras, who are required to furnish the king's household with provisions and other necessaries. The domestic attendants on the prince are for the most part females. CURRENCY. The currency of the country and the only money allowed to be received at the king's treasury is Spanish dollars; but there is also in general circulation a species of small base coin, issued by royal authority, and named pitis. These are cut out of plates composed of lead and tin, and, having a square hole in the middle (like the Chinese cash), are strung in parcels of five hundred each, sixteen of which (according to the Batavian Transactions) are equivalent to the dollar. In weighing gold the tail is considered as the tenth part of the katti (of a pound and a third), or equal to the weight of two Spanish dollars and a quarter. CITY. The city is situated in a flat marshy tract, a few miles above the delta of the river, about sixty miles from the sea, and yet so far from the mountains of the interior that they are not visible. It extends about eight miles along both banks, and is mostly confined to them and to the creeks which open into the river. The buildings, with the exception of the king's palace and mosque, being all of wood or bamboos standing on posts and mostly covered with thatch of palm-leaves, the appearance of the place has nothing to recommend it. There are also a great number of floating habitations, mostly shops, upon bamboo-rafts moored to piles, and when the owners of these are no longer pleased with their situation they remove upwards or downwards, with the tide, to one more convenient. Indeed, as the nature of the surrounding country, being overflowed in high tides, scarcely admits of roads, almost all communication is carried on by means of boats, which accordingly are seen moving by hundreds in every direction, without intermission. The dalam or palace being surrounded by a high wall, nothing is known to Europeans of the interior, but it appears to be large, lofty, and much ornamented on the outside. Immediately adjoining to this wall, on the lower side, is a strong, square, roofed battery, commanding the river, and below it another; on both of which many heavy cannon are mounted, and fired on particular occasions. In the interval between the two batteries is seen the meidan or plain, at the extremity of which appears the balerong or hall where the sultan gives audience in public. This is an ordinary building, and serving occasionally for a warehouse, but ornamented with weapons arranged along the walls. The royal mosque stands behind the palace, and from the style of architecture seems to have been constructed by a European. It is an oblong building with glazed windows, pilasters, and a cupola. The burial place of these sovereigns is at old Palembang, about a league lower down the river, where the ground appears to be somewhat raised from having long been the site of habitations. ENCOURAGEMENT TO FOREIGNERS. The policy of these princes, who were themselves strangers, having always been to encourage foreign settlers, the city an lower parts of the river are in a great measure peopled with natives of China, Cochin­china, Camboja, Siam, Patani on the coast of the peninsula, Java, Celebes, and other eastern places. In addition to these the Arabian priests are described by the Dutch as constituting a very numerous and pernicious tribe, who, although in the constant practice of imposing upon and plundering the credulous inhabitants, are held by them in the utmost reverence. RELIGION. The Mahometan religion prevails throughout all the dominions of the sultan, with the exception of a district near the sea­coast, called Salang, where the natives, termed orang kubu, live in the woods like wild animals. The literature of the country is said to be confined to the study of the koran, but opinions of this kind I have found in other instances to be too hastily formed, or by persons not competent to obtain the necessary information. LANGUAGE. The language of the king and his court is the high dialect of the Javan, mixed with some foreign idioms. In the general intercourse with strangers the conversation is always in Malayan, with the pronunciation (already noticed) of the final o for a. CHARACTER OF INHABITANTS. Amongst the people of Palembang themselves this language (the character of which they employ) is mixed with the common Javan. The Dutch, on whom we must rely for an account of the manners and disposition of these people, and which will be found in Volume 3 page 122 of the Batavian Transactions, describe those of the low country as devoid of every good quality and imbued with every bad one; whilst those of the interior are spoken of as a dull, simple people who show much forbearance under oppression*; but it is acknowledged that of these last they have little knowledge, owing to the extreme suspicion and jealousy of the government, which takes alarm at any attempt to penetrate into the country. (*Footnote. A ridiculous story is told of a custom amongst the inhabitants of a province named Blida, which I should not repeat but for its whimsical coincidence with a jeu d'esprit of our celebrated Swift. When a child is born there (say the Palembangers), and the father has any doubts about the honesty of his wife, he puts it to the proof by tossing the infant into the air and catching it on the point of a spear. If no wound is thereby inflicted he is satisfied of its legitimacy, but if otherwise he considers it as spurious.) INTERIOR VISITED BY ENGLISH. This inland district having been visited only by two servants of the English East India Company who have left any record of their journeys, I shall extract from their narratives such parts as serve to throw a light upon its geography. The first of these was Mr. Charles Miller, who, on the 19th of September 1770, proceeded from Fort Marlborough to Bentiring on the Bencoolen river, thence to Pagar-raddin, Kadras, Gunong Raja, Gunong Ayu, Kalindang, and Jambu, where he ascended the hills forming the boundary of the Company's district, which he found covered with lofty trees. The first dusun on the other side is named Kalubar, and situated on the banks of the river Musi. From thence his route lay to places called Kapiyong and Parahmu, from all of which the natives carry the produce of their country to Palembang by water. The setting in of the rains and difficulties raised by the guides prevented him from proceeding to the country where the cassia is cut, and occasioned his return towards the hills on the 10th of October, stopping at Tabat Bubut. The land in the neighbourhood of the Musi he describes as being level, the soil black and good, and the air temperate. It was his intention to have crossed the hills to Ranne-lebar, on the 11th, but missing the road in the woods reached next day Beyol Bagus, a dusun in the Company's district, and thence proceeded to Gunong Raja, his way lying partly down a branch of the Bencoolen river, called Ayer Bagus, whose bed is formed of large pebble-stones, and partly through a level country, entirely covered with lofty bamboos. From Gunong Raja he returned down Bencoolen River on a bamboo raft to Bentiring, and reached Fort Marlborough on the 18th of October. The other traveller, Mr. Charles Campbell, in a private letter dated March 1802 (referring me, for more detailed information, to journals which have not reached my hand), says, "We crossed the hills nearly behind the Sugar-loaf, and entered the valley of Musi. Words cannot do justice to the picturesque scenery of that romantic and delightful country, locked in on all sides by lofty mountains, and watered by the noble river here navigable for very large canoes, which, after receiving the Lamatang and several other streams, forms the Palembang. Directing our course behind the great hill of Sungei-lamo we in three days discovered Labun, and crossed some considerable streams discharging themselves into the river of Kattaun. Our object there being completed we returned along the banks of the Musi nearly to the dusun of Kalubat, at which place we struck into the woods, and, ascending the mountain, reached towards evening a village high up on the Bencoolen River. There is but a single range, and it is a fact that from the navigable part of the Musi river to a place on that of Bencoolen where rafts and sampans may be used is to the natives a walk of no more than eight hours. Musi is populous, well cultivated, and the soil exceedingly rich. The people are stout, healthy looking, and independent in their carriage and manners, and were to us courteous and hospitable. They acknowledge no superior authority, but are often insulted by predatory parties from Palembang." These freebooters would perhaps call themselves collectors of tribute. It is much to be regretted that little political jealousies and animosities between the European powers whose influence prevails on each side of the island prevent further discoveries of the course of this considerable river. CHAPTER 20. THE COUNTRY OF THE BATTAS. TAPPANULI-BAY. JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR. CASSIA-TREES. GOVERNMENTS. ARMS. WARFARE. TRADE. FAIRS. FOOD. MANNERS. LANGUAGE. WRITING. RELIGION. FUNERALS. CRIMES. EXTRAORDINARY CUSTOM. BATTAS. One of the most considerable distinctions of people in the island, and by many regarded as having the strongest claims to originality, is the nation of the Battas (properly Batak), whose remarkable dissimilitude to the other inhabitants, in the genius of their customs and manners, and especially in some extraordinary usages, renders it necessary that a particular degree of attention should be paid to their description. SITUATION OF THE COUNTRY. This country is bounded on the north by that of Achin, from which it is separated by the mountains of Papa and Deira, and on the south by the independent district of Rau or Rawa; extending along the sea-coast on the western side from the river of Singkel to that of Tabuyong, but inland, to the back of Ayer Bangis, and generally across the island, which is narrow in that part, to the eastern coast; but more or less encroached upon by the Malayan and Achinese establishments in the most convenient maritime situations, for the purposes of their commerce. It is very populous, and chiefly in the central parts, where are extensive open or naked plains, on the borders (as it is said) of a great lake; the soil fertile, and cultivation so much more prevalent than in the southern countries, which are mostly covered with woods, that there is scarcely a tree to be seen excepting those planted by the natives about their villages, which are not, as elsewhere, on the banks of rivers, but wherever a strong situation presents itself. Water indeed is not so abundant as to the southward, which may be attributed to the comparatively level surface, the chain of high mountains which extends northwards from the straits of Sunda through the interior of the island, in a great measure terminating with gunong Passummah or Mount Ophir. About the bay of Tappanuli however the land is high and wooded near the coast. ITS DIVISIONS. The Batta territory is divided (according to the information obtained by the English Residents) into the following principal districts; Ankola, Padambola, Mandiling, Toba, Selindong, and Singkel, of which the first has five, the third three, and the fourth five subordinate tribes. According to the Dutch account published in the Transactions of the Batavian Society, which is very circumstantial, it is divided into three small kingdoms. One of these named Simamora is situated far inland and contains a number of villages, and among others those named Batong, Ria, Allas, Batadera, Kapkap (where the district producing benzoin commences), Batahol, Kotta-tinggi (the place of the king's residence), with two places lying on the eastern coast called Suitara-male and Jambu-ayer. This kingdom is said to yield much fine gold from the mines of Batong and Sunayang. Bata-salindong also contains many districts, in some of which benzoin, and in others fine gold, is collected. The residence of the king is at Salindong. Bata-gopit lies at the foot of a volcano-mountain of that name, from whence, at the time of an eruption, the natives procure sulphur, to be afterwards employed in the manufacture of gunpowder. The little kingdom of Butar lies north­eastward of the preceding and reaches to the eastern coast, where are the places named Pulo Serony and Batu Bara; the latter enjoying a considerable trade; also Longtong and Sirigar, at the mouth of a great river named Assahan. Butar yields neither camphor, benzoin, nor gold, and the inhabitants support themselves by cultivation. The residence of the king is at a town of the same name. ANCIENT BUILDING. High up on the river of Batu Bara, which empties itself into the straits of Malacca, is found a large brick building, concerning the erection of which no tradition is preserved amongst the people. It is described as a square, or several squares, and at one corner is an extremely high pillar, supposed by them to have been designed for carrying a flag. Images or reliefs of human figures are carved in the walls, which they conceive to be Chinese (perhaps Hindu) idols. The bricks, of which some were brought to Tappanuli, are of a smaller size than those used by the English. SINGKEL. Singkel River, by much the largest on the western coast of the island, has its rise in the distant mountains of Daholi, in the territory of Achin, and at the distance of about thirty miles from the sea receives the waters of the Sikere, at a place called Pomoko, running through a great extent of the Batta country. After this junction it is very broad, and deep enough for vessels of considerable burden, but the bar is shallow and dangerous, having no more than six feet at low-water spring-tides, and the rise is also six feet. The breadth here is about three-quarters of a mile. Much of the lower parts of the country through which it has its course is overflowed during the rainy season, but not at two places, called by Captain Forrest Rambong and Jambong, near the mouth. The principal town lies forty miles up the river on the northern branch. On the southern is a town named Kiking, where more trade is carried on by the Malays and Achinese than at the former, the Samponan or Papa mountains producing more benzoin than those of Daholi. It is said in a Dutch manuscript that in three days' navigation above the town of Singkel you come to a great lake, the extent of which is not known. Barus, the next place of any consequence to the southward, is chiefly remarkable for having given name throughout the East to the Kapur­barus or native camphor, as it is often termed to distinguish it from that which is imported from Japan and China, as already explained. This was the situation of the most remote of the Dutch factories, long since withdrawn. It is properly a Malayan establishment, governed by a raja, a bandhara, and eight pangulus, and with this peculiarity, that the rajas and bandharas must be alternately and reciprocally of two great families, named Dulu and D'ilhir. The assumed jurisdiction is said to have extended formerly to Natal. The town is situated about a league from the coast, and two leagues farther inland are eight small villages inhabited by Battas, the inhabitants of which purchase the camphor and benzoin from the people of the Diri mountains, extending from the southward of Singkel to the hill of Lasa, behind Barus, where the Tobat district commences. TAPPANULI. The celebrated bay of Tappanuli stretches into the heart of the Batta country, and its shores are everywhere inhabited by that people, who barter the produce of their land for the articles they stand in need of from abroad, but do not themselves make voyages by sea. Navigators assert that the natural advantages of this bay are scarcely surpassed in any other part of the globe; that all the navies of the world might ride there with perfect security in every weather; and that such is the complication of anchoring-places within each other that a large ship could be so hid in them as not to be found without a tedious search. At the island of Punchong kechil, on which our settlement stands, it is a common practice to moor the vessels by a hawser to a tree on shore. Timber for masts and yards is to be procured in the various creeks with great facility. Not being favourably situated with respect to the general track of outward and homeward-bound shipping, and its distance from the principal seat of our important Indian concerns being considerable, it has not hitherto been much used for any great naval purposes; but at the same time our government should be aware of the danger that might arise from suffering any other maritime power to get footing in a place of this description. The natives are in general inoffensive, and have given little disturbance to our establishments; but parties of Achinese traders (without the concurrence or knowledge, as there is reason to believe, of their own government), jealous of our commercial influence, long strove to drive us from the bay by force of arms, and we were under the necessity of carrying on a petty warfare for many years in order to secure our tranquillity. In the year 1760 Tappanuli was taken by a squadron of French ships under the command of the Comte d'Estaing; and in October 1809, being nearly defenceless, it was again taken by the Creole French frigate, Captain Ripaud, joined afterwards by the Venus and La Manche; under the orders of Commodore Hamelin. By the terms of the surrender private property was to be secured, but in a few days, after the most friendly assurances had been given to the acting resident, with whom the French officers were living, this engagement was violated under the ill-founded pretence that some gold had been secreted, and everything belonging to the English gentlemen and ladies, as well as to the native settlers, was plundered or destroyed by fire, with circumstances of atrocity and brutality that would have disgraced savages. The garden-house of the chief (Mr. Prince, who happened to be then absent from Tappanuli) at Batu-buru on the main was likewise burned, together with his horses, and his cattle were shot at and maimed. Even the books of accounts, containing the statement of outstanding debts due to the trading-concern of the place were, in spite of every entreaty, maliciously destroyed or carried off, by which an irreparable loss, from which the enemy could not derive a benefit, is sustained by the unfortunate sufferers. It cannot be supposed that the government of a great and proud empire can give its sanction to this disgraceful mode of carrying on war. In the Philosophical Transactions for the year 1778 is a brief account of the Batta country and the manners of its inhabitants, extracted from the private letters of Mr. Charles Miller, the Company's botanist, whose observations I have had repeated occasion to quote. I shall now communicate to the reader the substance of a report made by him of a journey performed in company with Mr. Giles Holloway, then resident of Tappanuli, through the interior of the country of which we are now speaking, with a view to explore its productions, particularly the cassia, which at that time was thought likely to prove an object of commerce worthy of attention. MR. MILLER'S JOURNEY INTO THE COUNTRY. Says Mr. Miller: Previously to our setting out on this journey we consulted people who had formerly been engaged in the cassia-trade with regard to the most proper places to visit. They informed us that the trees were to be found in two different districts; namely in the inland parts to the northward of the old settlement at Tappanuli; and also in the country of Padambola, which lies between fifty and sixty miles more to the southward. They advised us to prefer going into the Padambola country, although the more distant, on account of the inhabitants of the Tappanuli country (as they represented) being frequently troublesome to strangers. They also told me there were two kinds of the kulit manis, the one of which, from their account of it, I was in hopes might prove to be the true cinnamon-tree. June 21st, 1772. We set out from Pulo Punchong and went in boats to the quallo (mouth or entrance) of Pinang Suri river, which is in the bay, about ten or twelve miles south-east of Punchong. Next morning we went up the river in sampans, and in about six hours arrived at a place called quallo Lumut. The whole of the land on both sides of the river is low, covered with wood, and uninhabited. In these woods I observed camphor trees, two species of oak, maranti, rangi, and several other timber-trees. About a quarter of a mile from that place, on the opposite side of the river, is a Batta kampong, situated on the summit of a regular and very beautiful little hill, which rises in a pyramidical form, in the middle of a small meadow. The raja of this kampong, being informed by the Malays that we were at their houses, came over to see us, and invited us to his house, where we were received with great ceremony, and saluted with about thirty guns. This kampong consists of about eight or ten houses, with their respective padi-houses. It is strongly fortified with a double fence of strong rough camphor planks, driven deep into the earth, and about eight or nine feet high, so placed that their points project considerably outward. These fences are about twelve feet asunder, and in the space between them the buffaloes are kept at night. Without-side these fences they plant a row of a prickly kind of bamboo, which forms an almost impenetrable hedge from twelve to twenty feet thick. In the sapiyau or building in which the raja receives strangers we saw a man's skull hanging up, which he told us was hung there as a trophy, it being the skull of an enemy they had taken prisoner, whose body (according to the custom of the Battas) they had eaten about two months before. June 23rd. We walked through a level woody country to the kampong of Lumut, and next day to Sa­tarong, where I observed several plantations of benzoin-trees, some cotton, indigo, turmeric, tobacco, and a few pepper-vines. We next proceeded to Tappolen, to Sikia, and to Sa-pisang. This last is situated on the banks of Batang-tara river, three or four days' journey from the sea; so that our course had hitherto been nearly parallel to the coast. July 1st. We left Sa-pisang and took a direction towards the hills, following nearly the course of the Batang-tara. We travelled all this day through a low, woody, and entirely uncultivated country, which afforded nothing worthy of observation. Our guide had proposed to reach a kampong, called Lumbu; but missing the road we were obliged to wade up the river between four and five miles, and at length arrived at a ladang extremely fatigued; where the badness of the weather obliged us to stop and take up our quarters in an open padi-shed. The next day the river was so swelled by the heavy rain which had fallen the preceding day that we could not prosecute our journey, and were obliged to pass it and the remaining night in the same uncomfortable situation. (This is the middle of the dry season in the southern parts of the island.) July 3rd. We left the ladang and walked through a very irregular and uninhabited tract, full of rocks and covered with woods. We this day crossed a ridge of very steep and high hills, and in the afternoon came to an inhabited and well-cultivated country on the edge of the plains of Ancola. We slept this night in a small open shed, and next day proceeded to a kampong called Koto Lambong. July 5th. Went through a more open and very pleasant country to Terimbaru, a large kampong on the southern edge of the plains of Ancola. The land hereabout is entirely clear of wood, and either ploughed and sown with padi or jagong (maize), or used as pasture for their numerous herds of buffaloes, kine, and horses. The raja being informed of our intentions to come there sent his son and between thirty and forty men, armed with lances and matchlock guns, to meet us, who escorted us to their kampong, beating gongs and firing their guns all the way. The raja received us in great form, and with civility ordered a buffalo to be killed, detained us a day, and when we proceeded on our journey sent his son with a party to escort us. I observed that all the unmarried women wore a great number of tin rings in their ears (some having fifty in each ear), which circumstance, together with the appearance of the country, seemed to indicate its abounding with minerals; but on making inquiry I found that the tin was brought from the straits of Malacca. Having made the accustomed presents to the raja we left Terimbaru, July 7th, and proceeded to Sa-masam, the raja of which place, attended by sixty or seventy men, well armed, met us and conducted us to his kampong, where he had prepared a house for our reception, treating us with much hospitality and respect. The country round Sa-masam is full of small hills but clear of wood, and mostly pasture ground for their cattle, of which they have great abundance. I met with nothing remarkable here excepting a prickly shrub called by the natives Andalimon, the seed-vessels and leaves of which have a very agreeable spicy taste, and are used by them in their curries. July 10th. Proceeded on our journey to Batang Onan, the kampong where the Malays used to purchase the cassia from the Battas. After about three hours walk over an open hilly country we again came into thick woods, in which we were obliged to pass the night. The next morning we crossed another ridge of very high hills, covered entirely with woods. In these we saw the wild benzoin-tree. It grows to a much larger size than the cultivated kind, and yields a different sort of resin called kaminian dulong or sweet-scented benzoin. It differs in being commonly in more detached pieces, and having a smell resembling that of almonds when bruised. Arrived at Batang Onan in the afternoon. This kampong is situated in a very extensive plain on the banks of a large river which empties itself into the straits of Malacca, and is said to be navigable for sloops to within a day's journey of Batang Onan. CASSIA-TREES. July 11th. Went to Panka-dulut, the raja of which place claims the property of the cassia-trees, and his people used to cut and cure the bark and transport it to the former place. The nearest trees are about two hours walk from Panka-dulut on a high ridge of mountains. They grow from forty to sixty feet high, and have large spreading heads. They are not cultivated, but grow in the woods. The bark is commonly taken from the bodies of the trees of a foot or foot and half diameter; the bark being so thin, when the trees are younger, as to lose all its qualities very soon. I here inquired for the different sorts of cassia-tree of which I had been told, but was now informed that there was only one sort, and that the difference they mentioned was occasioned entirely by the soil and situation in which the trees grow; that those which grow in a rocky dry soil have red shoots, and their bark is of superior quality to that of trees which grow in moist clay, whose shoots are green. I also endeavoured to get some information with regard to their method of curing and quilling the cassia, and told them my intentions of trying some experiments towards improving its quality and rendering it more valuable. They told me that none had been cut for two years past, on account of a stop being put to the purchases at Tappanuli; and that if I was come with authority to open the trade I should call together the people of the neighbouring kampongs, kill a buffalo for them, and assure them publicly that the cassia would be again received; in which case they would immediately begin to cut and cure it, and would willingly follow any instructions I should give them; but that otherwise they would take no trouble about it. I must observe that I was prevented from getting so satisfactory an account of the cassia as I could have wished by the ill-behaviour of the person who accompanied us as guide, from whom, by his thorough knowledge of the country, and of the cassia-trade, of which he had formerly been the chief manager, we thought we had reason to expect all requisite assistance and information, but who not only refused to give it, but prevented as much as possible our receiving any from the country people. July 14th. We left Batang Onan in order to return, stopped that night at a kampong called Koto Moran, and the next evening reached Sa-masam; from whence we proceeded by a different road from what we had travelled before to Sa­pisang, where we procured sampans, and went down the Batang-tara river to the sea. July 22nd we returned to Pulo Punchong. End of Mr. Miller's Narrative. It has since been understood that they were intentionally misled, and taken by a circuitous route to prevent their seeing a particular kampong of some consideration at the back of Tappanuli, or for some other interested object. Near the latter place, on the main, Mr. John Marsden, who went thither to be present at the funeral of one of their chiefs, observed two old monuments in stone, one the figure of a man, the other of a man on an elephant, tolerably well executed, but they know not by whom, nor is there any among them who could do the same work now. The features were strongly Batta. NATAL. Our settlement at Natal (properly Natar), some miles to the south of the large river of Tabuyong, and on the confines of the Batta country, which extends at the back of it, is a place of much commerce, but not from its natural or political circumstances of importance in other respects. It is inhabited by settlers there, for the convenience of trade, from the countries of Achin, Rau, and Menangkabau, who render it populous and rich. Gold of very fine quality is procured from the country (some of the mines being said to lie within ten miles of the factory), and there is a considerable vent for imported goods, the returns for which are chiefly made in that article and camphor. Like other Malayan towns it is governed by datus, the chief of whom, styled datu besar or chief magistrate, has considerable sway; and although the influence of the Company is here predominant its authority is by no means so firmly established as in the pepper-districts to the southward, owing to the number of people, their wealth, and enterprising, independent spirit.* It may be said that they are rather managed and conciliated than ruled. They find the English useful as moderators between their own contending factions, which often have recourse to arms, even upon points of ceremonious precedence, and are reasoned into accommodation by our resident going among them unattended. At an earlier period our protection was convenient to them against the usurpation, as they termed it, of the Dutch, of whose attempts and claims they were particularly jealous. By an article of the treaty of Paris in 1763 these pretensions were ascertained as they respected the two European powers, and the settlements of Natal and Tappanuli were expressly restored to the English. They had however already been re-occupied. Neither in fact have any right but what proceeds from the will and consent of the native princes. (*Footnote. Upon the re-establishment of the factory in 1762 the resident pointed out to the Datu besar, with a degree of indignation, the number of dead bodies which were frequently seen floating down the river, and proposed his cooperating to prevent assassinations in the country, occasioned by the anarchy the place fell into during the temporary interruption of the Company's influence. "I cannot assent to any measures for that purpose," replied the datu: "I reap from these murders an advantage of twenty dollars a head when the families prosecute." A compensation of thirty dollars per month was offered him, and to this he scarcely submitted, observing that he should be a considerable loser, as there fell in this manner at least three men in the month. At another time, when the resident attempted to carry some regulation into execution, he said, "kami tradah suka begito, orang kaya!" "We do not choose to allow it, sir;" and bared his right arm as a signal of attack to his dependants in case the point had been insisted on. Of late years habit and a sense of mutual interest have rendered them more accommodating.) BATTA GOVERNMENTS. The government of the Batta country, although nominally in the hands of three or more sovereign rajas, is effectively (so far as our intercourse with the people enables us to ascertain) divided into numberless petty chiefships, the heads of which, also styled rajas, have no appearance of being dependant upon any superior power, but enter into associations with each other, particularly with those belonging to the same tribe, for mutual defence and security against any distant enemy. They are at the same time extremely jealous of any increase of their relative power, and on the slightest pretext a war breaks out between them. The force of different kampongs is notwithstanding this very unequal, and some rajas possess a much more extensive sway than others; and it must needs be so, where every man who can get a dozen followers and two or three muskets sets up for independence. Inland of a place called Sokum great respect was paid to a female chief or uti (which word I conceive to be a liquid pronunciation of putri, a princess), whose jurisdiction comprehended many tribes. Her grandson, who was the reigning prince, had lately been murdered by an invader, and she had assembled an army of two or three thousand men to take revenge. An agent of the Company went up the river about fifteen miles in hopes of being able to accommodate a matter that threatened materially the peace of the country; but he was told by the uti that, unless he would land his men, and take a decided part in her favour, he had no business there, and he was obliged to reembark without effecting anything. The aggressor followed him the same night and made his escape. It does not appear likely, from the manners and dispositions of the people, that the whole of the country was ever united under one supreme head. AUTHORITY OF RAJAS. The more powerful rajas assume authority over the lives of their subjects. The dependants are bound to attend their chief in his journeys and in his wars, and when an individual refuses he is expelled from the society without permission to take his property along with him. They are supplied with food for their expeditions, and allowed a reward for each person they kill. The revenues of the chief arise principally from fines of cattle adjudged in criminal proceedings, which he always appropriates to himself; and from the produce of the camphor and benzoin trees throughout his district; but this is not rigorously insisted upon. When he pays his gaming debts he imposes what arbitrary value he thinks proper on the horses and buffaloes (no coin being used in the country), which he delivers, and his subjects are obliged to accept them at that rate. They are forced to work in their turns, for a certain number of days, in his rice plantations. There is, in like manner, a lesser kind of service for land held of any other person, the tenant being bound to pay his landlord respect wherever he meets him, and to provide him with entertainment whenever he comes to his house. The people seem to have a permanent property in their possessions, selling them to each other as they think fit. If a man plants trees and leaves them, no future occupier can sell them, though he may eat the fruit. Disputes and litigations of any kind that happen between people belonging to the same kampong are settled by a magistrate appointed for that purpose, and from him it is said there is no appeal to the raja: when they arise between persons of different kampongs they are adjusted at a meeting of the respective rajas. When a party is sent down to the Bay to purchase salt or on other business it is accompanied by an officer who takes cognizance of their behaviour, and sometimes punishes on the spot such as are criminal or refractory. This is productive of much order and decency. SUCCESSION. It is asserted that the succession to the chiefships does not go in the first instance to the son of the deceased, but to the nephew by a sister; and that the same extraordinary rule, with respect to property in general, prevails also amongst the Malays of that part of the island, and even in the neighbourhood of Padang. The authorities for this are various and unconnected with each other, but not sufficiently circumstantial to induce me to admit it as a generally established practice. RESPECT FOR THE SULTAN OF MENANGKABAU. Notwithstanding the independent spirit of the Battas, and their contempt of all power that would affect a superiority over their little societies, they have a superstitious veneration for the sultan of Menangkabau, and show blind submission to his relations and emissaries, real or pretended, when such appear among them for the purpose of levying contributions: even when insulted and put in fear of their lives they make no attempt at resistance: they think that their affairs would never prosper; that their padi would be blighted, and their buffaloes die; that they would remain under a kind of spell for offending those sacred messengers. PERSONS. The Battas are in their persons rather below the stature of the Malays, and their complexions are fairer; which may perhaps be owing to their distance, for the most part, from the sea, an element they do not at all frequent. DRESS. Their dress is commonly of a sort of cotton cloth manufactured by themselves, thick, harsh, and wiry, about four astas or cubits long, and two in breadth, worn round the middle, with a scarf over the shoulder. These are of mixed colours, the prevalent being a brownish red and a blue approaching to black. They are fond of adorning them, particularly the scarf, with strings and tassels of beads. The covering of the head is usually the bark of a tree, but the superior class wear a strip of foreign blue cloth in imitation of the Malayan destars, and a few have bajus (outer garments) of chintz. The young women, beside the cloth round the middle, have one over the breasts, and (as noticed in Mr. Miller's journal) wear in their ears numerous rings of tin, as well as several large rings of thick brass wire round their necks. On festival days however they ornament themselves with earrings of gold, hair-pins, of which the heads are fashioned like birds or dragons, a kind of three-cornered breastplate, and hollow rings upon the upper arm, all, in like manner, of gold. The kima shell, which abounds in the bay, is likewise worked into arm-rings, whiter, and taking a better polish than ivory. ARMS. Their arms are matchlock guns, with which they are expert marksmen, bamboo lances or spears with long iron heads, and a side-weapon called jono, which resembles and is worn as a sword rather than a kris. The cartridge-boxes are provided with a number of little wooden cases, each containing a charge for the piece. In these are carried likewise the match, and the smaller ranjaus, the longer being in a joint of bamboo, slung like a quiver over the shoulder. They have machines curiously carved and formed like the beak of a large bird for holding bullets, and others of peculiar construction for a reserve of powder. These hang in front. On the right side hang the flint and steel, and also the tobacco-pipe. Their guns, the locks of which {for holding the match) are of copper, they are supplied with by traders from Menangkabau; the swords are of their own workmanship, and they also manufacture their own gunpowder, extracting the saltpetre, as it is said, from the soil taken from under houses that have been long inhabited (which in consequence of an uncleanly practice is strongly impregnated with animal salts), together with that collected in places where goats are kept. Through this earth water is filtered, and being afterwards suffered to evaporate the saltpetre is found at the bottom of the vessel. Their proper standard in war is a horse's head, from whence flows a long mane or tail; beside which they have colours of red or white cloth. For drums they use gongs, and in action set up a kind of war­whoop. WARFARE. The spirit of war is excited among these people by small provocation, and their resolutions for carrying it into effect are soon taken. Their life appears in fact to be a perpetual state of hostility, and they are always prepared for attack and defence. When they proceed to put their designs into execution the first act of defiance is firing, without ball, into the kampong of their enemies. Three days are then allowed for the party fired upon to propose terms of accommodation, and if this is not done, or the terms are such as cannot be agreed to, war is then fully declared. This ceremony of firing with powder only is styled carrying smoke to the adversary. During the course of their wars, which sometimes last for two or three years, they seldom meet openly in the field or attempt to decide their contest by a general engagement, as the mutual loss of a dozen men might go near to ruin both parties, nor do they ever engage hand to hand, but keep at a pretty safe distance, seldom nearer than random-shot, excepting in case of sudden surprise. They march in single files, and usually fire kneeling. It is not often that they venture a direct attack upon each other's works, but watch opportunities of picking off stragglers passing through the woods. A party of three or four will conceal themselves near the footways, and if they see any of their foes they fire and run away immediately; planting ranjaus after them to prevent pursuit. On these occasions a man will subsist upon a potato a day, in which they have much the advantage of the Malays (against whom they are often engaged in warfare), who require to be better fed. FORTIFICATIONS. They fortify their kampongs with large ramparts of earth, halfway up which they plant brushwood. There is a ditch without the rampart, and on each side of that a tall palisade of camphor timber. Beyond this is an impenetrable hedge of prickly bamboo, which when of sufficient growth acquires an extraordinary density, and perfectly conceals all appearance of a town. Ranjaus, of a length both for the body and the feet, are disposed without all these, and render the approaches hazardous to assailants who are almost naked. At each corner of the fortress, instead of a tower or watch-house, they contrive to have a tall tree, which they ascend to reconnoitre or fire from. But they are not fond of remaining on the defensive in these fortified villages, and therefore, leaving a few to guard them, usually advance into the plains, and throw up temporary breast-works and entrenchments. TRADE. The natives of the sea-coast exchange their benzoin, camphor, and cassia (the quantity of gold-dust is very inconsiderable) for iron, steel, brass-wire, and salt, of which last article a hundred thousand bamboo measures are annually taken off in the bay of Tappanuli. These they barter again with the more inland inhabitants, in the mode that shall presently be described, for the products and manufactures of the country, particularly the home-made cloth; a very small quantity of cotton piece-goods being imported from the coast and disposed of to the natives. What they do take off is chiefly blue-cloth for the head, and chintz. FAIRS HELD. For the convenience of carrying on the inland-trade there are established at the back of Tappanuli, which is their great mart, four stages, at which successively they hold public fairs or markets on every fourth day throughout the year; each fair, of course, lasting one day. The people in the district of the fourth stage assemble with their goods at the appointed place, to which those of the third resort in order to purchase them. The people of the third, in like manner, supply the wants of the second, and the second of the first, who dispose, on the day the market is held, of the merchandise for which they have trafficked with the Europeans and Malays. On these occasions all hostilities are suspended. Each man who possesses a musket carries it with a green bough in the muzzle, as a token of peace, and afterwards, when he comes to the spot, following the example of the director or manager of the party, discharges the loading into a mound of earth, in which, before his departure, he searches for his ball. There is but one house at the place where the market is held, and that is for the purpose of gaming. The want of booths is supplied by the shade of regular rows of fruit-trees, mostly durian, of which one avenue is reserved for the women. The dealings are conducted with order and fairness; the chief remaining at a little distance, to be referred to in case of dispute, and a guard is at hand, armed with lances, to keep the peace; yet with all this police, which bespeaks civilization, I have been assured by those who have had an opportunity of attending their meetings that in the whole of their appearance and deportment there is more of savage life than is observed in the manners of the Rejangs, or inhabitants of Lampong. Traders from the remoter Batta districts, lying north and south, assemble at these periodical markets, where all their traffic is carried on, and commodities bartered. They are not however peculiar to this country, being held, among other places, at Batang-kapas and Ipu. By the Malays they are termed onan. ESTIMATE BY COMMODITIES INSTEAD OF COIN. Having no coin all value is estimated among them by certain commodities. In trade they calculate by tampangs (cakes) of benzoin; in transactions among themselves more commonly by buffaloes: sometimes brass wire and sometimes beads are used as a medium. A galang, or ring of brass wire, represents about the value of a dollar. But for small payments salt is the most in use. A measure called a salup, weighing about two pounds, is equal to a fanam or twopence-halfpenny: a balli, another small measure, goes for four keppeng, or three-fifths of a penny. FOOD. The ordinary food of the lower class of people is maize and sweet-potatoes, the rajas and great men alone indulging themselves with rice. Some mix them together. It is only on public occasions that they kill cattle for food; but not being delicate in their appetites they do not scruple to eat part of a dead buffalo, hog, rat, alligator, or any wild animal with which they happen to meet. Their rivers are said not to abound with fish. Horse-flesh they esteem their most exquisite meat, and for this purpose feed them upon grain and pay great attention to their keep. They are numerous in the country, and the Europeans at Bencoolen are supplied with many good ones from thence, but not with the finest, as these are reserved for their festivals. They have also, says Mr. Miller, great quantities of small black dogs, with erect pointed ears, which they fatten and eat. Toddy or palm-wine they drink copiously at their feasts. BUILDINGS. The houses are built with frames of wood, with the sides of boards, and roof covered with iju. They usually consist of a single large room, which is entered by a trap-door in the middle. The number seldom exceeds twenty in one kampong; but opposite to each is a kind of open building that serves for sitting in during the day, and as a sleeping­place for the unmarried men at night. These together form a sort of street. To each kampong there is also a balei, where the inhabitants assemble for transacting public business, celebrating feasts, and the reception of strangers, whom they entertain with frankness and hospitality. At the end of this building is a place divided off, from whence the women see the spectacles of fencing and dancing; and below that is a kind of orchestra for music. DOMESTIC MANNERS. The men are allowed to marry as many wives as they please, or can afford, and to have half a dozen is not uncommon. Each of these sits in a different part of the large room, and sleeps exposed to the others; not being separated by any partition or distinction of apartments. Yet the husband finds it necessary to allot to each of them their several fireplaces and cooking utensils, where they dress their own victuals separately, and prepare his in turns. How is this domestic state and the flimsiness of such an imaginary barrier to be reconciled with our ideas of the furious, ungovernable passions of love and jealousy supposed to prevail in an eastern harem? or must custom be allowed to supersede all other influence, both moral and physical? In other respects they differ little in their customs relating to marriage from the rest of the island. The parents of the girl always receive a valuable consideration (in buffaloes or horses) from the person to whom she is given in marriage; which is returned when a divorce takes place against the man's inclination. The daughters as elsewhere are looked upon as the riches of the fathers. CONDITION OF WOMEN. The condition of the women appears to be no other than that of slaves, the husbands having the power of selling their wives and children. They alone, beside the domestic duties, work in the rice plantations. These are prepared in the same mode as in the rest of the island; except that in the central parts, the country being clearer, the plough and harrow, drawn by buffaloes, are more used. The men, when not engaged in war, their favourite occupation, commonly lead an idle, inactive life, passing the day in playing on a kind of flute, crowned with garlands of flowers; among which the globe-amaranthus, a native of the country, mostly prevails. HORSERACING. They are said however to hunt deer on horseback, and to be attached to the diversion of horseracing. They ride boldly without a saddle or stirrups, frequently throwing their hands upwards whilst pushing their horse to full speed. The bit of the bridle is of iron, and has several joints; the head-stall and reins of rattan: in some parts the reins, or halter rather, is of iju, and the bit of wood. They are, like the rest of the Sumatrans, much addicted to gaming, and the practice is under no kind of restraint, until it destroys itself by the ruin of one of the parties. When a man loses more money than he is able to pay he is confined and sold as a slave; being the most usual mode by which they become such. A generous winner will sometimes release his unfortunate adversary upon condition of his killing a horse and making a public entertainment. LANGUAGE. They have, as was before observed, a language and written character peculiar to themselves, and which may be considered, in point of originality, as equal at least to any other in the island, and although, like the languages of Java, Celebes, and the Philippines, it has many terms in common with the Malayan (being all, in my judgment, from one common stock), yet, in the way of encroachment, from the influence, both political and religious, acquired by its immediate neighbours, the Batta tongue appears to have experienced less change than any other. For a specimen of its words, its alphabet, and the rules by which the sound of its letters is modified and governed, the reader is referred to the Table and Plate above. It is remarkable that the proportion of the people who are able to read and write is much greater than of those who do not; a qualification seldom observed in such uncivilized parts of the world, and not always found in the more polished. WRITING. Their writing for common purposes is, like that already described in speaking of the Rejangs, upon pieces of bamboo. BOOKS. Their books (and such they may with propriety be termed) are composed of the inner bark of a certain tree cut into long slips and folded in squares, leaving part of the wood at each extremity to serve for the outer covering. The bark for this purpose is shaved smooth and thin, and afterwards rubbed over with rice-water. The pen they use is a twig or the fibre of a leaf, and their ink is made of the soot of dammar mixed with the juice of the sugar-cane. The contents of their books are little known to us. The writing of most of those in my possession is mixed with uncouth representations of scolopendra and other noxious animals, and frequent diagrams, which imply their being works of astrology and divination. These they are known to consult in all the transactions of life, and the event is predicted by the application of certain characters marked on a slip of bamboo, to the lines of the sacred book, with which a comparison is made. But this is not their only mode of divining. Before going to war they kill a buffalo or a fowl that is perfectly white, and by observing the motion of the intestines judge of the good or ill fortune likely to attend them; and the priest who performs this ceremony had need to be infallible, for if he predicts contrary to the event it is said that he is sometimes punished with death for his want of skill. Exclusively however of these books of necromancy there are others containing legendary and mythological tales, of which latter a sample will be given under the article of religion. REMARK BY DR. LEYDEN. Dr. Leyden, in his Dissertation on the Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese nations, says that the Batta character is written neither from right to left, nor from left to right, nor from top to bottom, but in a manner directly opposite to that of the Chinese, from the bottom to the top of the line, and that I have conveyed an erroneous idea of their natural form by arranging the characters horizontally instead of placing them in a perpendicular line. Not having now the opportunity of verifying by ocular proof what I understood to be the practical order of their writing, namely, from left to right (in the manner of the Hindus, who, there is reason to believe, were the original instructors of all these people), I shall only observe that I have among my papers three distinct specimens of the Batta alphabet, written by different natives at different periods, and all of them are horizontal. But I am at the same time aware that as this was performed in the presence of Europeans, and upon our paper, they might have deviated from their ordinary practice, and that the evidence is therefore not conclusive. It might be presumed indeed that the books themselves would be sufficient criterion; but according to the position in which they are held they may be made to sanction either mode, although it is easy to determine by simple inspection the commencement of the lines. In the Batavian Transactions (Volume 3 page 23) already so often quoted, it is expressly said that these people write like Europeans from the left hand towards the right: and in truth it is not easy to conceive how persons making use of ink can conduct the hand from the bottom to the top of a page without marring their own performance. But still a matter of fact, if such it be, cannot give way to argument, and I have no object but to ascertain the truth. RELIGION. Their religion, like that of all other inhabitants of the island who are not Mahometans, is so obscure in its principles as scarcely to afford room to say that any exists among them. Yet they have rather more of ceremony and observance than those of Rejang or Passummah, and there is an order of persons by them called guru (a well-known Hindu term), who may be denominated priests, as they are employed in administering oaths, foretelling lucky and unlucky days, making sacrifices, and the performance of funeral rites. For a knowledge of their theogony we are indebted to M. Siberg, governor of the Dutch settlements on the coast of Sumatra, by whom the following account was communicated to the late M. Radermacher, a distinguished member of the Batavian Society, and by him published in its Transactions. MYTHOLOGY. The inhabitants of this country have many fabulous stories, which shall be briefly mentioned. They acknowledge three deities as rulers of the world, who are respectively named Batara-guru, Sori-pada, and Mangalla-bulang. The first, say they, bears rule in heaven, is the father of all mankind, and partly, under the following circumstances, creator of the earth, which from the beginning of time had been supported on the head of Naga-padoha, but, growing weary at length, he shook his head, which occasioned the earth to sink, and nothing remained in the world excepting water. They do not pretend to a knowledge of the creation of this original earth and water, but say that at the period when the latter covered everything, the chief deity, Batara­guru, had a daughter named Puti-orla-bulan, who requested permission to descend to these lower regions, and accordingly came down on a white owl, accompanied by a dog; but not being able, by reason of the waters, to continue there, her father let fall from heaven a lofty mountain, named Bakarra, now situated in the Batta country, as a dwelling for his child; and from this mountain all other land gradually proceeded. The earth was once more supported on the three horns of Naga-padoha, and that he might never again suffer it to fall off Batara-guru sent his son, named Layang-layang-mandi (literally the dipping swallow) to bind him hand and foot. But to his occasionally shaking his head they ascribe the effect of earthquakes. Puti-orla-bulan had afterwards, during her residence on earth, three sons and three daughters, from whom sprang the whole human race. The second of their deities has the rule of the air betwixt earth and heaven, and the third that of the earth; but these two are considered as subordinate to the first. Besides these they have as many inferior deities as there are sensible objects on earth, or circumstances in human society; of which some preside over the sea, others over rivers, over woods, over war, and the like. They believe likewise in four evil spirits, dwelling in four separate mountains, and whatever ill befalls them they attribute to the agency of one of these demons. On such occasions they apply to one of their cunning men, who has recourse to his art, and by cutting a lemon ascertains which of these has been the author of the mischief, and by what means the evil spirit may be propitiated; which always proves to be the sacrificing a buffalo, hog, goat, or whatever animal the wizard happens on that day to be most inclined to eat. When the address is made to any of the superior and beneficent deities for assistance, and the priest directs an offering of a horse, cow, dog, hog, or fowl, care must be taken that the animal to be sacrificed is entirely white. They have also a vague and confused idea of the immortality of the human soul, and of a future state of happiness or misery. They say that the soul of a dying person makes its escape through the nostrils, and is borne away by the wind, to heaven, if of a person who has led a good life, but if of an evil-doer, to a great cauldron, where it shall be exposed to fire until such time as Batara-guru shall judge it to have suffered punishment proportioned to its sins, and feeling compassion shall take it to himself in heaven: that finally the time shall come when the chains and bands of Naga-padoha shall be worn away, and he shall once more allow the earth to sink, that the sun will be then no more than a cubit's distance from it, and that the souls of those who, having lived well, shall remain alive at the last day, shall in like manner go to heaven, and those of the wicked, be consigned to the before-mentioned cauldron, intensely heated by the near approach of the sun's rays, to be there tormented by a minister of Batara-guru, named Suraya-guru, until, having expiated their offences, they shall be thought worthy of reception into the heavenly regions. ... To the Sanskrit scholar who shall make allowances for corrupt orthography many of these names will be familiar. For Batara he will read avatara; and in Naga-padoha he will recognise the serpent on whom Vishnu reposes. OATHS. Their ceremonies that wear most the appearance of religion are those practised on taking an oath, and at their funeral obsequies. A person accused of a crime and who asserts his innocence is in some cases acquitted upon solemnly swearing to it, but in others is obliged to undergo a kind of ordeal. A cock's throat is usually cut on the occasion by the guru. The accused then puts a little rice into his mouth (probably dry), and wishes it may become a stone if he be guilty of the crime with which he stands charged, or, holding up a musket bullet, prays it may be his fate in that case to fall in battle. In more important instances they put a small leaden or tin image into the middle of a dish of rice, garnished with those bullets; when the man, kneeling down, prays that his crop of rice may fail, his cattle die, and that he himself may never take salt (a luxury as well as necessary of life), if he does not declare the truth. These tin images may be looked upon as objects of idolatrous worship; but I could not learn that any species of adoration was paid to them on other occasions any more than to certain stone images which have been mentioned. Like the relics of saints, they are merely employed to render the form of the oath more mysterious, and thereby increase the awe with which it should be regarded. FUNERAL CEREMONIES. When a raja or person of consequence dies the funeral usually occupies several months; that is, the corpse is kept unburied until the neighbouring and distant chiefs, or, in common cases, the relations and creditors of the deceased, can be convened in order to celebrate the rites with becoming dignity and respect. Perhaps the season of planting or of harvest intervenes, and these necessary avocations must be attended to before the funeral ceremonies can be concluded. The body however is in the meantime deposited in a kind of coffin. To provide this they fell a large tree (the anau in preference, because of the softness of the central part, whilst the outer coat is hard), and, having cut a portion of the stem of sufficient length, they split it in two parts, hollow each part so as to form a receptacle for the body, and then fit them exactly together. The workmen take care to sprinkle the wood with the blood of a young hog, whose flesh is given to them as a treat. The coffin being thus prepared and brought into the house the body is placed in it, with a mat beneath, and a cloth laid over it. Where the family can afford the expense it is strewed over with camphor. Having now placed the two parts in close contact they bind them together with rattans, and cover the whole with a thick coating of dammar or resin. In some instances they take the precaution of inserting a bamboo-tube into the lower part, which, passing thence through the raised floor into the ground, serves to carry off the offensive matter; so that in fact little more than the bones remain. When the relations and friends are assembled, each of whom brings with him a buffalo, hog, goat, dog, fowl, or other article of provision, according to his ability, and the women baskets of rice, which are presented and placed in order, the feasting begins and continues for nine days and nights, or so long as the provisions hold out. On the last of these days the coffin is carried out and set in an open space, where it is surrounded by the female mourners, on their knees, with their heads covered, and howling (ululantes) in dismal concert, whilst the younger persons of the family are dancing near it, in solemn movement, to the sound of gongs, kalintangs, and a kind of flageolet; at night it is returned to the house, where the dancing and music continues, with frequent firing of guns, and on the tenth day the body is carried to the grave, preceded by the guru or priest, whose limbs are tattooed in the shape of birds and beasts, and painted of different colours,* with a large wooden mask on his face. (*Footnote. It is remarkable that in the Bisayan language of the Philippines the term for people so marked, whom the Spaniards call pintados, is batuc. This practice is common in the islands near the coast of Sumatra, as will hereafter be noticed. It seems to have prevailed in many parts of the farther East, as Siam, Laos, and several of the islands.) He takes a piece of buffalo-flesh, swings it about, throwing himself into violent attitudes and strange contortions, and then eats the morsel in a voracious manner. He then kills a fowl over the corpse, letting the blood run down upon the coffin, and just before it is moved both he and the female mourners, having each a broom in their hands, sweep violently about it, as if to chase away the evil spirits and prevent their joining in the procession, when suddenly four men, stationed for the purpose, lift up the coffin, and march quickly off with it, as if escaping from the fiend, the priest continuing to sweep after it for some distance. It is then deposited in the ground, without any peculiar ceremony, at the depth of three or four feet; the earth about the grave is raised, a shed built over it, further feasting takes place on the spot for an indefinite time, and the horns and jaw-bones of the buffaloes and other cattle devoured on the occasion are fastened to the posts. Mr. John and Mr. Frederick Marsden were spectators of the funeral of a raja at Tappanuli on the main. Mr. Charles Miller mentions his having been present at killing the hundred and sixth buffalo at the grave of a raja, in a part of the country where the ceremony was sometimes continued even a year after the interment; and that they seem to regard their ancestors as a kind of superior beings, attendant always upon them. CRIMES. The crimes committed here against the order and peace of society are said not to be numerous. Theft amongst themselves is almost unknown, being strictly honest in their dealings with each other; but when discovered the offender is made answerable for double the value of the goods stolen. Pilfering indeed from strangers, when not restrained by the laws of hospitality, they are expert at, and think no moral offence; because they do not perceive that any ill results from it. Open robbery and murder are punishable with death if the parties are unable to redeem their lives by a sum of money. A person guilty of manslaughter is obliged to bear the expense attending the interment of the deceased and the funeral-feast given to his friends, or, if too poor to accomplish this it is required of his nearest relation, who is empowered to reimburse himself by selling the offender as a slave. In cases of double adultery the man, upon detection, is punished with death, in the manner that shall presently be described; but the woman is only disgraced, by having her head shaven and being sold for a slave, which in fact she was before. This distribution of justice must proceed upon the supposition of the females being merely passive subjects, and of the men alone possessing the faculties of free agents. A single man concerned in adultery with a married woman is banished or outlawed by his own family. The lives of culprits are in almost all cases redeemable if they or their connections possess property sufficient, the quantum being in some measure at the discretion of the injured party. At the same time it must be observed that, Europeans not being settled amongst these people upon the same footing as in the pepper-districts, we are not so well acquainted either with the principle or the practice of their laws. EXTRAORDINARY CUSTOM. The most extraordinary of the Batta customs, though certainly not peculiar to these people, remains now to be described. Many of the old travellers had furnished the world with accounts of anthropophagi or maneaters, whom they met with in all parts of the old and new world, and their relations, true or false, were in those days, when people were addicted to the marvellous, universally credited. In the succeeding ages, when a more skeptical and scrutinizing spirit prevailed, several of these asserted facts were found upon examination to be false; and men, from a bias inherent in our nature, ran into the opposite extreme. It then became established as a philosophical truth, capable almost of demonstration, that no such race of people ever did or could exist. But the varieties, inconsistencies, and contradictions of human manners are so numerous and glaring that it is scarcely possible to fix any general principle that will apply to all the incongruous races of mankind, or even to conceive an irregularity to which some or other of them have not been accustomed. EAT HUMAN FLESH. The voyages of our late famous circumnavigators, the veracity of whose assertions is unimpeachable, have already proved to the world that human flesh is eaten by the savages of New Zealand; and I can with equal confidence, from conviction of the truth, though not with equal weight of authority, assert that it is also, in these days, eaten in the island of Sumatra by the Batta people, and by them only. Whether or not the horrible custom prevailed more extensively in ancient times I cannot take upon me to ascertain, but the same historians who mention it as practised in this island, and whose accounts were undeservedly looked upon as fabulous, relate it also of many others of the eastern people, and those of the island of Java in particular, who since that period may have become more humanized.* (*Footnote. Mention is made of the Battas and their peculiar customs by the following early writers: NICOLO DI CONTI, 1449. "In a certain part of this island (Sumatra) called Batech, the people eat human flesh. They are continually at war with their neighbours, preserve the skulls of their enemies as treasure, dispose of them as money, and he is accounted the richest man who has most of them in his house." ODOARDUS BARBOSA, 1516. "There is another kingdom to the southward, which is the principal source of gold; and another inland, called Aaru (contiguous to the Batta country) where the inhabitants are pagans, who eat human flesh, and chiefly of those they have slain in war." DE BARROS, 1563. "The natives of that part of the island which is opposite to Malacca, who are called Batas, eat human flesh, and are the most savage and warlike of all the land." BEAULIEU, 1622. "The inland people are independent, and speak a language different from the Malayan. Are idolaters, and eat human flesh; never ransom prisoners, but eat them with pepper and salt. Have no religion, but some polity." LUDOVICO BARTHEMA, in 1505, asserts that the people of Java were cannibals previously to their traffic with the Chinese.) They do not eat human flesh as the means of satisfying the cravings of nature, for there can be no want of sustenance to the inhabitants of such a country and climate, who reject no animal food of any kind; nor is it sought after as a gluttonous delicacy. MOTIVES FOR THIS CUSTOM. The Battas eat it as a species of ceremony; as a mode of showing their detestation of certain crimes by an ignominious punishment; and as a savage display of revenge and insult to their unfortunate enemies. The objects of this barbarous repast are prisoners taken in war, especially if badly wounded, the bodies of the slain, and offenders condemned for certain capital crimes, especially for adultery. Prisoners unwounded (but they are not much disposed to give quarter) may be ransomed or sold as slaves where the quarrel is not too inveterate; and the convicts, there is reason to believe, rarely suffer when their friends are in circumstances to redeem them by the customary equivalent of twenty binchangs or eighty dollars. These are tried by the people of the tribe where the offence was committed, but cannot be executed until their own particular raja has been made acquainted with the sentence, who, when he acknowledges the justice of the intended punishment, sends a cloth to cover the head of the delinquent, together with a large dish of salt and lemons. The unhappy victim is then delivered into the hands of the injured party (if it be a private wrong, or in the case of a prisoner to the warriors) by whom he is tied to a stake; lances are thrown at him from a certain distance by this person, his relations, and friends; and when mortally wounded they run up to him, as if in a transport of passion, cut pieces from the body with their knives, dip them in the dish of salt, lemon-juice, and red pepper, slightly broil them over a fire prepared for the purpose, and swallow the morsels with a degree of savage enthusiasm. Sometimes (I presume, according to the degree of their animosity and resentment) the whole is devoured by the bystanders; and instances have been known where, with barbarity still aggravated, they tear the flesh from the carcase with their teeth. To such a depth of depravity may man be plunged when neither religion nor philosophy enlighten his steps! All that can be said in extenuation of the horror of this diabolical ceremony is that no view appears to be entertained of torturing the sufferers, of increasing or lengthening out the pangs of death; the whole fury is directed against the corpse, warm indeed with the remains of life, but past the sensation of pain. A difference of opinion has existed with respect to the practice of eating the bodies of their enemies actually slain in war; but subsequent inquiry has satisfied me of its being done, especially in the case of distinguished persons, or those who have been accessories to the quarrel. It should be observed that their campaigns (which may be aptly compared to the predatory excursions of our Borderers) often terminate with the loss of not more than half a dozen men on both sides. The skulls of the victims are hung up as trophies in the open buildings in front of their houses, and are occasionally ransomed by their surviving relations for a sum of money. DOUBTS OBVIATED. I have found that some persons (and among them my friend, the late Mr. Alexander Dalrymple) have entertained doubts of the reality of the fact that human flesh is anywhere eaten by mankind as a national practice, and considered the proofs hitherto adduced as insufficient to establish a point of so much moment in the history of the species. It is objected to me that I never was an eyewitness of a Batta feast of this nature, and that my authority for it is considerably weakened by coming through a second, or perhaps a third hand. I am sensible of the weight of this reasoning, and am not anxious to force any man's belief, much less to deceive him by pretences to the highest degree of certainty, when my relation can only lay claim to the next degree; but I must at the same time observe that, according to my apprehension, the refusing assent to fair, circumstantial evidence, because it clashes with a systematic opinion, is equally injurious to the cause of truth with asserting that as positive which is only doubtful. My conviction of the truth of what I have not personally seen (and we must all be convinced of facts to which neither ourselves nor those with whom we are immediately connected could ever have been witnesses) has arisen from the following circumstances, some of less, and some of greater authority. It is in the first place a matter of general and uncontroverted notoriety throughout the island, and I have conversed with many natives of the Batta country (some of them in my own service), who acknowledged the practice, and became ashamed of it after residing amongst more humanized people. It has been my chance to have had no fewer than three brothers and brothers-in-law, beside several intimate friends (of whom some are now in England), chiefs of our settlements of Natal and Tappanuli, of whose information I availed myself, and all their accounts I have found to agree in every material point. The testimony of Mr. Charles Miller, whose name, as well as that of his father, is advantageously known to the literary world, should alone be sufficient for my purpose. In addition to what he has related in his journal he has told me that at one village where he halted the suspended head of a man, whose body had been eaten a few days before, was extremely offensive; and that in conversation with some people of the Ankola district, speaking of their neighbours and occasional enemies of the Pa­dambola district, they described them as an unprincipled race, saying, "We, indeed, eat men as a punishment for their crimes and injuries to us; but they waylay and seize travellers in order to ber-bantei or cut them up like cattle." It is here obviously the admission and not the scandal that should have weight. When Mr. Giles Holloway was leaving Tappanuli and settling his accounts with the natives he expostulated with a Batta man who had been dilatory in his payment. "I would," says the man, "have been here sooner, but my pangulu (superior officer) was detected in familiarity with my wife. He was condemned, and I stayed to eat share of him; the ceremony took us up three days, and it was only last night that we finished him." Mr. Miller was present at this conversation, and the man spoke with perfect seriousness. A native of the island of Nias, who had stabbed a Batta man in a fit of frenzy at Batang-tara river, near Tappanuli bay, and endeavoured to make his escape, was, upon the alarm being given, seized at six in the morning, and before eleven, without any judicial process, was tied to a stake, cut in pieces with the utmost eagerness while yet alive, and eaten upon the spot, partly broiled, but mostly raw. His head was buried under that of the man whom he had murdered. This happened in December 1780, when Mr. William Smith had charge of the settlement. A raja was fined by Mr. Bradley for having caused a prisoner to be eaten at a place too close to the Company's settlement, and it should have been remarked that these feasts are never suffered to take place withinside their own kampongs. Mr. Alexander Hall made a charge in his public accounts of a sum paid to a raja as an inducement to him to spare a man whom he had seen preparing for a victim: and it is in fact this commendable discouragement of the practice by our government that occasions its being so rare a sight to Europeans, in a country where there are no travellers from curiosity, and where the servants of the Company, having appearances to maintain, cannot by their presence as idle spectators give a sanction to proceedings which it is their duty to discourage, although their influence is not sufficient to prevent them. A Batta chief, named raja Niabin, in the year 1775 surprised a neighbouring kampong with which he was at enmity, killed the raja by stealth, carried off the body, and ate it. The injured family complained to Mr. Nairne, the English chief of Natal, and prayed for redress. He sent a message on the subject to Niabin, who returned an insolent and threatening answer. Mr. Nairne, influenced by his feelings rather than his judgment (for these people were quite removed from the Company's control, and our interference in their quarrels was not necessary) marched with a party of fifty or sixty men, of whom twelve were Europeans, to chastise him; but on approaching the village they found it so perfectly enclosed with growing bamboos, within which was a strong paling, that they could not even see the place or an enemy. DEATH OF MR. NAIRNE. As they advanced however to examine the defences a shot from an unseen person struck Mr. Nairne in the breast, and he expired immediately. In him was lost a respectable gentleman of great scientific acquirements, and a valuable servant of the Company. It was with much difficulty that the party was enabled to save the body. A caffree and a Malay who fell in the struggle were afterwards eaten. Thus the experience of later days is found to agree with the uniform testimony of old writers; and although I am aware that each and every of these proofs taken singly may admit of some cavil, yet in the aggregate they will be thought to amount to satisfactory evidence that human flesh is habitually eaten by a certain class of the inhabitants of Sumatra. That this extraordinary nation has preserved the rude genuineness of its character and manners may be attributed to various causes; as the want of the precious metals in its country to excite the rapacity of invaders or avarice of colonists, the vegetable riches of the soil being more advantageously obtained in trade from the unmolested labours of the natives; their total unacquaintance with navigation; the divided nature of their government and independence of the petty chieftains. which are circumstances unfavourable to the propagation of new opinions and customs, as the contrary state of society may account for the complete conversion of the subjects of Menangkabau to the faith of Mahomet; and lastly the ideas entertained of the ferociousness of the people from the practices above described, which may well be supposed to have damped the ardour and restrained the zealous attempts of religious innovators. CHAPTER 21. KINGDOM OF ACHIN. ITS CAPITAL. AIR. INHABITANTS. COMMERCE. MANUFACTURES. NAVIGATION. COIN. GOVERNMENT. REVENUES. PUNISHMENTS. Achin (properly Acheh) is the only kingdom of Sumatra that ever arrived to such a degree of political consequence in the eyes of the western people as to occasion its transactions becoming the subject of general history. But its present condition is widely different from what it was when by its power the Portuguese were prevented from gaining a footing in the island, and its princes received embassies from all the great potentates of Europe. SITUATION. Its situation occupies the north-western extreme of the island, bordering generally on the country of the Battas; but, strictly speaking, its extent, inland, reaches no farther than about fifty miles to the south­east. Along the north and eastern coast its territory was considered in 1778 as reaching to a place called Karti, not far distant from Batu­bara river, including Pidir, Samerlonga, and Pase. On the western coast, where it formerly boasted a dominion as far down as Indrapura, and possessed complete jurisdiction at Tiku, it now extends no farther than Barus; and even there, or at the intermediate ports, although the Achinese influence is predominant and its merchants enjoy the trade, the royal power seems to be little more than nominal. The interior inhabitants from Achin to Singkel are distinguished into those of Allas, Riah, and Karrau. The Achinese manners prevail among the two former; but the last resemble the Battas, from whom they are divided by a range of mountains. CAPITAL. The capital stands on a river which empties itself by several channels near the north-west point of the island, or Achin Head, about a league from the sea, where the shipping lies in a road rendered secure by the shelter of several islands. The depth of water on the bar being no more than four feet at low-water spring-tides, only the vessels of the country can venture to pass it; and in the dry monsoon not even those of the larger class. The town is situated on a plain, in a wide valley formed like an amphitheatre by lofty ranges of hills. It is said to be extremely populous, containing eight thousand houses, built of bamboos and rough timbers, standing distinct from each other and mostly raised on piles some feet above the ground in order to guard against the effects of inundation. The appearance of the place and nature of the buildings differ little from those of the generality of Malayan bazaars, excepting that its superior wealth has occasioned the erection of a greater number of public edifices, chiefly mosques, but without the smallest pretension to magnificence. The country above the town is highly cultivated, and abounds with small villages and groups of three or four houses, with white mosques interspersed.* (*Footnote. The following description of the appearance of Achin, by a Jesuit missionary who touched there in his way to China in 1698, is so picturesque, and at the same time so just, that I shall make no apology for introducing it. Imaginez vous une foret de cocotiers, de bambous, d'ananas, de bagnaniers, au milieu de laquelle passe une assez belle riviere toute couverte de bateaux; mettez dans cette foret une nombre incroyable de maisons faites avec de cannes, de roseaux, des ecorces, et disposez les de telle maniere qu'elles forment tantot des rues, et tantot des quartiers separes: coupez ces divers quartiers de prairies et de bois: repandez par tout dans cette grande foret, autant d'hommes qu'on en voit dans nos villes, lorsqu'elles sont bien peuplees; vous vous formerez une idee assez juste d'Achen; et vous conviendrez qu'une ville de ce gout nouveau peut faire plaisir a des etrangers qui passent. Elle me parut d'abord comme ces paysages sortis de l'imagination d'un peintre ou d'un poete, qui rassemble sous un coup d'oeil, tout ce que la campagne a de plus riant. Tout est neglige et naturel, champetre et meme un peu sauvage. Quand on est dans la rade, on n'appercoit aucun vestige, ni aucune apparence de ville, parceque des grands arbres qui bordent le rivage en cachent toutes les maisons; mais outre le paysage qui est tres beau, rien n'est plus agreable que de voir de matin un infinite de petits bateaux de pecheurs qui sortent de la riviere avec le jour, et qui ne rentrent que le soir, lorsque le soleil se couche. Vous diriez un essaim d'abeilles qui reviennent a la cruche chargees du fruit de leur travail. Lettres Edifiantes Tome 1. For a more modern account of this city I beg leave to refer the reader to Captain Thomas Forrest's Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago pages 38 to 60, where he will find a lively and natural description of everything worthy of observation in the place, with a detail of the circumstances attending his own reception at the court, illustrated with an excellent plate.) The king's palace, if it deserves the appellation, is a very rude and uncouth piece of architecture, designed to resist the attacks of internal enemies, and surrounded for that purpose with a moat and strong walls, but without any regular plan, or view to the modern system of military defence.* (*Footnote. Near the gate of the palace are several pieces of brass ordnance of an extraordinary size, of which some are Portuguese; but two in particular, of English make, attract curiosity. They were sent by king James the first to the reigning monarch of Acheen, and have still the founder's name and the date legible upon them. The diameter of the bore of one is eighteen inches; of the other twenty-two or twenty-four. Their strength however does not appear to be in proportion to the calibre, nor do they seem in other respects to be of adequate dimensions. James, who abhorred bloodshed himself, was resolved that his present should not be the instrument of it to others.) AIR. The air is esteemed comparatively healthy, the country being more free from woods and stagnant water than most other parts; and fevers and dysenteries, to which these local circumstances are supposed to give occasion, are there said to be uncommon. But this must not be too readily credited; for the degree of insalubrity attending situations in that climate is known so frequently to alter, from inscrutable causes, that a person who has resided only two or three years on a spot cannot pretend to form a judgment; and the natives, from a natural partiality, are always ready to extol the healthiness, as well as other imputed advantages, of their native places. INHABITANTS. The Achinese differ much in their persons from the other Sumatrans, being in general taller, stouter, and of darker complexions. They are by no means in their present state a genuine people, but thought, with great appearance of reason, to be a mixture of Battas and Malays, with chulias, as they term the natives of the west of India, by whom their ports have in all ages been frequented. In their dispositions they are more active and industrious than some of their neighbours; they possess more sagacity, have more knowledge of other countries, and as merchants they deal upon a more extensive and liberal footing. But this last observation applies rather to the traders at a distance from the capital and to their transactions than to the conduct observed at Achin, which, according to the temper and example of the reigning monarch, is often narrow, extortionary, and oppressive. Their language is one of the general dialects of the eastern islands, and its affinity to the Batta may be observed in the comparative table; but they make use of the Malayan character. In religion they are Mahometans, and having many priests, and much intercourse with foreigners of the same faith, its forms and ceremonies are observed with some strictness. COMMERCE. Although no longer the great mart of eastern commodities, Achin still carries on a considerable trade, as well with private European merchants as with the natives of that part of the coast of India called Telinga, which is properly the country lying between the Kistna and Godavery rivers; but the name, corrupted by the Malays to Kling, is commonly applied to the whole coast of Coromandel. These supply it with salt, cotton piece-goods, principally those called long-cloth white and blue, and chintz with dark grounds; receiving in return gold-dust, raw silk of inferior quality, betel-nut, patch-leaf (Melissa lotoria, called dilam by the Malays) pepper, sulphur, camphor, and benzoin. The two latter are carried thither from the river of Sungkel, where they are procured from the country of the Battas, and the pepper from Pidir; but this article is also exported from Susu to the amount of about two thousand tons annually, where it sells at the rate of twelve dollars the pikul, chiefly for gold and silver. The quality is not esteemed good, being gathered before it is sufficiently ripe, and it is not cleaned like the Company's pepper. The Americans have been of late years the chief purchasers. The gold collected at Achin comes partly from the mountains in the neighbourhood but chiefly from Nalabu and Susu. Its commerce, independently of that of the out-ports, gives employment to from eight to ten Kling vessels, of a hundred and fifty or two hundred tons burden, which arrive annually from Porto Novo and Coringa about the month of August, and sail again in February and March. These are not permitted to touch at any places under the king's jurisdiction, on the eastern or western coast, as it would be injurious to the profits of his trade, as well as to his revenue from the customs and from the presents exacted on the arrival of vessels, and for which his officers at those distant places would not account with him. It must be understood that the king of Achin, as is usual with the princes of this part of the world, is the chief merchant of his capital, and endeavours to be, to the utmost of his power, the monopolizer of its trade; but this he cannot at all times effect, and the attempt has been the cause of frequent rebellions. There is likewise a ship or two from Surat every year, the property of native merchants there. The country is supplied with opium, taffetas, and muslins from Bengal, and also with iron and many other articles of merchandise, by the European traders. PRODUCTIONS OF THE SOIL. The soil being light and fertile produces abundance of rice, esculent vegetables, much cotton, and the finest tropical fruits. Both the mango and mangustin are said to be of excellent quality. Cattle and other articles of provision are in plenty, and reasonable in price. The plough is there drawn by oxen, and the general style of cultivation shows a skill in agriculture superior to what is seen in other parts of the island. MANUFACTURES. Those few arts and manufactures which are known in other parts of the island prevail likewise here, and some of them are carried to more perfection. A considerable fabric of a thick species of cotton cloth, and of striped or chequered stuff for the short drawers worn both by Malays and Achinese, is established here, and supplies an extensive foreign demand, particularly in the Rau country, where they form part of the dress of the women as well as men. They weave also very handsome and rich silk pieces, of a particular form, for that part of the body­dress which the Malays call kain-sarong; but this manufacture had much decreased at the period when my inquiries were made, owing, as the people said, to an unavoidable failure in the breed of silkworms, but more probably to the decay of industry amongst themselves, proceeding from their continual civil disturbances. NAVIGATION. They are expert and bold navigators, and employ a variety of vessels according to the voyages they have occasion to undertake, and the purposes either of commerce or war for which they design them. The river is covered with a number of small fishing vessels which go to sea with the morning breeze and return in the afternoon with the sea-wind, full laden. These are named koleh, are raised about two streaks on a sampan bottom, have one mast and an upright or square sail, but long in proportion to its breadth, which rolls up. These sometimes make their appearance so far to the southward as Bencoolen. The banting is a trading vessel, of a larger class, having two masts, with upright sails like the former, rising at the stem and stern, and somewhat resembling a Chinese junk, excepting in its size. They have also very long narrow boats, with two masts, and double or single outriggers, called balabang and jalor. These are chiefly used as war-boats, mount guns of the size of swivels, and carry a number of men. For representations of various kinds of vessels employed by these eastern people the reader is referred to the plates in Captain Forrest's two voyages. COIN. They have a small thin adulterated gold coin, rudely stamped with Arabic characters, called mas or massiah. Its current value is said to be about fifteen, and its intrinsic about twelve pence, or five Madras fanams. Eighty of these are equal to the bangkal, of which twenty make a katti. The tail, here an imaginary valuation, is one-fifth of the bang­kal, and equal to sixteen mas. The small leaden money, called pitis or cash, is likewise struck here for the service of the bazaar; but neither these nor the former afford any convenience to the foreign trader. Dollars and rupees pass current, and most other species of coin are taken at a valuation; but payments are commonly made in gold dust, and for that purpose everyone is provided with small scales or steelyards, called daching. They carry their gold about them, wrapped in small pieces of bladder (or rather the integument of the heart), and often make purchases to so small an amount as to employ grains of padi or other seeds for weights. GOVERNMENT. The monarchy is hereditary, and is more or less absolute in proportion to the talents of the reigning prince; no other bounds being set to his authority than the counterbalance or check it meets with from the power of the great vassals, and disaffection of the commonalty. But this resistance is exerted in so irregular a manner, and with so little view to the public good, that nothing like liberty results from it. They experience only an alternative of tyranny and anarchy, or the former under different shapes. Many of the other Sumatran people are in the possession of a very high degree of freedom, founded upon a rigid attachment to their old established customs and laws. The king usually maintains a guard of a hundred sepoys (from the Coromandel coast) about his palace, but pays them indifferently. The grand council of the nation consists of the king or Sultan, the maharaja, laksamana, paduka tuan, and bandhara. Inferior in rank to these are the ulubalangs or military champions, among whom are several gradations of rank, who sit on the king's right hand, and other officers named kajuran, who sit on his left. At his feet sits a woman, to whom he makes known his pleasure: by her it is communicated to a eunuch, who sits next to her, and by him to an officer, named Kajuran Gondang, who then proclaims it aloud to the assembly. There are also present two other officers, one of whom has the government of the Bazaar or market, and the other the superintending and carrying into execution the punishment of criminals. All matters relative to commerce and the customs of the port come under the jurisdiction of the Shabandar, who performs the ceremony of giving the chap or licence for trade; which is done by lifting a golden-hafted kris over the head of the merchant who arrives, and without which he dares not to land his goods. Presents, the value of which are become pretty regularly ascertained, are then sent to the king and his officers. If the stranger be in the style of an ambassador the royal elephants are sent down to carry him and his letters to the monarch's presence; these being first delivered into the hands of a eunuch, who places them in a silver dish, covered with rich silk, on the back of the largest elephant, which is provided with a machine (houdar) for that purpose. Within about a hundred yards of an open hall where the king sits the cavalcade stops, and the ambassador dismounts and makes his obeisance by bending his body and lifting his joined hands to his head. When he enters the palace, if a European, he is obliged to take off his shoes, and having made a second obeisance is seated upon a carpet on the floor, where betel is brought to him. The throne was some years ago of ivory and tortoiseshell; and when the place was governed by queens a curtain of gauze was hung before it, which did not obstruct the audience, but prevented any perfect view. The stranger, after some general discourse, is then conducted to a separate building, where he is entertained with the delicacies of the country by the officers of state, and in the evening returns in the manner he came, surrounded by a prodigious number of lights. On high days (ari raya) the king goes in great state, mounted on an elephant richly caparisoned, to the great mosque, preceded by his ulubalangs, who are armed nearly in the European manner. DIVISION OF THE COUNTRY. The whole kingdom is divided into certain small districts or communities, called mukim, which seem to be equivalent to our parishes, and their number is reckoned at one hundred and ninety, of which seventy­three are situated in the valley of Achin. Of these last are formed three larger districts, named Duo-puluh duo (twenty-two), Duo-puluh-limo (twenty-five), and Duo-puluh-anam (twenty-six), from the number of mukims they respectively contain; each of which is governed by a panglima or provincial governor, with an imam and four pangichis for the service of each mosque. The country is extremely populous; but the computations with which I have been furnished exceed so far all probability that I do not venture to insert them. REVENUES. The regular tax or imposition to which the country is subject, for the use of the crown, is one koyan (about eight hundred gallons) of padi from each mukim, with a bag of rice, and about the value of one Spanish dollar and a half in money, from each proprietor of a house, to be delivered at the king's store in person, in return for which homage he never fails to receive nearly an equivalent in tobacco or some other article. On certain great festivals presents of cattle are made to the king by the orang-kayas or nobles; but it is from the import and export customs on merchandise that the revenue of the crown properly arises, and which of course fluctuates considerably. What Europeans pay is between five and six per cent, but the Kling merchants are understood to be charged with much higher duties; in the whole not less than fifteen, of which twelve in the hundred are taken out of the bales in the first instance, a disparity they are enabled to support by the provident and frugal manner in which they purchase their investments, the cheap rate at which they navigate their vessels, and the manner of retailing their goods to the natives. These sources of wealth are independent of the profit derived from the trade, which is managed for his master by a person who is styled the king's merchant. The revenues of the nobles accrue from taxes which they lay, as feudal lords, upon the produce of the land cultivated by their vassals. At Pidir a measure of rice is paid for every measure of padi sown, which amounts to about a twentieth part. At Nalabu there is a capitation tax of a dollar a year; and at various places on the inland roads there are tolls collected upon provisions and goods which pass to the capital. ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE. The kings of Achin possess a grant of territory along the sea-coast as far down as Bencoolen from the sultan of Menangkabau, whose superiority has always been admitted by them, and will be perhaps so long as he claims no authority over them, and exacts neither tribute nor homage. PUNISHMENTS. Achin has ever been remarkable for the severity with which crimes are punished by their laws; the same rigour still subsists, and there is no commutation admitted, as is regularly established in the southern countries. There is great reason however to conclude that the poor alone experience the rod of justice; the nobles being secure from retribution in the number of their dependants. Petty theft is punished by suspending the criminal from a tree, with a gun or heavy weight tied to his feet; or by cutting off a finger, a hand, or leg, according to the nature of the theft. Many of these mutilated and wretched objects are daily to be seen in the streets. Robbery, on the highway and housebreaking, are punished by drowning, and afterwards exposing the body on a stake for a few days. If the robbery is committed upon an imam or priest the sacrilege is expiated by burning the criminal alive. A man who is convicted of adultery or rape is seldom attempted to be screened by his friends, but is delivered up to the friends and relations of the injured husband or father. These take him to some large plain and, forming themselves in a circle, place him in the middle. A large weapon, called a gadubong, is then delivered to him by one of his family, and if he can force his way through those who surround him and make his escape he is not liable to further prosecution; but it commonly happens that he is instantly cut to pieces. In this case his relations bury him as they would a dead buffalo, refusing to admit the corpse into their house, or to perform any funeral rites. Would it not be reasonable to conclude that the Achinese, with so much discouragement to vice both from law and prejudice, must prove a moral and virtuous people? yet all travellers agree in representing them as one of the most dishonest and flagitious nations of the East, which the history of their government will tend to corroborate. CHAPTER 22. HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM OF ACHIN, FROM THE PERIOD OF ITS BEING VISITED BY EUROPEANS. PROCEEDINGS OF THE PORTUGUESE. The Portuguese, under the conduct of Vasco de Gama, doubled the Cape of Good Hope in the year 1497, and arrived on the coast of Malabar in the following year. These people, whom the spirit of glory, commerce, and plunder led to the most magnanimous undertakings, were not so entirely engaged by their conquests on the continent of India as to prevent them from extending their views to the discovery of regions yet more distant. They learned from the merchants of Guzerat some account of the riches and importance of Malacca, a great trading city in the farther peninsula of India, supposed by them the Golden Chersonnese of Ptolemy. Intelligence of this was transmitted to their enterprising sovereign Emanuel, who became impressed with a strong desire to avail himself of the flattering advantages which this celebrated country held out to his ambition. 1508. He equipped a fleet of four ships under the command of Diogo Lopez de Sequeira, which sailed from Lisbon on the eighth day of April 1508 with orders to explore and establish connexions in those eastern parts of Asia. 1509. After touching at Madagascar Sequeira proceeded to Cochin, where a ship was added to his fleet, and, departing from thence on the eighth of September 1509, he made sail towards Malacca; but having doubled the extreme promontory of Sumatra (then supposed to be the Taprobane of the ancients) he anchored at Pidir, a principal port of that island, in which he found vessels from Pegu, Bengal, and other countries. The king of the place, who, like other Mahometan princes, was styled sultan, sent off a deputation to him, accompanied with refreshments, excusing himself, on account of illness, from paying his compliments in person, but assuring him at the same time that he should derive much pleasure from the friendship and alliance of the Portuguese, whose fame had reached his ears. Sequeira answered this message in such terms that, by consent of the sultan, a monument of their amity was erected on the shore; or, more properly, as the token of discovery and possession usually employed by the European nations. He was received in the same manner at a place called Pase, lying about twenty leagues farther to the eastward on the same coast, and there also erected a monument or cross. Having procured at each of these ports as much pepper as could be collected in a short time he hastened to Malacca, where the news of his appearance in these seas had anticipated his arrival. Here he was near falling a sacrifice to the insidious policy of Mahmud, the reigning king, to whom the Portuguese had been represented by the Arabian and Persian merchants (and not very unjustly) as lawless pirates, who, under the pretext of establishing commercial treaties, had, at first by encroachments, and afterwards with insolent rapacity, ruined and enslaved the princes who were weak enough to put a confidence in them, or to allow them a footing in their dominions. He escaped the snares that were laid for him but lost many of his people, and, leaving others in captivity, he returned to Europe, and gave an account of his proceedings to the king. 1510. A fleet was sent out in the year 1510 under Diogo Mendez to establish the Portuguese interests at Malacca; but Affonso d'Alboquerque, the governor of their affairs in India, thought proper to detain this squadron on the coast of Malabar until he could proceed thither himself with a greater force. 1511. And accordingly on the second of May 1511 he set sail from Cochin with nineteen ships and fourteen hundred men. He touched at Pidir, where he found some of his countrymen who had made their escape from Malacca in a boat and sought protection on the Sumatran shore. They represented that, arriving off Pase, they had been ill-treated by the natives, who killed one of their party and obliged them to fly to Pidir, where they met with hospitality and kindness from the prince, who seemed desirous to conciliate the regard of their nation. Alboquerque expressed himself sensible of this instance of friendship, and renewed with the sultan the alliance that had been formed by Sequeira. He then proceeded to Pase, whose monarch endeavoured to exculpate himself from the outrage committed against the Portuguese fugitives, and as he could not tarry to take redress he concealed his resentment. In crossing over to Malacca he fell in with a large junk, or country vessel, which he engaged and attempted to board, but the enemy, setting fire to a quantity of inflammable oleaginous matter, he was deterred from his design, with a narrow escape of the destruction of his own ship. The junk was then battered from a distance until forty of her men were killed, when Alboquerque, admiring the bravery of the crew, proposed to them that, if they would strike and acknowledge themselves vassals of Portugal, he would treat them as friends and take them under his protection. This offer was accepted, and the valiant defender of the vessel informed the governor that his name was Jeinal, the lawful heir of the kingdom of Pase; he by whom it was then ruled being a usurper, who, taking advantage of his minority and his own situation as regent, had seized the crown: that he had made attempts to assert his rights, but had been defeated in two battles, and was now proceeding with his adherents to Java, some of the princes of which were his relations, and would, he hoped, enable him to obtain possession of his throne. 1511. Alboquerque promised to effect it for him, and desired the prince to accompany him to Malacca, where they arrived the first of July 1511. In order to save the lives of the Portuguese prisoners, and if possible to effect their recovery, he negotiated with the king of Malacca before he proceeded to an attack on the place; which conduct of his Jeinal construed into fear, and, forsaking his new friend, passed over in the night to the Malayan monarch, whose protection he thought of more consequence to him. When Alboquerque had subdued the place, which made a vigorous resistance, the prince of Pase, seeing the error of his policy, returned, and threw himself at the governor's feet, acknowledged his injurious mistrust, and implored his pardon, which was not denied him. He doubted however it seems of a sincere reconciliation and forgiveness, and, perceiving that no measures were taking for restoring him to his kingdom, but on the contrary that Alboquerque was preparing to leave Malacca with a small force, and talked of performing his promise when he should return from Goa, he took the resolution of again attaching himself to the fortunes of the conquered monarch, and secretly collecting his dependants fled once more from the protection of the Portuguese. He probably was not insensible that the reigning king of Pase, his adversary, had for some time taken abundant pains to procure the favour of Alboquerque, and found an occasion of demonstrating his zeal. The governor, on his return from Malacca, met with a violent storm on the coast of Sumatra near the point of Timiang, where his ship was wrecked. Part of the crew making a raft were driven to Pase, where the king treated them with kindness and sent them to the coast of Coromandel by a merchant ship. Some years after these events Jeinal was enabled by his friends to carry a force to Pase, and obtained the ascendency there, but did not long enjoy his power. Upon the reduction of Malacca the governor received messages from several of the Sumatran princes, and amongst the rest from the king of a place called Kampar, on the eastern coast, who had married a daughter of the king of Malacca, but was on ill terms with his father-in-law. He desired to become a vassal of the Portuguese crown, and to have leave to reside under their jurisdiction. His view was to obtain the important office of bandhara, or chief magistrate of the Malays, lately vacant by the execution of him who possessed it. He sent before him a present of lignum-aloes and gum-lac, the produce of his country, but Alboquerque, suspecting the honesty of his intentions, and fearing that he either aspired to the crown of Malacca or designed to entice the merchants to resort to his own kingdom, refused to permit his coming, and gave the superintendence of the natives to a person named Nina Chetuan. 1514. After some years had elapsed, at the time when Jorge Alboquerque was governor of Malacca, this king (Abdallah by name) persisting in his views, paid him a visit, and was honourably received. At his departure he had assurances given him of liberty to establish himself at Malacca, if he should think proper, and Nina Chetuan was shortly afterwards removed from his office, though no fault was alleged against him. He took the disgrace so much to heart that, causing a pile to be erected before his door, and setting fire to it, he threw himself into the flames.* (*Footnote. This man was not a Mahometan but one of the unconverted natives of the peninsula who are always distinguished from the Moors by the Portuguese writers.) The intention of appointing Abdallah to the office of bandhara was quickly rumoured abroad, and, coming to the knowledge of the king of Bintang, who was driven from Malacca and now carried on a vigorous war against the Portuguese, under the command of the famous Laksamana, he resolved to prevent his arrival there. For this purpose he leagued himself with the king of Lingga, a neighbouring island, and sent out a fleet of seventy armed boats to block up the port of Kampar. By the valour of a small Portuguese armament this force was overcome in the river of that name, and the king conducted in triumph to Malacca, where he was invested in form with the important post he aspired to. But this sacrifice of his independence proved an unfortunate measure to him; for although he conducted himself in such a manner as should have given the amplest satisfaction, and appears to have been irreproachable in the execution of his trust, yet in the following year the king of Bintang found means to inspire the governor with diffidence of his fidelity, and jealousy of his power. 1515. He was cruelly sentenced to death without the simplest forms of justice and perished in the presence of an indignant multitude, whilst he called heaven to witness his innocence and direct its vengeance against his interested accusers. This iniquitous and impolitic proceeding had such an effect upon the minds of the people that all of any property or repute forsook the place, execrating the government of the Portuguese. The consequences of this general odium reduced them to extreme difficulties for provisions, which the neighbouring countries refused to supply them with, and but for some grain at length procured from Siak with much trouble the event had proved fatal to the garrison. 1516. Fernando Perez d'Andrade, in his way to China, touched at Pase in order to take in pepper. He found the people of the place, as well as the merchants from Bengal, Cambay, and other parts of India, much discontented with the measures then pursuing by the government of Malacca, which had stationed an armed force to oblige all vessels to resort thither with their merchandise and take in at that place, as an emporium, the cargoes they were used to collect in the straits. The king notwithstanding received Andrade well, and consented that the Portuguese should have liberty to erect a fortress in his kingdom. 1520. Extraordinary accounts having been related of certain islands abounding in gold, which were reported by the general fame of India to lie off the southern coast of Sumatra, a ship and small brigantine, under the command of Diogo Pacheco, an experienced seaman, were sent in order to make the discovery of them. Having proceeded as far as Daya the brigantine was lost in a gale of wind. Pacheco stood on to Barus, a place renowned for its gold trade, and for gum benzoin of a peculiar scent, which the country produced. It was much frequented by vessels, both from the neighbouring ports in the island, and from those in the West of India, whence it was supplied with cotton cloths. The merchants, terrified at the approach of the Portuguese, forsook their ships and fled precipitately to the shore. The chiefs of the country sent to inquire the motives of his visit, which he informed them were to establish friendly connexions and to give them assurances of unmolested freedom of trade at the city of Malacca. Refreshments were then ordered for his fleet, and upon landing he was treated with respect by the inhabitants, who brought the articles of their country to exchange with him for merchandise. His chief view was to obtain information respecting the situation and other circumstances of the ilhas d'Ouro, but they seemed jealous of imparting any. At length, after giving him a laboured detail of the dangers attending the navigation of the seas where they were said to lie, they represented their situation to be distant a hundred leagues to the south-east of Barus, amidst labyrinths of shoals and reefs through which it was impossible to steer with any but the smallest boats. If these islands, so celebrated about this time, existed anywhere but in the regions of fancy,* they were probably those of Tiku, to which it is possible that much gold might be brought from the neighbouring country of Menangkabau. Pacheco, leaving Barus, proceeded to the southward, but did not make the wished-for discovery. He reached the channel that divides Sumatra from Java, which he called the strait of Polimban, from a city he erroneously supposed to lie on the Javan shore, and passing through this returned to Malacca by the east; being the first European who sailed round the island of Sumatra. In the following year he sailed once more in search of these islands, which were afterwards the object of many fruitless voyages; but touching again at Barus he met with resistance there and perished with all his companions. (*Footnote. Linschoten makes particular mention of having seen them, and gives practical directions for the navigation, but the golden dreams of the Portuguese were never realized in them.) A little before this time a ship under the command of Gaspar d'Acosta was lost on the island of Gamispola (Pulo Gomez) near Achin Head, when the people from Achin attacked and plundered the crew, killing many and taking the rest prisoners. A ship also which belonged to Joano de Lima was plundered in the road, and the Portuguese which belonged to her put to death. These insults and others committed at Pase induced the governor of Malacca, Garcia de Sa, to dispatch a vessel under Manuel Pacheco to take satisfaction; which he endeavoured to effect by blocking up the ports, and depriving the towns of all sources of provision, particularly their fisheries. As he cruised between Achin and Pase a boat with five men, going to take in fresh water at a river nigh to the latter, would have been cut off had not the people, by wonderful efforts of valour, overcome the numerous party which attacked them. The sultan, alarmed for the consequences of this affray, sent immediately to sue for reconciliation, offering to make atonement for the loss of property the merchants had sustained by the licentiousness of his people, from a participation in whose crimes he sought to vindicate himself. The advantage derived from the connexion with this place induced the government of Malacca to be satisfied with his apology, and cargoes of pepper and raw silk were shortly after procured there; the former being much wanted for the ships bound to China. Jeinal, who had fled to the king of Malacca, as before mentioned, followed that monarch to the island of Bintang, and received one of his daughters in marriage. Six or seven years elapsed before the situation of affairs enabled the king to lend him any effectual assistance, but at length some advantages gained over the Portuguese afforded a proper opportunity, and accordingly a fleet was fitted out, with which Jeinal sailed for Pase. In order to form a judgment of the transactions of this kingdom it must be understood that the people, having an idea of predestination, always conceived present possession to constitute right, however that possession might have been acquired; but yet they made no scruple of deposing and murdering their sovereigns, and justified their acts by this argument; that the fate of concerns so important as the lives of kings was in the hands of God, whose vicegerents they were, and that if it was not agreeable to him and the consequence of his will that they should perish by the daggers of their subjects it could not so happen. Thus it appears that their religious ideas were just strong enough to banish from their minds every moral sentiment. The natural consequence of these maxims was that their kings were merely the tyrants of the day; and it is said that whilst a certain ship remained in the port no less than two were murdered, and a third set up: but allowance should perhaps be made for the medium through which these accounts have been transmitted to us. The maternal uncle of Jeinal, who, on account of his father's infirmities, had been some time regent, and had deprived him of the succession to the throne, was also king of Aru or Rou, a country not far distant, and thus became monarch of both places. The caprices of the Pase people, who submitted quietly to his usurpation, rendered them ere long discontented with his government, and being a stranger they had the less compunction in putting him to death. Another king was set up in his room, who soon fell by the hands of some natives of Aru who resided at Pase, in revenge for the assassination of their countryman. 1519. A fresh monarch was elected by the people, and in his reign it was that Jeinal appeared with a force from Bintang, who, carrying everything before him, put his rival to death, and took possession of the throne. The son of the deceased, a youth of about twelve years of age, made his escape, accompanied by the Mulana or chief priest of the city, and procured a conveyance to the west of India. There they threw themselves at the feet of the Portuguese governor, Lopez Sequeira, then engaged in an expedition to the Red Sea, imploring his aid to drive the invader from their country, and to establish the young prince in his rights, who would thenceforth consider himself as a vassal of the crown of Portugal. It was urged that Jeinal, as being nearly allied to the king of Bintang, was an avowed enemy to that nation, which he had manifested in some recent outrages committed against the merchants from Malacca who traded at Pase. Sequeira, partly from compassion, and partly from political motives, resolved to succour this prince, and by placing him on the throne establish a firm interest in the affairs of his kingdom. He accordingly gave orders to Jorge Alboquerque, who was then proceeding with a strong fleet towards Malacca, to take the youth with him, whose name was Orfacam,* and after having expelled Jeinal to put him in possession of the sovereignty. (*Footnote. Evidently corrupted, as are most of the country names and titles, which shows that the Portuguese were not at this period much conversant in the Malayan language.) When Jeinal entered upon the administration of the political concerns of the kingdom, although he had promised his father-in-law to carry on the war in concert with him, yet, being apprehensive of the effects of the Portuguese power, he judged it more for his interest to seek a reconciliation with them than to provoke their resentment, and in pursuance of that system had so far recommended himself to Garcia de Sa, the governor of Malacca, that he formed a treaty of alliance with him. This was however soon interrupted, and chiefly by the imprudence of a man named Diogo Vaz, who made use of such insulting language to the king, because he delayed payment of a sum of money he owed him, that the courtiers, seized with indignation, immediately stabbed him with their krises, and, the alarm running through the city, others of the Portuguese were likewise murdered. The news of this affair, reaching Goa, was an additional motive for the resolution taken of dethroning him. 1521. Jorge d'Alboquerque arrived at Pase in 1521 with Prince Orfacam, and the inhabitants came off in great numbers to welcome his return. The king of Aru had brought thither a considerable force the preceding day, designing to take satisfaction for the murder of his relation, the uncle of Jeinal, and now proposed to Alboquerque that they should make the attack in conjunction, who thought proper to decline it. Jeinal, although he well knew the intention of the enemy, yet sent a friendly message to Alboquerque, who in answer required him to relinquish his crown in favour of him whom he styled the lawful prince. He then represented to him the injustice of attempting to force him from the possession of what was his, not only by right of conquest but of hereditary descent, as was well known to the governor himself; that he was willing to consider himself as the vassal of the king of Portugal, and to grant every advantage in point of trade that they could expect from the administration of his rival; and that since his obtaining the crown he had manifested the utmost friendship to the Portuguese, for which he appealed to the treaty formed with him by the government of Malacca, which was not disturbed by any fault that could in justice be imputed to himself. These arguments, like all others that pass between states which harbour inimical designs, had no effect upon Alboquerque, who, after reconnoitring the ground, gave orders for the attack. The king was now sensible that there was nothing left for him but to conquer or die, and resolved to defend himself to extremity in an entrenchment he had formed at some distance from the town of Pase, where he had never yet ventured to reside as the people were in general incensed against him on account of the destruction of the late king of their choice; for though they were ever ready to demolish those whom they disliked, yet were they equally zealous to sacrifice their own lives in the cause of those to whom they were attached. The Portuguese force consisted but of three hundred men, yet such was the superiority they possessed in war over the inhabitants of these countries that they entirely routed Jeinal's army, which amounted to three thousand, with many elephants, although they fought bravely. When he fell they became dispirited, and, the people of Aru joining in the pursuit, a dreadful slaughter succeeded, and upwards of two thousand Sumatrans lay dead, with the loss of only five or six Europeans; but several were wounded, among whom was Alboquerque himself. The next measure was to place the young prince upon the throne, which was performed with much ceremony. The mulana was appointed his governor, and Nina Cunapan, who in several instances had shown a friendship for the Portuguese, was continued in the office of Shabandar. It was stipulated that the prince should do homage to the crown of Portugal, give a grant of the whole produce of pepper of his country at a certain price, and defray the charges of a fortress which they then prepared to erect in his kingdom, and of which Miranda d'Azeuedo was appointed captain, with a garrison of a hundred soldiers. The materials were mostly timber, with which the ruins of Jeinal's entrenchment supplied them. After Alboquerque's departure the works had nearly fallen into the hands of an enemy, named Melek-el-adil, who called himself sultan of Pase and made several desultory attacks upon them; but he was at length totally routed, and the fortifications were completed without further molestation. 1521. A fleet which sailed from the west of India a short time after that of Alboquerque, under the command of Jorge de Brito, anchored in the road of Achin, in their way to the Molucca Islands. There was at this time at that place a man of the name of Joano Borba, who spoke the language of the country, having formerly fled thither from Pase when Diogo Vaz was assassinated. Being afterwards intrusted with the command of a trading vessel from Goa, which foundered at sea, he again reached Achin, with nine men in a small boat, and was hospitably received by the king, when he learned that the ship had been destined to his port. Borba came off to the fleet along with a messenger sent by the king to welcome the commander and offer him refreshments for his fleet, and, being a man of extraordinary loquacity, he gave a pompous description to Brito of a temple in the country in which was deposited a large quantity of gold: he mentioned likewise that the king was in possession of the artillery and merchandise of Gaspar d'Acosta's vessel, some time since wrecked there; and also of the goods saved from a brigantine driven on shore at Daya, in Pacheco's expedition; as well as of Joano de Lima's ship, which he had caused to be cut off. Brito, being tempted by the golden prize, which he conceived already in his power, and inflamed by Borba's representation of the king's iniquities, sent a message in return to demand the restitution of the artillery, ship, and goods, which had been unlawfully seized. The king replied that, if he wanted those articles to be refunded, he must make his demand to the sea which had swallowed them up. Brito and his captains now resolved to proceed to an attack upon the place, and so secure did they make themselves of their prey that they refused permission to a ship lately arrived, and which did not belong to their squadron, to join them or participate in the profits of their adventure. They prepared to land two hundred men in small boats; a larger, with a more considerable detachment and their artillery, being ordered to follow. About daybreak they had proceeded halfway up the river, and came near to a little fort designed to defend the passage, where Brito thought it advisable to stop till the remainder of their force should join them; but, being importuned by his people, he advanced to make himself master of the fort, which was readily effected. Here he again resolved to make his stand, but by the imprudence of his ensign, who had drawn some of the party into a skirmish with the Achinese, he was forced to quit that post in order to save his colours, which were in danger. At this juncture the king appeared at the head of eight hundred or a thousand men, and six elephants. A desperate conflict ensued, in which the Portuguese received considerable injury. Brito sent orders for the party he had left to come up, and endeavoured to retreat to the fort, but he found himself so situated that it could not be executed without much loss, and presently after he received a wound from an arrow through the cheeks. No assistance arriving, it was proposed that they should retire in the best manner they could to their boats; but this Brito would not consent to, preferring death to flight, and immediately a lance pierced his thighs, and he fell to the ground. The Portuguese, rendered desperate, renewed the combat with redoubled vigour, all crowding to the spot where their commander lay, but their exertions availed them nothing against such unequal force, and they only rushed on to sacrifice. Almost every man was killed, and among these were near fifty persons of family who had embarked as volunteers. Those who escaped belonged chiefly to the corps-de-reserve, who did not, or could not, come up in time to succour their unfortunate companions. Upon this merited defeat the squadron immediately weighed anchor, and, after falling in with two vessels bound on the discovery of the Ilhas d'Ouro, arrived at Pase, where they found Alboquerque employed in the construction of his fortress, and went with him to make an attack on Bintang. STATE OF ACHIN IN 1511. At the period when Malacca fell into the hands of the Portuguese Achin and Daya are said by the historians of that nation to have been provinces subject to Pidir, and governed by two slaves belonging to the sultan of that place, to each of whom he had given a niece in marriage. Slaves, it must be understood, are in that country on a different footing from those in most other parts of the world, and usually treated as children of the family. Some of them are natives of the continent of India, whom their masters employ to trade for them; allowing them a certain proportion of the profits and permission to reside in a separate quarter of the city. It frequently happened also that men of good birth, finding it necessary to obtain the protection of some person in power, became voluntary slaves for this purpose, and the nobles, being proud of such dependants, encouraged the practice by treating them with a degree of respect, and in many instances they made them their heirs. The slave of this description who held the government of Achin had two sons, the elder of whom was named Raja Ibrahim, and the younger Raja Lella, and were brought up in the house of their master. The father being old was recalled from his post; but on account of his faithful services the sultan gave the succession to his eldest son, who appears to have been a youth of an ambitious and very sanguinary temper. A jealousy had taken place between him and the chief of Daya whilst they were together at Pidir, and as soon as he came into power he resolved to seek revenge, and with that view entered in a hostile manner the district of his rival. When the sultan interposed it not only added fuel to his resentment but inspired him with hatred towards his master, and he showed his disrespect by refusing to deliver up, on the requisition of the sultan, certain Portuguese prisoners taken from a vessel lost at Pulo Gomez, and which he afterwards complied with at the intercession of the Shabandar of Pase. This conduct manifesting an intention of entirely throwing off his allegiance, his father endeavoured to recall him to a sense of his duty by representing the obligations in which the family were indebted to the sultan, and the relationship which so nearly connected them. But so far was this admonition from producing any good effect that he took offence at his father's presumption, and ordered him to be confined in a cage, where he died. 1521. Irritated by these acts, the sultan resolved to proceed to extremities against him; but by means of the plunder of some Portuguese vessels, as before related, and the recent defeat of Brito's party, he became so strong in artillery and ammunition, and so much elated with success, that he set his master at defiance and prepared to defend himself. His force proved superior to that of Pidir, and in the end he obliged the sultan to fly for refuge and assistance to the European fortress at Pase, accompanied by his nephew, the chief of Daya, who was also forced from his possessions. 1522. Ibrahim had for some time infested the Portuguese by sending out parties against them, both by sea and land; but these being always baffled in their attempts with much loss, he began to conceive a violent antipathy against that nation, which he ever after indulged to excess. He got possession of the city of Pidir by bribing the principal officers, a mode of warfare that he often found successful and seldom neglected to attempt. These he prevailed upon to write a letter to their master, couched in artful terms, in which they besought him to come to their assistance with a body of Portuguese, as the only chance of repelling the enemy by whom they pretended to be invested. The sultan showed this letter to Andre Henriquez, then governor of the fort, who, thinking it a good opportunity to chastise the Achinese, sent by sea a detachment of eighty Europeans and two hundred Malays under the command of his brother Manuel, whilst the sultan marched overland with a thousand men and fifteen elephants to the relief of the place. They arrived at Pidir in the night, but, being secretly informed that the king of Achin was master of the city, and that the demand for succour was a stratagem, they endeavoured to make their retreat; which the land troops effected, but before the tide could enable the Portuguese to get their boats afloat they were attacked by the Achinese, who killed Manuel and thirty-five of his men. Henriquez, perceiving his situation at Pase was becoming critical, not only from the force of the enemy but the sickly state of his garrison, and the want of provisions, which the country people now withheld from him, discontinuing the fairs that they were used to keep three times in the week, dispatched advices to the governor of India, demanding immediate succours, and also sent to request assistance of the king of Aru, who had always proved the steadfast friend of Malacca, and who, though not wealthy, because his country was not a place of trade, was yet one of the most powerful princes in those parts. The king expressed his joy in having an opportunity of serving his allies, and promised his utmost aid; not only from friendship to them, but indignation against Ibrahim, whom he regarded as a rebellious slave. 1523. A supply of stores at length arrived from India under the charge of Lopo d'Azuedo, who had orders to relieve Henriquez in the command; but, disputes having arisen between them, and chiefly on the subject of certain works which the shabandar of Pase had been permitted to erect adjoining to the fortress, d'Azuedo, to avoid coming to an open rupture, departed for Malacca. Ibrahim, having found means to corrupt the honesty of this shabandar, who had received his office from Alboquerque, gained intelligence through him of all that passed. This treason, it is supposed, he would not have yielded to but for the desperate situation of affairs. The country of Pase was now entirely in subjection to the Achinese, and nothing remained unconquered but the capital, whilst the garrison was distracted with internal divisions. After the acquisition of Pidir the king thought it necessary to remain there some time in order to confirm his authority, and sent his brother Raja Lella with a large army to reduce the territories of Pase, which he effected in the course of three months, and with the more facility because all the principal nobility had fallen in the action with Jeinal. He fixed his camp within half a league of the city, and gave notice to Ibrahim of the state in which matters were, who speedily joined him, being anxious to render himself master of the place before the promised succours from the king of Aru could arrive. His first step was to issue a proclamation, giving notice to the people of the town that whoever should submit to his authority within six days should have their lives, families, and properties secured to them, but that all others must expect to feel the punishment due to their obstinacy. This had the effect he looked for, the greater part of the inhabitants coming over to his camp. He then commenced his military operations, and in the third attack got possession of the town after much slaughter; those who escaped his fury taking shelter in the neighbouring mountains and thick woods. He sent a message to the commander of the fortress, requiring him to abandon it and to deliver into his hands the kings of Pidir and Daya, to whom he had given protection. Henriquez returned a spirited answer to this summons, but, being sickly at the time, at best of an unsteady disposition, and too much attached to his trading concerns for a soldier, he resolved to relinquish the command to his relation Aires Coelho, and take passage for the West of India. 1523. He had not advanced farther on his voyage than the point of Pidir, when he fell in with two Portuguese ships bound to the Moluccas, the captains of which he made acquainted with the situation of the garrison, and they immediately proceeded to its relief. Arriving in the night they heard great firing of cannon, and learned next morning that the Achinese had made a furious assault in hopes of carrying the fortress before the ships, which were descried at a distance, could throw succours into it. They had mastered some of the outworks, and the garrison represented that it was impossible for them to support such another shock without aid from the vessels. The captains, with as much force as could be spared, entered the fort, and a sally was shortly afterwards resolved on and executed, in which the besiegers sustained considerable damage. Every effort was likewise employed to repair the breaches and stop up the mines that had been made by the enemy in order to effect a passage into the place. Ibrahim now attempted to draw them into a snare by removing his camp to a distance and making a feint of abandoning his enterprise; but this stratagem proved ineffectual. Reflecting then with indignation that his own force consisted of fifteen thousand men whilst that of the Europeans did not exceed three hundred and fifty, many of whom were sick and wounded, and others worn out with the fatigue of continual duty (intelligence whereof was conveyed to him), he resolved once more to return to the siege, and make a general assault upon all parts of the fortification at once. Two hours before daybreak he caused the place to be surrounded with eight thousand men, who approached in perfect silence. The nighttime was preferred by these people for making their attacks as being then most secure from the effect of firearms, and they also generally chose a time of rain, when the powder would not burn. As soon as they found themselves perceived they set up a hideous shout, and, fixing their scaling ladders, made of bamboo and wonderfully light, to the number of six hundred, they attempted to force their way through the embrasures for the guns; but after a strenuous contest they were at length repulsed. Seven elephants were driven with violence against the paling of one of the bastions, which gave way before them like a hedge, and overset all the men who were on it. Javelins and pikes these enormous beasts made no account of, but upon setting fire to powder under their trunks they drew back with precipitation in spite of all the efforts of their drivers, overthrew their own people, and, flying to the distance of several miles, could not again be brought into the lines. The Achinese upon receiving this check thought to take revenge by setting fire to some vessels that were in the dockyard; but this proved an unfortunate measure to them, for by the light which it occasioned the garrison were enabled to point their guns, and did abundant execution. 1524. Henriquez, after beating sometime against a contrary wind, put back to Pase, and, coming on shore the day after this conflict, resumed his command. A council was soon after held to determine what measures were fittest to be pursued in the present situation of affairs, and, taking into their consideration that no further assistance could be expected from the west of India in less than six months, that the garrison was sickly and provisions short, it was resolved by a majority of votes to abandon the place, and measures were taken accordingly. In order to conceal their intentions from the enemy they ordered such of the artillery and stores as could be removed conveniently to be packed up in the form of merchandise and then shipped off. A party was left to set fire to the buildings, and trains of powder were so disposed as to lead to the larger cannon, which they overcharged that they might burst as soon as heated. But this was not effectually executed, and the pieces mostly fell into the hands of the Achinese, who upon the first alarm of the evacuation rushed in, extinguished the flames, and turned upon the Portuguese their own artillery, many of whom were killed in the water as they hurried to get into their boats. They now lost as much credit by this ill conducted retreat as they had acquired by their gallant defence, and were insulted by the reproachful shouts of the enemy, whose power was greatly increased by this acquisition of military stores, and of which they often severely experienced the effects. To render their disgrace more striking it happened that as they sailed out of the harbour they met thirty boats laden with provisions for their use from the king of Aru, who was himself on his march overland with four thousand men: and when they arrived at Malacca they found troops and stores embarked there for their relief. The unfortunate princes who had sought an asylum with them now joined in their flight; the sultan of Pase proceeded to Malacca, and the sultan of Pidir and chief of Daya took refuge with the king of Aru. 1525. Raja Nara, king of Indragiri, in conjunction with a force from Bintang, attacked the king of a neighbouring island called Lingga, who was in friendship with the Portuguese. A message which passed on this occasion gives a just idea of the style and manners of this people. Upon their acquainting the king of Lingga, in their summons of surrender, that they had lately overcome the fleet of Malacca, he replied that his intelligence informed him of the contrary; that he had just made a festival and killed fifty goats to celebrate one defeat which they had received, and hoped soon to kill a hundred in order to celebrate a second. His expectations were fulfilled, or rather anticipated, for the Portuguese, having a knowledge of the king of Indragiri's design, sent out a small fleet which routed the combined force before the king of Lingga was acquainted with their arrival, his capital being situated high up on the river. 1526. In the next year, at the conquest of Bintang, this king unsolicited sent assistance to his European allies. 1527. However well founded the accounts may have been which the Portuguese have given us of the cruelties committed against their people by the king of Achin, the barbarity does not appear to have been only on one side. Francisco de Mello, being sent in an armed vessel with dispatches to Goa, met near Achin Head with a ship of that nation just arrived from Mecca and supposed to be richly laden. As she had on board three hundred Achinese and forty Arabs he dared not venture to board her, but battered her at a distance, when suddenly she filled and sunk, to the extreme disappointment of the Portuguese, who thereby lost their prize; but they wreaked their vengeance on the unfortunate crew as they endeavoured to save themselves by swimming, and boast that they did not suffer a man to escape. Opportunities of retaliation soon offered. 1528. Simano de Sousa, going with a reinforcement to the Moluccas from Cochin, was overtaken in the bay by a violent storm, which forced him to stow many of his guns in the hold; and, having lost several of his men through fatigue, he made for the nearest port he could take shelter in, which proved to be Achin. The king, having the destruction of the Portuguese at heart, and resolving if possible to seize their vessel, sent off a message to De Sousa recommending his standing in closer to the shore, where he would have more shelter from the gale which still continued, and lie more conveniently for getting off water and provisions, at the same time inviting him to land. This artifice not succeeding, he ordered out the next morning a thousand men in twenty boats, who at first pretended they were come to assist in mooring the ship; but the captain, aware of their hostile design, fired amongst them, when a fierce engagement took place in which the Achinese were repulsed with great slaughter, but not until they had destroyed forty of the Portuguese. The king, enraged at this disappointment, ordered a second attack, threatening to have his admiral trampled to death by elephants if he failed of success. A boat was sent ahead of this fleet with a signal of peace, and assurances to De Sousa that the king, as soon as he was made acquainted with the injury that had been committed, had caused the perpetrators of it to be punished, and now once more requested him to come on shore and trust to his honour. This proposal some of the crew were inclined that he should accept, but being animated by a speech that he made to them it was resolved that they should die with arms in their hands in preference to a disgraceful and hazardous submission. The combat was therefore renewed, with extreme fury on the one side, and uncommon efforts of courage on the other, and the assailants were a second time repulsed; but one of those who had boarded the vessel and afterwards made his escape represented to the Achinese the reduced and helpless situation of their enemy, and, fresh supplies coming off, they were encouraged to return to the attack. De Sousa and his people were at length almost all cut to pieces, and those who survived, being desperately wounded, were overpowered, and led prisoners to the king, who unexpectedly treated them with extraordinary kindness, in order to cover the designs he harboured, and pretended to lament the fate of their brave commander. He directed them to fix upon one of their companions, who should go in his name to the governor of Malacca, to desire he would immediately send to take possession of the ship, which he meant to restore, as well as to liberate them. He hoped by this artifice to draw more of the Portuguese into his power, and at the same time to effect a purpose of a political nature. A war had recently broken out between him and the king of Aru, the latter of whom had deputed ambassadors to Malacca, to solicit assistance, in return for his former services, and which was readily promised to him. It was highly the interest of the king of Achin to prevent this junction, and therefore, though determined to relax nothing in his plans of revenge, he hastened to dispatch Antonio Caldeira, one of the captives, with proposals of accommodation and alliance, offering to restore not only this vessel, but also the artillery which he had taken at Pase. These terms appeared to the governor too advantageous to be rejected. Conceiving a favourable idea of the king's intentions, from the confidence which Caldeira, who was deceived by the humanity shown to the wounded captives, appeared to place in his sincerity, he became deaf to the representations that were made to him by more experienced persons of his insidious character. A message was sent back, agreeing to accept his friendship on the proposed conditions, and engaging to withhold the promised succours from the king of Aru. Caldeira, in his way to Achin, touched at an island, where he was cut off with those who accompanied him. The ambassadors from Aru being acquainted with this breach of faith, retired in great disgust, and the king, incensed at the ingratitude shown him, concluded a peace with Achin; but not till after an engagement between their fleets had taken place, in which the victory remained undecided. In order that he might learn the causes of the obscurity in which his negotiations with Malacca rested, Ibrahim dispatched a secret messenger to Senaia Raja, bandhara of that city, with whom he held a correspondence; desiring also to be informed of the strength of the garrison. Hearing in answer that the governor newly arrived was inclined to think favourably of him, he immediately sent an ambassador to wait on him with assurances of his pacific and friendly disposition, who returned in company with persons empowered, on the governor's part, to negotiate a treaty of commerce. These, upon their arrival at Achin, were loaded with favours and costly presents, the news of which quickly flew to Malacca, and, the business they came on being adjusted, they were suffered to depart; but they had not sailed far before they were overtaken by boats sent after them, and were stripped and murdered. The governor, who had heard of their setting out, concluded they were lost by accident. Intelligence of this mistaken opinion was transmitted to the king, who thereupon had the audacity to request that he might be honoured with the presence of some Portuguese of rank and consequence in his capital, to ratify in a becoming manner the articles that had been drawn up; as he ardently wished to see that nation trafficking freely in his dominions. 1529. The deluded governor, in compliance with this request, adopted the resolution of sending thither a large ship under the command of Manuel Pacheco, with a rich cargo, the property of himself and several merchants of Malacca, who themselves embarked with the idea of making extraordinary profits. Senaia conveyed notice of this preparation to Achin, informing the king at the same time that, if he could make himself master of this vessel, Malacca must fall an easy prey to him, as the place was weakened of half its force for the equipment. When Pacheco approached the harbour he was surrounded by a great number of boats, and some of the people began to suspect treachery, but so strongly did the spirit of delusion prevail in this business that they could not persuade the captain to put himself on his guard. He soon had reason to repent his credulity. Perceiving an arrow pass close by him, he hastened to put on his coat of mail, when a second pierced his neck, and he soon expired. The vessel then became an easy prey, and the people, being made prisoners, were shortly afterwards massacred by the king's order, along with the unfortunate remnant of De Sousa's crew, so long flattered with the hopes of release. By this capture the king was supposed to have remained in possession of more artillery than was left in Malacca, and he immediately fitted out a fleet to take advantage of its exposed state. The pride of success causing him to imagine it already in his power, he sent a taunting message to the governor in which he thanked him for the late instances of his liberality, and let him know he should trouble him for the remainder of his naval force. Senaia had promised to put the citadel into his hands, and this had certainly been executed but for an accident that discovered his treasonable designs. The crews of some vessels of the Achinese fleet landed on a part of the coast not far from the city, where they were well entertained by the natives, and in the openness of conviviality related the transactions which had lately passed at Achin, the correspondence of Senaia, and the scheme that was laid for rising on the Portuguese when they should be at church, murdering them, and seizing the fortress. Intelligence of this was reported with speed to the governor, who had Senaia instantly apprehended and executed. This punishment served to intimidate those among the inhabitants who were engaged in the conspiracy, and disconcerted the plans of the king of Achin. This appears to be the last transaction of Ibrahim's reign recorded by the Portuguese historians. His death is stated by De Barros to have taken place in the year 1528 in consequence of poison administered to him by one of his wives, to revenge the injuries her brother, the chief of Daya, had suffered at his hand. In a Malayan work (lately come into my possession) containing the annals of the kingdom of Achin, it is said that a king, whose title was sultan Saleh-eddin-shah, obtained the sovereignty in a year answering to 1511 of our era, and who, after reigning about eighteen years, was dethroned by a brother in 1529. Notwithstanding some apparent discordance between the two accounts there can be little doubt of the circumstances applying to the same individual, as it may well be presumed that, according to the usual practice in the East, he adopted upon ascending the throne a title different from the name which he had originally borne, although that might continue to be his more familiar appellation, especially in the mouths of his enemies. The want of precise coincidence in the dates cannot be thought an objection, as the event not falling under the immediate observation of the Portuguese they cannot pretend to accuracy within a few months, and even their account of the subsequent transactions renders it more probable that it happened in 1529; nor are the facts of his being dethroned by the brother, or put to death by the sister, materially at variance with each other; and the latter circumstance, whether true or false, might naturally enough be reported at Malacca. 1529. His successor took the name of Ala-eddin-shah, and afterwards, from his great enterprises, acquired the additional epithet of keher or the powerful. By the Portuguese he is said to have styled himself king of Achin, Barus, Pidir, Pase, Daya, and Batta, prince of the land of the two seas, and of the mines of Menangkabau. 1537. Nothing is recorded of his reign until the year 1537, in which he twice attacked Malacca. The first time he sent an army of three thousand men who landed near the city by night, unperceived by the garrison, and, having committed some ravages in the suburbs, were advancing to the bridge, when the governor, Estavano de Gama, sallied out with a party and obliged them to retreat for shelter to the woods. Here they defended themselves during the next day, but on the following night they re-embarked, with the loss of five hundred men. A few months afterwards the king had the place invested with a larger force; but in the interval the works had been repaired and strengthened, and after three days ineffectual attempt the Achinese were again constrained to retire. 1547. In the year 1547 he once more fitted out a fleet against Malacca, where a descent was made; but, contented with some trifling plunder, the army re-embarked, and the vessels proceeded to the river of Parles on the Malayan coast. Hither they were followed by a Portuguese squadron, which attacked and defeated a division of the fleet at the mouth of the river. This victory was rendered famous, not so much by the valour of the combatants, as by a revelation opportunely made from heaven to the celebrated missionary Francisco Xavier of the time and circumstances of it, and which he announced to the garrison at a moment when the approach of a powerful invader from another quarter had caused much alarm and apprehension among them. Many transactions of the reign of this prince, particularly with the neighbouring states of Batta and Aru (about the years 1539 and 1541) are mentioned by Ferdinand Mendez Pinto; but his writings are too apocryphal to allow of the facts being recorded upon his authority. Yet there is the strongest internal evidence of his having been more intimately acquainted with the countries of which we are now speaking, the character of the inhabitants, and the political transactions of the period, than any of his contemporaries; and it appears highly probable that what he has related is substantially true: but there is also reason to believe that he composed his work from recollection after his return to Europe, and he may not have been scrupulous in supplying from a fertile imagination the unavoidable failures of a memory, however richly stored. 1556. The death of Ala-eddin took place, according to the Annals, in 1556, after a reign of twenty-eight years. 1565. He was succeeded by sultan Hussein­shah, who reigned about eight, and dying in 1565 was succeeded by his son, an infant. This child survived only seven months; and in the same year the throne was occupied by Raja Firman-shah, who was murdered soon after. 1567. His successor, Raja Janil, experienced a similar fate when he had reigned ten months. This event is placed in 1567. Sultan Mansur-shah, from the kingdom of Perak in the peninsula, was the next who ascended the throne. 1567. The western powers of India having formed a league for the purpose of extirpating the Portuguese, the king of Achin was invited to accede to it, and, in conformity with the engagements by which the respective parties were bound, he prepared to attack them in Malacca, and carried thither a numerous fleet, in which were fifteen thousand people of his own subjects, and four hundred Turks, with two hundred pieces of artillery of different sizes. In order to amuse the enemy he gave out that his force was destined against Java, and sent a letter, accompanied with a present of a kris, to the governor, professing strong sentiments of friendship. A person whom he turned on shore with marks of ignominy, being suspected for a spy, was taken up, and being put to the torture confessed that he was employed by the Ottoman emperor and king of Achin to poison the principal officers of the place, and to set fire to their magazine. He was put to death, and his mutilated carcase was sent off to the king. This was the signal for hostilities. He immediately landed with all his men and commenced a regular siege. Sallies were made with various success and very unequal numbers. In one of these the chief of Aru, the king's eldest son, was killed. In another the Portuguese were defeated and lost many officers. A variety of stratagems were employed to work upon the fears and shake the fidelity of the inhabitants of the town. A general assault was given in which, after prodigious efforts of courage, and imminent risk of destruction, the besieged remained victorious. The king, seeing all his attempts fruitless, at length departed, having lost three thousand men before the walls, beside about five hundred who were said to have died of their wounds on the passage. The king of Ujong-tanah or Johor, who arrived with a fleet to the assistance of the place, found the sea for a long distance covered with dead bodies. This was esteemed one of the most desperate and honourable sieges the Portuguese experienced in India, their whole force consisting of but fifteen hundred men, of whom no more than two hundred were Europeans. 1568. In the following year a vessel from Achin bound to Java, with ambassadors on board to the queen of Japara, in whom the king wished to raise up a new enemy against the Portuguese, was met in the straits by a vessel from Malacca, who took her and put all the people to the sword. It appears to have been a maxim in these wars never to give quarter to an enemy, whether resisting or submitting. 1569. In 1569 a single ship, commanded by Lopez Carrasco, passing near Achin, fell in with a fleet coming out of that port, consisting of twenty large galleys and a hundred and eighty other vessels, commanded by the king in person, and supposed to be designed against Malacca. The situation of the Portuguese was desperate. They could not expect to escape, and therefore resolved to die like men. During three days they sustained a continual attack, when, after having by incredible exertions destroyed forty of the enemy's vessels, and being themselves reduced to the state of a wreck, a second ship appeared in sight. The king perceiving this retired into the harbour with his shattered forces. It is difficult to determine which of the two is the more astonishing, the vigorous stand made by such a handful of men as the whole strength of Malacca consisted of, or the prodigious resources and perseverance of the Achinese monarch. 1573. In 1573, after forming an alliance with the queen of Japara, the object of which was the destruction of the European power, he appeared again before Malacca with ninety vessels, twenty-five of them large galleys, with seven thousand men and great store of artillery. He began his operations by sending a party to set fire to the suburbs of the town, but a timely shower of rain prevented its taking effect. He then resolved on a different mode of warfare, and tried to starve the place to a surrender by blocking up the harbour and cutting off all supplies of provisions. The Portuguese, to prevent the fatal consequences of this measure, collected those few vessels which they were masters of, and, a merchant ship of some force arriving opportunely, they put to sea, attacked the enemy's fleet, killed the principal captain, and obtained a complete victory. 1574. In the year following Malacca was invested by an armada from the queen of Japara, of three hundred sail, eighty of which were junks of four hundred tons burden. After besieging the place for three months, till the very air became corrupted by their stay, the fleet retired with little more than five thousand men, of fifteen that embarked on the expedition. 1575. Scarcely was the Javanese force departed when the king of Achin once more appeared with a fleet that is described as covering the straits. He ordered an attack upon three Portuguese frigates that were in the road protecting some provision vessels, which was executed with such a furious discharge of artillery that they were presently destroyed with all their crews. This was a dreadful blow to Malacca, and lamented, as the historian relates, with tears of blood by the little garrison, who were not now above a hundred and fifty men, and of those a great part non­effective. The king, elated with his success, landed his troops, and laid siege to the fort, which he battered at intervals during seventeen days. The fire of the Portuguese became very slack, and after some time totally ceased, as the governor judged it prudent to reserve his small stock of ammunition for an effort at the last extremity. The king, alarmed at this silence, which he construed into a preparation for some dangerous stratagem, was seized with a panic, and, suddenly raising the siege, embarked with the utmost precipitation; unexpectedly relieving the garrison from the ruin that hung over it, and which seemed inevitable in the ordinary course of events. 1582. In 1582 we find the king appearing again before Malacca with a hundred and fifty sail of vessels. After some skirmishes with the Portuguese ships, in which the success was nearly equal on both sides, the Achinese proceeded to attack Johor, the king of which was then in alliance with Malacca. Twelve ships followed them thither, and, having burned some of their galleys, defeated the rest and obliged them to fly to Achin. The operations of these campaigns, and particularly the valour of the commander, named Raja Makuta, are alluded to in Queen Elizabeth's letter to the king, delivered in 1602 by Sir James Lancaster. About three or four years after this misfortune Mansur-shah prepared a fleet of no less than three hundred sail of vessels, and was ready to embark once more upon his favourite enterprise, when he was murdered, together with his queen and many of the principal nobility, by the general of the forces, who had long formed designs upon the crown. 1585. This was perpetrated in May 1585, when he had reigned nearly eighteen years. In his time the consequence of the kingdom of Achin is represented to have arrived at a considerable height, and its friendship to have been courted by the most powerful states. No city in India possessed a more flourishing trade, the port being crowded with merchant vessels which were encouraged to resort thither by the moderate rates of the customs levied; and although the Portuguese and their ships were continually plundered, those belonging to every Asiatic power, from Mecca in the West to Japan in the East, appear to have enjoyed protection and security. The despotic authority of the monarch was counterpoised by the influence of the orang-kayas or nobility, who are described as being possessed of great wealth, living in fortified houses, surrounded by numerous dependants, and feeling themselves above control, often giving a licentious range to their proud and impatient tempers. The late monarch's daughter and only child was married to the king of Johor,* by whom she had a son, who, being regarded as heir to the crown of Achin, had been brought to the latter place to be educated under the eye of his grandfather. When the general (whose name is corruptly written Moratiza) assumed the powers of government, he declared himself the protector of this child, and we find him mentioned in the Annals by the title of Sultan Buyong (or the Boy). (*Footnote. The king of Achin sent on this occasion to Johor a piece of ordnance, such as for greatness, length, and workmanship (says Linschoten), could hardly be matched in all Christendom. It was afterwards taken by the Portuguese, who shipped it for Europe, but the vessel was lost in her passage.) 1588. But before he had completed the third year of his nominal reign he also was dispatched, and the usurper took formal possession of the throne in the year 1588, by the name of Ala-eddin Rayet-shah,* being then at an advanced period of life. (*Footnote. Valentyn, by an obvious corruption, names him Sulthan Alciden Ryetza, and this coincidence is strongly in favour of the authenticity and correctness of the Annals. John Davis, who will be hereafter mentioned, calls him, with sufficient accuracy, Sultan Aladin.) The Annals say he was the grandson of Sultan Firman-shah; but the Europeans who visited Achin during his reign report him to have been originally a fisherman, who, having afterwards served in the wars against Malacca, showed so much courage, prudence, and skill in maritime affairs that the late king made him at length the chief commander of his forces, and gave him one of his nearest kinswomen to wife, in right of whom he is said to have laid claim to the throne. The French Commodore Beaulieu relates the circumstances of this revolution in a very different manner.* (*Footnote. The commodore had great opportunity of information, was a man of very superior ability, and indefatigable in his inquiries upon all subjects, as appears by the excellent account of his voyage, and of Achin in particular, written by himself, and published in Thevenot's collection, of which there is an English translation in Harris; but it is possible he may, in this instance, have been amused by a plausible tale from the grandson of this monarch, with whom he had much intercourse. John Davis, an intelligent English navigator whose account I have followed, might have been more likely to hear the truth as he was at Achin (though not a frequenter of the court) during Ala-eddin's reign, whereas Beaulieu did not arrive till twenty' years after, and the report of his having been originally a fisherman is also mentioned by the Dutch writers.) He says that, upon the extinction of the ancient royal line, which happened about forty years before the period at which he wrote, the orang-kayas met in order to choose a king, but, every one affecting the dignity for himself, they could not agree and resolved to decide it by force. In this ferment the cadi or chief judge by his authority and remonstrances persuaded them to offer the crown to a certain noble who in all these divisions had taken no part, but had lived in the reputation of a wise, experienced man, being then seventy years of age, and descended from one of the most respectable families of the country. After several excuses on his side, and entreaties and even threats on theirs, he at length consented to accept the dignity thus imposed upon him, provided they should regard him as a father, and receive correction from him as his children; but no sooner was he in possession of the sovereign power than (like Pope Sixtus the Fifth) he showed a different face, and the first step after his accession was to invite the orang-kayas to a feast, where, as they were separately introduced, he caused them to be seized and murdered in a court behind the palace. He then proceeded to demolish their fortified houses, and lodged their cannon, arms, and goods in the castle, taking measures to prevent in future the erection of any buildings of substantial materials that could afford him grounds of jealousy. He raised his own adherents from the lower class of people to the first dignities of the state, and of those who presumed to express any disapprobation of his conduct he made great slaughter, being supposed to have executed not less than twenty thousand persons in the first year of his reign. From the silence of the Portuguese writers with respect to the actions of this king we have reason to conclude that he did not make any attempts to disturb their settlement of Malacca; and it even appears that some persons in the character of ambassadors or agents from that power resided at Achin, the principal object of whose policy appears to have been that of inspiring him with jealousy and hatred of the Hollanders, who in their turn were actively exerting themselves to supplant the conquerors of India. 1600. Towards the close of the sixteenth century they began to navigate these seas; and in June 1600 visited Achin with two ships, but had no cause to boast of the hospitality of their reception. An attempt was made to cut them off, and evidently by the orders or connivance of the king, who had prevailed upon the Dutch admiral to take on board troops and military stores for an expedition meditated, or pretended, against the city of Johor, which these ships were to bombard. Several of the crews were murdered, but after a desperate conflict in both ships the treacherous assailants were overcome and driven into the water, "and it was some pleasure (says John Davis, an Englishman, who was the principal pilot of the squadron) to see how the base Indians did fly, how they were killed, and how well they were drowned."* This barbarous and apparently unprovoked attack was attributed, but perhaps without any just grounds, to the instigation of the Portuguese. (*Footnote. All the Dutchmen on shore at the time were made prisoners, and many of them continued in that state for several years. Among these was Captain Frederick Houtman, whose Vocabulary of the Malayan language was printed at Amsterdam in 1604, being the first that was published in Europe. My copy has the writer's autograph.) 1600. In November 1600 Paulus van Caarden, having also the command of two Dutch ships, was received upon his landing with much ceremony; but at his first audience the king refused to read a letter from the Prince of Orange, upon its being suggested to him that instead of paper it was written on the skin of an unclean animal; and the subsequent treatment experienced by this officer was uniformly bad. It appears however that in December 1601 the king was so far reconciled to this new power as to send two ambassadors to Holland, one of whom died there in August 1602, and the other returned to Achin subsequently to the death of his master. 1602. The first English fleet that made its appearance in this part of the world, and laid the foundation of a commerce which was in time to eclipse that of every other European state, arrived at Achin in June 1602. Sir James Lancaster, who commanded it, was received by the king with abundant ceremony and respect, which seem with these monarchs to have been usually proportioned to the number of vessels and apparent strength of their foreign guests. The queen of England's letter was conveyed to court with great pomp, and the general, after delivering a rich present, the most admired article of which was a fan of feathers, declared the purpose of his coming was to establish peace and amity between his royal mistress and her loving brother, the great and mighty king of Achin. He was invited to a banquet prepared for his entertainment, in which the service was of gold, and the king's damsels, who were richly attired and adorned with bracelets and jewels, were ordered to divert him with dancing and music. Before he retired he was arrayed by the king in a magnificent habit of the country, and armed with two krises. In the present sent as a return for the queen's there was, among other matters, a valuable ruby set in a ring. Two of the nobles, one of whom was the chief priest, were appointed to settle with Lancaster the terms of a commercial treaty, which was accordingly drawn up and executed in an explicit and regular manner. The Portuguese ambassador, or more properly the Spanish, as those kingdoms were now united, kept a watchful and jealous eye upon his proceedings; but by bribing the spies who surrounded him he foiled them at their own arts, and acquired intelligence that enabled him to take a rich prize in the straits of Malacca, with which he returned to Achin; and, having loaded what pepper he could procure there, took his departure in November of the same year. On this occasion it was requested by the king that he and his officers would favour him by singing one of the psalms of David, which was performed with much solemnity. Very little is known of the military transactions of this reign, and no conquest but that of Pase is recorded. He had two sons, the younger of whom he made king of Pidir, and the elder, styled Sultan Muda, he kept at Achin, in order to succeed him in the throne. In the year 1603 he resolved to divide the charge of government with his intended heir, as he found his extraordinary age began to render him unequal to the task, and accordingly invested him with royal dignity; but the effect which might have been foreseen quickly followed this measure. The son, who was already advanced in years, became impatient to enjoy more complete power, and, thinking his father had possessed the crown sufficiently long, he confined him in a prison, where his days were soon ended. 1604. The exact period at which this event took place is not known, but, calculating from the duration of his reign as stated in the Annals, it must have been early in the year 1604.* He was then ninety-five years of age,** and described to be a hale man, but extremely gross and fat. (*Footnote. The Dutch commander Joris van Spilbergen took leave of him in April 1603, and his ambassador to Holland, who returned in December, 1604, found his son on the throne, according to Valentyn. Commodore Beaulieu says he died in 1603.) (**Footnote. According to Beaulieu Davis says he was about a hundred; and the Dutch voyages mention that his great age prevented his ever appearing out of his palace.) His constitution must have been uncommonly vigorous, and his muscular strength is indicated by this ludicrous circumstance, that when he once condescended to embrace a Dutch admiral, contrary to the usual manners of his country, the pressure of his arms was so violent as to cause excessive pain to the person so honoured. He was passionately addicted to women, gaming, and drink, his favourite beverage being arrack. By the severity of his punishments he kept his subjects in extreme awe of him; and the merchants were obliged to submit to more exactions and oppressions than were felt under the government of his predecessors. The seizure of certain vessels belonging to the people of Bantam and other arbitrary proceedings of that nature are said to have deterred the traders of India from entering into his ports. The new king, who took the name of Ali Maghayat-shah, proved himself, from indolence or want of capacity, unfit to reign. He was always surrounded by his women, who were not only his attendants but his guards, and carried arms for that purpose. His occupations were the bath and the chase, and the affairs of state were neglected insomuch that murders, robberies, oppression, and an infinity of disorders took place in the kingdom for want of a regular and strict administration of justice. A son of the daughter of Ala-eddin had been a favourite of his grandfather, at the time of whose death he was twenty-three years of age, and continued, with his mother, to reside at the court after that event. His uncle the king of Achin having given him a rebuke on some occasion, he left his palace abruptly and fled to the king of Pidir, who received him with affection, and refused to send him back at the desire of the elder brother, or to offer any violence to a young prince whom their father loved. This was the occasion of an inveterate war which cost the lives of many thousand people. The nephew commanded the forces of Pidir, and for some time maintained the advantage, but these, at length seeing themselves much inferior in numbers to the army of Ali-Maghayat, refused to march, and the king was obliged to give him up, when he was conveyed to Achin and put in close confinement. 1606. Not long afterwards a Portuguese squadron under Martin Alfonso, going to the relief of Malacca, then besieged by the Dutch, anchored in Achin road with the resolution of taking revenge on the king for receiving these their rivals into his ports, contrary to the stipulations of a treaty that had been entered into between them. The viceroy landed his men, who were opposed by a strong force on the part of the Achinese; but after a stout resistance they gained the first turf fort with two pieces of cannon, and commenced an attack upon the second, of masonry. In this critical juncture the young prince sent a message to his uncle requesting he might be permitted to join the army and expose himself in the ranks, declaring himself more willing to die in battle against the Kafers (so they always affected to call the Portuguese) than to languish like a slave in chains. The fears which operated upon the king's mind induced him to consent to his release. The prince showed so much bravery on this occasion, and conducted two or three attacks with such success that Alfonso was obliged to order a retreat, after wasting two days and losing three hundred men in this fruitless attempt. The reputation of the prince was raised by this affair to a high pitch amongst the people of Achin. His mother, who was an active, ambitious woman, formed the design of placing him on the throne, and furnished him with large sums of money, to be distributed in gratuities amongst the principal orang cayas. At the same time he endeavoured to ingratiate himself by his manners with all classes of people. To the rich he was courteous; to the poor he was affable; and he was the constant companion of those who were in the profession of arms. When the king had reigned between three and four years he died suddenly, and at the hour of his death the prince got access to the castle. He bribed the guards, made liberal promises to the officers, advanced a large sum of money to the governor, and sending for the chief priest obliged him by threats to crown him. In fine he managed the revolution so happily that he was proclaimed king before night, to the great joy of the people, who conceived vast hopes from his liberality, courtesy, and valour. The king of Pidir was speedily acquainted with the news of his brother's death, but not of the subsequent transactions, and came the next day to take possession of his inheritance. As he approached the castle with a small retinue he was seized by orders from the reigning prince, who, forgetting the favours he had received, kept him prisoner for a month, and then, sending him into the country under the pretence of a commodious retreat, had him murdered on the way. Those who put the crown on his head were not better requited; particularly the Maharaja, or governor of the castle. In a short time his disappointed subjects found that instead of being humane he was cruel; instead of being liberal he displayed extreme avarice, and instead of being affable he manifested a temper austere and inexorable. This king, whom the Annals name Iskander Muda, was known to our travellers by the title of sultan Paduka Sri (words equivalent to most gracious), sovereign of Achin and of the countries of Aru, Dilli, Johor, Pahang, Kedah, and Perak on the one side, and of Barus, Pasaman, Tiku, Sileda, and Priaman on the other. Some of these places were conquered by him, and others he inherited. 1613. He showed much friendship to the Hollanders in the early part of his reign; and in the year 1613 gave permission to the English to settle a factory, granting them many indulgences, in consequence of a letter and present from king James the first. He bestowed on Captain Best, who was the bearer of them, the title of orang kaya putih, and entertained him with the fighting of elephants, buffaloes, rams, and tigers. His answer to king James (a translation of which is to be found in Purchas) is couched in the most friendly terms, and he there styles himself king of all Sumatra. He expressed a strong desire that the king of England should send him one of his countrywomen to wife, and promised to make her eldest son king of all the pepper countries, that so the English might be supplied with that commodity by a monarch of their own nation. But notwithstanding his strong professions of attachment to us, and his natural connexion with the Hollanders, arising from their joint enmity to the Portuguese, it was not many years before he began to oppress both nations and use his endeavours to ruin their trade. He became jealous of their growing power, and particularly in consequence of intelligence that reached him concerning the encroachments made by the latter in the island of Java. The conquest of Aru seems never to have been thoroughly effected by the kings of Achin. Paduka Sri carried his arms thither and boasted of having obtained some victories. 1613. In 1613 he subdued Siak in its neighbourhood. Early in the same year he sent an expedition against the kingdom of Johor (which had always maintained a political connexion with Aru) and, reducing the city after a siege of twenty-nine days, plundered it of everything moveable, and made slaves of the miserable inhabitants. The king fled to the island of Bintang, but his youngest brother and coadjutor was taken prisoner and carried to Achin. The old king of Johor, who had so often engaged the Portuguese, left three sons, the eldest of whom succeeded him by the title of Iang de per-tuan.* (*Footnote. This is not an individual title or proper name, but signifies the sovereign or reigning monarch. In like manner Rega Bongsu signifies the king's youngest brother, as Raja Muda does the heir apparent.) The second was made king of Siak, and the third, called Raja Bongsu, reigned jointly with the first. He it was who assisted the Hollanders in the first siege of Malacca, and corresponded with Prince Maurice. The king of Achin was married to their sister, but this did not prevent a long and cruel war between them. A Dutch factory at Johor was involved in the consequences of this war, and several of that nation were among the prisoners. In the course of the same year however the king of Achin thought proper to establish Raja Bongsu on the throne of Johor, sending him back for that purpose with great honours, assisting him to rebuild the fort and city, and giving him one of his own sisters in marriage. 1615. In 1615 the king of Achin sailed to the attack of Malacca in a fleet which he had been four years employed in preparing. It consisted of above five hundred sail, of which a hundred were large galleys, greater than any at that time built in Europe, carrying each from six to eight hundred men, with three large cannon and several smaller pieces. These galleys the orang kayas were obliged to furnish, repair, and man, at the peril of their lives. The soldiers served without pay, and carried three months provision at their own charge. In this great fleet there were computed to be sixty thousand men, whom the king commanded in person. His wives and household were taken to sea with him. Coming in sight of the Portuguese ships in the afternoon, they received many shot from them but avoided returning any, as if from contempt. The next day they got ready for battle, and drew up in form of a half moon. A desperate engagement took place and lasted without intermission till midnight, during which the Portuguese admiral was three times boarded, and repeatedly on fire. Many vessels on both sides were also in flames and afforded light to continue the combat. At length the Achinese gave way, after losing fifty sail of different sizes, and twenty thousand men. They retired to Bancalis, on the eastern coast of Sumatra, and shortly afterwards sailed for Achin, the Portuguese not daring to pursue their victory, both on account of the damage they had sustained and their apprehension of the Hollanders, who were expected at Malacca. The king proposed that the prisoners taken should be mutually given up, which was agreed to, and was the first instance of that act of humanity and civilisation between the two powers. 1619. Three years afterwards the king made a conquest of the cities of Kedah and Perak on the Malayan coast, and also of a place called Dilli in Sumatra. This last had been strongly fortified by the assistance of the Portuguese, and gave an opportunity of displaying much skill in the attack. Trenches were regularly opened before it and a siege carried on for six weeks ere it fell. In the same year the king of Jorcan (a place unknown at present by that name) fled for refuge to Malacca with eighty sail of boats, having been expelled his dominions by the king of Achin. The Portuguese were not in a condition to afford him relief, being themselves surrounded with enemies and fearful of an attack from the Achinese more especially; but the king was then making preparations against an invasion he heard was meditated by the viceroy of Goa. Reciprocal apprehensions kept each party on the defensive. 1621. The French being desirous of participating in the commerce of Achin, of which all the European nations had formed great ideas, and all found themselves disappointed in, sent out a squadron commanded by General Beaulieu, which arrived in January 1621, and finally left it in December of the same year. He brought magnificent presents to the king, but these did not content his insatiable avarice, and he employed a variety of mean arts to draw from him further gifts. Beaulieu met also with many difficulties, and was forced to submit to much extortion in his endeavours to procure a loading of pepper, of which Achin itself, as has been observed, produced but little. The king informed him that he had some time since ordered all the plants to be destroyed, not only because the cultivation of them proved an injury to more useful agriculture, but also lest their produce might tempt the Europeans to serve him, as they had served the kings of Jakatra and Bantam. From this apprehension he had lately been induced to expel the English and Dutch from their settlements at Priaman and Tiku, where the principal quantity of pepper was procured, and of which places he changed the governor every third year to prevent any connexions dangerous to his authority from being formed. He had likewise driven the Dutch from a factory they were attempting to settle at Padang; which place appears to be the most remote on the western coast of the island to which the Achinese conquests at any time extended. 1628. Still retaining a strong desire to possess himself of Malacca, so many years the grand object of Achinese ambition, he imprisoned the ambassador then at his court, and made extraordinary preparations for the siege, which he designed to undertake in person. The laksamana or commander in chief (who had effected all the king's late conquests) attempted to oppose this resolution; but the maharaja, willing to flatter his master's propensity, undertook to put him in possession of the city and had the command of the fleet given to him, as the other had of the land forces. The king set out on the expedition with a fleet of two hundred and fifty sail (forty­seven of them not less than a hundred feet in the keel), in which were twenty thousand men well appointed, and a great train of artillery. After being some time on board, with his family and retinue as usual, he determined, on account of an ill omen that was observed, to return to the shore. The generals, proceeding without him, soon arrived before Malacca. Having landed their men they made a judicious disposition, and began the attack with much courage and military skill. The Portuguese were obliged to abandon several of their posts, one of which, after a defence of fifty days, was levelled with the ground, and from its ruins strong works were raised by the laksamana. The maharaja had seized another post advantageously situated. From their several camps they had lines of communication, and the boats on the river were stationed in such a manner that the place was completely invested. Matters were in this posture when a force of two thousand men came to the assistance of the besieged from the king of Pahang, and likewise five sail of Portuguese vessels from the coast of Coromandel; but all was insufficient to remove so powerful an enemy, although by that time they had lost four thousand of their troops in the different attacks and skirmishes. In the latter end of the year a fleet of thirty sail of ships, large and small, under the command of Nunno Alvarez Botello, having on board nine hundred European soldiers, appeared off Malacca, and blocked up the fleet of Achin in a river about three miles from the town. This entirely altered the complexion of affairs. The besiegers retired from their advanced works and hastened to the defence of their galleys, erecting batteries by the side of the river. The maharaja being summoned to surrender returned a civil but resolute answer. In the night, endeavouring to make his escape with the smaller vessels through the midst of the Portuguese, he was repulsed and wounded. Next day the whole force of the Achinese dropped down the stream with a design to fight their way, but after an engagement of two hours their principal galley, named the Terror of the World, was boarded and taken, after losing five hundred men of seven which she carried. Many other vessels were afterwards captured or sunk. The laksamana hung out a white flag and sent to treat with Nunno, but, some difficulty arising about the terms, the engagement was renewed with great warmth. News was brought to the Portuguese that the maharaja was killed and that the king of Pahang was approaching with a hundred sail of vessels to reinforce them. Still the Achinese kept up a dreadful fire, which seemed to render the final success doubtful; but at length they sent proposals desiring only to be allowed three galleys of all their fleet to carry away four thousand men who remained of twenty that came before the town. It was answered that they must surrender at discretion; which the laksamana hesitating to do, a furious assault took place both by water and land upon his galleys and works, which were all effectually destroyed or captured, not a ship and scarcely a man escaping. He himself in the last extremity fled to the woods, but was seized ere long by the king of Pahang's scouts. Being brought before the governor he said to him, with an undaunted countenance, "Behold here the laksamana for the first time overcome!" He was treated with respect but kept a prisoner, and sent on his own famous ship to Goa in order to be from thence conveyed to Portugal: but death deprived his enemies of that distinguished ornament of their triumph. 1635. This signal defeat proved so important a blow to the power of Achin that we read of no further attempts to renew the war until the year 1635, when the king, encouraged by the feuds which at this time prevailed in Malacca, again violated the law of nations, to him little known, by imprisoning their ambassador, and caused all the Portuguese about his court to be murdered. No military operations however immediately took place in consequence of this barbarous proceeding. 1640. 1641. In the year 1640 the Dutch with twelve men of war, and the king of Achin with twenty-five galleys, appeared before that harassed and devoted city; which at length, in the following year was wrested from the hands of the Portuguese, who had so long, through such difficulties, maintained possession of it. This year was also marked by the death of the sultan, whom the Dutch writers name Paduka Sri, at the age of sixty, after a reign of thirty-five years; having just lived to see his hereditary foe subdued; and as if the opposition of the Portuguese power, which seems first to have occasioned the rise of that of Achin, was also necessary to its existence, the splendour and consequence of the kingdom from that period rapidly declined. The prodigious wealth and resources of the monarchy during his reign are best evinced by the expeditions he was enabled to fit out; but being no less covetous than ambitious he contrived to make the expenses fall upon his subjects, and at the same time filled his treasury with gold by pressing the merchants and plundering the neighbouring states. An intelligent person (General Beaulieu), who was for some time at his court, and had opportunities of information on the subject, uses this strong expression--that he was infinitely rich. He constantly employed in his castle three hundred goldsmiths. This would seem an exaggeration, but that it is well known the Malayan princes have them always about them in great numbers at this day, working in the manufacture of filigree, for which the country is so famous. His naval strength has been already sufficiently described. He was possessed of two thousand brass guns and small arms in proportion. His trained elephants amounted to some hundreds. His armies were probably raised only upon the occasion which called for their acting, and that in a mode similar to what was established under the feudal system in Europe. The valley of Achin alone was said to be able to furnish forty thousand men upon an emergency. A certain number of warriors however were always kept on foot for the protection of the king and his capital. Of these the superior class were called ulubalang, and the inferior amba-raja, who were entirely devoted to his service and resembled the janizaries of Constantinople. Two hundred horsemen nightly patrolled the grounds about the castle, the inner courts and apartments of which were guarded by three thousand women. The king's eunuchs amounted to five hundred. The disposition of this monarch was cruel and sanguinary. A multitude of instances are recorded of the horrible barbarity of his punishments, and for the most trivial offences. He imprisoned his own mother and put her to the torture, suspecting her to have been engaged in a conspiracy against him with some of the principal nobles, whom he caused to be executed. He murdered his nephew, the king of Johor's son, of whose favour with his mother he was jealous. He also put to death a son of the king of Bantam, and another of the king of Pahang, who were both his near relations. None of the royal family survived in 1622 but his own son, a youth of eighteen, who had been thrice banished the court, and was thought to owe his continuance in life only to his surpassing his father, if possible, in cruelty, and being hated by all ranks of people. He was at one time made king of Pidir but recalled on account of his excesses, confined in prison and put to strange tortures by his father, whom he did not outlive. The whole territory of Achin was almost depopulated by wars, executions, and oppression. The king endeavoured to repeople the country by his conquests. Having ravaged the kingdoms of Johor, Pahang, Kedah, Perak, and Dilli, he transported the inhabitants from those places to Achin, to the number of twenty-two thousand persons. But this barbarous policy did not produce the effect he hoped; for the unhappy people, being brought naked to his dominions, and not allowed any kind of maintenance on their arrival, died of hunger in the streets. In the planning his military enterprises he was generally guided by the distresses of his neighbours, for whom, as for his prey, he unceasingly lay in wait; and his preparatory measures were taken with such secrecy that the execution alone unravelled them. Insidious political craft and wanton delight in blood united in him to complete the character of a tyrant. It must here be observed that, with respect to the period of this remarkable reign, the European and Malayan authorities are considerably at variance, the latter assigning to it something less than thirty solar years, and placing the death of Iskander Muda in December 1636. The Annals further state that he was succeeded by sultan Ala-eddin­Mahayat-shah, who reigned only about four years and died in February 1641. That this is the more accurate account I have no hesitation in believing, although Valentyn, who gives a detail of the king's magnificent funeral, was persuaded that the reign which ended in 1641 was the same that began in 1607. But he collected his information eighty years after the event, and as it does not appear that any European whose journal has been given to the world was on the spot at that period, the death of an obscure monarch who died after a short reign may well have been confounded by persons at a distance with that of his more celebrated predecessor. Both authorities however are agreed in the important fact that the successor to the throne in 1641 was a female. This person is described by Valentyn as being the wife of the old king, and not his daughter, as by some had been asserted; but from the Annals it appears that she was his daughter, named Taju al-alum; and as it was in her right that Maghayat-shah (certainly her husband), obtained the crown, so upon his decease, there being no male heir, she peaceably succeeded him in the government, and became the first queen regent of Achin. The succession having thenceforward continued nearly sixty years in the female line, this may be regarded as a new era in the history of the country. The nobles finding their power less restrained, and their individual consequence more felt under an administration of this kind than when ruled by kings (as sometimes they were with a rod of iron) supported these pageants, whom they governed as they thought fit, and thereby virtually changed the constitution into an aristocracy or oligarchy. The business of the state was managed by twelve orang-kayas, four of whom were superior to the rest, and among these the maharaja, or governor of the kingdom, was considered as the chief. It does not appear, nor is it probable, that the queen had the power of appointing or removing any of these great officers. No applications were made to the throne but in their presence, nor any public resolution taken but as they determined in council. The great object of their political jealousy seems to have been the pretensions of the king of Johor to the crown, in virtue of repeated intermarriages between the royal families of the two countries, and it may be presumed that the alarms excited from that quarter materially contributed to reconcile them to the female domination. They are accordingly said to have formed an engagement amongst themselves never to pay obedience to a foreign prince, nor to allow their royal mistress to contract any marriage that might eventually lead to such a consequence.* At the same time, by a new treaty with Johor, its king was indirectly excused from the homage to the crown of Achin which had been insisted upon by her predecessors and was the occasion of frequent wars. (*Footnote. However fanciful it may be thought, I cannot doubt that the example of our Queen Elizabeth, whose character and government were highly popular with the Achinese on account of her triumphant contest with the united powers of Spain and Portugal, had a strong influence in the establishment of this new species of monarchy, and that the example of her sister's marriage with Philip may have contributed to the resolution taken by the nobles. The actions of our illustrious queen were a common topic of conversation between the old tyrant and Sir James Lancaster.) In proportion as the political consequence of the kingdom declined, its history, as noticed by foreigners, becomes obscure. Little is recorded of the transactions of her reign, and it is likely that Achin took no active part in the concerns of neighbouring powers, but suffered the Hollanders, who maintained in general a friendly intercourse with her, to remain in quiet possession of Malacca. 1643. In 1643 they sent an ambassador to compliment her upon her accession, and at the same time to solicit payment for a quantity of valuable jewels ordered by the deceased king, but for the amount of which she declined to make herself responsible. 1660. It is said (but the fact will admit of much doubt) that in 1660 she was inclined to marry one of their countrymen, and would have carried her design into execution had not the East India Company prevented by their authority a connexion that might, as they prudently judged, be productive of embarrassment to their affairs. 1664. The Dutch however complain that she gave assistance to their enemies the people of Perak, and in 1664 it was found necessary to send a squadron under the command of Pieter de Bitter to bring her to reason. As it happened that she was at this time at war with some of her own dependants he made himself master of several places on the western coast that were nominally at least belonging to Achin. 1666. About 1666 the English establishments at Achin and some ports to the southward appear to have given considerable umbrage to their rivals. 1669. In 1669 the people of Dilli on the north-eastern coast threw off their allegiance, and the power of the kingdom became gradually more and more circumscribed. 1675. This queen died in 1675, after reigning, with a degree of tranquillity little known in these countries, upwards of thirty-four years. The people being now accustomed and reconciled to female rule, which they found more lenient than that of their kings, acquiesced in general in the established mode of government. 1677. And she was immediately succeeded by another female monarch, named Nur al-alum, who reigned little more than two years and died in 1677. The queen who succeeded her was named Anayet-shah. 1684. In the year 1684 she received an embassy from the English government of Madras, and appeared at that time to be about forty years. The persons who were on this occasion presented to her express their suspicions, which were suggested to them by a doubt prevailing amongst the inhabitants, that this sovereign was not a real queen, but a eunuch dressed up in female apparel, and imposed on the public by the artifices of the orang kayas. But as such a cheat, though managed with every semblance of reality (which they observe was the case) could not be carried on for any number of years without detection, and as the same idea does not appear to have been entertained at any other period, it is probable they were mistaken in their surmise. Her person they describe to have been large, and her voice surprisingly strong, but not manly.* (*Footnote. The following curious passage is extracted from the journal of these gentlemen's proceedings. "We went to give our attendance at the palace this day as customary. Being arrived at the place of audience with the orang cayos, the queen was pleased to order us to come nearer, when her majesty was very inquisitive into the use of our wearing periwigs, and what was the convenience of them; to all which we returned satisfactory answers. After this her majesty desired of Mr. Ord, if it were no affront to him, that he would take off his periwig, that she might see how he appeared without it; which, according to her majesty's request, he did. She then told us she had heard of our business, and would give her answer by the orang cayos; and so we retired." I venture, with submission, to observe that this anecdote seems to put the question of the sex beyond controversy.) The purport of the embassy was to obtain liberty to erect a fortification in her territory, which she peremptorily refused, being contrary to the established rules of the kingdom; adding that if the governor of Madras would fill her palace with gold she could not permit him to build with brick either fort or house. To have a factory of timber and plank was the utmost indulgence that could be allowed; and on that footing the return of the English, who had not traded there for many years, should be welcomed with great friendship. The queen herself, the orang kayas represented, was not allowed to fortify lest some foreign power might avail themselves of it to enslave the country. In the course of these negotiations it was mentioned that the agriculture of Achin had suffered considerably of late years by reason of a general licence given to all the inhabitants to search for gold in the mountains and rivers which afforded that article; whereas the business had formerly been restricted to certain authorized persons, and the rest obliged to till the ground. 1684. The court feared to give a public sanction for the settlement of the English on any part of the southern coast lest it should embroil them with the other European powers.* (*Footnote. The design of settling a factory at this period in the dominions of Achin was occasioned by the recent loss of our establishment at Bantam, which had been originally fixed by Sir James Lancaster in 1603. The circumstances of this event were as follows. The old sultan had thought proper to share the regal power with his son in the year 1677, and this measure was attended with the obvious effect of a jealousy between the parent and child, which soon broke forth into open hostilities. The policy of the Dutch led them to take an active part in favour of the young sultan, who had inclined most to their interests and now solicited their aid. The English on the other hand discouraged what appeared to them an unnatural rebellion, but without interfering, as they said, in any other character than that of mediators, or affording military assistance to either party; and which their extreme weakness rather than their assertions renders probable. On the twenty-eighth of March 1682 the Dutch landed a considerable force from Batavia, and soon terminated the war. They placed the young sultan on the throne, delivering the father into his custody, and obtained from him in return for these favours an exclusive privilege of trade in his territories; which was evidently the sole object they had in view. On the first day of April possession was taken of the English factory by a party of Dutch and country soldiers, and on the twelfth the agent and council were obliged to embark with their property on vessels provided for the purpose, which carried them to Batavia. From thence they proceeded to Surat on the twenty-second of August in the following year. In order to retain a share in the pepper-trade the English turned their thoughts towards Achin, and a deputation, consisting of two gentlemen, of the names of Old and Cawley, was sent thither in 1684; the success of which is above related. It happened that at this time certain Rajas or chiefs of the country of Priaman and other places on the west coast of Sumatra were at Achin also to solicit aid of that court against the Dutch, who had made war upon and otherwise molested them. These immediately applied to Mr. Ord, expressing a strong desire that the English should settle in their respective districts, offering ground for a fort and the exclusive purchase of their pepper. They consented to embark for Madras, where an agreement was formed with them by the governor in the beginning of the year 1685 on the terms they had proposed. In consequence of this an expedition was fitted out with the design of establishing a settlement at Priaman; but a day or two before the ships sailed an invitation to the like purport was received from the chiefs of Bang­kaulu (since corruptly called Bencoolen); and as it was known that a considerable proportion of the pepper that used to be exported from Bantam had been collected from the neighbourhood of Bencoolen (at a place called Silebar), it was judged advisable that Mr. Ord, who was the person entrusted with the management of this business, should first proceed thither; particularly as at that season of the year it was the windward port. He arrived there on the twenty-fifth day of June 1685, and, after taking possession of the country assigned to the English Company, and leaving Mr. Broome in charge of the place, he sailed for the purpose of establishing the other settlements. He stopped first at Indrapura, where he found three Englishmen who were left of a small factory that had been some time before settled there by a man of the name of Du Jardin. Here he learned that the Dutch, having obtained a knowledge of the original intention of our fixing at Priaman, had anticipated us therein and sent a party to occupy the situation. In the meantime it was understood in Europe that this place was the chief of our establishments on the coast, and ships were accordingly consigned thither. The same was supposed at Madras, and troops and stores were sent to reinforce it, which were afterwards landed at Indrapura. A settlement was then formed at Manjuta, and another attempted at Batang-kapas in 1686; but here the Dutch, assisted by a party amongst the natives, assaulted and drove out our people. Every possible opposition, as it was natural to expect, was given by these our rivals to the success of our factories. They fixed themselves in the neighbourhood of them and endeavoured to obstruct the country people from carrying pepper to them or supplying them with provisions either by sea or land. Our interests however in the end prevailed, and Bencoolen in particular, to which the other places were rendered subordinate in 1686, began to acquire some degree of vigour and respectability. In 1689 encouragement was given to Chinese colonists to settle there, whose number has been continually increasing from that time. In 1691 the Dutch felt the loss of their influence at Silebar and other of the southern countries, where they attempted to exert authority in the name of the sultan of Bantam, and the produce of these places was delivered to the English. This revolution proceeded from the works with which about this time our factory was strengthened. In 1695 a settlement was made at Triamang, and two years after at Kattaun and Sablat. The first, in the year 1700, was removed to Bantal. Various applications were made by the natives in different parts of the island for the establishment of factories, particularly from Ayer-Bangis to the northward, Palembang on the eastern side, and the people from the countries south of Tallo, near Manna. A person was sent to survey these last, as far as Pulo Pisang and Kroi, in 1715. In consequence of the inconvenience attending the shipping of goods from Bencoolen River, which is often impracticable from the surfs, a warehouse was built in 1701 at a place then called the cove; which gave the first idea of removing the settlement to the point of land which forms the bay of Bencoolen. The unhealthiness of the old situation was thought to render this an expedient step; and accordingly about 1714 it was in great measure relinquished, and the foundations of Fort Marlborough were laid on a spot two or three miles distant. Being a high plain it was judged to possess considerable advantages; many of which however are counterbalanced by its want of the vicinity of a river, so necessary for the ready and plentiful supply of provisions. Some progress had been made in the erection of this fort when an accident happened that had nearly destroyed the Company's views. The natives incensed at ill treatment received from the Europeans, who were then but little versed in the knowledge of their dispositions or the art of managing them by conciliating methods, rose in a body in the year 1719, and forced the garrison, whose ignorant fears rendered them precipitate, to seek refuge on board their ships. These people began now to feel alarms lest the Dutch, taking advantage of the absence of the English, should attempt an establishment, and soon permitted some persons from the northern factories to resettle the place; and, supplies arriving from Madras, things returned to their former course, and the fort was completed. The Company's affairs on this coast remained in tranquillity for a number of years. The important settlement of Natal was established in 1752, and that of Tappanuli a short time afterwards; which involved the English in fresh disputes with the Dutch, who set up a claim to the country in which they are situated. In the year 1760 the French under Comte d'Estaing destroyed all the English settlements on the coast of Sumatra; but they were soon reestablished and our possession secured by the treaty of Paris in 1763. Fort Marlborough, which had been hitherto a peculiar subordinate of Fort St. George, was now formed into an independent presidency, and was furnished with a charter for erecting a mayor's court, but which has never been enforced. In 1781 a detachment of military from thence embarked upon five East India ships and took possession of Padang and all other Dutch factories in consequence of the war with that nation. In 1782 the magazine of Fort Marlborough, in which were four hundred barrels of powder, was fired by lightning and blew up; but providentially few lives were lost. In 1802 an act of parliament was passed "to authorize the East India Company to make their settlement at Fort Marlborough in the East Indies, a factory subordinate to the presidency of Fort William in Bengal, and to transfer the servants who on the reduction of that establishment shall be supernumerary, to the presidency of Fort St. George." In 1798 plants of the nutmeg and clove had for the first time been procured from the Moluccas; and in 1803 a large importation of these valuable articles of cultivation took place. As the plantations were, by the last accounts from thence, in the most flourishing state, very important commercial advantages were expected to be derived from the culture.) A few years before these transactions she had invited the king of Siam to renew the ancient connexion between their respective states, and to unite in a league against the Dutch, by whose encroachments the commerce of her subjects and the extent of her dominions were much circumscribed. It does not appear however that this overture was attended with any effect, nor have the limits of the Achinese jurisdiction since that period extended beyond Pidir on the northern, and Barus on the western coast. 1688. She died in 1688, having reigned something less than eleven years, and was succeeded by a young queen named Kamalat-shah; but this did not take place without a strong opposition from a faction amongst the orang kayas which wanted to set up a king, and a civil war actually commenced. The two parties drew up their forces on opposite sides of the river, and for two or three nights continued to fire at each other, but in the daytime followed their ordinary occupations. These opportunities of intercourse made them sensible of their mutual folly. They agreed to throw aside their arms and the crown remained in possession of the newly elected queen. It was said to have been esteemed essential that she should be a maiden, advanced in years, and connected by blood with the ancient royal line. In this reign an English factory, which had been long discontinued, was reestablished at Achin, but in the interval some private traders of this nation had always resided on the spot. These usually endeavoured to persuade the state that they represented the India Company, and sometimes acquired great influence, which they are accused of having employed in a manner not only detrimental to that body but to the interests of the merchants of India in general by monopolizing the trade of the port, throwing impediments in the way of all shipping not consigned to their management, and embezzling the cargoes of such as were. An asylum was also afforded, beyond the reach of law, for all persons whose crimes or debts induced them to fly from the several European settlements. These considerations chiefly made the Company resolve to reclaim their ancient privileges in that kingdom, and a deputation was sent from the presidency of Madras in the year 1695 for that purpose, with letters addressed to her illustrious majesty the queen of Achin, desiring permission to settle on the terms her predecessors had granted to them; which was readily complied with, and a factory, but on a very limited scale, was established accordingly, but soon declined and disappeared. In 1704, when Charles Lockyer (whose account of his voyage, containing a particular description of this place, was published in 1711) visited Achin, one of these independent factors, named Francis Delton, carried on a flourishing trade. In 1695 the Achinese were alarmed by the arrival of six sail of Dutch ships of force, with a number of troops on board, in their road, not having been visited by any of that nation for fifteen years, but they departed without offering any molestation. 1699. This queen was deposed by her subjects (whose grounds of complaint are not stated) about the latter part of the year 1699, after reigning also eleven years; and with her terminated the female dynasty, which, during its continuance of about fifty-nine years, had attracted much notice in Europe. Her successor was named Beder al-alum sherif Hasham, the nature of whose pretensions to the crown does not positively appear, but there is reason to believe that he was her brother. When he had reigned a little more than two years it pleased God (as the Annals express it) to afflict him with a distemper which caused his feet and hands to contract (probably the gout) and disqualified him for the performance of his religious duties. 1702. Under these circumstances he was induced to resign the government in 1702, and died about a month after his abdication. Perkasa-alum, a priest, found means by his intrigues to acquire the sovereignty, and one of his first acts was to attempt imposing certain duties on the merchandise imported by English traders, who had been indulged with an exemption from all port charges excepting the established complimentary presents upon their arrival and receiving the chap or licence. This had been stipulated in the treaty made by Sir James Lancaster, and renewed by Mr. Grey when chief of the Company's factory. The innovation excited an alarm and determined opposition on the part of the masters of ships then at the place, and they proceeded (under the conduct of Captain Alexander Hamilton, who published an account of his voyage in 1727) to the very unwarrantable step of commencing hostilities by firing upon the villages situated near the mouth of the river, and cutting off from the city all supplies of provisions by sea. The inhabitants, feeling severely the effects of these violent measures, grew clamorous against the government, which was soon obliged to restore to these insolent traders the privileges for which they contended. 1704. Advantage was taken of the public discontents to raise an insurrection in favour of the nephew of the late queen, or, according to the Annals, the son of Beder al-alum (who was probably her brother), in the event of which Perkasa-alum was deposed about the commencement of the year 1704, and after an interregnum or anarchy of three months continuance, the young prince obtained possession of the throne, by the name of Jemal al-alum. From this period the native writers furnish very ample details of the transactions of the Achinese government, as well as of the general state of the country, whose prosperous circumstances during the early part of this king's reign are strongly contrasted with the misery and insignificance to which it was reduced by subsequent events. The causes and progress of this political decline cannot be more satisfactorily set forth than in a faithful translation of the Malayan narrative which was drawn up, or extracted from a larger work, for my use, and is distinct from the Annals already mentioned: When raja Jemal al-alum reigned in Achin the country was exceedingly populous, the nobles had large possessions, the merchants were numerous and opulent, the judgments of the king were just, and no man could experience the severity of punishment but through his own fault. In those days the king could not trade on his own account, the nobles having combined to prevent it; but the accustomed duties of the port were considered as his revenue, and ten per cent was levied for this purpose upon all merchandise coming into the country. The city was then of great extent, the houses were of brick and stone. The most considerable merchant was a man named Daniel, a Hollander; but many of different nations were also settled there, some from Surat, some from Kutch, others from China. When ships arrived in the port, if the merchants could not take off all the cargoes the king advanced the funds for purchasing what remained, and divided the goods among them, taking no profit to himself. After the departure of the vessel the king was paid in gold the amount of his principal, without interest. His daily amusements were in the grounds allotted for the royal sports. He was attended by a hundred young men, who were obliged to be constantly near his person day and night, and who were clothed in a sumptuous manner at a monthly expense of a hundred dollars for each man. The government of the different parts of the country was divided, under his authority, amongst the nobles. When a district appeared to be disturbed he took measures for quelling the insurrection; those who resisted his orders he caused to be apprehended; when the roads were bad he gave directions for their repair. Such was his conduct in the government. His subjects all feared him, and none dared to condemn his actions. At that time the country was in peace. When he had been a few years on the throne a country lying to the eastward, named Batu Bara, attempted to throw off its subjection to Achin. The chiefs were ordered to repair to court to answer for their conduct, but they refused to obey. These proceedings raised the king's indignation. He assembled the nobles and required of them that each should furnish a vessel of war, to be employed on an expedition against that place, and within two months, thirty large galleys, without counting vessels of a smaller size, were built and equipped for sea. When the fleet arrived off Batu Bara (by which must be understood the Malayan district at the mouth of the river, and not the Batta territory through which it takes its course), a letter was sent on shore addressed to the refractory chiefs, summoning them to give proof of their allegiance by appearing in the king's presence, or threatening the alternative of an immediate attack. After much division in their councils it was at length agreed to feign submission, and a deputation was sent off to the royal fleet, carrying presents of fruit and provisions of all kinds. One of the chiefs carried, as his complimentary offering, some fresh coconuts, of the delicate species called kalapa-gading, into which a drug had been secretly introduced. The king observing these directed that one should be cut open for him, and having drunk of the juice, became affected with a giddiness in his head. (This symptom shows the poison to have been the upas, but too much diluted in the liquor of the nut to produce death). Being inclined to repose, the strangers were ordered to return on shore, and, finding his indisposition augment, he gave directions for being conveyed back to Achin, whither his ship sailed next day. The remainder of the fleet continued off the coast during five or six days longer, and then returned likewise without effecting the reduction of the place, which the chiefs had lost no time in fortifying. About two years after this transaction the king, under pretence of amusement, made an excursion to the country lying near the source of the river Achin, then under the jurisdiction of a panglima or governor named Muda Seti; for it must be understood that this part of the kingdom is divided into three districts, known by the appellations of the Twenty-two, Twenty-six, and Twenty-five Mukims (see above), which were governed respectively by Muda Seti, Imam Muda, and Perbawang­Shah (or Purba-wangsa). These three chiefs had the entire control of the country, and when their views were united they had the power of deposing and setting up kings. Such was the nature of the government. The king's expedition was undertaken with the design of making himself master of the person of Muda Seti, who had given him umbrage, and on this occasion his followers of all ranks were so numerous that wherever they halted for the night the fruits of the earth were all devoured, as well as great multitudes of cattle. Muda Seti however, being aware of the designs against him, had withdrawn himself from the place of his usual residence and was not to be found when the king arrived there; but a report being brought that he had collected five or six hundred followers and was preparing to make resistance, orders were immediately given for burning his house. This being effected, the king returned immediately to Achin, leaving the forces that had accompanied him at a place called Pakan Badar, distant about half a day's journey from the capital, where they were directed to entrench themselves. From this post they were driven by the country chief, who advanced rapidly upon them with several thousand men, and forced them to fall back to Padang Siring, where the king was collecting an army, and where a battle was fought soon after, that terminated in the defeat of the royal party with great slaughter. Those who escaped took refuge in the castle along with the king. 1723. Under these disastrous circumstances he called upon the chiefs who adhered to him to advise what was best to be done, surrounded as they were by the country people, on whom he invoked the curse of God; when one of them, named Panglima Maharaja, gave it as his opinion that the only effectual measure by which the country could be saved from ruin would be the king's withdrawing himself from the capital so long as the enemy should continue in its vicinity, appointing a regent from among the nobles to govern the country in his absence; and when subordination should be restored he might then return and take again possession of his throne. To this proposition he signified his assent on the condition that Panglima Maharaja should assure him by an oath that no treachery was intended; which oath was accordingly taken, and the king, having nominated as his substitute Maharaja Lela, one of the least considerable of the ulubalangs, retired with his wives and children to the country of the Four mukims, situated about three hours journey to the westward of the city. (The Annals say he fled to Pidir in November 1723.) Great ravages were committed by the insurgents, but they did not attack the palace, and after some days of popular confusion the chiefs of the Three districts, who (says the writer) must not be confounded with the officers about the person of the king, held a consultation amongst themselves, and, exercising an authority of which there had been frequent examples, set up Panglima Maharaja in the room of the abdicated king (by the title, say the Annals, of Juhar al-alum, in December 1723). About seven days after his elevation he was seized with a convulsive disorder in his neck and died. A nephew of Jemal al-alum, named Undei Tebang, was then placed upon the throne, but notwithstanding his having bribed the chiefs of the Three districts with thirty katties of gold, they permitted him to enjoy his dignity only a few days, and then deposed him. (The same authority states that he was set up by the chiefs of the Four mukims, and removed through the influence of Muda Seti.) 1724. 1735. The person whom they next combined to raise to the throne was Maharaja Lela (before mentioned as the king's substitute). It was his good fortune to govern the country in tranquillity for the space of nearly twelve years, during which period the city of Achin recovered its population. (According to the Annals he began to reign in February 1724, by the title of Ala ed-din Ahmed shah Juhan, and died in June 1735.) It happened that the same day on which the event of his death took place Jemal al-alum again made his appearance, and advanced to a mosque near the city. His friends advised him to lose no time in possessing himself of the castle, but for trifling reasons that mark the weakness of his character he resolved to defer the measure till the succeeding day; and the opportunity, as might be expected, was lost. The deceased king left five sons, the eldest of whom, named Po-chat-au (or Po-wak, according to another manuscript) exhorted his brothers to unite with him in the determination of resisting a person whose pretensions were entirely inconsistent with their security. They accordingly sent to demand assistance of Perbawang-shah, chief of the district of the Twenty-five mukims, which lies the nearest to that quarter. He arrived before morning, embraced the five princes, confirmed them in their resolution, and authorised the eldest to assume the government (which he did, say the Annals, by the title of Ala ed-din Juhan-shah in September 1735.) But to this measure the concurrence of the other chiefs was wanting. At daybreak the guns of the castle began to play upon the mosque, and, some of the shot penetrating its walls, the pusillanimous Jemal al-alum, being alarmed at the danger, judged it advisable to retreat from thence and to set up his standard in another quarter, called kampong Jawa, his people at the same time retaining possession of the mosque. A regular warfare now ensued between the two parties and continued for no less than ten years (the great chiefs taking different sides), when at length some kind of compromise was effected that left Po-chat-au (Juhan­shah) in the possession of the throne, which he afterwards enjoyed peaceably for eight years, and no further mention is made of Jemal al-alum. About this period the chiefs took umbrage at his interfering in matters of trade, contrary to what they asserted to be the established custom of the realm, and assembled their forces in order to intimidate him. (The history of Achin presents a continual struggle between the monarch and the aristocracy of the country, which generally made the royal monopoly of trade the ground of crimination and pretext for their rebellions). 1755. Panglima Muda Seti, being considered as the head of the league, came down with twenty thousand followers, and, upon the king's refusing to admit into the castle his complimentary present (considering it only as the prelude to humiliating negotiation), another war commenced that lasted for two years, and was at length terminated by Muda Seti's withdrawing from the contest and returning to his province. About five years after this event Juhan shah died, and his son, Pochat-bangta, succeeded him, but not (says this writer, who here concludes his abstract) with the general concurrence of the chiefs, and the country long continued in a disturbed state. END OF NARRATIVE. 1760. The death of Juhan shah is stated in the Annals to have taken place in August 1760, and the accession of the son, who took the name of Ala-eddin Muhammed shah, not until November of the same year. Other authorities place these events in 1761. 1763. Before he had completed the third year of his reign an insurrection of his subjects obliged him to save himself by flight on board a ship in the road. This happened in 1763 or 1764. The throne was seized by the maharaja (first officer of state) named Sinara, who assumed the title of Beder-eddin Juhan shah, and about the end of 1765 was put to death by the adherents of the fugitive monarch, Muhammed shah, who thereupon returned to the throne.* (*Footnote. Captain Forrest acquaints us that he visited the court of Mahomed Selim (the latter name is not given to this prince by any other writer) in the year 1764, at which time he appeared to be about forty years of age. It is difficult to reconcile this date with the recorded events of this unfortunate reign, and I have doubts whether it was not the usurper whom the Captain saw.) He was exposed however to further revolutions. About six years after his restoration the palace was attacked in the night by a desperate band of two hundred men, headed by a man called Raja Udah, and he was once more obliged to make a precipitate retreat. This usurper took the title of sultan Suliman shah, but after a short reign of three months was driven out in his turn and forced to fly for refuge to one of the islands in the eastern sea. The nature of his pretensions, if he had any, have not been stated, but he never gave any further trouble. From this period Muhammed maintained possession of his capital, although it was generally in a state of confusion. 1772. "In the year 1772," says Captain Forrest, "Mr. Giles Holloway, resident of Tappanooly, was sent to Achin by the Bencoolen government, with a letter and present, to ask leave from the king to make a settlement there. I carried him from his residency. Not being very well on my arrival, I did not accompany Mr. Holloway (a very sensible and discreet gentleman, and who spoke the Malay tongue very fluently) on shore at his first audience; and finding his commission likely to prove abortive I did not go to the palace at all. There was great anarchy and confusion at this time; and the malcontents came often, as I was informed, near the king's palace at night." 1775. The Captain further remarks that when again there in 1775 he could not obtain an audience. 1781. The Annals report his death to have happened on the 2nd of June 1781, and observe that from the commencement to the close of his reign the country never enjoyed repose. His brother, named Ala-eddin (or Uleddin, as commonly pronounced, and which seems to have been a favourite title with the Achinese princes), was in exile at Madras during a considerable period, and resided also for some time at Bencoolen. The eldest son of the deceased king, then about eighteen years of age, succeeded him on the 16th of the same month, by the title of Ala-eddin Mahmud shah Juhan, in spite of an opposition attempted to be raised by the partisans of another son by a favourite wife. Weapons had been drawn in the court before the palace, when the tuanku agung or high priest, a person of great respectability and influence, by whom the former had been educated, came amidst the crowd, bareheaded and without attendance, leading his pupil by the hand. Having placed himself between the contending factions, he addressed them to the following effect: that the prince who stood before them had a natural right and legal claim to the throne of his father; that he had been educated with a view to it, and was qualified to adorn it by his disposition and talents; that he wished however to found his pretensions neither upon his birthright nor the strength of the party attached to him, but upon the general voice of his subjects calling him to the sovereignty; that if such was their sentiment he was ready to undertake the arduous duties of the station, in which he himself would assist him with the fruits of his experience; that if on the contrary they felt a predilection for his rival, no blood should be shed on his account, the prince and his tutor being resolved in that case to yield the point without a struggle, and retire to some distant island. This impressive appeal had the desired effect, and the young prince was invited by unanimous acclamation to assume the reins of government.* (*Footnote. Mr. Philip Braham, late chief of the East India Company's settlement of Fort Marlborough, by whom the circumstances of this event were related to me, arrived at Achin in July 1781, about a fortnight after the transaction. He thus described his audience. The king was seated in a gallery (to which there were no visible steps), at the extremity of a spacious hall or court, and a curtain which hung before him was drawn aside when it was his pleasure to appear. In this court were great numbers of female attendants, but not armed, as they have been described. Mr. Braham was introduced through a long file of guards armed with blunderbusses, and then seated on a carpet in front of the gallery. When a conversation had been carried on for some time through the Shabandar, who communicated his answers to an interpreter, by whom they were reported to the king, the latter perceiving that he spoke the Malayan language addressed him directly, and asked several questions respecting England; what number of wives and children our sovereign had; how many ships of war the English kept in India; what was the French force, and others of that nature. He expressed himself in friendly terms with regard to our nation, and said he should always be happy to countenance our traders in his ports. Even at this early period of his reign he had abolished some vexatious imposts. Mr. Braham had an opportunity of learning the great degree of power and control possessed by certain of the orang kayas, who held their respective districts in actual sovereignty, and kept the city in awe by stopping, when it suited their purpose, the supplies of provisions. Captain Forrest, who once more visited Achin in 1784 and was treated with much distinction (see his Voyage to the Mergui Archipelago page 51), says he appeared to be twenty-five years of age; but this was a misconception. Mr. Kenneth Mackenzie, who saw him in 1782, judged him to have been at that time no more than nineteen or twenty, which corresponds with Mr. Braham's statement.) Little is known of the transactions of his reign, but that little is in favour of his personal character. The Annals (not always unexceptionable evidence when speaking of the living monarch) describe him as being endowed with every princely virtue, exercising the functions of government with vigour and rectitude, of undaunted courage, attentive to the protection of the ministers of religion, munificent to the descendants of the prophet (seiyid, but commonly pronounced sidi) and to men of learning, prompt at all times to administer justice, and consequently revered and beloved by his people. I have not been enabled to ascertain the year in which he died. 1791. It appears by a Malayan letter from Achin that in 1791 the peace of the capital was much disturbed, and the state of the government as well as of private property (which induced the writer to reship his goods) precarious. 1805. In 1805 his son, then aged twenty-one, was on the throne, and had a contention with his paternal uncle, and at the same time his father-in-law, named Tuanku Raja, by whom he had been compelled to fly (but only for a short time) to Pidir, the usual asylum of the Achinese monarchs. Their quarrel appears to have been rather of a family than of a political nature, and to have proceeded from the irregular conduct of the queen-mother. The low state of this young king's finances, impoverished by a fruitless struggle to enforce, by means of an expensive marine establishment, his right to an exclusive trade, had induced him to make proposals, for mutual accommodation, to the English government of Pulo Pinang.* (*Footnote. Since the foregoing was printed the following information respecting the manners of the Batta people, obtained by Mr. Charles Holloway from Mr. W.H. Hayes, has reached my hands. "In the month of July 1805 an expedition consisting of Sepoys, Malays, and Battas was sent from Tapanuli against a chief named Punei Manungum, residing at Nega­timbul, about thirty miles inland from Old Tapanuli, in consequence of his having attacked a kampong under the protection of the company, murdered several of the inhabitants, and carried others into captivity. After a siege of three days, terms of accommodation being proposed, a cessation of hostilities took place, when the people of each party having laid aside their arms intermixed with the utmost confidence, and conversed together as if in a state of perfect amity. The terms however not proving satisfactory, each again retired to his arms and renewed the contest with their former inveteracy. On the second day the place was evacuated, and upon our people entering it Mr. Hayes found the bodies of one man and two women, whom the enemy had put to death before their departure (being the last remaining of sixteen prisoners whom they had originally carried off), and from whose legs large pieces had been cut out, evidently for the purpose of being eaten. During the progress of this expedition a small party had been sent to hold in check the chiefs of Labusukum and Singapollum (inland of Sibogah), who were confederates of Punei Manungum. These however proved stronger than was expected, and, making a sally from their kampongs, attacked the sergeant's party and killed a sepoy, whom he was obliged to abandon. Mr. Hayes, on his way from Negatimbul, was ordered to march to the support of the retreating party; but these having taken a different route he remained ignorant of the particulars of their loss. The village of Singapollam being immediately carried by storm, and the enemy retreating by one gate, as our people entered at the opposite, the accoutrements of the sepoy who had been killed the day before were seen hanging as trophies in the front of the houses, and in the town hall, Mr. Hayes saw the head entirely scalped, and one of the fingers fixed upon a fork or skewer, still warm from the fire. On proceeding to the village of Labusucom, situated little more than two hundred yards from the former, he found a large plantain leaf full of human flesh, mixed with lime-juice and chili-pepper, from which he inferred that they had been surprised in the very act of feasting on the sepoy, whose body had been divided between the two kampongs. Upon differences being settled with the chiefs they acknowledged with perfect sangfroid that such had been the case, saying at the same time, "you know it is our custom; why should we conceal it?") CHAPTER 23. BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE ISLANDS LYING OFF THE WESTERN COAST OF SUMATRA. ISLANDS ADJACENT TO SUMATRA. The chain of islands which extends itself in a line nearly parallel to the western coast, at the distance from it of little more than a degree, being immediately connected with the principal subject of this work, and being themselves inhabited by a race or races of people apparently from the same original stock as those of the interior of Sumatra, whose genuineness of character has been preserved to a remarkable degree (whilst the islands on the eastern side are uniformly peopled with Malays), I have thought it expedient to add such authentic information respecting them as I have been enabled to obtain; and this I feel to be the more necessary from observing in the maps to which I have had recourse so much error and confusion in applying the names that the identity and even the existence of some of them have been considered as doubtful. ENGANO. Of these islands the most southern is Engano, which is still but very imperfectly known, all attempts to open a friendly communication with the natives having hitherto proved fruitless; and in truth they have had but too much reason to consider strangers attempting to land on their coast as piratical enemies. In the voyage of J.J. Saar, published in 1662, we have an account of an expedition fitted out from Batavia in 1645 for the purpose of examining this island, which terminated in entrapping and carrying off with them sixty or seventy of the inhabitants, male and female. The former died soon after their arrival, refusing to eat any other food than coconuts, but the women, who were distributed amongst the principal families of Batavia, proved extremely tractable and docile, and acquired the language of the place. It is not stated, nor does it appear from any subsequent publication, that the opportunity was taken of forming a collection of their words. From that period Engano had only been incidentally noticed, until in March 1771 Mr. Richard Wyatt, then governor, and the council of Fort Marlborough, sent Mr. Charles Miller in a vessel belonging to the Company to explore the productions of this island. On approaching it he observed large plantations of coconut-trees, with several spots of ground cleared for cultivation on the hills, and at night many fires on the beach. Landing was found to be in most parts extremely difficult on account of the surf. Many of the natives were seen armed with lances and squatting down amongst the coral rocks, as if to conceal their numbers. Upon rowing into a bay with the ship's boat it was pursued by ten canoes full of men and obliged to return. Mr. Whalfeldt, the surveyor, and the second mate proceeded to make a survey of the bay and endeavour to speak with the natives. They were furnished with articles for presents, and, upon seeing a canoe on the beach of a small island, and several people fishing on the rocks, they rowed to the island and sent two caffrees on shore with some cloth, but the natives would not come near them. The mate then landed and advanced towards them, when they immediately came to him. He distributed some presents among them, and they in return gave him some fish. Several canoes came off to the ship with coconuts, sugar-cane, toddy, and a species of yam. The crew of one of them took an opportunity of unshipping and carrying away the boat's rudder, and upon a musket being fired over their heads many of them leaped into the sea. Mr. Miller describes these people as being taller and fairer than the Malays, their hair black, which the men cut short, and the women wear long, and neatly turned up. The former go entirely naked except that they sometimes throw a piece of bark of tree, or plantain-leaf over their shoulders to protect them from the heat of the sun. The latter also are naked except a small slip of plantain-leaf round the waist; and some had on their heads fresh leaves made up nearly in the shape of a bonnet, with necklaces of small pieces of shell, and a shell hanging by a string, to be used as a comb. The ears of both men and women have large holes made in them, an inch or two in diameter, into which they put a ring made of coconut-shell or a roll of leaves. They do not chew betel. Their language was not understood by any person on board, although there were people from most parts adjacent to the coast. Their canoes are very neat, formed of two thin planks sewn together, sharp-pointed at each end and provided with outriggers. In general they contain six or seven men. They always carry lances, not only as offensive weapons, but for striking fish. These are about seven feet in length, formed of ni­bong and other hard woods; some of them tipped with pieces of bamboo made very sharp, and the concave part filled with fish-bones (and shark's teeth), others armed with pieces of bone made sharp and notched, and others pointed with bits of iron and copper sharpened. They seemed not to be unaccustomed to the sight of vessels. (Ships bound from the ports of India to the straits of Sunda, as well as those from Europe, when late in the season, frequently make the land of Engano, and many must doubtless be wrecked on its coast). Attempts were made to find a river or fresh water, but without success, nor even a good place to land. Two of the people from the ship having pushed in among the rocks and landed the natives soon came to them, snatched their handkerchiefs off their heads and ran away with them, but dropped them on being pursued. Soon afterwards they sounded a conch-shell, which brought numbers of them down to the beach. The bay appeared to be well sheltered and to afford good anchorage ground. The soil of the country for the most part a red clay. The productions Mr. Miller thought the same as are commonly found on the coast of Sumatra; but circumstances did not admit of his penetrating into the country, which, contrary to expectation, was found to be so full of inhabitants. In consequence of the loss of anchors and cables it was judged necessary that the vessel should return to Fort Marlborough. Having taken in the necessary supplies, the island was revisited. Finding no landing-place, the boat was run upon the coral rocks. Signs were made to the natives, who had collected in considerable numbers, and upon seeing our people land had retreated towards some houses, to stop, but to no purpose until Mr. Miller proceeded towards them unaccompanied, when they approached in great numbers and accepted of knives, pieces of cloth, etc. Observing a spot of cultivated ground surrounded by a sort of fence he went to it, followed by several of the natives who made signs to deter him, and as soon as he was out of sight of his own people began to handle his clothes and attempt to pull them off, when he returned to the beach. Their houses stand singly in their plantations, are circular, about eight feet in diameter, raised about six from the ground on slender iron­wood sticks, floored with planks, and the roof, which is thatched with long grass, rises from the floor in a conical shape. No rice was seen among them, nor did they appear to know the use of it when shown to them; nor were cattle nor fowls of any kind observed about their houses. Having anchored off a low point of marshy land in the northern part of the bay, where the natives seemed to be more accustomed to intercourse with strangers, the party landed in hopes of finding a path to some houses about two miles inland. Upon observing signs made to them by some people on the coral reef Mr. Miller and Mr. Whalfeldt went towards them in the sampan, when some among them took an opportunity of stealing the latter's hanger and running away with it; upon which they were immediately fired at by some of the party, and notwithstanding Mr. Miller's endeavours to prevent them both the officer and men continued to fire upon and pursue the natives through the morass, but without being able to overtake them. Meeting however with some houses they set fire to them, and brought off two women and a boy whom the caffrees had seized. The officers on board the vessel, alarmed at the firing and seeing Mr. Miller alone in the sampan, whilst several canoes full of people were rowing towards him, sent the pinnace with some sepoys to his assistance. During the night conch-shells were heard to sound almost all over the bay, and in the morning several large parties were observed on different parts of the beach. All further communication with the inhabitants being interrupted by this imprudent quarrel, and the purposes of the expedition thereby frustrated, it was not thought advisable to remain any longer at Engano, and Mr. Miller, after visiting some parts of the southern coast of Sumatra, returned to Fort Marlborough. PULO MEGA. The next island to the north-west of Engano, but at a considerable distance, is called by the Malays Pulo Mega (cloud-island), and by Europeans Triste, or isle de Recif. It is small and uninhabited, and like many others in these seas is nearly surrounded by a coral reef with a lagoon in the centre. Coconut-trees grow in vast numbers in the sand near the sea-shore, whose fruit serves for food to rats and squirrels, the only quadrupeds found there. On the borders of the lagoon is a little vegetable mould, just above the level of high water, where grow some species of timber-trees. PULO SANDING. The name of Pulo Sanding or Sandiang belongs to two small islands situated near the south-eastern extremity of the Nassau or Pagi islands, in which group they are sometimes included. Of these the southernmost is distinguished in the Dutch charts by the term of Laag or low, and the other by that of Bergen or hilly. They are both uninhabited, and the only productions worth notice is the long nutmeg, which grows wild on them, and some good timber, particularly of the kind known by the name of marbau (Metrosideros amboinensis). An idea was entertained of making a settlement on one of them, and in 1769 an officer with a few men were stationed there for some months, during which period the rains were incessant. The scheme was afterwards abandoned as unlikely to answer any useful purpose. NASSAUS OR PULO PAGI. The two islands separated by a narrow strait, to which the Dutch navigators have given the name of the Nassaus, are called by the Malays Pulo Pagi or Pagei, and by us commonly the Poggies. The race of people by whom these as well as some other islands to the northward of them are inhabited having the appellation of orang mantawei, this has been confounded with the proper names of the islands, and, being applied sometimes to one and sometimes to another, has occasioned much confusion and uncertainty. The earliest accounts we have of them are the reports of Mr. Randolph Marriot in 1749, and of Mr. John Saul in 1750 and 1751, with Captain Thomas Forrest's observations in 1757, preserved in Mr. Dalrymple's Historical Relation of the several Expeditions from Fort Marlborough to the Islands adjacent to the West-coast of Sumatra; but by much the most satisfactory information is contained in a paper communicated by Mr. John Crisp to the Asiatic Society of Bengal, in the sixth volume of whose Transactions it is published, and from these documents I shall extract such particulars as may best serve to convey a knowledge of the country and the people. Mr. Crisp sailed from Fort Marlborough on the 12th of August 1792 in a vessel navigated at his own expense, and with no other view than that of gratifying a liberal curiosity. On the 14th he anchored in the straits of See Cockup (Si Kakap), which divide the Northern from the Southern Pagi. These straits are about two miles in length and a quarter of a mile over, and make safe riding for ships of any size, which lie perfectly secure from every wind, the water being literally as smooth as in a pond. The high land of Sumatra (inland of Moco-moco and Ipu) was plainly to be distinguished from thence. In the passage are scattered several small islands, each of which consists of one immense rock, and which may have been originally connected with the main island. The face of the country is rough and irregular, consisting of high hills of sudden and steep ascent, and covered with trees to their summits, among which the species called bintangur or puhn, fit for the largest masts, abounds. The sago-tree grows in plenty, and constitutes the chief article of food to the inhabitants, who do not cultivate rice. The use of betel is unknown to them. Coconut-trees, bamboos, and the common fruits of Sumatra are found here. The woods are impervious to man: the species of wild animals that inhabit them but few; the large red deer, hogs, and several kinds of monkey, but neither buffaloes nor goats; nor are they infested with tigers or other beasts of prey; They have the common domestic fowl, but pork and fish are the favourite animal food of the natives. When the vessel had been two days at anchor they began to come down from their villages in their canoes, bringing fruit of various kinds, and on invitation they readily came on board without showing signs of apprehension or embarrassment. On presenting to them plates of boiled rice they would not touch it until it had been previously tasted by one of the ship's company. They behaved whilst on board with much decorum, showed a strong degree of curiosity, but not the least disposition for pilfering. They appeared to live in great friendship and harmony with each other, and voluntarily divided amongst their companions what was given to them. Their stature seldom exceeds five feet and a half. Their colour is like that of the Malays, a light brown or copper-colour. Some canoes came alongside the vessel with only women in them, and upon being encouraged by the men several ventured on board. When on the water they use a temporary dress to shield them from the heat of the sun, made of the leaves of the plantain, of which they form a sort of conical cap (the same was observed of the women of Engano), and there is also a broad piece of the leaf fastened round the body over their breasts, and another round their waist. This leaf readily splits, and has the appearance of a coarse fringe. When in their villages the women, like the men, wear only a small piece of coarse cloth, made of the bark of a tree, round their middle. Beads and other ornaments are worn about the neck. Although coconuts are in such plenty they have not the use of oil, and their hair, which is black, and naturally long, is, for want of it and the use of combs, in general matted and full of vermin. They have a method of filing or grinding their teeth to a point, like the people of Sumatra. The number of inhabitants of the two islands is supposed not to exceed 1400 persons. They are divided into small tribes, each occupying a small river and living in one village. On the southern island are five of these villages, and on the northern seven, of which Kakap is accounted the chief, although Labu-labu is supposed to contain the greater number of people. Their houses are built of bamboos and raised on posts; the under part is occupied by poultry and hogs, and, as may be supposed, much filth is collected there. Their arms consist of a bow and arrows. The former is made of the nibong-tree, and the string of the entrails of some animal. The arrows are of small bamboo, headed with brass or with a piece of hard wood cut to a point. With these they kill deer, which are roused by dogs of a mongrel breed, and also monkeys, whose flesh they eat. Some among them wear krises. It was said that the different tribes of orang mantawei who inhabit these islands never make war upon each other, but with people of islands to the northward they are occasionally in a state of hostility. The measurement of one of their war-canoes, preserved with great care under a shed, was twenty-five feet in the length of the floor, the prow projecting twenty-two, and the stern eighteen, making the whole length sixty-five feet. The greatest breadth was five feet, and the depth three feet eight inches. For navigating in their rivers and the straits of Si Kakap, where the sea is as smooth as glass, they employ canoes, formed with great neatness of a single tree, and the women and young children are extremely expert in the management of the paddle. They are strangers to the use of coin of any kind, and have little knowledge of metals. The iron bill or chopping-knife, called parang, is in much esteem among them, it serves as a standard for the value of other commodities, such as articles of provision. The religion of these people, if it deserves the name, resembles much what has been described of the Battas; but their mode of disposing of their dead is different, and analogous rather to the practice of the South­sea islanders, the corpse, being deposited on a sort of stage in a place appropriated for the purpose, and with a few leaves strewed over it, is left to decay. Inheritance is by male descent; the house or plantation, the weapons and tools of the father, become the property of the sons. Their chiefs are but little distinguished from the rest of the community by authority or possessions, their pre-eminence being chiefly displayed at public entertainments, of which they do the honours. They have not even judicial powers, all disputes being settled, and crimes adjudged, by a meeting of the whole village. Murder is punishable by retaliation, for which purpose the offender is delivered over to the relations of the deceased, who may put him to death; but the crime is rare. Theft, when to a considerable amount, is also capital. In cases of adultery the injured husband has a right to seize the effects of the paramour, and sometimes punishes his wife by cutting off her hair. When the husband offends the wife has a right to quit him and to return to her parents' house. Simple fornication between unmarried persons is neither considered as a crime nor a disgrace. The state of slavery is unknown among these people, and they do not practise circumcision. The custom of tattooing, or imprinting figures on the skin, is general among the inhabitants of this group of islands. They call it in their language teetee or titi. They begin to form these marks on boys at seven years of age, and fill them up as they advance in years. Mr. Crisp thinks they were originally intended as marks of military distinction. The women have a star imprinted on each shoulder, and generally some small marks on the backs of their hands. These punctures are made with an instrument consisting of a brass wire fixed perpendicularly into a piece of stick about eight inches in length. The pigment made use of is the smoke collected from dammar, mixed with water (or, according to another account, with the juice of the sugar-cane). The operator takes a stalk of dried grass, or a fine piece of stick, and, dipping the end in the pigment, traces on the skin the outline of the figure, and then, dipping the brass point in the same preparation, with very quick and light strokes of a long, small stick, drives it into the skin, whereby an indelible mark is produced. The pattern when completed is in all the individuals nearly the same. In the year 1783 the son of a raja of one of the Pagi islands came over to Sumatra on a visit of curiosity, and, being an intelligent man, much information was obtained from him. He could give some account of almost every island that lies off the coast, and when a doubt arose about their position he ascertained it by taking the rind of a pumplenose or shaddock, and, breaking it into bits of different sizes, disposing them on the floor in such a manner as to convey a clear idea of the relative situation. He spoke of Engano (by what name is not mentioned) and said that their boats were sometimes driven to that island, on which occasions they generally lost a part, if not the whole, of their crews, from the savage disposition of the natives. He appeared to be acquainted with several of the constellations, and gave names for the Pleiades, Scorpion, Great Bear, and Orion's Belt. He understood the distinction between the fixed and wandering stars, and particularly noticed Venus, which he named usutat-si-geb-geb or planet of the evening. To Sumatra he gave the appellation of Seraihu. As to religion he said the rajas alone prayed and sacrificed hogs and fowls. They addressed themselves in the first place to the Power above the sky; next to those in the moon, who are male and female; and lastly, to that evil being whose residence is beneath the earth, and is the cause of earthquakes. A drawing of this man, representing accurately the figures in which his body and limbs were tattooed, was made by Colonel Trapaud, and obligingly given to me. He not only stood patiently during the performance, but seemed much pleased with the execution, and proposed that the Colonel should accompany him to his country to have an opportunity of making a likeness of his father. To our collectors of rare prints it is well known that there exists an engraving of a man of this description by the title of The Painted Prince, brought to England by Captain Dampier from one of the islands of the eastern sea in the year 1691, and of whom a particular account is given in his Voyage. He said that the inhabitants of the Pagi islands derived their origin from the orang mantawei of the island called Si Biru. SI PORAH OR GOOD FORTUNE. North-westward of the Pagi islands, and at no great distance, lies that of Si Porah, commonly denominated Good Fortune Island, inhabited by the same race as the former, and with the same manners and language. The principal towns or villages are named Si Porah, containing, when visited by Mr. John Saul in 1750, three hundred inhabitants, Si Labah three hundred (several of whom were originally from the neighbouring island of Nias), Si Bagau two hundred, and Si Uban a smaller number; and when Captain Forrest made his inquiries in 1757 there was not any material variation. Since that period, though the island has been occasionally visited, it does not appear that any report has been preserved of the state of the population. The country is described as being entirely covered with wood. The highest land is in the vicinity of Si Labah. SI BIRU. The next island in the same direction is named Si Biru, which, although of considerable size, being larger than Si Porah, has commonly been omitted in our charts, or denoted to be uncertain. It is inhabited by the Mantawei race, and the natives both of Si Porah and the Pagi Islands consider it as their parent country, but notwithstanding this connexion they are generally in a state of hostility, and in 1783 no intercourse subsisted between them. The inhabitants are distinguished only by some small variety of the patterns in which their skins are tattooed, those of Si Biru having them narrower on the breast and broader on the shoulders. The island itself is rendered conspicuous by a volcano­mountain. PULO BATU. Next to this is Pulo Batu, situated immediately to the southward of the equinoctial line, and, in consequence of an original mistake in Valentyn's erroneous chart, published in 1726, usually called by navigators Mintaon, being a corruption of the word Mantawei, which, as already explained, is appropriated to a race inhabiting the islands of Si Biru, Si Porah, and Pagi. Batu, on the contrary, is chiefly peopled by a colony from Nias. These pay a yearly tax to the raja of Buluaro, a small kampong in the interior part of the island, belonging to a race different from both, and whose number it is said amounts only to one hundred, which it is not allowed to exceed, so many children being reared as may replace the deaths. They are reported to bear a resemblance to the people of Makasar or Bugis, and may have been adventurers from that quarter. The influence of their raja over the Nias inhabitants, who exceed his immediate subjects in the proportion of twenty to one, is founded on the superstitious belief that the water of the island will become salt when they neglect to pay the tax. He in his turn, being in danger from the power of the Malay traders who resort thither from Padang and are not affected by the same superstition, is constrained to pay them to the amount of sixteen ounces of gold as an annual tribute. The food of the people, as in the other islands, is chiefly sago, and their exports coconuts, oil in considerable quantities, and swala or sea­slugs. No rice is planted there, nor, if we may trust to the Malayan accounts, suffered to be imported. Upon the same authority also we are told that the island derives its name of Batu from a large rock resembling the hull of a vessel, which tradition states to be a petrifaction of that in which the Buluaro people arrived. The same fanciful story of a petrified boat is prevalent in the Serampei country of Sumatra. From Natal Hill Pulo Batu is visible. Like the islands already described it is entirely covered with wood. PULO KAPINI. Between Pulo Batu and the coast of Sumatra, but much nearer to the latter, is a small uninhabited island, called Pulo Kapini (iron-wood island), but to which our charts (copying from Valentyn) commonly give the name of Batu, whilst to Batu itself, as above described, is assigned the name of Mintaon. In confirmation of the distinctions here laid down it will be thought sufficient to observe that, when the Company's packet, the Greyhound, lay at what was called Lant's Bay in Mintaon, an officer came to our settlement of Natal (of which Mr. John Marsden at that time was chief) in a Batu oil-boat; and that a large trade for oil is carried on from Padang and other places with the island of Batu, whilst that of Kapini is known to be without inhabitants, and could not supply the article. PULO NIAS. The most productive and important, if not the largest of this chain of islands, is Pulo Nias. Its inhabitants are very numerous, and of a race distinct not only from those on the main (for such we must relatively consider Sumatra), but also from the people of all the islands to the southward, with the exception of the last-mentioned. Their complexions, especially the women, are lighter than those of the Malays; they are smaller in their persons and shorter in stature; their mouths are broad, noses very flat, and their ears are pierced and distended in so extraordinary a manner as nearly, in many instances, to touch the shoulders, particularly when the flap has, by excessive distension or by accident, been rent asunder; but these pendulous excrescences are commonly trimmed and reduced to the ordinary size when they are brought away from their own country. Preposterous however as this custom may appear, it is not confined to the Nias people. Some of the women of the inland parts of Sumatra, in the vicinity of the equinoctial line (especially those of the Rau tribes) increase the perforation of their ears until they admit ornaments of two or three inches diameter. There is no circumstance by which the natives of this island are more obviously distinguished than the prevalence of a leprous scurf with which the skins of a great proportion of both sexes are affected; in some cases covering the whole of the body and limbs, and in others resembling rather the effect of the tetter or ringworm, running like that partial complaint in waving lines and concentric curves. It is seldom if ever radically cured, although by external applications (especially in the slighter cases) its symptoms are moderated, and a temporary smoothness given to the skin; but it does not seem in any stage of the disease to have a tendency to shorten life, or to be inconsistent with perfect health in other respects, nor is there reason to suppose it infectious; and it is remarkable that the inhabitants of Pulo Batu, who are evidently of the same race, are exempt from this cutaneous malady. The principal food of the common people is the sweet-potato, but much pork is also eaten by those who can afford it, and the chiefs make a practice of ornamenting their houses with the jaws of the hogs, as well as the skulls of the enemies whom they slay. The cultivation of rice has become extensive in modern times, but rather as an article of traffic than of home consumption. These people are remarkable for their docility and expertness in handicraft work, and become excellent house-carpenters and joiners, and as an instance of their skill in the arts they practise that of letting blood by cupping, in a mode nearly similar to ours. Among the Sumatrans blood is never drawn with so salutary an intent. They are industrious and frugal, temperate and regular in their habits, but at the same time avaricious, sullen, obstinate, vindictive, and sanguinary. Although much employed as domestic slaves (particularly by the Dutch) they are always esteemed dangerous in that capacity, a defect in their character which philosophers will not hesitate to excuse in an independent people torn by violence from their country and connexions. They frequently kill themselves when disgusted with their situation or unhappy in their families, and often their wives at the same time, who appeared, from the circumstances under which they were found, to have been consenting to the desperate act. They were both dressed in their best apparel (the remainder being previously destroyed), and the female, in more than one instance that came under notice, had struggled so little as not to discompose her hair or remove her head from the pillow. It is said that in their own country they expose their children by suspending them in a bag from a tree, when they despair of being able to bring them up. The mode seems to be adopted with the view of preserving them from animals of prey, and giving them a chance of being saved by persons in more easy circumstances. The island is divided into about fifty small districts, under chiefs or rajas who are independent of, and at perpetual variance with, each other; the ultimate object of their wars being to make prisoners, whom they sell for slaves, as well as all others not immediately connected with them, whom they can seize by stratagem. These violences are doubtless encouraged by the resort of native traders from Padang, Natal, and Achin to purchase cargoes of slaves, who are also accused of augmenting the profits of their voyage by occasionally surprising and carrying off whole families. The number annually exported is reckoned at four hundred and fifty to Natal, and one hundred and fifty to the northern ports (where they are said to be employed by the Achinese in the gold-mines), exclusive of those which go to Padang for the supply of Batavia, where the females are highly valued and taught music and various accomplishments. In catching these unfortunate victims of avarice it is supposed that not fewer than two hundred are killed; and if the aggregate be computed at one thousand it is a prodigious number to be supplied from the population of so small an island. Beside the article of slaves there is a considerable export of padi and rice, the cultivation of which is chiefly carried on at a distance from the sea-coasts, whither the natives retire to be secure from piratical depredations, bringing down the produce to the harbours (of which there are several good ones), to barter with the traders for iron, steel, beads, tobacco, and the coarser kinds of Madras and Surat piece-goods. Numbers of hogs are reared, and some parts of the main, especially Barus, are supplied from hence with yams, beans, and poultry. Some of the rajas are supposed to have amassed a sum equal to ten or twenty thousand dollars, which is kept in ingots of gold and silver, much of the latter consisting of small Dutch money (not the purest coin) melted down; and of these they make an ostentatious display at weddings and other festivals. The language scarcely differs more from the Batta and the Lampong than these do from each other, and all evidently belong to the same stock. The pronunciation is very guttural, and either from habit or peculiar conformation of organs these people cannot articulate the letter p, but in Malayan words, where the sound occurs, pronounce it as f (saying for example Fulo Finang instead of Pulo Pinang), whilst on the contrary the Malays never make use of the f, and pronounce as pikir the Arabic word fikir. Indeed the Arabians themselves appear to have the same organic defect as the people of Nias, and it may likewise be observed in the languages of some of the South-sea islands. PULO NAKO-NAKO. On the western side of Nias and very near to it is a cluster of small islands called Pulo Nako-nako, whose inhabitants (as well as others who shall presently be noticed) are of a race termed Maros or orang maruwi, distinct from those of the former, but equally fair-complexioned. Large quantities of coconut-oil are prepared here and exported chiefly to Padang, the natives having had a quarrel with the Natal traders. The islands are governed by a single raja, who monopolizes the produce, his subjects dealing only with him, and he with the praws or country vessels who are regularly furnished with cargoes in the order of their arrival, and never dispatched out of turn. PULO BABI. Pulo Babi or Hog island, called by the natives Si Malu, lies north­westward from Nias, and, like Nako-Nako, is inhabited by the Maruwi race. Buffaloes (and hogs, we may presume) are met with here in great plenty and sold cheap. PULO BANIAK. The name of Pulo Baniak belongs to a cluster of islands (as the terms imply) situated to the eastward, or in-shore of Pulo Babi, and not far from the entrance of Singkel River. It is however most commonly applied to one of them which is considerably larger than the others. It does not appear to furnish any vegetable produce as an article of trade, and the returns from thence are chiefly sea-slug and the edible birds-nest. The inhabitants of these islands also are Maruwis, and, as well as the others of the same race, are now Mahometans. Their language, although considered by the natives of these parts as distinct and peculiar (which will naturally be the case where people do not understand each other's conversation), has much radical affinity to the Batta and Nias, and less to the Pagi; but all belong to the same class, and may be regarded as dialects of a general language prevailing amongst the original inhabitants of this eastern archipelago, as far at least as the Moluccas and Philippines. THE END. INDEX. Achin or Acheh: kingdom of, its boundaries. Situation, buildings, and appearance of the capital. Air esteemed healthy. Inhabitants described. Present state of commerce. Productions of soil, manufactures, navigation. Coin, government. Officers of state, ceremonies. Local division. Revenues, duties. Administration of justice and punishments. History of. State of the kingdom at the time when Malacca fell into the hands of the Portuguese. Circumstances which placed Ibrahim, a slave of the king of Pidir, on the throne. Rises to considerable importance during the reign of Mansur-shah. King of, receives a letter from Queen Elizabeth. Letter from King James the First. Commencement of female reigns. Their termination. Subsequent events. Achin Head: situation of. Address: custom of, in the third instead of the second person. Adultery: laws respecting. Agriculture. Air: temperature of. Ala-eddin: or Ula-eddin Shah, king of Achin, lays repeated siege to Malacca. His death. Alboquerque (Affonso d'): touches at Pidir and Pase in his voyage to Malacca. Alligators: Superstitious dread of. Amomum: different species of. Amusements. Anak-sungei: kingdom of. Ancestors: veneration for burying-places of. Animals: account of. Annals: Malayan, of the kingdom of Achin. Ants: variety and abundance of. White-ant. Arabian: travellers, mention Sumatra by the name of Ramni. Arabic: character, with modifications, used by the Malays. Arithmetic. Arsenic: yellow. Arts: and manufactures. Aru, kingdom of. Astronomy. Atap: covering for roofs of houses. Babi: island of. Bamboo: principal material for building. Account of the. Bangka: island of, its tin-mines. Baniak: islands of. Banyan: tree or jawi-jawi, its peculiarities. Bantam: city of. Expulsion of English from thence. Barbosa, (Odoardus): his account of Sumatra. Barthema (Ludovico): his visit to the island. Barus: a place chiefly remarkable for having given its name to the most valuable sort of camphor. Bats: various species of. Batta: country of. Its divisions. Mr. Miller's journey into it. Governments. Authority of the rajas. Succession. Persons, dress, and weapons of the inhabitants. Warfare. Fortified villages or kampongs. Trade, mode of holding fairs. Food. Buildings, domestic manners. Horse-racing. Books. Observations on their mode of writing. Religion. Mythology. Oaths. Funeral ceremonies. Crimes and punishments. Practice of eating human flesh. Motives for this custom. Mode of proceeding. Doubts obviated. Testimonies. Death of Mr. Nairne in the Batta country. Originality of manners preserved amongst this people, and its probable causes. Batu (Pulo). Batu Bara: river. Beards: practice of eradicating. Beasts. Beaulieu: commander of a French squadron at Achin. Beeswax. Bencoolen: river and town. Interior country visited. Account of first English establishment at. Benzoin: or benjamin, mode of procuring. Nature of the trade. Oil distilled from. Betel: practice of chewing. Preparation of. Betel-nut: or areca, see Pinang. Bintang: island of. Birds: Species which form the edible nests. Modes of catching. Birds-nest: edible, account of. Biru: island of. Blachang: species of caviar, mode of preparing. Blades: of krises. mode of damasking. Boulton (Mr. Matthew). Bread-fruit: or sukun. Breezes: land and sea. Braham (Mr. Philip). Broff (Mr. Robert). Buffalo: or karbau, description of the. Killed at festivals. Building: modes of, described. Bukit Lintang: a high range of hills inland of Moco-moco. Bukit Pandang: a high mountain inland of Ipu. Burying-places: ancient, veneration for. Chameleon: description of. Campbell (Mr. Charles). Camphor: or kapur barus, a valuable drug. Description of the tree. Mode of procuring it. Its price. Camphor-oil. Japan camphor. Cannibalism. Cannon: use of, previously to Portuguese discoveries. Carpenters' work. Carving. Cassia: description of the tree. Found in the Serampei, Musi, and Batta countries. Cattle: Laws respecting. Causes: or suits, mode of deciding. Caut-chouc: or elastic gum. Cements. Champaka: flower. Character: difference in respect of it, between the Malays and other Sumatrans. Characters: of Rejang, Batta, and Lampong languages. Charms. Chastity. Chess: game of, Malayan terms. Child-bearing. Children: treatment of. Chinese: colonists. Circumcision. Cloth: manufacture of. Clothing: materials of. Coal. Cock-fighting: strong propensity to this sport. Matches. Coconut-tree: an important object of cultivation. Does not bear fruit in the hill country. Codes: of laws. Remarks on. Coins: current in Sumatra. Commerce. Company (English East India): its influence. Permission given to it to settle a factory at Achin. Compass: irregularity of, noticed. Compensation: for murder, termed bangun. Complexion: fairness of, comparatively with other Indians. Darkness of, not dependent on climate. Confinement: modes of. Contracts: made with the chiefs of the country, for obliging their dependants to plant pepper. Conversion: to religion of Mahomet, period of. Cookery. Copper. Rich mine of. Coral rock. Corallines: collection of, in the possession of Mr. John Griffiths. Cosmetic: used, and mode of preparing it. Cotton: two species of, cultivated. Courtship. Crisp (Mr. John). Cultivation: of rice. Curry: dish or mode of cookery so called. Custard-apple. Cycas circinalis: (a palm-fern confounded with the sago-tree) described. Dalrymple (Mr. Alexander). Dammar: a species of resin or turpentine. Dancing: amusement of. Dare (Lieutenant Hastings). Journal of his expedition to the Serampei and Sungei-tenang countries. Datu: title of. Debts: and debtors, laws respecting. Deer: diminutive species of. Deity: name for the, borrowed by the Rejangs from the Malays. Dice. Diseases: modes of curing. Diversion: of tossing a ball. Divorces: laws respecting. Dragons'-blood: a drug, how procured. Dress: description of man's and woman's. Dupati: nature of title. Durian: fruit. Dusuns: or villages, description of. Duyong: or sea-cow. Dye-stuffs. Ears: ceremony of boring. Earthenware. Earth-oil. Earthquakes. Eating: mode of. Eclipses: notion respecting. Edrisi: his account of Sumatra by the name of Al-Rami. Elastic gum. Elephants. Elizabeth: Queen, addresses a letter to the king of Achin. Elopements: laws respecting. Emblematic presents. Engano: island of. English: their first visit to Sumatra. Settle a factory at Achin. Europeans: influence of. Evidence: rules of, and mode of giving. Expedition: to Serampei and Sungei-tenang countries. Fairs. Fencing. Fertility: of soil. Festivals. Feud: account of a remarkable one. Fevers: how treated by the natives. Filigree: manufacture of. Fire: modes of kindling. Necessary for warmth among the hills. Firearms: manufactured in Menangkabau. Firefly. Fish: Ikan layer, a remarkable species. Various kinds enumerated. Fishing: mode of. Fish-roes: preserved by salting. An article of trade. Flowers: description of. Foersch, (Mr.): his account of the poison-tree. Fogs: dense among the hills. Food. Fortification: mode of. Fort Marlborough: the chief English settlement on the coast of Sumatra. Establishment of. Reduced by Act of Parliament. French: settlement of Tappanuli taken by the, in the year 1760, and again in 1809, attended with circumstances of atrocity. Sent a fleet to Achin, under General Beaulieu. Fruits: description of. Funerals: ceremonies observed at. Furniture: of houses. Gambir: mode of preparing it for eating with betel. Gaming: laws respecting. Propensity for, and modes of. Geography: limited ideas of. Goitres: natives of the hills subject to. Disease not imputable to snow-water. In the Serampei country. Gold: island celebrated for its production of. Chiefly found in the Menangkabau country. Distinctions of. Mode of working the mines. Estimation of quantity procured. Price. Mode of cleansing. Weights. Government: Malayan. Grammar. Graves: form of. Griffiths, (Mr. John). Guana: or iguana, animal of the lizard kind. Guava: fruit. Gum-lac. Gunpowder: manufacture of. Hair: modes of dressing the. Heat: degree of. Hemp: or ganja, its inebriating qualities. Henna: of the Arabians used for tingeing the nails. Herbs: and shrubs used medicinally. Hills: inhabitants of, subject to goitres. Hippopotamus. History: of Malayan kings. Of Achinese. Hollanders: their first visit to Sumatra. Holloway, (Mr. Giles). Horse-racing: practised by the Battas. Horses: small breed of. Occasionally used in war. Eaten as food by the Battas. Hot springs. Houses: description of. Human flesh: eaten by the Battas. Iang de per-tuan: title of sovereignty. Ibrahim (otherwise, Saleh-eddin shah): king of Achin, his origin. Enmity to the Portuguese. Transactions of his reign, and death. Iju: a peculiar vegetable substance used for cordage. Ilhas d'Ouro: attempts of the Portuguese to discover them. Import-trade. Incest. Indalas: one of the Malayan names of Sumatra. Indigo: Broad-leafed or tarum akar. Indragiri: river of. Has its source in a lake of the Menangkabau country. Indrapura: kingdom of. Inhabitants: general distinctions of. Inheritance: rules of. Ink: manufacture of. Insanity. Insects: Various kinds of, enumerated. Instruments: musical. Interest: of money. Investiture. Ipu: river of. Sungei-ipu (a different river). Iron: Ore smelted. Manufactures of. Mines. Iskander Muda (Paduka Sri): king of Achin, receives a letter from king James the first, by Captain Best, and gives permission for establishing an English factory. Conquers Johor. Attacks Malacca with a great fleet. Receives an embassy from France. Again attacks Malacca. His death. Wealth and power. Islands: near the western coast, account of. Ivory. Jack: fruit. Jaggri: imperfect sort of sugar from a species of palm. Jambi: river of. Colonies settled on branches of it, for collecting gold. Has its source in the Limun country. Town of. Jambu: fruit. James the first: king, writes a letter to the king of Achin. Jeinal: sultan of Pase, his history. Johor: kingdom of. Kampar: river of. King of, negotiates with Alboquerque. Kampongs: or fortified villages. Kananga: flowering tree. Kapini: island of. Kasumba: name of, given to the carthamus and the bixa. Kataun: or Cattown, river of. Kima: or gigantic cockle. Koran. Korinchi: country. Mr. Campbell's visit to it. Situation of lake. Inhabitants and buildings. Food, articles of commerce, gold. Account of lepers. Peculiar plants. Character of the natives. Koto-tuggoh: a fortified village of the Sungei­tenang country. Taken and destroyed. Krises: description of. Kroi: district of. Kulit-kayu: or coolicoy, the bark of certain trees used in building, and for other purposes. Kuwau: argus or Sumatran pheasant. Labun: district of. Lakes. Laksamana: a title equivalent to commander-in-chief. Lampong: country, limits of. Inhabitants, language, and governments. Wars. Account of a peculiar people, called orang abung. Manners and customs. Superstitions. Land: unevenness of its surface. New­formed. Rarely considered as the subject of property. Land: and sea breezes, causes of. Language: Nature of the Malayan. Of others spoken in Sumatra. Court. Specimens of. Batta. Nias. Lanseh: fruit. Laws: and customs. Compilation of. Laye: river and district of. Leeches: a small kind of, very troublesome on marches. Lemba: district, inhabitants of, similar to the Rejangs. Leprosy: account of. Lignum-aloes: or kalambac. Limun: district of. Gold-traders of. Literature. Lizards. Longitude: of Fort Marlborough, determined by observation. Looms: description of. Macdonald, (Lieutenant-colonel John). Mackenzie, (Mr. Kenneth). Madagascar: resemblance in customs of, to those of Sumatra. Mahmud shah Juhan (Ala-eddin). Mahometanism: period of conversion to. Maize: or jagong, cultivation of. Malacca: or Malaka, city of, when founded. Visited in 1509 by the Portuguese. In 1511 taken by them. Repeatedly attacked by the kings of Achin. In 1641 taken by the Hollanders. Malays: name of, applied to people of Menangkabau. Nearly synonymous with Mahometan, in these parts. Difference in character between Malays and other Sumatrans. Guards composed of. Origin of. Race of kings. Not strict in matters of religion. Governments of. Malayan: language. Malur: or Malati flower (nyctanthes). Mango: fruit, described. Mangustin: fruit, described. Manjuta: river and district of. English settlement at. Manna: district of. Mansalar: island of. Mansur shah: king of Achin, besieges Malacca, and is defeated. Renews the attack, without success. Again appears before it with a large fleet, and proceeds to the attack of Johor. Murdered when preparing to sail with a considerable expedition. Mantawei: name of race of people inhabiting certain islands. Manufactures. Marco Polo: his account of Sumatra, by the name of Java minor. Visited it about the year 1290. Marriage: modes of, and laws respecting. Rites of. Festivals. Consummation of. Marsden (Mr. John). Measures: of capacity and length. Measurement: of time. Medicinal: shrubs and herbs. Medicine: art of. Mega: island of. Menangkabau: kingdom of. History of, imperfectly known. Limits of. Rivers proceeding from it. Political decline. Early mention of it by travellers. Division of the government. Extraordinary respect paid to reigning family. Titles of the sultan. Remarks on them. Ceremonies. Conversion of people to the Mahometan religion. Antiquity of the empire more remote than that event. Sultan held in respect by the Battas. Metempsychosis: ideas of, as entertained by the Sumatrans. Miller (Mr. Charles). Minerals. Mines: gold. Copper. Iron. Missionaries: no attempt of, to convert the Sumatrans to Christianity, upon record. Moco-moco: in Anac-sungei, account of. Monkeys: various species of. Monsoons: causes of their change. Morinda: wood of, used for dyeing. Mountains: chain of, running along the island. Height of Mount Ophir or Gunong Passamman. High mountain called Bukit Pandang. Mucks: practice, nature, and causes of. Muhammed shah (Ala-eddin or Ula-eddin): succeeds Juhan shah as king of Achin. His turbulent reign, and death. Mukim: divisional district of the country of Achin. Mulberry. Murder: compensation for. Musi: district of. Music: Minor key preferred. Mythology: of the Battas. Nako-nako: islands of. Nalabu: port of. Name: of Sumatra, unknown to the Arabian geographers, and to Marco Polo. Various orthography of. Probably of Hindu origin. Names: when given to children. Distinctions of. Father often named from his child. Hesitate to pronounce their own. Natal: settlement of. Gold of fine quality procured in the country of. Governed by datus. Navigation. Nias: island of. Nibong: species of palm, description and uses of. Nicolo di Conti: his visit to Sumatra. Nutmegs: and cloves, first introduction of, by Mr. Robert Broff. Second importation. Success of the culture. Oaths: nature of, in legal proceedings. Collateral. Mode of administering. Amongst the Battas. Odoricus: his visit to the island of Sumoltra. Officers: of state, in Malayan governments. At Achin. Oil: earth-. Camphor-. Coconut-. Ophir: name of, not known to the natives. Height of Mount Ophir or Gunong Passamman. Opium: considerable importation of, from Bengal. Law respecting. Practice of smoking. Preparation of. Effects of. Oranges: various species of. Oratory: gift of, natural to the Sumatrans. Ornaments: worn. Padang: the principal Dutch settlement. Padang-guchi: river of. Padi: or rice, cultivation of upland. Of lowland. Transplantation of. Rate of produce. Threshing. Beating out. Paduka Sri: king of Achin, see Iskander Muda. Pagi (or Nassaus): islands of. Palembang: river of. Rises in the district of Musi, near Bencoolen river. Dutch factory on it. Description of country on its banks. Government. City of. Many foreign settlers. Language. Interior country visited by the English. Palma-christi. Pandan: shrub, its fragrant blossom. Pangeran: nature of title. Authority much limited. Pantun: or proverbial song. Papaw: fruit. Pase: kingdom of. Passamman: province of. Passummah: Legal customs of. Pawns: or pledges, law respecting. Pepper: principal object of the Company's trade. Cultivation of. Description of the plant. Progress of bearing. Time of gathering. Mode of drying. White pepper. Surveys of plantations. Transportation of. Percha (Pulo): one of the Malayan names of Sumatra. Perfume. Pergularia odoratissima: cultivated in England by Sir Joseph Banks. Persons: of the natives, description of. Pheasant: argus or Sumatran. Philippine: islands, customs and superstitions of, resembling those of Sumatra. Pidir: kingdom of. Pigafetta (Antonio): in his voyage appears the earliest specimen of a Malayan vocabulary. Pikul: weight. Pinang: areca, or, vulgarly, the betel-nut-tree, and fruit. Pinang (Pulo): island of. Pineapple. Piratical habits: of Malays. Plantain: or pisang. Varieties of the fruit. Pleading: mode of. Poetry: fondness of the natives for. Polishing: leaf. Polygamy: question of. Connexion between it and the practice of purchasing wives. Population. Porah: island of. Portuguese: expeditions of, rendered the island of Sumatra well known to Europeans. Their first visit to it, under Diogo Lopez de Sequeira. Transactions at Pidir, and Pase. Conquer Malacca. Sustain many attacks and sieges from kings of Achin. Potatoes: cultivated in the Korinchi country. Priaman: river and district of. Invitation to the English to form a settlement there. Puhn: or Poon, signifying tree in general, applied by Europeans to a particular species. Puhn-upas: or poison-tree, account of. Pulas: species of twine from the kaluwi nettle. Pulse: variety of. Pulo: or island. Pulo: point and bay. Punei-jambu: a beautiful species of dove. Punishments: corporal. Amongst the Battas. Amongst the Achinese. Quail-fighting. Queen: government of Achin devolves to a. Account of embassy from Madras to the. Radin: prince of Madura. Raffles (Mr. Thomas). Rakan: river or estuary. Rambutan: fruit. Ramni: name given to Sumatra by the Arabian geographers. Ranjaus: description of. Rapes: laws respecting. Rattan-cane: fruit of. Considerable export trade in. Rau: or Rawa country. Rayet shah (Ala-eddin): said to have been originally a fisherman, ascends the throne of Achin, having murdered the heir. During his reign the Hollanders first visited Achin. And also the English, under Captain (Sir James) Lancaster, who carried letters from Queen Elizabeth. At the age of ninety-five, confined by his son. Reaping: mode of. Rejang: people of, chosen as a standard for description of manners. Situation of the country. Divided into tribes. Their government. Religion: state of, amongst the Rejang. No ostensible worship. The word dewa applied to a class of invisible beings. Veneration for the tombs of their ancestors. Ancient religion of Malays. Motives for conversion to Mahometanism. Of the Battas. Reptiles. Rhinoceros. Rice: culture of. Distinctions of ladang or upland, and sawah or lowland. Sowing, mode of. Reaping, mode of. An article of trade. Rivers. Rock: species of soft. Coral. Rum: or Rome, for Constantinople. Sago-tree: or rambiya (confounded with the Cycas circinalis, a different tree), described. Salt: manufacture of. Saltpetre: Procured from certain caves. Sanding: islands or Pulo Sandiang. Sappan: wood. Scorpion: flower or anggrek kasturi. Sculpture: ancient. Sea: encroachments of. Sequeira (Diogo Lopez de): first Portuguese who visited Sumatra. Serampei: country. Villages, government, features of the women. Peculiar regulation. Further account of. Sesamum: or bijin, oil produced from. Sexes: mistaken ideas of a considerable inequality in the numbers of the two. Shellfish. Siak: river of. Survey of. Country on both sides flat and alluvial. Abundance of ship-timber. Government. Trade. Subdued by the king of Achin. Si Biru: island of. Silebar: river, and district of. Sileda: attempt to work a gold mine at. Silk-cotton (bombax). Singapura: city of, when founded. Singkel: river. Si Porah: or Good Fortune, island of. Situation: of the island, general account of. Slavery: state of, not common among the Rejangs. Condition of negro slaves at Fort Marlborough. Smallpox: its ravages. Snakes. Soil: described. Unevenness of surface. Fertility of. Songs: Singing. amusement of. Spices: see Nutmegs. Sugar: manufacture of. Imperfect sort, called jaggri. Sugar-cane, cultivation of. Suits: see Causes. Sulphur: Where procured. Sumatra: name probably of Hindu origin. Sungei-lamo and Sungei-itam: rivers. Sungei-tenang: country, account of. Superstitious opinions. Surf: Considerations respecting. Probable cause of. Surveys: of pepper plantations. Swala: or sea-slug, an article of trade. Swasa: a mixture of gold and copper so called. Tamarind: tree. Tanjong: flower. Tappanuli: celebrated bay of. Settlement on the island of Punchong kechil. Taken in 1760 by the French, and again in 1809. Taprobane: name of, applied to Sumatra in the middle ages. Teak: timber, its valuable qualities. Attempts to cultivate the tree. Teeth: mode of filing them. Sometimes plated with gold. Theft: laws respecting. Proof of, required. Thermometer: height of, at Fort Marlborough, and at Natal. So low as 45 degrees on a hill in the Ipu country. Threshing: mode of. Thunder: and lightning, very frequent. Effect of. Tides: At Siak. Flow to a great distance in rivers on eastern side of the island. Tiger: Ravages by this animal. Traps. Tiku: river and islands of. Timber: great variety of. Species enumerated. Time: manner of dividing. Tin: A considerable export of it to China. Titles. Tobacco: cultivation of. Toddy: or nira, how procured. Tools: for mining. Carpenters'. Torches: or links. Trade. Triste: island of, see Mega. Tulang-bawang: river. Turmeric. Upas: vegetable poison, account of. Urei: river of. Utensils: account of. Vegetable productions. Venereal disease. Villages: description of. Virgins: their distinguishing ornaments. Volcanoes: called gunong api, account of. Warfare: mode of. Waterfalls. Waterspout: account of. Wax: a considerable article of trade. Weapons. Weaving. Weights. Wens. White-ants. White pepper. Widows: laws respecting. Wilkins (Mr. Charles). Winds. Wives: number of. See Marriage. Worm-shell: or Teredo navalis. Wood: various species of. Woods: Mode of clearing. Wounds: laws respecting. Writing: On bark of tree, and on slips of bamboo. Specimens of. Yams: various roots under that denomination. Year: mode of estimating its length. 
60751	----	Gutenberg (This book was produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Books project.) BABOE DALIMA; OR, THE OPIUM FIEND. BY T. H. PERELAER TRANSLATED FROM THE DUTCH BY THE Rev. E. J. VENNING, M.A. LONDON: VIZETELLY & CO., 16 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1888. BABOE DALIMA; OR, THE OPIUM FIEND. CHAPTER I. AT MOEARA TJATJING. It was a terrible night in February 188-. A violent storm from the north-west was raging along the northern coast of Java. The wind howled and roared as though a legion of fiends were holding Sabbath in the black mass of clouds which were driving along. The waves of the Java sea were running mountain high, and came curling into the beach in monstrous billows topped with mighty crests of dazzling foam. These crests were brightly phosphorescent, and each breaker, as it came rolling in, for an instant shed a pale fantastic shower of sparks upon the black seething waters, leaving, the next instant, the blackness darker than before. The sea-coast on which our story opens formed here, as in so many other places in Java, an extensive marsh, the slimy clay of which the influence of the tropical sun had clothed with a most curious kind of vegetation. Had it been day, the eye, as far as it could reach, would have rested upon thousands upon thousands of tree-tops, closely packed together, and rising about thirty feet from the soil. The stems of these trees did not reach the ground, but rested on knotty roots, which, like arches, grew out of the earth. These roots were divided, branching out in all directions, so that the trees might be likened to many-footed creatures, the supports or legs of each of which crossed and recrossed with those of its neighbour. Thus looking along the ground might be seen a kind of tangled network under a thick canopy of green, and that network again was entwined with gigantic creepers, hanging in festoons from the singular archways and climbing upwards into the tops of the trees. By daylight, between those myriads of twisted roots forming, as it were, a gigantic labyrinth, there might have been seen a swarming mass of living things, unsightly and loathsome, which would have filled the beholder with wonder and disgust. There, among thousands of other living beings, lay the sluggish alligator glaring at its prey with fixed and stony eye. There countless tortoises and "Mimis" were crawling and darting about in quest of food. There swarmed monstrous crabs and shrimps of all kinds, varying in size from that of the largest lobster to the almost microscopical sea-spider. All these in millions were wriggling in the filthy ooze which was formed of the detritus of this singular mangrove forest. In the mud which clung about the roots, these hideous creatures lived and teemed, not perhaps in a state of perfect concord, yet maintaining an armed kind of peace which did not prevent them from becoming allies whenever some unhappy victim, whose luckless star had cast upon that shore, had to be overpowered. Close by the narrow strip of land, where, not only in storms but in all weathers, land and water seemed to strive for the mastery, there stood a small hut hidden away completely among a clump of "Saoe" trees. These trees grew there, the only ones of their kind amidst the gloomy forest of mangrove. Surrounded by the dense foliage as by an impenetrable wall, the hut was completely invisible from the land. On the other side it commanded a wide view of the sea; but even there it was screened from observation by its position among the leaves. We called it a hut,--it was, indeed, little more than a large sentry box, and it, most appropriately, bore the name of "djaga monjet" or monkey-perch. It was put together in a very primitive fashion, and was covered with "Kadjang" mats and "attaps," both of these rough building materials obtained from the Nipah palm. The "djaga monjet" was built in the morass on piles which raised it some considerable distance from the ground. Thus the waves which now and then threatened to swallow up the fore-shore altogether, could freely wash about under it, and break and divide against the firmly driven stakes. The trunk of a tree, with some rough steps clumsily cut into it, served as a ladder and gave access to the hut which, at the time this tale begins, was wrapped in the deepest darkness, but which yet was not tenantless. Two voices might have been heard issuing from the doorway. The speakers fancied they were talking in a confidential whisper; but the blustering of the storm had gradually led them on to raise their voices, so that now they were yelling at each other rather than conversing. That, however, was of very little consequence. At such an hour, and in such fearful weather, no human being would have dreamed of prowling about there. The most zealous coastguard's man would have declined that duty. The men in the hut were talking in Malay, but they might, without difficulty, have been recognised for Chinamen. Their guttural pronunciation, the difficulty with which they sounded the letter "r," which with them indeed was spoken as "l," and a certain lisping, weakly, altogether most unpleasant accent, put the matter beyond doubt. Yes, they were two Chinamen who, sitting in that little watch-house, were eagerly, in the pitch dark night, scanning the angry sea before them. "No," said one of them, after a considerable interval of silence--"No, there is nothing whatever to be seen. In such weather, it would be simply tempting fate. You may be quite sure that the Kiem Ping Hin is snugly lying at anchor at Poeloe Karabab. She would never think of starting in such a storm." "You may be right," replied the other, "but the master's orders were most positive. We are posted here on purpose to help the men of the Kiem Ping Hin to get their cargo safe ashore." "That is true enough, Than Khan, and we shall get our pay, I daresay; but, for all that, you cannot deny that she cannot possibly come in to-night. Just hark how the wind howls, hear how the breakers roar--our perch is shaking like a reed. How would you like to be out on such a night as this?" "I," cried Than Khan, "not for all the money in the world. But still we know the old Arab Awal Boep Said--he is a tough old sea-dog, and no weather will--" "Look out!" cried the other; "there, just there! You see that big curling wave yonder! Look, you can just see it by the light of the foam. Yes, by Kong! A 'djoekoeng!'" "You are right, Liem King," replied Than Khan, "it is a 'djoekoeng'" (a boat made of a hollowed tree-stem). "There were two persons in her, both Javanese--I fancied a man and a woman." "Yes," said Liem King; "the man was rowing hard, the woman seemed frightened, she had her hands up to her face." "The 'djoekoeng,'" shouted Than Khan, "was heading for the shore; but she can never get through the breakers." "I am not so sure of that," replied Liem King. "She was making straight for Moeara Tjatjing, if she can only keep that course, she may pull through." "Why," said Than Khan, "in such a sea as this, no boat can live, she must be swamped. A rare feast for the boajas, eh?" "That 'djoekoeng,'" said Liem King, "will get through safe enough. I made her out to be a surf boat, and you know it takes a good deal to upset them." "No doubt," said Than Khan, "for all that, I am glad enough I am not in her." "Look out," shouted the other. "Look, there she is again, yes, she is making for the Moeara. If she can get behind the 'bow-nets' she is safe enough." "If she can get under the lee of the bow-nets, perhaps, but, but--" "Another boat," exclaimed Liem King. "There are white men in her." The words were no sooner uttered than two, three, four sharp reports were heard. They were rifle-shots fired from the boat, upon the occupants of the "djoekoeng." With what result who could tell? For a single instant only, the faint gleam of some gigantic breaker had revealed the two boats to the pair of spies. The next moment all was deep darkness again, and, gaze as intently as they would, not even their sharp eyes could discover anything further. Thus a quarter of an hour passed away, when suddenly Than Khan exclaimed, "A steamer!" Sure enough, far out at sea, shone the well-known green and red lights, and, high above them, the white light at the mast-head. "The guard-ship!" cried Liem King. "No doubt of it," said the other, "it must be the Matamata. Well, all I can say is that if the Kiem Ping Hin has left her anchorage she is not showing any lights; she has got away safe enough by this time." "Come, I think we may be off home to the Kampong; no smugglers will come ashore to-night, you may be sure." For a while longer did the two Celestials keep watching the steamer's movements. First she showed her three lights plainly enough, she was therefore making straight for the land. After a time, however, all of a sudden, her green light disappeared, leaving for a while the red light only visible. Presently that also went out and only the white top-mast light remained visible, and, as it seemed stationary, our Chinamen concluded that the steamer had anchored or was perhaps moving with her head to the wind. Said Than Khan at length, "It is no use staying here; while that cursed Matamata is about they will not be able to get anything ashore. Come, let us be going." "All right," replied Liem King; "but I vote we first go and have a look at the Tjatjing, we may just possibly get to know something about the 'djoekoeng.'" So our two worthies clambered down the rough log which, as we have shown, stood as a ladder against the hut; the wind howling, meanwhile, as furiously as ever. In a few steps they came upon a kind of pathway for which they had to grope with their feet in the deep darkness. They found it; and as every now and then a wave would come washing over it, the two Chinamen had to splash on in the brine. That, however, did not greatly interfere with their progress. They knew the road well, and even had the weather been rougher, they would have got along without much hesitation. They had, in fact, not very far to go. In a few minutes they reached the small river Tjatjing which close by emptied itself into the Java Sea. At the spot where the Chinamen came upon the stream it made a kind of bend or elbow as if, just before losing itself in the ocean, it had thought better of it and was trying to retrace its course. At that bend the mangrove roots retired a little from the shore, leaving a pretty wide open space from which the prospect over the river would have been quite clear; but the darkness was so intense that even Than Khan's ferret eyes could make out nothing. "If the 'djoekoeng' has reached the Moeara at all," roared Than Khan in the ear of his companion, "she must have come ashore here. They cannot possibly have got her further up the Tjatjing, there is not water enough and the marsh-weed completely chokes it up." "Hush," said Liem King; "I hear something." He was right. In spite of the awful noise of the tempest a low moaning sound could just be heard. Both pricked their ears, took their bearings; and softly, with stealthy tread they sneaked forward in the direction of the sound. Presently, they almost stumbled over a boat which lay on the beach with its stern half under water. "The 'djoekoeng,'" muttered Than Khan. Directed by the moaning sound they groped along the boat which was but a hollowed tree. Its bamboo sail-wings were lying close by smashed all to pieces by the wind and water; and a few steps further on they discovered two human beings lying prostrate in the rank grass. "Who is there?" called Liem King as he cautiously drew nearer. "It is I," replied a very feeble voice in answer to the challenge. "I? who is I?" asked the Chinaman. "I, Ardjan," was the answer. "What?" cried Liem King, "Ardjan of the Kiem Ping Hin." A faint cry at these words issued from the lips of one of the castaways. "Silence," whispered the other Chinaman. Both then bent forward over the figure which had given the name of Ardjan; but in that thick darkness it was impossible to distinguish anything. One of them pulled a dark lantern out of his pocket, struck a match and, with some trouble, managed to procure a light. As soon as he had recognised the features he cried out: "By ----! it is Ardjan! What in the world are you doing here?" "I have fallen overboard," was the reply. "Indeed you have? with that 'djoekoeng?'" sneered Liem King. "I found her in the water as I was swimming about," was the reply. "And that woman?" continued Liem King; "how about her? Did you pick her up also floating about? Who is she?" "She is Moenah, my sister," faintly said Ardjan. "Ah! your sister," exclaimed Than Khan with a low, dirty laugh. "I daresay she also managed to tumble overboard?" With these words he threw the light of the lantern full on the face of the so-called sister. The uncertain gleam revealed the well-shaped form of a beautiful Javanese maiden of sixteen who, in her confusion, strove to conceal her face under a veil, which, like all the rest of her clothing, was dripping wet. "Hallo!" cried Than Khan as he roughly tore the veil from the girl's face, "what have we here? Dalima! the little 'baboe' of His Excellency the Resident." At these words the maiden cowered down in the most abject terror. The two Chinamen exchanged a few hasty words in whispers in which the name Lim Ho could be distinguished. That name seemed to have an extraordinary effect upon the poor girl. When she heard it her face became the very picture of terror. This Lim Ho was one of the sons of the great opium farmer at Santjoemeh and the man was madly in love with the poor little Javanese girl. He had offered her large sums of money, he had tempted her with costly gifts, but all in vain. He had addressed himself to her father, a poor peasant in the "dessa" of Kaligaweh close by the principal township, again without success. Then the wretch had sworn that, at any price, the girl should be his, even if to possess her he might have to commit a crime. He was a kind of scoundrel who would stick at nothing. At the mention of that hateful name the girl recoiled and shrunk together in terror. She knew the man, and now she also knew the two rascals into whose power she had thus been thrown. The two Chinamen kept on whispering to each other; they spoke in Chinese of which language neither Ardjan nor Dalima knew a single word. Before, however, the former had time to collect his thoughts or his energies, the scoundrels were upon him. They tied up his hands and feet with a thin rope which Liem King drew out of the capacious pocket of his baggy trousers. Before he had time to defend himself Ardjan found himself helpless, tied up in the shape of a hoop. But even had there been time to resist, the poor fellow could have done nothing. He was quite unarmed, he had not had time even to snatch up his dagger-knife, and the frightful exertion of rowing the "djoekoeng" through the breakers had so completely fagged him out, that, when the men came upon him, he was lying panting for breath on the beach and quite incapable of further exertion. The low moaning sound which had guided the Chinamen to him was the sound of his gasping and panting for breath as he lay on the shore. Having firmly secured Ardjan, the Chinamen took hold of Dalima and pinioned her also, ordering her to keep perfectly quiet and threatening to kill her should she disobey. It was a good thing for Dalima that her captors could not see the expression on her face as they uttered their threatening warning. There passed over the girl's features an expression of contempt which would have given them food for reflection; and might have induced them to make quite sure of their fair prisoner. But of this they saw nothing, and, thinking the girl safe enough, they turned to her companion. His arms were tied behind him and fastened to his feet which had also been tightly bound. Liem King now took up a stout bamboo stick which had formed part of the rigging of the surf boat, and having passed it under Ardjan's arms they each took hold of one end of the bamboo, and put it on their shoulders, and then, with their living burden thus helplessly dangling between them they ran at a slow trot up the path, along which, a few minutes before, they had groped their way. At every jolt the poor Javanese uttered a cry of anguish. It was torture indeed that they made Ardjan endure. The whole weight of his body, bent in the most constrained attitude, was bearing upon his arms, and the whippy motion of the pliable stick made every movement almost unendurable as the Chinamen jogged slowly along. The bones of the arms upon which, as a sack, the entire body was hanging seemed at every moment about to snap, and the limbs felt as if every jog must wrench them from their sockets. But neither Liem King nor Than Khan paid the slightest heed to Ardjan's shrieks, they kept quietly trotting along. In vain did the wretched man entreat them to kill him and so put him out of the misery he was enduring. In vain, seeing his prayers unheeded, did he hurl the most offensive epithets at the heads of his tormentors, hoping thus to provoke them to rage and goad them on to take summary vengeance. To all Ardjan's entreaties and insults, the Chinamen replied only with derisive laughter, and the "Aso tjina" (Chinese dog) repeated again and again, Than Khan, who had one hand free, repaid with a tremendous blow with his fist, the effect of which was only to increase the agony of the sufferer. In a few minutes, however, which to Ardjan seemed an age of torture, the "djaga monjet" was reached. The ropes which tied Ardjan's feet were then untied, leaving his arms only closely pinioned. The Chinamen then ordered him to climb up the rough steps and enforced their command by pricking him with the points of their daggers. The Javanese knew well that the faintest show of resistance might cost him his life, and now that the torture of dangling on the bamboo was no longer felt, he began to take a more cheerful view of life. So he passively did as he was told, and in a few moments he was at the top and inside the hut. There the two brutes once again tied him up securely, and, in order to make even an effort of flight impossible, they fastened his hands tightly on his chest and forced the bamboo cane through the bend of the elbows which were sticking out behind his back. Thus trussed up, as it were, the least movement on the part of Ardjan occasioned the most unbearable pain to his bruised and swollen limbs. Then, they laid him down on his back on the floor of the hut, and to make assurance doubly sure, they lashed him to one of the principal posts of the small building. Having made all safe, the Chinamen went off to fetch Dalima. What they intended to do with the girl was a matter of dispute between them. Liem King proposed that they should settle by a cast of the dice which of them should possess her; but Than Khan, who was of a more practical and covetous turn of mind, explained to his companion that a good round sum of money might be got out of the son of the rich opium farmer if they delivered her into his hands. They were still debating the question when they reached the Tjatjing, where they had left their victim lying on the grass. There they soon found out that they need not have argued the matter at all; for though they searched the whole place with the utmost minuteness, they could find no trace of Dalima. Yes, they did find a trace; for behind a clump of undergrowth close to the spot where they had left the girl, they discovered the coil of rope with which they had bound her. She had, evidently, somehow or other found means to get her wrists to her mouth, and had succeeded in gnawing through the cords. Once her hands were free it was mere child's play to untie her feet and legs. "Devil take her!" exclaimed Liem King, "that tit-bit is lost to us." "Indeed she is," sighed Than Khan; "we have allowed a nice little sum to slip through our fingers. Lim Ho would have paid well for her." "Now, I think," said Liem King, "the best thing will be not to breathe a word about her to the Company." "Oh, of course, not a single word," assented Than Khan; "now that she has got away that would be most dangerous." "But what," asked the other, "had we better do now with Ardjan? I think we had better let him go, too. He is sure to let out all about Dalima." "No fear," rejoined Than Khan, "he won't dare to do that. Should he utter a single word about the girl Lim Ho would have him clubbed to death." "Well," said Liem King, pensively, "for all that I think the safest plan is to let him go." "H'm," said the other, "why so? You know as well as I do that he ought to be on board the Kiem Ping Hin. Now, how on earth did he manage to get here in that 'djoekoeng?' Take my word for it, there is some mystery about that. Very likely it may be important to the Company to get to the bottom of that. Ah," added he, with a deep sigh of disappointment, "I only wish we had tied up that wretched girl a little more securely." "Oh, no, don't say so!" cried Liem King, "you would have bruised those darling little wrists and dainty ankles." "Bah!" cried Than Khan. "What nonsense, I wish we had her here; now she is off. Where can she have got to?" "Yes," replied Liem King, "that is the question, where to look for her. But come along, let us hurry back or else we may find the other bird flown too. There is something, you know, that tells me we have made a good catch in him." So the two rascals got back to the hut, and found Ardjan lying there quietly enough, just as they left him. He had not been able to stir hand or foot. As soon as he saw that the Chinamen came back alone his eye brightened. "Where is Dalima?" he exclaimed, most anxiously. The Chinamen made no answer. "Has she got away?" he asked again. Than Khan shook his head. It was enough, there was something so doleful in that gesture that Ardjan did not, for a moment, doubt. Dalima had escaped. Now he could breathe more freely. If only he had been equally fortunate. He had tried all he could to get rid of these accursed ropes; but, alas! his arms hurt him so frightfully he thought they were broken, and he had to give up the attempt in despair. Where might the dear girl be now? He felt but little anxiety on that score. She had managed, perhaps, to run to Kaligaweh, where her parents lived--the distance was not great--she must, by this time, be close to the dessa. Perhaps, she had taken the way to Santjoemeh, where lived the family of the Resident, as she was in his service as nurse. In that case, she would have a long journey before her, and she could not reach it before daybreak. If only then she could at once tell her whole story--then, yes, who knows, then he might even yet be rescued. But all such reflections were roughly interrupted by Liem King, who asked him, "Where did you come from on so wild a night as this?" "I?" said Ardjan, "why, I have come from Santjoemeh, to be sure. I intended to take Dalima to her father at Kaligaweh. The nor'-wester drove us out to sea, I rowed with might and main to get to the Moeara Tjatjing." "What do you mean?" grinned Than Khan. "What business had you at the Moeara? Oh, now I see, you wanted, no doubt, to pay us a visit here! That is it--is it not?" Ardjan trembled inwardly; but he replied calmly enough: "I could not get as far as Sepoetran, and found myself drifting out to sea, so I was compelled to make for the nearest land." "But they have been after you," exclaimed Than Khan. "You have been fired at." "So I have," said Ardjan. "It must have been a boat of that wretched Matamata, they must have taken me for a smuggler." "Have you any stuff with you?" asked Than Khan. There was no reply to that question. Had these Chinamen known in what position he really was, they never would have asked him such a question as that. "But," continued Liem King, "you are mate of the Kiem Ping Hin. How is it you are not on board of her?" For a moment the Javanese did not know what to answer, then he said: "Captain Awal Boep Said has given me leave to spend two days on shore." "You go and tell your grandmother that tale, it won't do for us. What! just at this time, when there is so much work on hand?" cried Than Khan. "Well," said Ardjan, "it is true, nevertheless." "Very good," replied Than Khan, "the Company will soon get to know all about that." After these words there was silence. The Chinamen wrapped themselves up in a kind of rug or mat, and sat down cross-legged on the floor, with their heads bent forwards on their breast, and thus they seemed to be falling into a doze. Ardjan, still fastened up in the most painful way to the bamboo stick, had to lie on his back. It was pitch dark in the hut; the door and the shutters were closed to exclude, as much as possible, the cold morning air. But, when every now and then the Javanese turned his head to the right or left, he could, through the chinks of the lath floor, see that day was breaking. A greyish light began to appear under the hut, and thus Ardjan could see the filthy mud in which a number of crawling things, such as sea-eels, marsh-snakes, iguanas, and water-lizards were swarming. They were in quest of the miscellaneous offal which they were wont to find under the "djaga monjet." For a while all was quiet, when suddenly the report of a gun shook the hut. The sound startled both the Chinamen to their feet. It was evidently a signal. Than Khan rushed to the door, and threw it open. It was then broad daylight, the sun was just about to rise, and was bathing the eastern horizon in a flood of the richest purple. CHAPTER II. IN THE DJAGA MONJET. For a moment or two, Than Khan stood rubbing his eyes, the sudden glare of light almost blinded him after the darkness of the hut. As soon as he became somewhat accustomed to the morning light, he perceived that a great change had taken place in nature. The wind which had been howling so dismally all night long had now fallen considerably, and the thick black clouds were breaking up, while patches of clear blue sky were becoming visible on all sides. The eastern horizon was perfectly cloudless, and the sun rising in full glory was bathing all he touched in the purest gold. It was a magnificent spectacle, certainly, that morning of calm after the night of storm; but neither Than Khan nor his companion seemed to pay the slightest heed to these beauties of nature. The two Celestials were not troubling their minds about the sun; they were eagerly scanning the surface of the sea, and that not for the purpose of admiring the stately roll of the long breakers; they were looking out for something quite different. Yonder, at a considerable distance from the shore, they could just see a ship dancing on the waves. They could make her out with the naked eye to be a schooner-brig, which, under shortened sail, was lying close to the wind, and was evidently purposely keeping away from the land. She had some kind of signal flying; but what it was they could not make out. Liem King then produced a ship's telescope, which was kept stowed away under the "attaps" in a corner of the roof, and which had long since lost its original colour, being thickly covered with a coating of dirt and dust. The Chinaman handled the glass as one who was familiar with its use, and, after looking for awhile, he turned to his mate, and said: "The letters T.F.N.W. on a red ground. That must be the Kiem Ping Hin. She ought to have come in last night, and--" "She is trying to anchor, I suppose," said Than Khan. "No, she is not," replied Liem King; "she is only trying to keep out of the smuggling radius." "Well," cried Than Khan, "that's cool enough anyhow. Why! only last night we had the Matamata here." "Why," said the other, "she is safe enough. Where she is now lying the steamer could not get at her, and, what's more, she is flying the British ensign. Under those colours no one will dare to meddle with her. The Dutch are frightened to death of the English." After looking through his glass at the schooner for a few moments longer Liem King exclaimed: "They are lowering the boat!" "Then one of us," said Than Khan, "will have to run to the landing place at the Tjatjing." "Very well, you go," said Liem King. "No, you," said the other. "Why should we not both go together?" asked Liem King. "Certainly not," rejoined Than Khan. "Would you," he asked as he pointed to Ardjan, "leave this fellow here alone and unwatched?" "Perhaps you are right," assented the other, "let us toss up for it." "All right," replied Than Khan, "I don't mind." One of them then produced some white pebbles about the size of beans among which there were a few black ones. With a certain amount of dexterity he flung them upon a wooden board which seemed made for the purpose. Liem King counted the throw to see how many black ones were lying together. It was Than Khan's turn next. "I have won," he exclaimed. "You see I have seven black together. You had but five." "Very good," said Liem King. "I shall go." "But mind," said the other, "not a word about Dalima!" "You trust me," was the answer. A strange scornful smile passed over Ardjan's features. Than Khan sat down cross-legged in the doorway of the hut, placing himself in such a manner that while he had a clear view of the bay before him, he could at the same time watch every movement Ardjan might attempt to make. Not a single action on board the schooner escaped the Chinaman's watchful eye. He saw the smuggler lower her boat, he then saw five or six Chinese get into her. The little craft, rowed by a Javanese crew, then put off and got under weigh. It soon got into the seething breakers and as Than Khan watched the tremendous exertions of the rowers, he could not help admiring the cool steady way in which the helmsman kept her head firmly to the waves. "That must be Lim Ho himself," he muttered. Ardjan shuddered at the mention of that name. "Lim Ho!" he exclaimed, his voice betraying his terror. "Yes," said Than Khan, "in a few minutes they will all be here." Just then the boat was getting into the Moeara. He was right, the light craft manned by eight stout rowers was flying through the water and had got clear of the dangerous surf. Once under the lee of the bow-nets and fairly in the bay, the boat was in comparatively smooth water and darted into the mouth of the Tjatjing. Liem King stood at the landing place waiting to receive his countrymen and he began at once to lead the way to the little watch-house. The five Chinamen had no sooner stepped ashore than the Javanese crew began to make all possible haste to unload the boat. A number of small tins and barrels lay piled up in the bottom and these they brought to land and most carefully stowed away, hiding them in the sand under the bushes which grew hard by. "Jolly stuff that black butter," said one of the fellows, as he pointed to the barrels. The small casks looked as if they had just come out of some Dutch farmhouse. They were all sealed with green wax and bore the well-known stamp of Van der Leeuw. "I wish I could get hold of a couple of taël of that butter," said another of the crew with a laugh. "Well," said another, "you can be off presently to the opium den of Babah Tjoa Tjong Ling and there you can get as much as you like of it. You will find it easy enough to get rid of your hardly earned wages." In a few minutes all the tins and barrels were safely stowed away and then the Javanese crew followed the steps of their Chinese masters to the "djaga monjet." When the five Chinamen had entered the little hut, the examination of Ardjan, who was still lying on the floor in the same painful position, was commenced at once. On the way to the hut Liem King had told his master as much as he deemed prudent about Ardjan's capture; but not a word did he breathe about Dalima. Lim Ho listened with attention to his report. This Lim Ho was a tall, powerfully-built Chinaman. He was the chief of that band of smugglers, about five-and-twenty years of age. He had a wan yellow complexion, and a false, evil look in his slanting eyes. When he heard it was Ardjan, the mate, who had been caught, he could not repress a smile of satisfaction. As soon as Liem King had made his report, he asked in a tone of assumed indifference: "Was the fellow alone when you came upon him?" "Oh yes, quite alone," readily replied Liem King. Lim Ho showed that he was greatly disappointed at the news. "He came ashore in a 'djoekoeng,' I think you told me?" he asked. "He did, sir," replied Liem King. "Could the 'djoekoeng' have turned over at sea?" continued Lim Ho. "Very likely," replied the wily Chinaman. "When Than Khan and myself found the 'djoekoeng,'" he continued, "Ardjan was lying exhausted and wet through on the beach--he looked as if he had been washing about in the water, and the bamboos of the rigging were smashed to pieces." "All right," said Lim Ho superciliously, "we shall hear all about that presently." As he entered the hut, he did not deign so much as to cast a look at Ardjan; but abruptly asked him: "What made you run away?" "I was homesick," was the reply, "I was heartily sick of the ship and wanted to get back to the 'dessa.'" "Indeed!" sneered Lim Ho. "And that was the reason, I suppose, why you took Dalima with you?" Ardjan kept silence; Liem King and Than Khan were growing as pale as death. "Where was the girl drowned?" suddenly asked Lim Ho. "Drowned," shouted Ardjan, "you say drowned. Have they drowned her, then?" "Have they drowned her?" said Lim Ho in a mocking tone of voice. "Was not the 'djoekoeng' upset when the pair of you tried to run away in her? Where did that take place? perhaps Dalima may somehow have been able to get out." "Able to get out," repeated Ardjan. "But the 'djoekoeng' did not turn over at all," he exclaimed. "We both of us got ashore. She was terribly frightened at the storm to be sure, but quite unhurt, and I was completely exhausted with rowing." "But," roared Lim Ho, "what has become of her, then?" "That, I cannot tell you," replied Ardjan, "you must ask Liem King and Than Khan." These two worthies stood trembling with apprehension. "Did you fellows hear that?" shouted Lim Ho in a towering passion. "Did you hear that? I am waiting for you--what is your answer?" "I do not know what has become of the girl," stammered Than Khan. "She has, very likely, been devoured by a crocodile, for all I know," added Liem King. "Did she get to land? Yes or no?" roared Lim Ho, while in his impatience he stamped about the little hut, shaking it to its foundations. "She did," replied Ardjan. "Those two scoundrels first tied me up, and then they bound Dalima's arms and legs. They brought me in here, and after that they went out in quest of Dalima. But all I know is they came back without her." Lim Ho's piercing eyes were watching the two Chinamen as Ardjan was speaking. "I have no doubt," Liem King again ventured to say, "that some crocodile has carried her off." "Or maybe," said Than Khan, "a tiger has got hold of her." Lim Ho applied a small whistle to his lips. He blew a shrill piercing note, and at the summons one of the Javanese crew at once presented himself at the door of the hut. "Call your mates," ordered Lim Ho. In an instant the whole boat's crew was present. "Tie me up those scoundrels," cried Lim Ho, "make them fast," he said, as he pointed to Liem King and Than Khan. "Tie them up, and securely too, do you hear me!" The men readily obeyed, it was the work of an instant. Nothing in this world gave these fellows greater delight than to be allowed to lay their hands upon a Chinaman. They set to work as roughly, as brutally as they could. The knots were tied and they hauled upon the ropes with a will. The wretched victims groaned with the pain. Oh! if ever it should come to an outbreak, then woe to the Celestials in Java, they would find but little mercy. Who knows--were such a catastrophe to take place they might not be the only race to suffer. There are others who might get into trouble too! When both the Chinese spies were firmly secured, Lim Ho called to his men. "Now, my lads, now for a hunt! A girl--little Dalima--has escaped from us and we must get her back. Five hundred 'ringgiets' six dollars to the man who finds her and brings her in!" With a ringing cheer the boat's crew dashed from the hut. When they had left, Lim Ho ordered one of his followers to hand him his pipe. He filled the small bowl with the slender bamboo stem with extremely fine-cut tobacco, then he lit the pipe and began to blow the smoke from his nostrils. Thereupon he took a seat on the only chair the hut contained. It was a rough and clumsy piece of furniture, cut out of the wood with a clasp-knife. The other Chinamen sat down cross-legged on the floor, while their captain once again turned to Ardjan. "Come now," said he, "just you tell us how you managed to get Dalima out of the Kiem Ping Hin. You knew well enough, did you not, that I wanted the girl? But, look you, no lies! No lies, mind you! Your life is in my hands; you are aware of that, I hope." Ardjan could but utter a deep sigh. He begged that his hands might be slackened if but a little. "To be trussed up like this," said he, "is unbearable torture." "No, no," laughed Lim Ho. "First let us hear what you have to say, then we shall see what we can do for you." Nevertheless he gave the order to remove the bamboo cane which had so long tortured the poor Javanese, and as soon as that was removed the Chinaman said: "Now, speak up, I am listening to you!" "You are aware," began Ardjan, "that I am mate on board the Kiem Ping Hin. Yesterday afternoon we were lying at anchor behind Poeloe Kalajan which is not far from Santjoemeh, when a 'djoekoeng' rowed up to us in which a couple of your countrymen were seated. At first I thought that they came alongside to take off some of the smuggled opium with which the schooner is partly loaded. I, therefore, threw them a rope and helped them up the ship's side. But, instead of coming to fetch anything off, they brought something aboard with them. It was a heavy sack which they carefully hoisted on deck, and which had something of the appearance of a human form. However, that was no business of mine, it was not the first time that I had seen that kind of thing going on. I even lent a hand at carrying the load into the captain's cabin, and I laughed and joked with the Chinamen at the fun Awal Boep Said was going to have. "When, shortly after, the captain came on board, I told him of the bit of good luck that had befallen him, and I fancied he would be mightily pleased. Not a bit of it, instead of at once rushing down into his cabin, he quietly remained on deck, simply ordering me to keep a sharp look out as he was expecting some friends. And, true enough, a few hours later you, Lim Ho, came on board with two of your followers. You reached the schooner just in time. Night was rapidly falling, and a north-westerly storm was blowing up. No sooner were you aboard than it began to blow furiously. The moment I saw you, an unpleasant feeling came over me, and quite involuntarily my thoughts at once flew to the sack which I had helped to get aboard, and which then was lying on the bed in the cabin. I longed to get away down below to have a look; but the captain, who was watching the storm that was brewing, ordered the men to the braces and had a second anchor brought out. I had, of course, to take my share of duty and could not leave the deck. "When, an hour or so after, I got to the cabin, I found you there stretched out on a couch. You were hard at it smoking opium, your pipe was in your hand, and with evident satisfaction you were swallowing down the smoke.-- "I knew well enough what all this meant. A man whose senses are dulled and deadened by habitual excess, must find something to rouse him. I knew that you had some little pigeon in your clutches, and that you were seeking to recruit by opium your exhausted powers. Your object was to get the greatest possible amount of enjoyment out of your victim--You know the properties of opium, and how to make use of it. "Now all this did not concern me, I merely chuckled--I thought, that's a common thing enough! I remember a hadji telling me that opium is a gift of Ngahebi Mohammed, and the ever-blessed in Paradise use it to renew their strength and thus are for ever beloved by the houris. "But yet, I could not get rid of that strange feeling that told me all was not well. I could not get rid of my anxious curiosity. Dalima has long ago been promised to me by her parents. She is to be my wife as soon as I can get together a few more 'ringgiets' which will enable me to purchase a yoke of oxen. The day on which I can get them together, is to be my wedding-day. "But Lim Ho," and at these words the voice of the Javanese began to hiss and assume an almost threatening tone, "but Lim Ho, I know also that you covet the maiden,--I know what treasures you have offered her--I know what sums you have offered her parents as the price of her virtue, and of her innocence. "I made up my mind--I must see who was there in the cabin.--Oh! I had not, at that time, the least suspicion that it was Dalima! She had rejected all your advances with the utmost contempt. Her father had even threatened to kreese you. How could the 'baboe' of the Ioean Resident have come into your power?--You see it was impossible!" "Yes, yes, as you say it was quite impossible," said Lim Ho with a grin, excited by the story of Ardjan. "I say, Ong Kwat, just tell us how the girl came into your hands!" "No need of that," resumed Ardjan, "I know all about it. Dalima told me the whole story in the 'djoekoeng.' Yesterday she was out for a walk with her master's youngest child in the lane behind the Residence. The boy in his play, flung his ball into a ditch by the side of the road. A Chinaman happened to be passing at the time and Dalima requested him to fetch the toy out of the water. He did so at her request; but instead of returning the ball to the child he pitched it as far as he could into the garden. The boy ran off eagerly to fetch it, and Dalima was looking after the child, when suddenly the Chinaman flung himself upon her, gagged her, and before she could utter a single cry threw a sack over her head. Thus muffled he dragged her to the end of the lane, and put her into a 'djoekoeng' which was lying in the ditch. The boat at once put off, and in an hour's time was alongside the Kiem Ping Hin." "Just so!" exclaimed Lim Ho. "Now, Ong Kwat, is not that just about how you managed it?" The man thus addressed grinned, nodded his head and added, "Yes, master, for four whole days I had been on the prowl for that catch." "Now, Ardjan," resumed Lim Ho, "you may go on again; but mind you, no lies." The Javanese continued: "As I entered the cabin I gave a hasty look round. You, Lim Ho, were partially unconscious, still smoking opium. You had not got to that stage when the drug excites the passions to madness. Your attendant was intent upon kneading the 'mandat' balls. There was no one in the cabin but you two, so I ventured to creep in, and, by the light of the lamp that was burning there, I saw--Dalima. "With one bound I was at her side, in an instant I had severed the ropes which tied her, and in another moment I had dragged her out of the cabin. Thereupon I flew forward, got some clothes which I happened to have by me, and in a few seconds was back again with them. Dalima slipped them on, and thus partially disguised I hid her under a heap of sails which happened to be lying in the stern. "Meanwhile the storm was raging in all its fury, and I have no doubt that it was chiefly owing to the noise of the wind that we had been able to get clear of the cabin unperceived. Captain Awal Boep Said, like a good Mussulman, was telling his beads, and from time to time uttered an 'Allah achbar' (God is great), or a 'Bismillah' (God be praised). The other men were all taking shelter in the forecastle, and your servants were lying sea-sick in their bunks. "Of these favourable circumstances I made the best use I could. The 'djoekoeng,' in which Dalima had come alongside, was still lying there dancing on the waves. I took hold of the painter and drew the boat up to the side. The girl slid down into her along a rope which was hanging over the ship's side. I followed her, seized upon a paddle and then I cast her adrift, and the storm soon drove us far from the Kiem Ping Hin. "I was in hopes that I might succeed in reaching that part of the beach which lies nearest to the Resident's house; but when the 'djoekoeng' got under the Poeloe Kalajan the wind got hold of her and we had to drift at the mercy of the waves. "Then I managed to set the wings which were lying in the bottom of the boat. Without them we must certainly have capsized and been drowned. I kept on rowing with all my might; for I knew that once we were driven past the cape there would be an end of us. At length--at length--I managed to struggle through the breakers. One more effort and we were safe at the Moeara Tjatjing! The moment danger was over I fell down utterly exhausted, and, before I had time to recover Than Khan and Liem King had discovered us. They pinioned us both, Dalima and me. Me they carried off to this hut; what has become of the girl I don't know. I have not seen or heard of her since. Now then, Lim Ho," said he in conclusion, "that is the whole truth." For a short time silence was preserved, Lim Ho seemed to reflect on what he had heard, and no one in the hut ventured to disturb his reflections. At length he spoke, turning to Than Khan and Liem King, and said: "Well, what have you to say to all that?" Neither of them answered a word. "Do you intend to answer, yes or no?" roared Lim Ho in a furious passion, as he dealt Than Khan, who lay bound on the floor, a heavy kick in the side. "The Javanese lies," cried the Chinaman, writhing with pain. "We have seen nothing of the girl!" "He probably got her off into the woods," added Liem King, "before we came up." "I would gladly have given my life for Dalima," cried Ardjan, "but I was lying on the beach utterly prostrate; I could not defend her, sir, I could not defend myself. I am telling you the truth. These two scoundrels must know what they have done with her!" Lim Ho muttered a few words to himself and appeared to be thinking what he would do next, when voices were heard outside the hut, the voices of the boat's crew who had been hunting for Dalima, and were now returning with the tidings that their search had been fruitless, and that they had nowhere been able to find the girl. Ardjan's face gleamed with satisfaction as he heard it, and he at once grew calmer. "Unless," said one of the Javanese boatmen, holding up a coil of rope, "you call this a trace of her. I found this close by the spot where we landed." Lim Ho fixed his eye upon the two wretched spies. They held their peace, that silent proof effectually closed their mouths. "These are," said Ardjan, in a much quieter tone of voice than that in which he had spoken before, "these are the cords with which they bound Dalima's wrists and ankles. I recognise them perfectly." Lim Ho hereupon uttered but two words; but they were words which caused Ardjan and Liem King and Than Khan to shudder with terror. In most abject terms they prayed for mercy. But Lim Ho remained deaf to all their entreaties, he scarcely deigned to cast a look at them; but now and then in his cold rage he would deal a savage kick at the body of one or the other of the prostrate Chinamen. In a few abrupt words he gave his orders to the Javanese crew. Whatever his commands might be, his men were but too ready to carry them out. A couple of them at once left the hut while the others set Ardjan and the two Chinamen upon their legs and prepared to take them out of the cabin. "Oh, sir, have pity, have mercy upon us!" Than Khan exclaimed in truly piteous accents. "Where is Dalima?" was the furious rejoinder. "We don't know where she is!" cried both the Chinamen. "And you!" shouted Lim Ho turning to Ardjan; "do you know what has become of her?" "I know nothing about it," was the reply. "I think that most probably she may have got back to the Residence." "Have mercy, have mercy!" shrieked Liem King. "What? mercy on such brutes as you?" scornfully said Lim Ho. "But," they asked; "what harm have we done?" "I will tell you what you have done," sneered Lim Ho. "You have had Dalima in your power and you have been pleased to let her go. That's what you have done and you shall suffer for it. And you!" he hissed out in fury, as he turned to Ardjan, "you have dared to carry the girl away. Oh, you shall pay for it!" "But she is my bride," pleaded the wretched man. "Your bride, indeed," said Lim Ho with concentrated rage. "Your bride? Do you think a pretty girl like Dalima is destined to be the bride of a Javanese dog like you? But it was last night that you carried her off from the Kiem Ping Hin. Might you perhaps in that 'djoekoeng'--" A disgusting leer of disappointed passion passed over the features of Lim Ho as he uttered the half finished question. "No, no, by Allah!" fiercely exclaimed the Javanese. "Dalima is as pure as the white flower of which she bears the name. But," added he in a calmer mood, "you know better than that. You know that in such weather as we had last night I had very little time for trifling and love-making." "That's lucky for you," cried Lim Ho; "had you so much as touched her too freely I would this very moment drive my kreese into you. As it is, I will simply punish you for having run away. I will consent to forget that Dalima is anything to you. But," he added with an odious smile, "you seem to forget that the matter is somewhat serious for you. You ran away, remember, to give the coastguard notice of the arrival and of the movements of the Kiem Ping Hin--" "That is not true," hastily interrupted Ardjan. "That, you see, amounts to treachery--treachery to the Company," continued Lim Ho without taking the slightest notice of Ardjan's indignant denial. "It's a serious matter as you know." "I tell you it is all a lie," cried the wretched Javanese, driven to despair by the other's manner. "It is all a lie. I ran away to save Dalima from your filthy clutches; you may drive your dagger into me for that, but I am no traitor." "I tell you again," replied Lim Ho with perfect calmness, "that your intention was to betray the secrets of the Company. You know the laws of the Company, do you not? I will therefore give you the same punishment as to those two scoundrels. I will then have you put on board the Kiem Ping Hin; not as her mate; oh, no, but simply as a slave; and you will be put ashore at Poeloe Bali and there you will have to remain on pain of death. You will remain there, I say, as long as ever the Company shall see fit." "Oh no!" wildly cried Ardjan, "not that, anything but that; rather kill me at once. I have not played the spy; I am no traitor. I will not, I cannot live away from Dalima!" The face of Lim Ho plainly showed the bitter hatred he felt towards his rival--a hatred the more intense because he knew that Ardjan possessed the fair young girl's heart. He did not, however, vouchsafe any further reply; but gave a sign to the boatmen. With blows and kicks they drove the prisoners before them down the rough steps. They revelled in the brutality which they were allowed to show to these unhappy wretches. With their hands tightly bound behind their backs the three were half driven, half pushed down, and being quite unable to steady themselves they tumbled down into the filthy mud beneath and grovelled there amidst the shouts of laughter of their tormentors until they were again roughly put on their feet. Lim Ho and his pig-tailed companions heartily joined in the merriment and thus encouraged the rough sailors in their unmerciful handling of the miserable captives. CHAPTER III. HOEKOEM KAMADOOG--THE VAN GULPENDAM FAMILY. Nothing could be more strange, and indeed awful, than the contrast between the fair face of nature and the hideous cruelty which man was about to perpetrate on that little sequestered spot on the north coast of Java. The storm which had been raging furiously during the night had now fallen to a fresh yet warm breeze. The leaves of the singular forest of mangrove were softly rustling in the wind, and the waves, which a few hours ago were madly dashing on the shore, now were quietly running up the beach with pleasant and melodious murmurs. Indeed, the prospect from the hut over the little bay of the Moeara Tjatjing, enclosed by its two headlands, was picturesque in the extreme. Under the bright beams of the early morning sun, the intense blue of the sea was glittering with indescribable purity and brilliancy, the surface of the ocean was still heaving, the waves still were following each other as in pursuit, here and there a breaker might still be seen topped by a snow-white cap of foam; but there was nothing angry in the scene. The bosom of Amphitrite still heaved, but all fierce and angry passions seemed to have died away. At some little distance from the land the schooner Kiem Ping Hin was dancing on the water, rising and falling gracefully, while the British ensign floated at the peak. Just in front of the hut, in which took place the stormy scenes we have described in the former chapters, and close by the small group of "Saoe" trees we have mentioned, there stood a clump of "Niboeng" palms. Straight and smooth as candles were their stems, and high up in the air their feathery tops were waving to the breeze. On all sides, excepting on that of the sea, the mangrove wood, with its maze of tangled roots, surrounded the hut as with an impenetrable wall. The bay to which Lim Ho and his attendants had dragged their unhappy prisoners was thus perfectly lonely, closely screened from every human eye. As soon as they had arrived at the spot, Lim Ho made a signal to his men. In an instant the prisoners had their clothes torn from their bodies, and stark naked they were firmly lashed to the smooth stems of three palm trees. The ropes, which had already served to confine the limbs of Dalima, now were used to tie Ardjan and the two Chinese spies to the trunks of these trees, which, to them, were to become stakes at which they were destined to endure the most excruciating agony. The victims knew well what was in store for them, and kept anxiously looking round to see what would happen; their eyes, however, glaring around with wild terror, could not, at once, discover what they sought, and what they were every moment dreading to see. Although the tropical sun was burning down on their backs, yet they were trembling in every limb, as if shivering with cold; their hands were fastened high up above their heads, and the ropes were passed round their loins and knee-joints. Thus they could not make the slightest movement without extreme pain, for the ropes being plaited of "Iemoetoe" were hard, rough, and prickly. Suddenly Than Khan uttered a startled cry, he had been anxiously looking round, and he now saw a couple of sailors coming up from the wood, each carefully bearing a bundle of leaves. The wretched man knew at a glance that the hour of torture was at hand. The leaves which the sailors bore well deserve description. They were broad and heart-shaped, and were attached to twigs resembling brushwood. The edges of the leaves were roughly jagged like the teeth of a saw, and their upper and under surfaces were covered with white hairy down. They were leaves of the "Kamadoog," the devil thistle, the most terrible plant perhaps which the earth produces. With infinite precaution--a precaution which needs no explanation--the Javanese sailors made, of these leafy twigs, three broom-like scourges, around the handles of which they carefully wrapped some grass and bits of rag. When he saw his men thus armed, Lim Ho gave the signal to begin. Three sailors stepped up to the victims, and with the twigs began to strike their backs, their loins, their thighs, and the calves of their legs. Then was enacted a hideous, but most curious scene. It was not, properly speaking, any scourging at all, the blows which they inflicted were as light as possible; they rather flipped or stroked the flesh of their victims, and it looked as if they were engaged in simply driving away insects or troublesome flies from the naked bodies. Now and then, one or other of them would give a somewhat harder flip, as if some obstinate fly refused to be dislodged from the spot. But the features of the unfortunate wretches, who were suffering this apparently playful scourging, were in horrible contrast with the seeming gentleness of the treatment. The faces of Ardjan and of his companions in misfortune were actually distorted with terror, their eyes were starting from the sockets. Wherever those dreadful leaves lightly fell on the skin, the body at once shrunk away in pain, the limbs began to quiver, the muscles began to work up and to stiffen in knots, as if drawn together by violent cramp. But still that gentle flicking and stroking went on. The sufferers began to writhe and twist about their bodies in intolerable anguish. Still the heartless executioners went on with their hideous task. The miserable victims panted for breath, a low, most pitiful moaning escaped from their lips; they gnashed their teeth with agony, they bit their lips until the blood came; but all to no purpose--nothing could bring them relief. "Have mercy, sir," they moaned with the piteous wail of a dying child. But Lim Ho had no mercy to show his wretched victims, he waved his hand to the executioners, who, at that sign, entirely changed their mode of operation, and now the gentle fanning was replaced by a severe downright flogging. The blows, laid on with the full strength of the sailors, rained down upon the bare bodies of the tortured wretches, their skin resounded under the pattering of the leaves, which, less barbarous than the men who wielded them, began to tear and fly from their stems. As soon as that flogging commenced, the prisoners no longer moaned, they roared, they yelled, they howled with anguish. It was the cry of a wild beast wounded to death, which gathers up its remaining strength for one dying roar. The limbs of the miserable men now not only shrank and writhed; but with the convulsive energy which only such extremity of torture could lend, they clasped with their legs the smooth trunks of the trees, they seemed to try and sink into them and bury themselves in the wood. It was an awful spectacle, and yet, strange to say, no wounds could be seen, no contusions, no livid spots even; nothing at all in fact to account for such unheard-of suffering. The skin only looked somewhat puffy, somewhat red and inflamed, and covered with very small blisters. The wounds which the bodies of the victims bore were serious enough, it is true; but they had nothing to do with the leaves of the terrible nettle. In their almost superhuman efforts to burst their bonds, and in their frantic contortions, the sufferers had forced the ropes into the flesh, and here and there the strands had cut their way to the bone, so that streams of blood were pouring along their arms, along their thighs and loins, and were forming broad red spots on the soft slippery soil. That anguish must have been acute enough in itself; but it was nothing compared to the torture occasioned by the leaves of the devil-thistle. At length the instruments of torture had become well nigh stripped, there was left in fact only the bare twigs, on which here and there a few tattered leaves were still dangling, the poisonous leaves lay scattered in all directions, faded, torn, and shapeless about the feet of the sufferers. But, even then, Lim Ho did not think of causing the torture to cease, he seemed to be bent on utterly destroying his victims. He ordered the men to stop for a few moments. It was not because he felt any pity. Not at all, he merely caused the half dead bodies to be sprinkled with salt water, which, if possible, augmented the torments they endured. The monster was, in fact, on the point of resuming his inhuman flogging, when suddenly a cry was raised, "The police, the police!" In furious haste Lim Ho and his assistants flew up to the tortured Chinamen. In a moment they had severed the cords which bound them to the trees, and the next instant they were dragging the wretches who were curling and twisting in their agony along the rough path which led to the landing-place where their boat lay moored. Two of Lim Ho's men would have performed the same office for Ardjan, but the shouts of the rescuing party became louder every instant, the men were stricken with panic, took to their heels, and with all speed rejoined their retreating comrades. They got to the boat just in time, for they had no sooner got into her, before five or six policemen led on by Dalima and closely followed by a crowd of people came to the spot. "Allah," exclaimed the young girl as she caught sight of Ardjan, who was still tied up to the tree, moaning with pain, and whose almost lifeless body was hanging like a sack in the somewhat slackened ropes; "Allah, what in the world have they done to him!" In a moment the unfortunate man was surrounded, his bonds were severed, and he was laid down gently on a mat which somebody had run to fetch from the little watch-house. But he could not utter a word. He yelled with pain, and rolled about on the ground writhing like a crushed worm. "Oh, my God!" he moaned most piteously, "I am in pain! in pain!" "Where is the pain?" cried Dalima, as she sat crouching down beside him. "It is the kamadoog," the sufferer managed to say between his sobs of anguish. "The kamadoog!" cried the bystanders in horror. It was plain enough now. One of the spectators had taken up a few torn leaves, and at once recognised the terrible nettle. Every man in the crowd turned pale with horror. And truly the kamadoog is a dreadful plant. The slightest contact with its formidable leaves occasions a violent itching, painful as a severe burn; and, when used as an instrument of torture, it causes the most intolerable suffering, for at least seven days; it makes the limbs stiffen, and produces a burning fever, which not unfrequently ends in the most painful death. "Has anyone here any 'sirihkalk?'" (chalk made of sea-shells) cried Dalima. Some few of the bystanders had with them the "sirih," which they are fond of chewing. They unwrapped the sirih-leaf in which were the pinang-nut, the chalk, and the tobacco, which form this highly-prized chew, and gave the chalk to the girl, who hastened to anoint the sufferer with the paste-like alkali. But, unfortunately, so great was the surface which had been exposed to the stroke of the hairy leaves, that the supply of "sirih-chalk" was altogether inadequate, and only a very small portion of the blisters could be treated with the remedy. Dalima was in despair. There was nothing else for it but to carry Ardjan into the hut, which afforded a shelter from the burning sun. Then some of the men hurried away to fetch a supply of oil and chalk, which they hoped would mitigate the pain, and check the fever. By evening, if all were well, Ardjan might perhaps have so far recovered as to bear the fatigue of being moved to more convenient quarters. While these remedies were being applied to poor Ardjan, the boat in which Lim Ho had put off, was being rowed past the djaga monjet, and was getting out of the little bay. The policemen stood on the shore calling to the crew to come back; but no one took the slightest notice of their summons, and, as they had no firearms with them to enforce obedience, the only reply they got was a derisive cheer, and a shout of defiance. As he rowed by the djaga monjet, Lim Ho had plainly recognised Dalima, who, actively employed in assisting her tortured lover, was running about, in and out, here and there. The sight of her literally maddened the brutal Chinaman; he was on the point of ordering his boat's crew to return and row to land. But, in another instant, he came to himself, and recovered his reason. It would indeed have been the act of a madman to try and carry off the girl just then. He knew that he could place great dependence upon the power of his gold; but yet, in full daylight, in the very face of all those people, he felt he could hardly try its influence upon the native police. So he could only shake his fist in impotent rage, and the word to return remained unspoken. The boat swiftly glided out of the Moeara Tjatjing, and at once made for the Kiem Ping Hin, which was already loosening her sails, and waiting impatiently for the return of her boat's crew. As they mounted the deck, Captain Awal Boep Said came up to report to Lim Ho that the smoke of a steamer could just be seen on the horizon. "Probably," he added, "it is the Matamata, she was here yesterday." "Those white blockheads," muttered Lim Ho, with a scornful laugh. "At night they have their coloured lights up, and we can tell them miles away. By day they take care to send up a cloud of smoke which no one can mistake. I will bet they have not discovered us yet, while we have had our eye on her ever so long ago." "It is the guard-ship, sir, likely enough. What are your orders?" said the captain. "The wind has risen somewhat with the sun," replied Lim Ho. "Set sail at once, and steer for Bali." A quarter of an hour later, the Kiem Ping Hin was gracefully heeling over to the freshening breeze, and, under full sail, was flying to the eastward. When, much later on, the Matamata came to the Moeara Tjatjing, the smuggler, an excellent sailing craft, was on the horizon; she was nothing more than a faint white speck on the deep blue sea. The clumsy old guard-ship, which, under favourable circumstances, could not make more than six knots, and might perhaps do eight knots under extra pressure, had not the smallest chance of overtaking the rakish schooner, running eleven knots before the breeze. In less than an hour, the vessels were out of sight of one another altogether. Meanwhile, what had befallen Dalima that she thus managed to come up at the right moment of time to rescue Ardjan from compulsory exile? As soon as she had succeeded in gnawing through the rope which tied her wrists, no very difficult task for her sharp white teeth--she plucked asunder the knots by which her feet were confined. That did not take long, and with a gesture of contempt she flung the cords aside and was hastening from the spot. For a moment or two, however, she stood still, considering whether she ought not to go straight to the djaga monjet, perhaps she might be of some service to Ardjan. At that moment, however, she caught the voices of the two Chinamen who were coming down the pathway in quest of her. This at once brought her to a decision and thoroughly terrified she ran off at the top of her speed in the opposite direction. As she was speeding along she made up her mind to go straight to her mistress and implore her aid. But, the question was, would she listen to her story, would she help her? Well, if she would not, then she would go to the Resident, he surely could not refuse to hear her. Thus, like a hunted roe she flew along, the thick forest had no terrors for her, she was a true child of Nature and knew her road well, and so, in a few seconds, she had disappeared among the tangled roots of the mangrove. It was in the early morning that she reached the grounds of the house. The first thing she saw under the half open verandah or "pandoppo" was the Resident's daughter. Her young mistress was quite alone, she was lying back in a comfortable rocking-chair and was reading a book in which she seemed wholly absorbed. So Dalima glided very softly into the pandoppo and, without making the least sound, with a graceful motion seated herself cross-legged on the floor close to the maiden who continued gently rocking herself as she read. "Nana," said Dalima in the softest whisper which sounded like a gentle sigh, "Nana!" At the sound the young girl gave a sudden start, she dropped her book and springing up from her seat, "Siapa ada?" (who is there) she cried half in terror, half in surprise. The daughter of the Resident stood there for a few moments in the rays of the early sun, a perfect picture of loveliness. Her forehead of the purest ivory-white was surrounded by a rich mass of glossy dark-brown curls, her nose and chin might have served as models to a sculptor. But, though the features were faultlessly regular, the whole face was full of animation and of life. The lips of the rosiest red and of exquisite form resembled a freshly opened rosebud, the cheeks were tinged with the glow of health and the large deep-brown eyes were full of tenderness and plainly spoke of a gentle and loving disposition within. The neck and bust of the young girl were modestly veiled under the folds of a tastefully arranged "Kabaja" which, however, could not hide the well-filled and perfectly rounded form it strove to conceal. "Who is there?" she had cried as startled she had sprung up from her chair. "It is I, Nana," whispered Dalima in a scarcely audible voice. The fair young girl, whom we have tried faintly to depict to the reader, was called Anna. In ordinary conversation the servants usually addressed her as "Nonna" (Miss). But Dalima, either by reason of her youth or it may be because she was shy and gentle of nature, was Anna's special favourite and enjoyed certain privileges with her young mistress over the other servants; she was indeed looked upon in the light of a companion, and so she always used to call her "Nonna Anna" which was first contracted into "Nonanna," and then became simply "Nana." Thus the reader will perceive that the name "Nana" has nothing whatever in common with Zola's disgusting production, nor yet with the inhuman monster who made himself so sadly notorious at Cawnpore. At the words "It is I, Nana," Anna looked down and no sooner saw Dalima seated at her feet than she recovered from her scare. She offered to raise the maiden who, however, maintained her position on the floor of the verandah. "You here, Dalima," cried she; "where in the world have you been? Mamma is dreadfully angry with you. Where have you come from?" "Nana," she replied, "I have been carried off!" "By whom?" asked Anna. "By some of Lim Ho's men," said Dalima. "Lim Ho?" cried Anna now really frightened, "Lim Ho? What, have you been in his power?" "Yes I have," said the young girl. "What, all night?" "No," replied Dalima, "No, not all night; Allah has been my protection and--" "So, so! That gadabout has come home at last, has she?" cried a voice which caused both the girls to start with terror. It was Anna's mother, who just then came into the pandoppo without having been noticed either by her daughter or by Dalima. She came straight from her bathroom as was evident from the rich black hair which flowed waving down her back, and had completely wetted the kabaja she wore, while she had covered her neck and shoulders with a bathing-towel of the finest material. Bending her head backwards she drew the towel from under her hair and handed it to the nènèh (old Javanese woman) who followed her, with the order to go and dry it immediately. Madam Laurentia van Gulpendam, whose maiden name was Termolen, was a stately matron, fully thirty-five years of age, and was still extremely beautiful. Years and maternity had not made much impression upon her charms. She had but one child, Anna, and fearing that the natural duties of a mother might impair her beauty, she had confided her daughter to the care of a nurse. In spite, however, of all precautions, the influence of time was now beginning to make itself felt, and though it could not be denied that Laurentia carried the load of years proudly enough, yet lately she had found the necessity of bringing certain powders and certain mysterious toilette-confections into requisition, to help out the somewhat fading complexion and (to use an elegant expression of her husband who had had something to do with the sea, and was always interlarding his conversation with nautical terms) to caulk here and there an indiscreet, and too obtrusive wrinkle. Here and there also a silver thread might have been detected among the wealth of jet-black hair, had not the Nènèh Wong Toewâ, been anxiously watchful, and at its very first appearance plucked out the traitor. The finely formed lips also had begun to lose somewhat of their bright carnation; and the corners of the mouth were beginning to droop. But for these tokens of advancing age also, the nènèh was on the watch. For preserving the mouth she had a sourish kind of fluid prepared from the red ant which she used as "vinaigre de toilette," and for the wrinkles she had an ointment made of the fat of lizards, in which when boiling hot sundry scorpions and centipedes had met a painful death. But Nènèh Wong Toewâ was moreover an old, experienced doctoress, and she had many other wonderful secrets in her possession which she placed at the disposal of her mistress; and if the stately Laurentia still kept her lawful lord and master enthralled by her charms,--if the world around was still bound to confess that she was a fine woman,--if her waist, her shoulders, her bosom did still, in a ball-room, attract the greedy, admiring eyes of the men, and awakened envy among the ladies--then to Wong Toewâ a great share of these much coveted honours was due, and often from behind a screen the old crone would stand unobserved and enjoy the triumph of her mistress, and delight in the homage which followed her wherever she went. Laurentia Termolen was the daughter of a former resident, and was an exceedingly handsome and agreeable girl when, at the tender age of sixteen, she became the wife of Mr. van Gulpendam who, at that time, was controller of the Home Department, and her father's right hand. Though born in India she was of European parents, both on the mother's and father's side: and she had had the advantage of an excellent education, that is to say, large sums of money had been lavishly spent upon her. She had had the very best masters in language, in music, in dancing, &c., she had even been sent to Holland to receive the finishing touches. Now, under ordinary circumstances, she might--nay she would have developed into an excellent woman; but unfortunately for her, these ordinary and favourable circumstances were wanting. For both papa and mamma were people of inordinate ambition, and had, moreover, or perhaps in consequence of that ambition, one ruling passion, the love of display. They wanted to make a great figure in their little world, and to keep up an immense amount of outward show. But all this cost money, much money, very much money, and the means whereby they sought to obtain the necessary dross, were not always such as would bear honest scrutiny. From her earliest childhood, Laurentia had heard snatches of conversation, later on she had been present at incidents, and had witnessed family quarrels, in which dishonesty and prodigality strove for the mastery. Thus her young mind had, of necessity, been poisoned, and germs of corruption had been planted within her which were sure to bring forth the most lamentable results. If now, in Holland, she had but fallen into good hands, all this might, to a great extent at least, have been remedied, and the poisonous germs within her might perhaps have been stifled or their growth might have been checked. But hers had been the case of so many Indian-born children. She had always been looked upon as an object of financial speculation, she had always been considered as a kind of gold mine which her parents intended thoroughly to work and make the most of. Thus a mere outward veneer of good manners and a mare "jargon de bon ton" were thought amply sufficient; and of true education and moral development there had, with her, never been any question at all. Now, had but van Gulpendam been the right man for it, he might even at the time of their marriage have made a total change in the disposition of the young girl entrusted to his care. But van Gulpendam was a man who had gone to India merely to make his fortune, and had but one object, namely, to return as soon as possible, and especially as rich as possible, to his own country. He was therefore the very last man to set an example of honesty and purity, and his intimacy with the Termolens had done nothing to counteract the evil that was in him. Money-making was his only passion, and his union with fair Laurentia had only served to make that sordid principle strike deeper roots into his heart. After her marriage Laurentia's duty was to follow her husband, who took good care to obtain from his father-in-law none but places in the interior and most remote parts of the island. Thus he had become controller at Brandowo; after that, Assistant Resident at Bandjar Oetara; both of these places where hardly a single European could be found, and where consequently no one could watch the dodges and tricks of the official household. How he had managed to be on the most excellent terms with the Regent who exacted taxes in kind, and at the same time also had the most cordial relations with the representatives of the opium farmers, who found it necessary to throw dust into the eyes of the Dutch authorities; and how she had lent out money to the natives on the most exorbitant interest for which she did not scruple to take, as securities, valuable articles such as jewels and heirlooms, all these dirty transactions had remained a profound secret and had not prevented van Gulpendam from rising to the position of full Resident. This long isolation had, moreover, the most pernicious effect upon his grasping character, and upon the no less ambitious disposition of his young wife. By continual contact with none but inferiors who bowed down to them to the very ground, the bearing of Laurentia had grown to be intolerably arrogant. She had become imperious woman personified, and this grave blemish in her character was so entirely in harmony with her outward appearance, that when she had to appear in public on official occasions in the full dignity of "Resident's wife" she might have served as model for a Juno. Such then was the mother of Anna van Gulpendam, as she suddenly stalked into the pandoppo and at the sight of Dalima straightway fired up and cried out: "So! has that slut come in again?" "Now then," she continued in her wrath, "tell me, you young monkey, where have you been? You have been out, I'll be bound, dragging about with that lover of yours!" "Pardon, madam!" cried the young girl. "I did not run away. I did not indeed!" "And you did not leave master Leo running about by himself in the garden?" "I was carried off, madam," said the young girl. "Carried off!" cried Mrs. van Gulpendam scornfully, "by whom, pray?" "By two strange Chinamen," replied Dalima. "How did that come to pass?" asked her mistress. Thereupon Dalima gave her mistress a detailed account of her forcible abduction by Ong Kwat, of which we have made mention above. We ought here to add that "sienjo Leo" just mentioned was the son of the Resident's brother, and that the boy had been staying for a considerable time at the residence, his father at that time having his home at Billiton. "And where did they take you to?" enquired Mrs. van Gulpendam. There was in her voice some little emotion, called forth no doubt by the young girl's graphic description. "They took me on board a big ship," said Dalima. "Whose ship was that?" "I don't know," replied Dalima. "I had not, however, been on board long before Lim Ho came--" "Lim Ho," cried Mrs. van Gulpendam now thoroughly roused!--"Lim Ho, the son of the rich opium farmer!" "That is the man," replied Dalima trembling as in utter confusion she still was crouching at the feet of her Nonna Anna. A very peculiar smile began to play upon Mrs. van Gulpendam's lips, and a very peculiar fire began to sparkle in her eyes. "Anna," said she to her daughter, "I wish you would just go and ask your father if he would like a cup of coffee, and, if he does, get it him; will you?" The young girl at once took the hint and disappeared. As soon as she was gone Laurentia in feverish haste and with heaving bosom turned to Dalima and said: "Well, what then?" Oh! poor Dalima understood that look so well, and little as she knew of the world she knew so well why the "nonna" had been sent away. She repressed her emotion however, and calmly enough she said: "Lim Ho went to smoke opium." "Of course, of course," said Laurentia, huskily, "of course he went to smoke opium, before--" It is utterly impossible to convey in words any idea of the expression on the face of Laurentia van Gulpendam as she allowed the word "before" to slip from her lips. Those wildly gleaming eyes, that projecting slightly quivering jaw, those half-open lips which allowed the breath to pass with a slightly hissing sound, and that full bosom heaving convulsively under the wet kabaja--all these were the visible signs of passion raging unrestrained within. That face betrayed the whole story, aye and even betrayed her regret that van Gulpendam did not smoke opium. "Well," she said at length, after having for a few moments stared at Dalima; "well, and what happened then?" "Nothing happened at all," was Dalima's quiet reply. "Nothing," cried Laurentia; "that's a lie! Lim Ho would have had you carried to his ship merely to--" "Before he had done smoking," hastily interposed Dalima, "I was rescued." "Rescued! rescued! By whom?" "By Ardjan," replied the girl, trembling more violently than before. "By Ardjan? by Ardjan?" shouted her mistress. "Oh! you filthy creature. Now I see it all. Of course you ran away from 'master Leo' to go and have a game with your Ardjan, and now you want to put it all upon Lim Ho. Wait a bit, I will-- "Gulpendam!" she shouted, "Gulpenda-a-m!" So shrill and so sharp sounded her voice as she thus called for her husband, that a couple of servants came rushing in thinking something terrible must have happened. "Call your master!" she cried to them. "Pardon, madam, pardon!" cried poor Dalima in wailing tones. "No, no," said her mistress, "no pardon for a creature like you." CHAPTER IV. THE PLOT THICKENS. Mr. van Gulpendam came rushing in. Stately and dignified as was the "Kandjeng toean Residèn" (High and mighty Lord Resident), yet when fair Laurentia called in that tone of voice he became briskness personified. A wicked world, indeed, whispered that on such occasions he dared not for his life be one whit less nimble. The resident was, like his fair spouse, in undress; he had on only a pair of pyjamas and a "Kabaja," and in this airy costume was seated in the outer fore-gallery of the spacious residence, engaged in leisurely sipping his coffee and enjoying his morning cigar, when the voice of his wife was heard re-echoing through the house: "Gulpendam, Gulpenda-am!" As if electrified, at the last long drawn-out syllable, van Gulpendam flew up out of his rocking-chair, and that with such violence and speed, that he drove the thing flying away several feet behind him. "Man, the umbrella, quickly!" he roared. Besides the habitual and constant use of nautical terms to which we have already alluded, van Gulpendam had another weakness; he would always insist upon having the emblem of his authority, the pajoeng, (umbrella) close by his side. In the very entrance of the official mansion four of these umbrellas were placed in a stand by the chair which the Lord Resident was wont to occupy. In his private office another pajoeng stood close by his writing desk; in his bedroom yet another was conspicuous at the head of the residential bed-stead. Thieves might break in during the night, such was his argument, and at the majesty of the mighty pajoeng would recoil in horror. To that argument Laurentia, imperious though she was, had had to bow, and had been forced to suffer the emblem of her lord's supremacy in the inmost sanctuary of her bed-chamber; but in the pandoppo where, in her capacity of mistress of the house, she was determined to rule supreme--no pajoeng was ever allowed to intrude. If the Resident wished to go out for a walk then it was always "Man, the umbrella!" and the umbrella and the cigar-case and the lighted slow match obediently followed his footsteps. Sometimes when the great man would cool his forehead in the breeze, the servant obsequiously carried the official gold-laced cap--reverently it was carried behind him as a priest might bear some holy relic. As van Gulpendam made his appearance in the pandoppo he was greeted with the words, somewhat sternly uttered: "What business has that pajoeng here? You know I won't have the thing in this place." And turning very sharply upon the unhappy attendant, Laurentia cried: "Back with you, away, quick!" and a single look from the master caused the man to disappear with his umbrella faster, indeed, than he had entered. "I say," said Mrs. van Gulpendam, addressing her husband, "Dalima has come back. I want you just to guess where that good-for-nothing creature has been to." "What is the use of my trying to guess?" replied the husband. "She has no doubt dropped anchor somewhere in the dessa." "In the dessa," scornfully exclaimed the lady, "oh, no doubt. Not a bit of it--she has been on the tramp with that Ardjan of her's." "Pardon, madam!" cried the poor girl, who understood Dutch quite well enough not to lose a syllable of her mistress's words. "And now," Laurentia went on, all in a breath, "now she has came home with quite a romantic tale. She pretends that she has been carried off, forsooth, by Lim Ho, and that she has passed the night in a ship. Just fancy that." At the name of Lim Ho, and at the mention of the word "ship," the Resident pricked his ears. The captain of the Matamata, the guardship, had sent in a report in which he had said that the Kiem Ping Hin had been cruising about the coast. That schooner-brig belonged to the opium farmer, who was shrewdly suspected of being in close league with the opium smugglers. Hence the attention of the Resident was so suddenly arrested. "What ship?" asked van Gulpendam, somewhat hastily. "How should I know what ship?" replied his wife. "You had better ask that wretched girl." "Pardon, madam!" cried Dalima, as she was still cowering in great terror on the floor of the pandoppo. "Come, Dalima," said van Gulpendam, with some kindness in his voice, "come now, my girl, just tell us what has really happened to you." "Allah, master, they have caught Ardjan. Have pity!" "They have caught Ardjan, you say," interrupted van Gulpendam, "who have caught him?" "Babah Than Khan and babah Liem King," replied the girl, weeping bitterly. "Oh ho," muttered her master to himself, and then turning to the girl again, he said, aloud, "Where did they lay hands on him?" "In the Moeara Tjatjing, toean," was the reply. "In the Moeara Tjatjing," said van Gulpendam, musingly; "what brought him there, I wonder?" "He had just escaped with me," sobbed Dalima. "That's it, now what did I tell you!" almost shrieked Laurentia. "From the ship," added poor Dalima, between her sobs. "Aye, no doubt!" cried her mistress. "Run away from this house. That is nearer the truth!" "For goodness sake," said the Resident, apart to his wife, "let the girl get under weigh, or else we shall never get to land," and turning to Dalima, he said: "Now come, first of all, let us hear how you got on board the ship." Thereupon, the poor girl, still seated cross-legged on the floor, began to tell her master all that had befallen her from the time of her forcible abduction out of his garden, to the moment that she had succeeded in gnawing through the ropes which bound her, and had taken to headlong flight. Just as the girl was beginning her tale, Anna had quietly re-entered the pandoppo, and thus heard the whole story. "Well," said the Resident, when Dalima had ended the story of her woes. "Well, that is a curious tale certainly; and now what about Ardjan--did you leave him behind you at the Moeara Tjatjing?" "Why, sir," replied Dalima, "he could not move, he was tied hand and foot when the two Chinamen carried him off on the pole. They could not, however, have taken him very far; for scarcely had I got my feet free, before I saw their lanterns shining between the trees, and heard their voices approaching. Had it been light enough they must have seen me running away, and most probably I should never have got clear of them at all." "Then you suppose Ardjan is still there?" asked her master, somewhat eagerly. "That I cannot say, toean," replied Dalima. "I overheard them saying to each other that they intended first to take Ardjan to the djaga monjet, and then come back and fetch me." "To the djaga monjet," hastily cried van Gulpendam. "Man! man!" "If I were you," said his wife, as bitterly as she could, "I would this time leave the pajoeng behind." But without taking the slightest notice of the amiable remark, the Resident turned to the servant, who had appeared at his call, and said: "Man, you will go at once with a couple of your mates to the Moeara Tjatjing. As you go you are to rouse the people of the neighbouring dessas, and take as many of them with you as you think you will require to help you, and then you will try and arrest Ardjan the Javanese. Baboe Dalima there will show you the way." "Oh, you believe the girl's story then?" contemptuously asked Laurentia. "Well, not all of it perhaps," replied her husband, "but anyhow it is of the utmost importance that the matter should be cleared up." And turning to his servant, he went on: "You carry out my orders to the letter; do you hear? And now go, and take Dalima with you." When both had disappeared, van Gulpendam said in a whisper to his wife: "At the bottom of all this mystery, depend upon it, there is some opium-scandal. Whenever Lim Ho's name is mixed up in anything, there is something going on that must not see the light; and--if my soundings are correct--then--the rich papa will have to pay the piper." These words the Resident accompanied with a most expressive gesture, moving his thumb and fore-finger as a man who is counting down money. Mrs. van Gulpendam tried to stop him by looking significantly at her daughter Anna. "Oh, come, come," laughed the husband, "she is no longer a baby. When you were her age you had seen a good deal more than that at your parents'. She must by degrees get to understand where all the housekeeping-money comes from." And drawing his daughter to him, he said to her, as he patted her smooth cheek, "I am right, Anna, am I not? When by-and-bye you are married, you will like to live in a fine house like this, you will like to have your jewels like your mother, you will want fine dresses, elegant carriages, the best and most thorough-bred horses, eh?" "Well, my dear father," replied the fair girl with a blush and a most bewitching smile, "I suppose every girl would; however, I am not particularly fond of all these things." "Oh, no," interrupted the Resident with a laugh, "we know all about that. All girls talk just as you do when they are your age. It is always the same thing, 'Beauty when unadorned &c., &c.' But," he continued, "all that sentiment does not last very long; in time women begin to see that the vital question is to appear as beautiful as possible. And now, my girl, you run away, and go and have a look to my breakfast; I have ordered it to be laid in the verandah and I have asked my secretary van Nes to come and have it with me. You know he is a man who knows what is good--so mind you look to the honour of the galley." When his daughter had left the pandoppo to do her father's bidding, he turned to his wife and said: "Now, my dear Laurentia, just you listen to me. In a day or two I have to pay our bill to John Pryce of Batavia, it comes to 20,000 guilders, as you know, and of that sum I haven't got the first thousand together yet. Now, if I am right about this Lim Ho business, why then you will see, we shall have fair weather enough for our money-question; oh yes, and we shall log a good bit more than that--we shall have a nice little sum in the locker after the bill is paid--that may come in handy--what do you say, eh?" "Of course," replied his wife thoughtfully, "but then that running away of Dalima, I don't like--" "Now, now," cried her husband, "just you wait a bit, don't be in a hurry, don't go running off the stocks too fast! If the girl's yarn be true, then--yes--I am afraid that Lim Ho has been fishing behind the net. And yet, when I come to look at it that is not so bad for us either. It will only make him clap on more sail and--if we can only keep our helm steady, then that little job may turn out a very nice little breeze for us. A Chinaman, you know, will go far--aye he will go very far to gratify his passions. So you just let me brace up, and mind don't you go taking the wind out of my sails." It was growing rather late in the evening--about half past seven--when the Oppas, who had been sent out, returned and reported to his master that, with Dalima's help, he had found Ardjan. The news came to Mr. van Gulpendam just after he had risen from table, and was sitting with his wife and daughter in the cool front gallery of the sumptuous Residential mansion. They were awaiting the arrival of some friends and acquaintances who were, on that evening, to partake of the family's friendly and sociable hospitality. Yes--we use the words friendly and sociable hospitality; for the van Gulpendams, with all their faults, were very hospitable, and could be most friendly and sociable. Of course their intense worldliness and love of display had a great deal to do with their hospitality; but it was so tempered by the bon-ton of both host and hostess that, on such evenings as this, their ostentation was hardly, if at all, perceptible. This was to be a friendly and sociable evening. On such evenings not every one had the entrée of the Residence; they were, in fact, quite different from the grand official receptions. These formal receptions took place regularly, once a week, on Wednesday. Then lower officials, subaltern officers, leading men of commerce, planters, strangers, in one word mere official visitors were received. On these grand occasions the Lord Resident would appear in state, clad in light-blue cloth coat with silver buttons, in white cashmere trousers, in all the splendour, in short, which his high office could shed upon poor mortal man. Then also his handsome wife decked out in all her jewellery would flaunt about like a gorgeous peacock. But at such receptions not a gleam, not a vestige of friendliness or sociability could be discovered within the walls of the house. Then on the one side, there was nothing but pride, conceit and arrogance, and, on the other, all was humility and obsequious cringing with here and there a little touch of half-concealed mockery. But the ordinary evening gatherings were for intimate friends and highly-placed officials who, by reason of their position or wealth, could venture familiarly to approach the Residential throne. Invitations there were none; but certain dignitaries were sure to put in an appearance, such as the Commandant of the garrison who was a Colonel at least, the President of the High Court of Justice, the Chief of the Medical Staff, the President of the Local Board of Trade, and such like. All these good people came without ceremony, without compliment, stood and chatted for a moment or two with Mrs. van Gulpendam or said a few pretty things to her fair daughter, shook hands with the Resident in a friendly way, talked over the bits of news of the day and then settled down at the little card-tables for a quiet game. As a rule Mrs. van Gulpendam would take a hand, and, it must be said, that she was by no means amongst the least lucky of the players, especially when, towards the end of the evening, the play began to run rather high. Of this love of play dear little Anna used to make excellent use. As soon as she had seen the guests properly attended to, she would slip away indoors, take her seat at her piano, and there would give herself up to the full enjoyment of Chopin or Beethoven or Mozart, whose masterpieces the young girl revelled in and would study with the enthusiasm of a born musician. Such was to be this evening's programme, though as the sequel will show, the music was to serve quite another purpose. When the "Oppas" had, in minute detail, reported all he had learnt to know about poor Ardjan, and how he had conveyed the Javanese who was in a burning fever, to the hospital to be there further taken care of--the countenance of his chief brightened up wonderfully. "The deuce, the deuce," he muttered between his teeth, "that bit of a joke with the devil-nettle may come to cost Lim Ho's worthy papa a pretty penny!" From a distance Mrs. van Gulpendam was eagerly watching the emotions which were pretty clearly reflected on her husband's countenance. But the good humour of the Resident rose to absolute satisfaction when the man went on reporting to him that his people, with the assistance of the inhabitants of the dessa, had discovered certain small casks and tins carefully stowed away in the dense underwood, and which, in all probability, contained opium. "Who, do you say, found these things?" asked the Resident. "Oh!" said the Oppas, "all of us." "What," fell in van Gulpendam, somewhat taken aback, "did the dessa folk see them as well as you?" "Engèh (yes), Kandjeng toean," replied the man, who was seated cross-legged in front of his master. The reply evidently did not please his excellency at all, and his displeasure was plainly reflected in his face. "And where did you make this haul?" he continued. "Have you brought it along with you?" "Pardon me, Kandjeng toean," replied the Oppas, "I had the things taken to the chief inspector of police." "Stupid ass!" muttered van Gulpendam almost inaudibly. "Engèh, Kandjeng toean," was the stolid reply--the man did not understand the epithet. The word "Engèh" is always in the mouth of a Javanese whenever he addresses a European. He will give that answer even when he has not understood a word of what has been said to him, and it must not be taken to express any opinion of his own, but it is simply a meaningless and polite kind of consent to whatever his superior may choose to say to him. Van Gulpendam thoroughly knew the Javanese character, and was therefore not the least surprised at his man's answer. "Go," said he, "to the inspector and tell him that I want him to come to me at once." The servant still retaining his posture, pushed himself backward for a few paces, then sprang up and hurried off to carry out his master's order. A few moments later, after the usual greetings and compliments had been exchanged, the conversation became general. Anna seized this opportunity, and quietly slipped away, scarcely noticed by any one present. Dalima, she knew, had returned, and she was full of curiosity to hear what had become of Ardjan. She had managed to overhear a few scraps of her father's conversation with the "Oppas," but had not been able to get at the truth of the story. When she reached the pandoppo she found Dalima there, seated, cross-legged as usual, but with tears streaming down her cheeks. "What in the world has happened to you, Dalima?" cried she. "Do tell us all about it." "O Nana," cried the poor girl, "they have abused my Ardjan so shamefully!" And thereupon she told her mistress in what a pitiable state she had found her lover. "Oh," she sobbed, "if I could have got there a little sooner!" "But, who has treated him so dreadfully?" cried Anna full of sympathy. "Lim Ho," replied Dalima. "Lim Ho?" said Anna. "Why, what was he doing there?" "That I can't tell you," replied the girl. "All I can say is that I recognised him quite plainly as he was rowed past the djaga monjet 'out of the Moeara Tjatjing.'" "Oh, you may have been mistaken, Dalima," said her young mistress. "Mistaken, Nana! Oh no," replied the girl. "I could see him clench his fist in anger when he caught sight of me. I feel sure, indeed, he would have put back had he dared; and the few words Ardjan could speak have made me certain it was he." "But," asked Anna, "what could have induced him to torture the poor fellow so unmercifully with the kamadoog?" "I am sure I don't know," said Dalima, colouring; "perhaps it was because Ardjan is my sweetheart; it may be because he rescued me from the Kiem Ping Hin. Oh, dearest Nana," continued the poor girl, with a flood of tears, "poor dear Ardjan has gone mad, he does nothing but rave." "And where is he now?" asked Anna, striving to quiet the sobbing girl. "He is in the hospital; the police took him there after they had gone to fetch the inspector." "The inspector?" cried Anna. "What had he to do with it?" "The men took some small casks and some tins which they had found, to his house," was Dalima's reply. "Opium!" exclaimed Anna, now really frightened. "Where did they find the horrid stuff?" "They found it close to the hut where Ardjan was tortured." "Close to the hut, you say," cried Anna. "They found it at the same time that they discovered Ardjan?" "Yes, Na," faltered Dalima, scarcely audibly. For a moment the fair girl stood as if lost in thought. "I hope it will not compromise poor Ardjan," said she, musingly, and then, having collected her thoughts, she again turned to Dalima, and said: "Were you quite alone with Ardjan when you left the ship in the djoekoeng?" "Quite alone, Nana." "You are sure, there was nothing in the djoekoeng when you got into her? Now think well." "Quite sure, Nana, nothing whatever," replied Dalima. "How could there be? We slid along a bit of rope into the boat, while the storm was howling all round us, and glad enough we were to get out of the ship and away from her as soon as possible." Nonna Anna reflected for a few moments. Then she started as if a sudden thought had struck her, ran into her own room, which adjoined the pandoppo, and soon returned carrying with her a writing case. She put it down before one of the lamps which were burning there, and hurriedly scribbled a little note. When she had sealed it, she handed it to the maid, and said: "Now, Dalima, listen to me. Do you really love Ardjan, and are you anxious to save him?" "Oh, Nana," cried the poor girl, ready again to burst into tears; "how can you ask that?" "Very well," said Anna, quietly, "then take this note to Mr. van Nerekool, you understand?" "Oh yes, I know," cried the girl; "he lives in Aboe Street close by the Catholic Church. But it is so far away, and it is now so late." "Then you had better tell Sodikromo, the gardener's boy, to go with you," said Anna. "You can take a 'sâdos' (dos-à-dos) and you will soon be there and back--So now quick--make haste." It did not take Sodikromo long to get the vehicle ready, and soon he and Dalima were on their way with the nonna's message. While this was going on in the pandoppo, Mr. and Mrs. van Gulpendam were receiving their guests, who kept on gradually arriving, with the courtesy and suavity they could so well put on. "Well, that is kind of you, colonel, I call it really very kind of you to remain faithful to our little party," said Laurentia to a gentleman who had just come in. He was in plain clothes; but his bearing and his white hair closely clipped and his bristling moustache plainly proclaimed him a soldier. "And why, madam," replied he, "what may have led you to suppose that I would have denied myself the pleasure of presenting myself here to-night?" "Van Gulpendam has told me," replied the hostess, "that there has been very ugly news from Atjeh, and that a considerable part of our garrison would have to leave. So I took it for granted that you would be much too busy to--" "Do what, madam?" said the colonel, smiling. "To come and take my hand here as usual?" "By no means, I can assure you that a good deal would have to happen before I would forego the pleasure of your charming society. Oh, no," he continued, "I have given my orders--the rest, the chief of my staff will see to." "And you," said Laurentia, turning to another of her newly-arrived guests, "have not these sad tidings given you a great deal to do? A very large medical staff will have to accompany the expedition--at least, as member of the Red Cross I have received some such intimation from Batavia." "No, madam," replied the gentleman thus addressed, who was chief medical officer at Santjoemeh. "I have not to complain of overwork. Every provision for our expedition to Atjeh has been made and I need not trouble my head about it any more. But, for all that, I can assure you that I was in real danger of being obliged to miss your pleasant party this evening." "Indeed," said Laurentia, with much assumed interest, "I hope there is no case of serious illness among our friends, doctor?" "I am glad to say there is not, madam," replied the doctor. "But, as I was at my dinner this afternoon, the young surgeon on duty at the hospital came running in to tell me that I was urgently wanted. A young native, he said, had been brought in by the police, who was in a most dreadful condition, suffering from something which completely puzzled him. His diagnostica was altogether at fault." "His--what was at fault, did you say, doctor?" enquired Mrs van Gulpendam. "His diagnostica, madam," replied the surgeon. "That is the name, you know, we give to the science by which we recognize a special form of disease. Well, as the young fellow assured me that the patient was in an extremely critical state--in fact in extremis--I had no choice but to go and see him. You know, dear madam," proceeded the surgeon, sententiously, "a physician's devotion must be that of a priest." "Oh, I know, of course," replied Laurentia, with a slight smile; "but pray go on." "Well," continued the surgeon, "I went all the way to the hospital. And now, just guess what was the matter!--Oh, those young doctors of the new school! The fellow had his mouth full of fine words--of absent diaeresis, of efflorescentia, of formicatio, of hemianthropia, and what not. But he couldn't see with all his brand new science, that he had to do with a very simple--though I must own--a most severe case of urtication." "A severe case of what?" enquired Laurentia. "Why, madam, of urtication," replied the doctor, "the man had undergone, somehow or other, a most severe flogging with nettle-leaves." "Nettle-leaves!" exclaimed van Gulpendam, breaking into the conversation, his interest being thoroughly aroused at the doctor's words. "These things," he continued, "are called in Javanese, I think, Kamadoog--are they not, doctor?" "Precisely so, Resident, you are quite right," was the surgeon's reply. "Pray, doctor, do go on with your story," said van Gulpendam. "Ten knots an hour if you please." "Well," said the doctor, "that foolish young fellow might have let me finish my dinner in peace. There was nothing to be done in the case but what the people of the dessa had done already, the parts most afflicted had to be covered with sirih-chalk and the other parts with oil. It was very simple. The man was, of course, in a burning fever, but I need not have been disturbed for that, there are antifebrilia and antidinika in abundance in store, he might have administered them without calling me in." "And how long," asked van Gulpendam, somewhat eagerly, "do the effects of such an urtication, as you call it, last?" "Oh, that is impossible to say, that depends entirely upon how the nettle has been applied. This patient of ours has had an uncommonly heavy dose of it, and, in my opinion, the fever will last some forty-eight hours. Then, I hope, it will abate, but it will be quite a fortnight before the man is on his legs again." "A fortnight," said van Gulpendam, with a frown. "Why, that is a long time." "Yes," said the surgeon, "it will be quite a fortnight, and then only if all goes well." "And tell me," continued the Resident, "will it leave any serious consequences?" "None whatever, my dear sir. If the patient once gets well over the fever, there will be none." "But surely," insisted van Gulpendam, "there will be scars and the skin will be discoloured." "Certainly not--nothing of the kind," replied the other. "So that," continued the Resident, "after the cure there will be no visible proofs of the treatment he has received?" "There will be none. But, Resident, why all these questions? Perhaps you take some special interest in the man?" "Not I," said van Gulpendam, carelessly, but yet with some confusion. "Why should I? I know nothing about the case, I have heard nothing about it; but I have heard so much of the terrible effects of the Hoekoem Kamadoog that I often have wished to learn something more about it." Other guests were arriving, and so the conversation dropped. After the usual greetings the card-tables were occupied, while Anna was busying herself at the tea-table. Play had, however, scarcely begun before the chief inspector of police was announced. He paid his respects to the lady of the house, interchanged a few words with some of his acquaintance, and then turning to the Resident he said: "I beg your pardon, sir, for thus disturbing you; but the message I received, left me no choice but to intrude myself upon you at once." "Quite right, quite right, Mr. Meidema," said the host, as he rose from his seat and turning to his partners he said: "Gentlemen, you must oblige me by playing a three-handed game for a few minutes, I have urgent business with Mr. Meidema." The two officials entered a side-chamber which opened upon the gallery, and after having carefully shut the door, Mr. van Gulpendam, without preface whatever, said to the inspector: "Mr. Meidema, you have made a considerable capture of opium to-day, I hear." "Yes, Resident," was the reply, "three buttertubs full, and fifteen tins have been delivered into my custody. In the tubs the opium was packed just like butter, one little tub of ten kilos, inside a larger one, and surrounded by coarse salt. The tins contain about five kilos each. The whole amounts to about one and a half 'pikols.'" "So, so," said van Gulpendam, "that is a pretty good haul." "Which are worth," continued Meidema, "I should say, about nine thousand guilders." "How do you make that out?" asked the Resident. "You know Government delivers the raw opium to the farmers at the rate of 30 guilders the kattie. Now, 30 � 150, is, according to my reckoning, no more than four thousand five hundred guilders. I am right, am I not?" "You are perfectly right, sir," replied Meidema. "But you must remember that this is not raw material. We have got hold of tjandoe, and you know, I suppose, that one kattie of raw opium gives only fifteen thirty second parts of pure tjandoe." "I daresay you are right," said the other. "But," he added, fixing a very strange look upon his inspector, "are you quite sure it is opium?" Without appearing to notice his superior officer's look, Meidema answered at once: "It is something better than that, sir, it is tjandoe. Look at the sample, I have one here with me. It is the purest Bengal article." "Hadn't we better," said van Gulpendam, "submit that sample to a chemist for analysis?" "Just as you please," said Meidema; "but I see not the slightest need for that. It is tjandoe, and it contains, at least, twenty or thirty per cent of morphia." "Indeed," quoth van Gulpendam. "I was only thinking--Well, it is your business, you know what is best. The contraband has been placed in your custody. You know, I suppose, where it came from?" "Oh yes, sir, I know where it came from. Your chief servant told me that it was put on shore from the Kiem Ping Hin, and you know--" "From the Kiem Ping Hin," hastily exclaimed van Gulpendam. "What makes you think that?" "What makes me think that?" slowly repeated Meidema. "Why, Resident, I told you just now your chief servant told me so." "Man, man," cried the Resident, in a loud voice. The servant thus summoned appeared; and then turning to Mr. Meidema and pointing to the Javanese, the Resident said: "Is that the man who told you this?" "Yes, sir," said Meidema, "that is the man." "Man," said the Resident, as he sternly fixed his eye upon his Javanese servant, "that opium which you delivered to the toean Inspector, was found upon Ardjan--was it not?" "Engèh, Kandjeng toean," was the man's reply. "But"-- "I will have no 'buts,'" cried van Gulpendam, "simply yes or no." "Engèh, Kandjeng toean," said the man again stolidly. "You hear it, Mr. Meidema?" "Oh yes, Resident, I hear it," replied the inspector, in a strange tone of voice. "Very well, then," continued his superior officer, "you will please to draw up your official report in accordance with that man's evidence." "But, sir--" began the other. "I will have no 'buts,'" interrupted van Gulpendam, sharply. "All you have to do is to do your duty." "Have you any other commands for me, Resident?" drily asked the inspector, with a stiff bow. "No, thank you--none at present." A few moments later the card parties were in full swing, and Laurentia, who was holding splendid hands, was in unusually high spirits, and exceedingly talkative. "Humph," muttered her husband, as he took his seat at his own table. "She is beginning rather early--rather too early I am afraid." CHAPTER V. MUSIC HATH CHARMS. Just as Mr. Meidema was leaving the Residence in his brougham, another carriage drove up and Mr. van Nerekool walked up the steps which gave access to the gallery in which the company was assembled. It may have struck the reader as somewhat strange that so young, so well-educated and so refined a girl as Anna van Gulpendam assuredly was, should have ventured to write to the young lawyer, and strange also that the latter should so speedily have answered her summons in person. But, in the first place, it is well to remember that, when she wrote that letter Anna, completely carried away by the sore distress of Dalima, and, in the kindness of her heart, most anxious to do what she could for her favourite servant, acted purely upon impulse; and had not stopped to consider that perhaps her action might be looked upon as somewhat forward and indelicate. Further it must be said, that although never a word of love had passed between them, yet they were united in the very strongest bond of sympathy--such sympathy as always will draw together true and noble natures whenever they happen to meet. As they were themselves perfectly honest and guileless; no paltry suspicions could possibly arise on either side. That this strong bond of sympathy did exist between Anna van Gulpendam and young Mr. van Nerekool, cannot be denied; but for the present at least, there was no more than this. Whether or not that bond would ever be drawn closer and give place to more intimate and tender relations the sequel will show. "Good evening, madam," said van Nerekool as he made his bow to the hostess, "I hope I have the pleasure of finding you well." "There's that fool again! What has that booby come on board for I wonder?" grumbled van Gulpendam, while fair Laurentia answered the young man's greeting as amiably as possible. "Well, Mr. van Nerekool, this is indeed kind of you," said she. "We are glad to see you! You do not wear out your welcome. We only too seldom have the pleasure of seeing you!" "Very good indeed of you to say so, Mrs. van Gulpendam; but, you know, I don't much care for cards and, in the presence of such an adept as you are, I cannot help feeling myself, to say the least, somewhat of a fâcheux troisième." As he was speaking his eye at a glance took in the whole company but failed to light on her whom it sought. So turning to the gentlemen he said: "Well, Resident, I need not enquire after you, nor after your health, colonel, nor yours, my dear doctor; anyone can see there is not much the matter with you. How are the cards serving you this evening? I hope you are in luck," continued he to the secretary seated at the other table. "Not over well," muttered van Nes. "I was getting on pretty fairly just at first but--" "Ah, Mr. van Nerekool," cried Mrs. van Gulpendam in the best of spirits; "you should have come a few minutes earlier, you should have seen my last hand. Why I held--" "Will Mr. van Nerekool take tea or coffee?" said a silvery voice interrupting the threatened explanation. The young man turned at once. "Good evening, Miss Anna," said he most heartily. "How are you? But I need not ask, you look like a fresh-blown Devonshire rose, so charming, so--" "Will you take tea or coffee?" said Anna, demurely, with an arch smile at the young man's compliments. "Did you make the coffee yourself, Miss Anna?" "Oh, no," replied the still smiling girl, "our cook always makes it." "And the tea?" asked van Nerekool also with a smile. "Yes, that is my department, Mr. van Nerekool." "I will take a cup of tea if you please." "Our cook makes most excellent coffee, I assure you," cried Mrs. van Gulpendam. "I don't doubt it," replied the young man, with a slight bow. "I do not for a moment question her talent, madam; but, if you will allow me, I prefer a cup of tea. It reminds one of home, you know. If you please, Miss Anna, may I ask you for a cup of tea?" "On one condition," said the young girl, playfully. "It is granted at once," replied the young man. "Now, what is it?" "That you will presently accompany me in 'Fleurs d'oranger.' You know Ludovic's charming duet, do you not?" Van Nerekool made a wry face and slightly raised his hands in a deprecating manner. "Oh," continued the young girl, laughing. "You may look as solemn as a judge on the bench; but I won't let you off. The 'Fleurs d'oranger' or no tea--there you have my ultimatum. My ultimatum, that is what they call the last word before a declaration of war, don't they, colonel?" "Quite right, Miss Anna," said the old soldier, who, wholly engrossed in his cards, had heard nothing but the last words of the question. "An ultimatum," cried van Nerekool, "a declaration of war? Who would be so mad as to declare war against you? No, no; sooner than be suspected of that I would play 'Fleurs d'oranger' the whole evening!" "There you go to the other extreme," laughed Anna, "that is always the way with you lawyers, at least papa says so; you are always finding paragons of perfection or else monsters of iniquity." "No, no, we are not so bad as all that, Miss Anna!" said van Nerekool. "But will you allow me for a few moments to watch your mother's play and take a lesson from her?" "Do so, by all means," said Anna, "meanwhile I must go and pour out the tea and see to the other refreshments, and when I have done I mean to play a sonata of Beethoven." "Beethoven!" cried van Nerekool, "most delightful, Miss Anna, do let me beg of you to give us the second sonata in D dur Op. 36." "What tyrants you gentlemen are," replied the young girl. "Very well, you shall have your sonata, but, after that, remember, 'Fleurs d'oranger.' Now go and take your lesson." The young lawyer went and took a seat behind Mrs. van Gulpendam's chair, and, although he did not pretend to any great knowledge of cards, yet he could not help admiring that lady's fine and close play, while Anna did the honours of the tea-table, and was busily tripping about to see that the servants did not neglect their duties, and that the guests were properly attended to. As he was seated there behind fair Laurentia, and was attentively studying her cards, the glow of light which numerous splendid chandeliers shed over the entire gallery, finely brought out his clearly cut profile. Charles van Nerekool was a man of five or six and twenty years of age. After he had most honourably completed his studies at the university of Leyden, he had been appointed junior member of the Court of Justice at Santjoemeh when, a few months back, he had arrived from Holland. He was a tall, fair-haired man, scrupulously neat in his attire, and most careful of his personal appearance. His fine, sharply chiselled features had not yet lost their European freshness and bloom, and were well set off by a thick curly beard and moustache, some shades lighter than his hair. His winning manners, which were those of a courteous and highly-bred gentleman, perfectly harmonized with his handsome countenance, and he was universally esteemed an accomplished and most agreeable companion. But, though society had justly formed a high opinion of him, there was one point in his character which would not allow him ever to become a popular man. He was a lawyer in the truest and noblest sense of the word. A man who, deeply versed in the law, yet would tolerate nothing that was not strictly just and upright. Quibbling and casuistry had no attractions for him; he was, in fact, honest as gold and true as a diamond. Hence his manner of speech was always frank and straightforward--oftentimes he was too plain spoken, for he would not and could not condescend to wrap up his real sentiments in fine words or ambiguous phrases. Anyone therefore, who has the slightest knowledge of the present state of society, may readily understand why the number of his real friends was but small. A strict sense of justice, a noble frankness of expression, and an intense love of truth, for truth's sake, are, unfortunately, not the qualities which serve to push a man forward most quickly in the official world--at least not in the official world of India. Van Gulpendam, especially--though he could not close his doors to a man in van Nerekool's position, heartily detested him, and had repeatedly expressed his dislike to the old judge who presided over the Council at Santjoemeh. "Ah well!" this latter had, on one occasion, said to him, "you are rather too hard upon our young colleague. Remember this Mr. van Nerekool is but a newly fledged chicken. You will see when he has been here a year or two he will turn out a very useful fellow indeed. Why, every one of us had, at his age, just those fine idealistic views of life which he now holds." This answer made our worthy friend, van Gulpendam, look rather queer. His conscience, at any rate, did not accuse him of fine principles and idealistic views,--not such views, at least, as those for which he found fault with van Nerekool. The young man was still seated behind Laurentia's chair, attentively keeping his eye on her cards. "I cannot say," said the lady with a forced smile, "that you improve my luck. Since you have been sitting there I have scarcely picked up a card worth looking at. I wish you would go and have a look at the Resident's hand.--" "Thank you," cried her husband, "much obliged, you want to give me a spell of bad fortune." There are no more superstitious people in the world than your veteran card-players. At Mrs. van Gulpendam's not very reasonable or very courteous remark, van Nerekool had of course risen, and the Resident's exclamation made him feel rather awkward; he did not, in fact, very well know what to do, when the young lady of the house came to the rescue. "Now Mr. van Nerekool," said she, "my 'Fleurs d'oranger!' what has become of them? It is time to begin, I think." "And my sonata in D dur," replied the young man, "what has become of it? I have not heard a single note of it yet." "True," she said, "I had quite forgotten it; come and turn over the music for me." "Yes, that's right," said fair Laurentia, "you go and turn over the music," and for an instant she looked at the young people as they retired together and then fixed her eyes once again upon her cards. "Now, you see," continued she, "what did I tell you, no sooner has he turned his back than I get quite different cards!" "Oh," muttered van Gulpendam from his table, "I can't bear to have a fellow prying into my hand. If he does not wish to play what does the booby want to come here for at all, I wonder?" "H'm," said the old colonel, "perhaps he is anxious to learn." "To learn," contemptuously echoed van Gulpendam, "he will never be any good at cards, he is not practical enough for that!" "I quite agree with you, Resident," said the judge somewhat drily, "a man who is not of a practical turn of mind will never make much of a hand at cards." "No, nor at anything else either," grumbled van Gulpendam; "come, let us go on with the game. It is my lead. Hearts, I say." The two young people had entered the inner gallery and were no sooner out of sight of the company, before van Nerekool began: "I have received your note, Miss Anna, and, as you see, I have hastened to obey your summons." "For goodness sake speak lower," whispered she. And then in her usual tone of voice she continued: "Just help me, please, to find the music." Whilst they were engaged in taking the pieces one by one out of a curiously carved étagère which stood by the piano and examining them, the young girl said in a whisper: "Yesterday our baboe Dalima was forcibly carried away out of the garden--Hush! do not interrupt me or I shall not have time to tell you all. The author of the outrage is Lim Ho. She has, however, been most providentially rescued by Ardjan, the man to whom she is engaged to be married. Thereupon Lim Ho has had him most fearfully tortured with Kamadoog leaves--so dreadfully that he is now in the hospital--" "Look here, Miss Anna, I have found your 'Fleurs d'oranger,'" said van Nerekool aloud as he heard some one moving outside. "Yes, thank you," replied Anna. "But what can have become of that sonata? Here it is," she continued in the same tone of voice, "I have it; but pray, Mr. van Nerekool, put that heavy pile of music on the piano." "Oh," said he, "you intend to give us the sonata before the waltz?" "Yes," said Anna, "that is best I think;" and then she continued softly, "I know that sonata so perfectly that I can go on talking while I am playing it by heart." She sat down to the instrument, van Nerekool standing close by her side ready to turn over the leaves for her. Anna struck the first notes of Beethoven's magnificent work while she continued: "As I was telling you, Ardjan had to be taken to the hospital in consequence of the brutal treatment he had received. But that is not what made me write to you." "What was it then?" whispered van Nerekool eagerly. "I am all ears, Miss Anna." "Well then," said she, "pay attention to me." And while the nimble fingers of the talented girl ran over the keys, while she rendered in most masterly style the lovely reveries of the inspired musician--strains which full of sweetness yet here and there seem clouded by the great gloom which was impending over the author's future life--she told the young man the whole story of Dalima's abduction, of her rescue by Ardjan, in what wretched plight the poor Javanese had been found, and she told him also that close by the place where they found him a considerable quantity of smuggled opium had been discovered, and had been delivered into the custody of the chief inspector of police. Van Nerekool had not for a single instant turned his eye from the music, he had never once made a mistake in turning over the pages; but yet he had been listening so attentively that not a single word had escaped his ears. At the ill-omened word opium his countenance fell. The young girl noticed the change of expression though she did not allow her emotion to influence her play. Indeed she executed the final movement of the sonata--that brilliant movement in which a very flood of fancies all seem to unite in conveying the idea of perfect bliss--in so faultless and spirited a manner, that the card-players in the outer gallery, pausing for a few moments in their game to listen, broke out in a loud chorus of applause. "But do you know for certain, Miss Anna," said van Nerekool, under cover of the noise, "that it was opium?" "How should I know?" replied she before the clamour had subsided. "But was that opium brought ashore by Ardjan and Dalima?" "Most certainly not," said she in a whisper, "there was nothing of the kind in the djoekoeng in which they came to land." "How then did the stuff get there?" asked van Nerekool. "Dalima could tell me nothing about it," continued the young girl. "And now," she went on in her usual tone of voice, "now for the 'Fleurs d'oranger!'" "But," insisted van Nerekool in a scarcely audible whisper, "what makes you fear that Ardjan will be suspected? As far as I can see there is not a shadow of a suspicion against him, unless--" "Hush!" said Anna, "presently--" And then, as a pleasant sequel to Beethoven's sublime melody, the sparkling notes of the delightful waltz were heard filling both galleries with gay and pleasant music. While the last chords were still re-echoing, the young girl answered van Nerekool's question: "Just now," said she, "Mr. Meidema was with my father and--" dear little Anna paused and hesitated. "And?" said van Nerekool. "Come, Miss Anna, you must tell me all." "I overheard part of their conversation--" "Oh," said he, "you listened just a little bit?" The poor girl blushed deeply, face, neck and ears were covered with the glow. "Well yes," said she resolutely, "I did listen. I had heard my father ordering the Oppas to go and fetch Mr. Meidema and somehow I could not get rid of the suspicion that it had something to do with Ardjan. When the inspector called I got behind the screen which masks the door and--" "Well, yes, Miss Anna, go on, you must tell me all." "And then I heard all they said," continued she. "What did you hear?" asked the young man, eagerly. "All they said," she replied. "Yes; but," continued he, "what did they talk about?" "Oh! Mr. van Nerekool," said Anna, "I really cannot tell you all that passed." "Perhaps not; but yet you can remember the gist of their words. Do try, Miss Anna." "Mr. van Nerekool," said she; "I am not at all sure that I have a right to--" "But my dear Miss Anna, why then did you send for me? Just ask yourself that question?" "Oh!" sighed Anna, "I was so over-anxious to save Dalima's lover." "Just so," replied he; "I can quite understand that; but in what way can I possibly serve you unless you will trust me with all that took place? As far as I can see at present, there seems not the remotest reason why Ardjan should be accused of this smuggling business. Do pray trust me, Miss Anna!" "Oh! how I wish I could!" sighed the poor girl again. "How I wish I could; but it is so very hard." "What is your difficulty?" insisted the young man. "That conversation between my father and Mr. Meidema," replied she. "But come," she continued; "you are right; you must know everything or nothing. I will tell you all." Thereupon, burning with shame, the young girl repeated just what had passed between the two officials. She concealed nothing--neither the supposed value of the smuggled wares, nor Meidema's suspicions as to their source, nor the examination of the chief servant. But when she came to reveal the fact that her father had, in a manner, forced the policeman to accuse Ardjan, the poor girl almost broke down. Van Nerekool understood her confusion but too well, he knew enough and felt too deeply how humiliating was her position to wish to prolong the conversation. But before dismissing the subject he said: "Just now you told me that Mr. Meidema had mentioned the name of the ship from whence he suspected the opium to have been brought. Do you happen to remember it?" "Yes," said Anna; "I believe it was Hing Kim Lin, or Lin King Him, or something of that kind." "Was it perhaps Kiem Ping Hin?" asked the lawyer, in a very grave voice. "Now think well before you answer." "Yes, Mr. van Nerekool," she cried still in the same subdued tones, "that was the name." The young man could not suppress a sigh as he looked down sadly at the fair girl beside him. "Why do you look so strangely at me?" asked Anna in some alarm. "Do you know to whom this Kiem Ping Hin belongs?" he asked. "No," said she; "how should I?" "Well, then, the Kiem Ping Hin belongs to Lim Ho." "To Lim Ho? what, to the son of the opium farmer?" cried the girl, covering her face with her hands as if she were trying to hide herself. "That is the man," replied van Nerekool, as he looked down anxiously at her. Then Anna remembered the infamous dialogue between her parents at which that morning she had been present. The hot tears of shame came rushing into her eyes, forced their way through her closed fingers and went trickling down her shapely hands as she sobbed out: "Oh, my God! my God!" "Miss Anna, dear Miss Anna," said van Nerekool, deeply moved at the sight of her grief; "do be calm; pray, do not despair. I will do all I possibly can to save that unfortunate man. I promise you that solemnly." "But, my father," cried Anna, as she hurriedly with her handkerchief tried to wipe away the tears which were still flowing fast. "But, my father?" "Not a word of all this to him." "Oh! no; Mr. van Nerekool," said she, "I do not mean that; but will this wretched business compromise him in any way?" "Not if I can help it," replied he; "I shall do my best to arrange matters so as to leave him out of the question altogether. Trust me." "Thank you, thank you," said Anna. "Now let us say no more. I will go in and try to hide my feelings; you had better remain at the piano for awhile." "Yes," said he, "I shall go on playing something or other and then I will take my leave." In a quarter of an hour or so, van Nerekool was again standing behind the card-players. The game was nearly over, they were just having the last round and soon the company began to break up. "Really, Mrs. van Gulpendam has too much luck," said the old colonel, as he sat ruefully looking at the few scattered counters he had before him. Presently all had taken their leave and the Resident was standing looking out at the departing guests when he heard a subdued voice saying behind him: "May I be allowed to say something, Kandjeng toean?" Van Gulpendam turned and saw his chief servant seated cross-legged beside him. "What have you got to tell me?" asked he, abruptly. "I made a mistake just now, Kandjeng toean," was the man's reply. "A mistake," said the Resident; "what do you mean?" "When I told the inspector toean that the opium was found on Ardjan." "Brute!" roared van Gulpendam. "If you dare to retract your words I give you the sack--I shall have you clapped into prison. Do you hear me?" "Engèh, Kandjeng toean," said the poor native with his usual drawl, and placing his folded hands upon his forehead he respectfully and submissively made his "sembah" (salaam). CHAPTER VI. A LUCKY DAY. Van Nerekool's interference was destined to bear very little fruit; but, on the other hand, it involved him in the most serious troubles. He was so young, he was so utterly without experience of all the complicated mazes of injustice which, in Dutch India, are found in both the judicial and administrative departments as soon as ever these are brought into contact with anything that touches the great Opium monopoly. A few weeks after his conversation with Anna van Gulpendam, she told him, on the occasion of another visit which he paid to her family, that Ardjan had been discharged from the hospital, but only to be immediately committed to jail. Thereupon, van Nerekool began to make inquiries from the President of the Council at Santjoemeh, and from him he heard that the Javanese was lying in prison on an accusation of smuggling opium in considerable quantities. "But," added the President, Mr. Zuidhoorn, "there is, in this case, one very curious feature, which I do not at all understand." "Indeed," said van Nerekool, "what may that be?" "Why, it is this," said Mr. Zuidhoorn. "Last week I received a letter from the Resident, in which he tells me in what order and on what dates he wants us to take the cases we have before us." "Why," cried van Nerekool, "he has no right whatever to do that--such dictation is perfectly illegal--it is directly contrary to the law!" "Precisely so," continued Zuidhoorn. "And, as you may suppose, I have flatly refused to obey his directions. But listen further. On that list of his, Ardjan's trial is put the very last of all. Can you make that out?" "Well," said van Nerekool, "I daresay it is because he has no proofs against the man. In fact, I feel persuaded that it is a mere trumped up case, and knowing that it is so, he wishes to keep the man as long as possible in custody, so that when ultimately he is acquitted, he may have the satisfaction of saying: the fellow has been so many months locked up for my pleasure." Mr. Zuidhoorn cast a sharp look at his young colleague. "It may be so," said he, after a pause, "however, that is not the view I take of the matter." "Indeed," said the other, "what, then, is your opinion?" "Well," said Mr. Zuidhoorn, "you know, I suppose, that I have applied for leave of absence on account of my health, and that I am going to Holland?" "I have heard so," replied the young man; "but what of that?" "What of that?" repeated the President. "Don't you see! If the cases should be taken in the order van Gulpendam directs, why then, we have so many of them that Ardjan cannot possibly be tried before six or eight weeks." "Certainly, I see that," said van Nerekool; "but--" "You see," continued the President, "by that time I shall be far enough away." "Quite so," rejoined the other; "but what does that matter? I suppose some other judge will be appointed in your place to preside at Santjoemeh, while you are absent." A bitter smile curled the lip of Mr. Zuidhoorn. "Who knows?" said he, "where that substitute may have to come from. Travelling in India is a slow business. If, for instance, Mr. Raabtoon were called from Padang, or Mr. Nellens had to come from Makassar, why, there are two months gone before either of them can be properly installed, and meanwhile--" "Meanwhile," interrupted van Nerekool, "they may appoint some other member of the court for the time being, to get through the unfinished cases." "Yes," replied Mr. Zuidhoorn. "They could do that no doubt; but they will not. You know well enough that in case of absence on leave, the Resident has the power himself to preside at the Council." "Yes," said van Nerekool; "what if he did?" "If he did," continued Mr. Zuidhoorn, "it is obvious enough what would happen. As soon as I am gone, the Resident will take Ardjan's case himself." "But, my dear sir," said van Nerekool, "why should he do such a thing?" "How can I tell why?" replied the other. "You recollect how, some time ago, a colonial minister wrote to the king and drew his majesty's attention to the fact that officials are systematically bribed by the opium farmers, and that thus the authority of those who have to carry out the laws is undermined, seeing that they are wholly under the influence of the Chinese opium farmers and smugglers. Look you, my dear sir, I have much more experience in these matters than you can have, and when I come to consider the evident anxiety there seems to exist at headquarters, to have this case of Ardjan's put off to the last, then I cannot but suspect that an attempt is being made to get the case out of the hands of the unprejudiced and competent judge." "But," exclaimed van Nerekool, indignantly, "that is most monstrous, it is infamous." "No doubt it is," quietly said the President. "And what course have you taken?" asked van Nerekool. "I have taken the only course I could take," replied Mr. Zuidhoorn. "I have simply done my duty. I have already told you that I have flatly refused to put off the case. It will, therefore, come before us in its proper turn, that is to say, about Tuesday fortnight." It was not, however, to be so. A few days before the above conversation took place between the legal officials, the Resident, Mr. van Gulpendam, received an unexpected visit. Yes, the visit was a wholly unexpected one, for it was Sunday, and about two o'clock in the afternoon, at a time when, of all others, no man in Dutch India looks to be disturbed. About eleven o'clock that same morning, Mr. van Gulpendam had gone to his club, and had amused himself with a game or two at billiards. He liked to show his subordinates that, though he had not cruised about Delft or Leyden, he yet was just as handy as they were at cutting a ball into the middle pocket, and had not forgotten how to put on side. About one o'clock, he had gone home, had made an excellent and hearty luncheon, and then, in the pleasing consciousness of being able to enjoy the Lord's Day undisturbed, had put on his pyjamas and kabaai, and was just preparing to turn in for his afternoon nap. His hand was already on the handle of his bedroom door, when lo, his chief servant appeared in his usual quiet, stealthy way, slid down to the ground, made a most respectful "sembah," and softly whispered that Babah Lim Yang Bing requested the honour of a few moments' interview with the Kandjeng toean. "Babah Lim Yang Bing," exclaimed van Gulpendam, in surprise. "What? the Opium farmer?" "Engèh, Kandjeng toean." "Show him in at once," ordered the master. "But, van Gulpendam," said his wife, "what are you thinking about? In that costume?" "It does not matter, my dear," replied the husband, "we must sail when the wind blows fair. But--oh yes--" and, calling another attendant, he ordered, "Go and fetch the pajoeng stand here." Laurentia shrugged her shoulders. "There's a pretty thing, the Resident in pyjamas and kabaai, and the golden pajoeng by his side." "It looks more dignified, my dear. You leave me to manage, we are having a fair breeze, I tell you. Now you run away to your nest." "Humph," muttered Laurentia, with her most captivating smile. "Very sociable, I must say, all alone. Come, my dear," she continued, "do send that Chinaman about his business." "Not a bit of it," said van Gulpendam, "we must keep the galley fire in--you seem to forget our bill to John Pryce." But the lady had vanished. One of her female attendants had come in and whispered to her mistress that M`Bok Kârijâh was in the kitchen waiting to see her. This M`Bok Kârijâh was a friend of Nènèh Wong Toewâ and pretty nearly as old as she was; but she had more strings to her bow than Mrs. van Gulpendam's confidante, for besides being a doekoen, she was also a bepôrrô, a dealer in jewellery. "Much use her coming now," muttered the lady, "now that my husband has this Chinaman on his hands." She hastened however to her room, and ordered her servant to show the old woman up. At the entrance of the pandoppo the Chinaman and the old crone met. Neither, however, seemed to have the slightest knowledge of the other; but a smile played upon the lips of the babah. For anyone but M`Bok Kârijâh that smile was no more than the stereotyped smirk which the sallow face of every Celestial wears when he is about to enter the presence of a superior. The old woman, however, knew that it was a smile of inward satisfaction. Preceded by the servant girl she entered the inner gallery and was admitted into the njonja's bed-chamber, while the Chinaman approached the Resident who sat comfortably balancing himself in his rocking-chair by the side of which was displayed the pajoeng stand which surrounded the high and mighty lord with its lustre of umbrellas. "Well, babah," began van Gulpendam as with a careless gesture he motioned the Chinaman to a seat, "Well, babah, what brings you here this hot time of day?" The Chinaman took a chair without ceremony, and with a sly look he said airily, "Oh I merely came to inquire after the health of the Kandjeng toean." "The deuce you have, babah, I must say you might have chosen some other time for that." "Oh, pray don't say so, Kandjeng toean. Really this is the very best time for a little quiet chat. Body and mind are now both at rest, and this is the very moment for a little business." "Oh so," said van Gulpendam, with a laugh, "the babah has come on business, has he?" "That is why," said the Chinaman lowering his voice, "I was so anxious that no one should see me slipping into the garden of the Residence." Van Gulpendam pricked his ears. "You are very mysterious, babah," said he, "have you come to bother me again about that confounded opium?" "Yes, Kandjeng toean, and for something else besides." "Very well, babah, let us hear what you have to say." He had it on the tip of his tongue to call out, "Very well, babah, haul away," and, had he at the moment known how to get it out in Malay, out it would have come. But he had time to reflect that the Chinaman would not, in any case, have appreciated the force of the nautical phrase. Babah Lim Yang Bing, then, in his oily fashion proceeded to give his version of the seizure of opium near the djaga monjet in the Moeara Tjatjing, and made some attempt to explain to the Resident that what had been seized there was in reality no opium at all. "Oh, indeed," laughed van Gulpendam, "that is your tack is it? It was not opium--what was it then?" "Oh, Kandjeng toean," smiled the other, "it was nothing but scrapings of opium pipes mixed with the thickened juice of certain plants." "Well," said the Resident in a mocking tone of voice, "if that be so, then there is an end of the matter, then there is nothing illegal at all in it." "Yes, yes," replied the other, "but the inspector of police insists that it is opium." "The deuce he does!" said van Gulpendam. "Yes," said the Chinaman, "and he has consulted a couple of Chinese experts, and these, not knowing where the stuff came from, and judging by the smell and the taste have come to the conclusion, and have publicly declared, that it is first class tjandoe, very superior to that which the government supplies us farmers with." "You mean to tell me," cried van Gulpendam in amazement, "that the inspector has told you all that?" "Yes, Kandjeng toean, and he has done more than that He has placed a sample of it into the hands of a chemist." "Well," said the other. "And what is the chemist's opinion?" "He has made an affidavit," replied the Chinaman, "to the effect that it is real tjandoe containing thirty-two per cent. of morphine." "That settles the matter," said the Resident. "I am sorry for it babah, I cannot help you at all, things must take their course." "But," insinuated the other, "if the Kandjeng toean would--" "No, no, babah!" said van Gulpendam in an absent kind of way, as if his mind was on something else. "No, babah, I can do nothing for you." "I am very sorry to hear it," said the Chinaman affecting to sigh though the stereotyped smile still hovered on his lips. Then, with ready tact dropping that topic of conversation altogether, he began to talk about indifferent matters, about the gossip of the day, the state of trade, about the ships that had just come in, and so on--when suddenly he said: "Yesterday, you know, the Wyberton of the Rotterdam Lloyd came into harbour. She has brought me a splendid consignment of Havanah cigars. I have had a few of them packed up as samples in cases of a dozen. They are very fine indeed. I happen to have one of these little cases about me. Will the Kandjeng toean do me the favour of having a look at it?" With these words the wily Chinaman produced a cigar-case, which, as far as outward appearance went, was really very pretty indeed, it was very tastefully embroidered with bunches of red roses. The Resident took the case, looked at it, admired it, and opened it. It contained twelve cigars, very fine looking Havanahs, which, by their fragrance, were undoubtedly of an excellent brand. But, as the Chinaman went on talking, the Resident looked at the case and its contents in a very abstracted mood, as if he hardly saw it at all, his thoughts were evidently elsewhere. At length, he handed the case back, and said, "Yes, a very pretty thing--it seems a very fine sample." "Would the Kandjeng toean condescend to accept them at my hands?" asked the Chinaman with his most winning smile. "What? you wish me--?" "Oh sir, it is but the merest trifle. The Kandjeng toean will have the pleasure of smoking a really excellent cigar--I will answer for it--and he will be conferring the greatest favour upon me if he will accept them as a little present." Without making any reply, without so much as a sign of consent, the Resident listlessly allowed the gift to drop on a little table that stood by his side, and, just as if nothing whatever had happened, he took up the conversation precisely where it had been broken off. "When that opium came ashore," said he, "did anyone happen to be present?" "No one, Kandjeng toean, but my two spies, Liem King and Than Khan." "Can you trust the fellows?" "Most absolutely," was the reply, "there is not the smallest fear from that quarter." "And the opium was discovered, you say, close to the spot where Ardjan was picked up?" "Not two hundred yards from where he was," replied the Chinaman. "And they found the djoekoeng in which he came ashore did they not?" asked van Gulpendam. "Yes, Kandjeng toean, it was a surf boat." "That is all I want to know, babah," said the Resident. The astute Chinaman took the hint, he rose and was preparing to leave; but the Resident motioned him back to his seat. "You have not said a word yet, babah, about that other business," said van Gulpendam carelessly. "What business?" "Your son Lim Ho has treated Ardjan most barbarously." "One has nothing but sorrow from one's children, Kandjeng toean," said the Chinaman piteously. "That is all very fine," said the Resident, "but the chief medical officer has made an official report which is very serious, very serious indeed. I am afraid, I am afraid--" "Ah, this is a world of suffering and woe, Kandjeng toean," sighed Lim Yang Bing most dolefully. "Is there no possible means of squaring it with the doctor?" "Who knows," said van Gulpendam thoughtfully. "Now if I had the matter in hand, I might perhaps--" "O pray, Kandjeng toean," whined the Chinaman. "Do pray help me I beseech you." "I shall see," said van Gulpendam. "A great deal depends upon yourself, babah. You know the penalty for ill-treatment is very severe." The Chinaman, in a moment, took the not too delicate hint. He felt in his pocket and drew forth a little silver tea-caddy of most exquisite workmanship. Said he; "That Wyberton I mentioned just now, has brought me some very fine silver ware from Paris. Just look at that fretwork. Do you think van Kempen in the Hague could turn out anything better than that?" Van Gulpendam took the box. "Aye, aye," said he, as he examined it, "it is marvellously pretty--very tasteful I must say." "I have had the box filled with the choicest Chousong, such tea never reaches Europe, it is reserved for the court at Pekin. Just smell it, Kandjeng toean, is it not delicious?" The resident opened the tea-caddy and put his nose to it, but not before he had had a peep inside it. "Most delicious," he exclaimed. "Why, babah, you must send me some of that tea, we cannot get anything worth drinking here, the njonja is always grumbling at her storekeeper." "Oh!" cried the Chinaman, "may I beg the Kandjeng toean to accept that little sample as an offering to the njonja?" "Thank you very much, babah, I am pleased to accept it in her name. I am sure she will be delighted with it." The face of the Celestial glowed with satisfaction; he felt that now he had his foot fairly in the stirrup. "I may hope then," said he, "that the Kandjeng toean will--" "I can promise you nothing at all, babah," said the Resident. "I shall see, however, what I can do." He rose as he spoke--a sign that the interview was at an end; but suddenly a thought seemed to strike him. "Do you know who it is that has charged your son with ill-treating Ardjan?" "Yes, I do, Kandjeng toean, it is Pak Ardjan, the father of the mate." "He is a notorious opium smuggler, is he not? Some day or other he will burn his fingers at it." The Chinaman looked up in surprise; but he saw through it. "At least," continued van Gulpendam, in the most off-hand way, "that is what I hear from the police, it is no business of mine. I shall see what I can do." Babah Lim Yang Bing stepped up to the great man and familiarly held out his hand; Jack was as good as his master now. But just at that moment a handsome big dog--one of Anna's favourites--came bounding into the pandoppo, and wagging his tail, came jumping up at his master. Van Gulpendam took the animal's paw and coolly placed it into the babah's outstretched palm. "Oh, it is all the same to me, noble sir," said the Chinaman, with his false smile, as he heartily shook the dog's honest paw. The Dutch official thoroughly understood those words of the Chinaman. As soon as he was alone in the pandoppo, he, with a greedy look, opened the cigar-case and emptied it on the table. His face beamed with joy, for round each Havanah there was very neatly wrapped a bank-note of a thousand guilders, in such a manner that one half of the cigars only was covered, and nothing could be seen of the paper when first the case was opened. Next he put his fingers into the tea-caddy. Yes, there again he encountered the same soft kind of paper. He was about to pull it out; but suddenly he thought better of it, he hurriedly replaced the precious cigars, snatched up the case and the silver box, and rushed into his private office where he immediately sat down and began to write the letter which so puzzled the President of the Council at Santjoemeh. Just as he had sealed it, he heard his wife coming into the inner gallery, and taking leave of M`Bok Kârijâh. "A lucky day," he whispered in her ear, as he threw his arm round her neck. "A lucky day," and thus he drew her along. "A lucky day?" she asked, replying to his embrace by folding her arm round his waist as she gazed at him with moist and glittering eyes. Thus they went to the bedroom. When he got there van Gulpendam carefully closed the door and double locked it. Then he drew his wife to the table, and, taking a seat, he shook out upon it the contents of the cigar-case and of the tea-caddy, while Laurentia stood by him, her eyes fixed upon the bits of paper. There were five-and-twenty of them, there could be no mistake about them, for the mark upon their silky surface told plainly enough that each represented the value of one thousand guilders. A shade of disappointment passed over Laurentia's handsome features. It passed away in an instant, and was gone long before her husband could notice it. He saw her eagerly seizing upon the notes, carefully unrolling them from the cigars and smoothing down those which had come out of the tea-caddy in a sadly crumpled condition. "Twenty-five thousand guilders!" cried she. "A pretty sum indeed--Truly it is a lucky day, for added to what I have got--" "What have you got?" cried her husband. "Yes, what I have just now received from M`Bok Kârijâh!" "Let us see! What did she give you?" eagerly cried van Gulpendam. "I will show you presently; but first this." As she spoke she took up a little parcel which was lying on the table by the side of a cardboard box which bore marks of having already been opened. She then carefully stripped off and put aside the pisang-leaves in which the parcel was wrapped, and at length she produced a small cup of the commonest earthenware, which contained a greenish, quivering jelly, of most disgusting appearance. "First take this," said Laurentia, as, with a tiny Chinese spoon, she scooped out of the greenish mass, a piece about the size of a hazel-nut, and held it to her husband's lips as though she was going to feed him. "First take that, Gulpie, dear--and then I will show you." Van Gulpendam cast a most comical look of despair at the gruesome morsel, while his face assumed an expression of loathing which baffles description. "That filthy stuff again," he whined submissively. "You know it is no good." "Oh, yes," said she, "it is--this is quite a new drug. It must work, M`Bok Kârijâh brought it to me only this morning." "Do you intend me to swallow that horrid stuff?" "Come, Gulpie," said his wife, as she still held the spoon to his mouth. "Now, don't be childish, swallow it at once. You will see how it will work," continued she, as she patted his back with her hand. "Now, there's a dear, swallow it down, and then I will tell you how I have had as good a Hari ontong as you." Whether his wife's coaxing words and ardent looks, or his intense curiosity to know what she had to tell him, overcame his repugnance matters but little. Suffice it to say, that the poor wretch shut his eyes, and opened his mouth, while his wife, with the spoon, put the pale-greenish mess upon his tongue. As he tasted it he heaved so violently with intense disgust, that an explosion seemed imminent. "Come, swallow, swallow!" cried Laurentia, again patting his back with her soft hand. "So, so, that's right; and now clean the spoon, the stuff is much too precious to waste." So the unhappy man was compelled to lick up and swallow the last vestige of the nauseous compound which clung to the spoon. "And now," said he, "now for your story." "Come here, Gulpie," said his wife, in her most coaxing manner. "Come here and sit down by me on the divan, and I will tell you all about it." She took up the box from the table, and seating herself cross-legged on the divan after the fashion of the natives, she drew her husband close to her side. And now she proceeded to relate to him how M`Bok Kârijâh had, in the strictest confidence, told her how madly Lim Ho was in love with the baboe Dalima, and, as if they both did not know that well enough already, she added, with a strange smile, that he would do anything in the world to gain possession of the maiden. The forcible abduction from under the very eyes of her mistress was indeed proof sufficient of the ardour of his passion, and the poor fellow had been most grievously disappointed that he had been unable to attain his object. Fair Laurentia did not tell her husband all this simply, and as a matter of fact story. No, no, she was an artiste in the arts of wheedling and seduction. She took her time and knew how to impart to her tale the necessary shades and tints--here and there seeming to hesitate as if modestly disinclined to enter into somewhat questionable details; and then again at the right moment launching out into a freedom of speech which threatened to become impassioned if it did not indeed actually border upon the indecent. And so she managed to finish her story by a glowing description of the ardent Chinaman and the personal charms of lovely Dalima. Van Gulpendam had first listened to her attentively, her highly coloured narrative had greatly interested him. But--Was it the effect of the drug he had swallowed, or was it an occasional peep into fair Laurentia's half-open kabaja, or were there other influences at work which made him lose his mental balance? At all events, the man was trembling with excitement when his fair neighbour brought her story to an end with the words: "M`Bok Kârijâh implored me to lend her my assistance and to exert my influence with Dalima to make her yield to Lim Ho's ardent passion. As earnest of the man's gratitude she offered me this." Thus saying, Laurentia opened the box and drew forth a magnificent red coral necklace depending from which hung a large rosette of precious stones. "Look, Gulpie, look!" she cried, triumphantly, "these brilliants alone are worth more than ten thousand guilders," and as she spoke she threw the necklace over her well-shaped shoulders. The deep red corals showed off splendidly on the soft pearly white skin, while the rich clasp of jewels lay glittering on her heaving bosom. But van Gulpendam had no eyes for the costly gift. He clasped his fair wife to his breast as he exclaimed beside himself with passion: "You are lovely, my Laurentia! You are too lovely!" "The drug, the drug," cried she, "you see it is the drug! M`Bok Kârijâh has surpassed herself. You see, Gulpie, you see!" "Yes; darling Laurie," cried he, in ecstasy. "It must be the stuff. I feel it working in my veins." "Indeed, indeed, this is--this is indeed, a lucky day!" CHAPTER VII. A TRAITOR IN THE DESSA. About twelve miles to the south-east of Santjoemeh, in a hilly country which offers to the eye a continual succession of picturesque and lovely views, lies the little dessa Kaligaweh. It is situated in the centre of an extensive forest of cocoa-nut trees which encloses it as in a circle of emerald, and which, viewed from an eminence close by, resembles a mighty garland of verdure whose tops waving in the gentle breeze have the appearance of a frame of grass-green lace-work. This cocoa-nut forest may be said to form the outer court of the dessa, for the village itself lies concealed in a thick grove of fruit-trees in which the most splendid mangoes, the most delicious ramboetans, the most refreshing assams, the juiciest bliembiengs, the most fragrant djeroeks and the coolest djamboes, and many other gifts of intertropical Pomona grow up and flourish in the richest luxuriance. Here and there tufts of underwood fill the spaces between the little huts and the trees, and flowers in the wildest profusion fill the air with their fragrance and enchant the eye by their rich but harmonious diversity of colour. The dessa itself is enclosed by dense rows of bamboo, the thick and tall Black bamboo, which furnishes the natives with the most useful building material, and whose long massive stalks growing quite close together and gracefully bending under the load of the heavy plumage of verdure they have to support, form an almost impenetrable hedge, while at the same time they cast the most grateful shade over the enclosure within. Kaligaweh was but an inconsiderable dessa. Some thirty or forty huts scattered here and there in picturesque disorder among the fruit trees formed the centre of the small community. The inhabitants of this spot so highly favoured by nature occupied themselves, for the most part, with the culture of rice to which the soil was admirably adapted, and the fruitful rice-fields rose all around in the form of an amphitheatre on the hill-slopes. The lower grounds contained several fish-ponds well stocked with bandengs, djampals, Cataks, Gaboes, and many other kinds of fish, all of them highly esteemed by the European and Chinese inhabitants of Santjoemeh, and therefore fetching good prices in the market of that place. Hence the population of Kaligaweh might have been a highly prosperous and flourishing community, had it not been for the ravages which one fatal and all-destructive pest spread among them. Their bane was the passion for opium. That fatal drug had undermined not only their prosperity, but broken down also the constitutions of all those who gave themselves up to its use. It was a sad fact, alas, that the great majority of those who dwelt in Kaligaweh were enslaved to it; but sadder yet it was that there were not a few among them who could recall the good time when the name of opium was scarcely known there. In that short space of time, how complete a change had come over so lovely a spot! About twelve years ago a native of the dessa, who, in his youth had left it to seek his fortune elsewhere, returned to Kaligaweh. This man, whose name was Singomengolo, but who usually was known as Singo, had let loose the opium fiend upon the quiet and innocent little dessa in which he was born. Singo, on leaving home, had fallen into the hands of the recruiting serjeants. By encouraging his innate passion for gambling, and by initiating him into the mysteries of opium smoking, these soul-destroyers had, in an unguarded moment, induced him to enlist, and thus to bind himself to the service for a period of six years. The wretches helped the miserable man soon to get rid of the bounty in opium-dens, in gambling houses, at cock-fights, and in excesses of all kinds. Then for six years he was a soldier. As soon as his time of service had expired, Singo left the army in which he had acquitted himself with some credit, and obtained a place as oppasser (policeman) under one of the government controllers in the interior of the island. He soon gave evidence of considerable skill as a detective, and earned for himself the reputation of a very sharp and clever officer. This reputation brought him under the notice of one of the agents of the opium farmer for the district, who recommended him to the Company; and the Company, appreciating his services, obtained for him the place of bandoelan or opium-detective at their chief office at Santjoemeh. In that capacity, his dexterity and cunning, not only in the detection of opium smuggling but also in bringing to light other mysterious and shady transactions, won him the warm support of Lim Yang Bing, the wealthy opium farmer, who used constantly to employ him, especially in cases which had baffled the shrewdest of his agents and spies. Singo's services were, in fact, invaluable to his master; for whenever, for some reason or other, a man stood in the rich Chinaman's way, Singo could always be depended upon to find smuggled opium in his possession, though the victim might not have perhaps, in all his life, so much as seen the drug. In the year 1874 Babah Lim Yang Bing, by sheer dint of bribery, contrived to get the number of opium stores in his district increased by ten; and among the unfortunate dessas which were thus poisoned by sanction of the Dutch government, was Kaligaweh. Now, it was easy enough to set up an opium den in the little village; but it was quite another matter to make it pay, which was all Lim Yang Bing cared for. As soon as the government had granted the license, an opium store arose in Kaligaweh, a hole filthy in the extreme, so as to remain faithful to the tradition of such dens. Over the door appeared a black board on which in huge white letters were conspicuously painted the words, "Opium store," in Dutch, in Javanese, and in Chinese, and in the characters peculiar to those tongues. The two Chinamen, who were entrusted with its management, did their very best to attract people, they lavished their most winning smiles upon the passers-by, they exhausted every means of enticing them to enter; but it was all in vain. Not a single man ever ventured to set foot in the noisome hole. Babah Lim Yang Bing was not slow to perceive that so good an example would become contagious, and might spread among the other dessas of his district. It was quite obvious to the most casual observer, that Kaligaweh and its environs were wealthy and prosperous out of all comparison with the places where the opium trade flourished. Why, the mere outward appearance of its people was quite enough to show this; and the broad chests and sinewy arms of its men, and the firmly rounded hips and full shoulders of its women and girls, whose bronzed skin bore the ruddy glow of health, formed the most startling contrast with the ghastly, sunken countenances, and shrivelled frames of the walking skeletons which one encountered in other less favoured localities. But, chiefly was the eye of that cunning Chinaman attracted by the rich rice-fields which covered the entire district, and which pleasantly surrounded its little dessas nestling in the dark foliage of their fruit trees as islets amidst a sea of emerald, when the young crops imparted light and cheerfulness to the scene; or presently again would encircle these dessas as in a bright band of gold, when the stalks, ripening under the tropical sun, were bending under their weight of grain, and waved to the soft harvest breeze. In whatever season of the year, or from whatever side one might, at that time, approach Kaligaweh, its fields testified to the frugal industry of its inhabitants. They always spoke of regular and systematic cultivation, and of careful and constant irrigation, and they thus loudly proclaimed--a fact with which the reader is already acquainted--that its people were prosperous and happy, and led very different lives to the squalid and wretched existence which was dragged out in the places where the passion for opium had taken root. All this it was Lim Yang Bing's purpose to alter. Not only was the material welfare of the dessa a thorn in his side; but his covetous nature longed to transfer the earnings of its simple and frugal population to his own already over-filled pockets. His attempt with the opium-store had hitherto, we have seen, borne no fruit; it had proved a failure, and had brought loss rather than profit to its owner. He had determined, at any cost, to bring about a change. On a certain evening, it was towards the end of harvest, the population of Kaligaweh, men and women, young men and maidens, were returning homewards from the fields. The women had been hard at work all day, handling the sickles and cutting the ripe grain from the stalks, while the men had been no less busily engaged in taking the little bundles from the hands of the reapers, and binding them together into big bundles. The faces of all were flushed with exertion, and glowing with satisfaction, for the crop this year was a heavy one; no plagues of any kind had interfered with its growth, so that the landowners looked forward to laying up many pikols in their barns, and the more humble labourers could count upon a plentiful payment in kind. That, in itself, was quite sufficient to account for the universal good-humour and gaiety which prevailed. The rice-harvest is, indeed, in the rural districts of the rich island of Java, a great national festival, a day of joy, which, for its simple people, has more real significance than all the other Mahommedan festivals. It is then for them fair time. Clad in their gay, many-coloured dresses, the women and maidens assemble on the green; then many a heart, for the first time, feels the tender passion; then many an old love-affair is settled, and many a "yes" is softly murmured. The climate, the surrounding scenery in those glad harvest-fields, all invite to merriment and glee. True it is, we must not deny it, that, on such occasions, unguarded innocence is sometimes betrayed, and that, now and then, an offering is brought to the shrine of Lucina; but, much more frequently, the vows then made will presently be ratified and confirmed by the priest, and, at the very worst, no such frightful consequences ensue as are wont to arise in more highly civilized society. On this evening, as the merry bands of reapers approached the dessa, the lively tones of the cymbal fell upon their ears. The people looked at one another in astonishment at the unwonted sounds, and were at a loss to know who had prepared for them this pleasant surprise. When they came to the village green, they saw two booths erected under the splendid Wariengien or wild-fig trees which overshadowed the dessa, and over each of these booths there waved the Dutch flag. One of them was, as yet, closed, but in the back of the other were seated, cross-legged, a band of musicians, who made the air resound with their inspiriting strains. In front of this orchestra, a space was left vacant, the ground of which had been levelled and sprinkled with fine sand, and the booth was fairly well illuminated with lanterns of various colours. A loud cheer arose from the village crowd, for now they began to see that they might expect a much richer treat than a mere concert. Singomengolo, whom Lim Yang Bing had despatched with plenary powers to Kaligaweh and who had provided this entertainment for his friends in the dessa, was standing close by leaning up against one of the bamboo stems, which supported the roof of the booth, and was, with sundry nods and smiles, welcoming the fresh arrivals who were, for the most part, old acquaintances of his, and who warmly greeted him on his return to the dessa. In a twinkling, the sickles, the bands of straw, and the bundles of rice were stowed away, and the broad-brimmed hats, with which the labourers protected themselves at their work from the full glare of the mid-day sun, were laid aside. Soon the entire population came crowding to the green, and romping and playing filled the open space in front of the booth, then by degrees seated themselves on the soft carpet of tuft. Meanwhile, the sun had gone down in the West, and the stars were coming out one by one, and began to show their soft and twinkling light, while the moon, rising in the dark blue vault of heaven as a large blood-red disc, shed the fantastic shadows of the Wariengien trees upon the assembled groups. Round about the tree-tops innumerable swarms of bats flitted in giddy mazes uttering their peculiar, short, shrill cry, and high above them, in the evening air, sundry flying squirrels kept circling round mysteriously, who seemed to be selecting the juiciest fruits on which, presently, they intended to make a feast. When all were seated, and some degree of order had been obtained; at a signal from Singo, the cymbals and all the instruments in the orchestra struck up, and filled the air with pleasant melody. "Bogiro, Bogiro!" shouted the younger and more enthusiastic part of the audience. That first piece, indeed, which may most fitly be compared with our overture, is one in which all the instruments of a Javanese orchestra play together, and which serves as an introduction to the programme which is to follow. At times, it must be said, the cymbals would make a most discordant and deafening noise, but this was varied now and then by solos which were musical and pleasant enough to the ear. Evidently the musicians were this evening on their mettle, they exerted themselves to the utmost to deserve the applause of their simple audience; and the profound silence with which that wanton and excitable crowd sat listening, sufficiently testified to the success of their endeavours. At the last clash of the cymbals, the people broke silence, and by ringing shouts and lively cheers gave vent to their satisfaction as a Westerly audience would have shown its approval by clapping of hands. Singomengolo, with the help of a couple of his assistants, and aided by the two Chinamen who kept the opium-store, then offered the notables, who were present, cigars wrapped in leaves, while sweets and confectionery were handed round to the more distinguished ladies of the company. Round the two booths several stalls had been erected, at which the lower classes could go and gratify their tastes. The satisfaction of these poor people was unbounded, when they found that all these dainties were provided free of charge, and that it was in this generous manner that Singo had determined to celebrate his return among them. On all sides, praises and thanks were lavished on his liberality. But the tempter took good care not to let them know that the tobacco of which those pleasant little cigars were made had been well steeped in infusion of opium, and that the pernicious juice of the Polyanthes tuberosa largely entered into the composition of the nice sweets he had so bountifully served out. Perfectly unconscious of this treachery the poor people thoroughly enjoyed their treat, and were loud in praises to their generous friend. Presently, the cymbal was heard again, and every one hurried back to his seat. At the first notes of the piece which followed a loud cheer arose; "Taroe Polo, Taroe Polo" was the cry as the people recognised the well known sounds, then all sat silent and listened with rapt attention. The story or legend of which the musicians were about to give a musical interpretation, was familiar to almost every inhabitant of the dessa, yet here and there small groups gathered round some old man as he told the oft-repeated tale to his younger friends. The music of Java is the interpretation, the embodiment, the rhythmical expression of the numberless fables, legends, and romantic tales current in the island. It is inseparably connected with them just as appropriate gesture and modulation of the voice are the necessary accompaniments of oratory. Of these legends the story of Taroe Polo is one of the prettiest and well-calculated to awaken the softest emotions in the breast of the susceptible Javanese. In very low tones, which blended with the notes of the music, but yet in an audible voice, the old man said: Taroe Polo was a young prince who one day while he was out hunting lost his way in the dense tropical forest, and as he was wandering about, suddenly came upon an old ruinous palace the existence of which had never been suspected. Making his way through the tangled undergrowth, he soon came up to the walls and entered the ruin. As he roamed about the spacious and much decayed galleries, he was greatly surprised to find himself in an apartment which the hand of time had spared, and which retained all its former freshness and splendour. As he looked round in amazement at so sudden and strange a sight, his eye lit upon a young damsel of wondrous beauty surrounded by a train of attendants, who, although unable to vie with their mistress in loveliness, yet were all comely and young. She was a princess, a king's daughter, confined by the cruelty of her mother to that lonely spot, because she would give no ear to the suit of an old though powerful monarch, who was anxious to make her his bride. The moment prince Taroe Polo caught sight of this enchanting vision, he felt a fire kindle in his breast, and casting himself down at her feet, he began to pour out to her the tale of his passionate love; hear how well the little silver cymbal and the strips of resonant wood struck with small hammers with their soft silvery tones express the tender feelings of the prince, how they seem to sing, to woo, to implore as the young man kneels to his love. The young maiden listens but too willingly to his eager suit, her bosom heaves, she sighs, the flute with its languishing notes quite plainly tells the tale. But she is compelled to repress her emotion, for she is guarded by her attendants, who are her mother's slaves, and who one and all will be ready to betray her. She replies in broken accents, in single syllables, the harp faithfully gives back her confusion. Gently however, and with the cunning of love she tries to get rid, if but for a few moments, of those who stand around her. She succeeds, and now the passionate joy of the lovers breaks forth unrestrained. How well that burst of passion is rendered in full symphony by the two stringed viol, the accordian, the flute and the zither. Thus having, for a while, given way to their feelings, they suddenly remember that they can never win the mother's consent, that her followers are incorruptible and that their only chance of bliss is to flee away together--far away to the mountains. The lovely princess, however, will not yield, her maiden pride refuses to take the irrevocable step. But the prayers of Taroe Polo, now soft as the gentle breeze which rustles in the tree-tops, then vehement and passionate as the tempest blast which howls over the fields--at length prevail. Her own heart pleads for him, her love is sounding his praise, still she wavers, she hesitates. But the thought of her mother and of the fate which awaits her should the secret of her love become known, quite overcomes her. With downcast eyes, but with a smile of joy she casts herself into the arms of her love, and with him she flies--she flies to the blue mountains, which loom far away in the mist. The whole Javanese orchestra celebrates this happy close with a full burst of melody, the cymbals with rapid clang indicate the swiftness of their flight, and then the coy sighs of the maiden are succeeded by the jubilant song of the prince, and a loud clash of victory brings the piece to a triumphant close. The whole population of Kaligaweh--simple folk--sat awe-struck listening with breathless attention until the last sounds of the gamelang had faded, quivering away in the distance. The moon had meanwhile risen, had lost her blood-red hue and was now prying down upon that rustic village green through the tall Wariengien trees and flooding all those who sat there with silvery light. By this time the other booth had been opened and within a group of men could be seen cleverly manipulating some packs of Chinese cards. Your Javanese is a born gambler. With him the love of play is the ruling passion, nay the mother of all others, which without that excitement might be harmless enough. The sight of that booth is irresistible, many of the men rise at once to take part in the seductive game, whilst others who are anxious to see the theatrical performance which was to follow, begin to ask Singo or his attendants for one of those cigars which they had found so delicious. The poor little women too are so fond of those nice little sweetmeats and cannot help showing that a second edition of those dainties would not be unwelcome. But, the crafty minions of Lim Yang Bing were on the watch. With the most pleasant smiles they told the company that the supply intended for free distribution had come to an end; but that the stall-keepers were ready to sell cigars and sweetmeats to anyone who would pay for them. It was a sore disappointment; the stall-keepers were ready to sell, but where was the money to come from? For though we know that the people of Kaligaweh were in every way prosperous, yet there was but very little of the filthy dross of this world among them. Singomengolo read their feelings at once, and with devilish craft he pointed to the open gambling booth. There, he grinned, plenty of all sorts of coins could be picked up in a few minutes. It was a mere matter of luck. His words acted like oil cast upon the fire. "But to play, one must have ready money to stake," suggested one of the bystanders. And how then about the rice which you have just brought home? said the tempter with a leer worthy of Satan himself. A new light dawned upon the wretched people. The rice, of course, how was it that they had never thought of that? "And will they take rice for payment?" asked one. "Take it?" cried Singo, "of course they will and allow you the full market value for it." "And," continued the tempter, "You can see for yourselves that to-day is a lucky day for you. Look at Pak Ardjan how he is rattling the rix-dollars. It was true enough, there stood Pak Ardjan, the father of the late mate--there he stood dancing and jumping about like a madman, while he rattled in his closed hands the three rix-dollars he had just won. Three rix-dollars! Why that was at least half a month's wages! And to win all that money in a few minutes! All one wanted was but a little pluck--fortune would be kind enough." Thus spake many of the poor creatures, little knowing what nets were spread around them. Still there was a great deal of hesitation--men had not altogether taken leave of their senses. The great majority still held back, and but very few bundles of rice had found their way to the gambling booth. Just then--Kaseran and Wongsowidjojo and Kamidin, and Sidin, and so many others began to cut the same capers as Pak Ardjan. They also danced about, they also shouted for joy, they showed the people--the one three, the other five, a third seven, and yet another ten guilders which they had made in a twinkling. That Singo really was an excellent fellow, he had returned to make the fortunes of all his friends. Then there was no holding them. Soon the whole booth was full of men blindly intent upon tempting fortune, while outside the cymbal resounded, and the voices of the actresses(?) were beginning to make themselves heard. But the keepers of the gambling-booth were no fools. Their policy was not to frighten the poor dessa-people at this first attempt; and evidently only a very small portion of the rice-harvest had fallen into their hands. The cheerful and happy faces of the gamblers told plainly enough that there were not many losers among them, and if here and there one had been unlucky, it was always one who could very well stand a slight reverse of fortune. In truth, the "croupiers" did but very little business that night, though they were clever enough to take care, now that the ball had been set rolling, that their losses were not ruinously heavy. In fact, as the night grew on, the rix-dollars of the winners were imperceptibly but surely melting away to guilders and the guilders to still smaller change. Yet, on the whole, the gamblers had won sufficient to make them all noisy and happy. At length came the hour of midnight, and the heavy gong was struck at the guard-house. The booth-keepers declared that they intended to close, that they had had a really bad night, and they actually did blow out the candles and shut up the place. Many of the people were still lingering about and listening to the cymbal and the craving for cigars began to be felt again. Thus the stall keepers did a roaring trade, and seeing that they also were in the pay of the Babah Lim Yang Bing the money which the confederates had lost at cards, managed to come back to them again through another channel, so that the sacrifice, after all, was not a very alarming one. At length the store of those pleasant cigars, which was not a very large one to start with, was exhausted. Then, with an indescribably low and nasty smile, Singo and his accomplices began to point to the opium-den where, for the same money, much more real enjoyment could be obtained. In that wretched hole some girls were publicly seated on the rough benches, and with their shapely fingers were daintily rolling the little balls of opium, and casting seductive looks, coupled with wanton gestures, at the poor victims who stood gazing at the open door of that fatal den without being able quite to pluck up the courage to enter. Alas! for many of them, the temptation was too strong. Excited by the poison which they had already imbibed in considerable quantity--seduced by the wanton allurements of those fair women--first one gave way, then another, and although that night not every compartment of the opium-den was occupied, yet the Chinamen who kept it had every reason to be satisfied. When Lim Yang Bing was told of the result of that night's work he rubbed his hands together as he chuckled, that "Singomengolo is really an invaluable fellow--I must not lose sight of him." CHAPTER VIII. DECAY OF THE DESSA.--ARREST OF PAK ARDJAN. This first fairly successful attempt upon the little dessa was systematically repeated, and every evening the inspiriting tones of the cymbal resounded on the green of Kaligaweh, and every evening also the temptations described in the former chapter were renewed. All this might cost Lim Yang Bing some money at first; but he knew well enough that he would be the gainer in the end and that his capital would soon return to him with ample interest. By degrees it became less and less necessary to allow the gamblers to win; and it was not very long before such a thing only happened now and again so that the hope of gain might not die out altogether. Gradually the poor deluded people began to lose more and more; and one bundle of rice after another passed into the hands of the sharpers who, it must be said, gave liberal prices; and allowed somewhat more than the full market value for the produce. But it was not only the spirit of gambling which had thus been aroused in Kaligaweh; together with that degrading passion--perhaps in consequence of it--the abuse of opium began to increase to an alarming extent. Six months, indeed, had scarcely elapsed before it became a notorious fact that a very considerable part of the population had taken to opium smoking; and--sadder still--that the opium farmers found powerful allies in the women of the dessa, who very soon began to perceive the influence which the drug had upon their husbands, and who, instead of trying to arrest the unfortunate creatures on their road to ruin, rather encouraged their fatal passion. One reason of this was, that the terrible effects of the poison did not at once manifest themselves. No--the enemy made his approaches in the dark, he advanced slowly but surely. At first the quantity used was but very small, a couple of matas or so a day, not even as much as that, were for those primitive people who were wholly unaccustomed to the drug quite sufficient to procure blissful rest and delightful sleep, and to call up visions of the houris with which Mohammed has peopled his paradise. Double that quantity would produce exuberant gaiety and excite to the most inordinate passions. And that peace, that excitement, that bliss could be purchased at the opium-store for fourteen cents (about 2 1/2d.) a mata. It was indeed dirt-cheap! But--though in the beginning of his downward course, the opium smoker could rest satisfied with so moderate an allowance--albeit even this did not fail to make a breach in his modest budget seeing that the expenditure was pretty constant--presently his constitution began to get seasoned to it, and it took a much greater quantity of the poison to have the desired effect. At first a man would only occasionally indulge and take up the bedoedan (opium pipe) say, once a week; but gradually his nervous system began to grow accustomed to the stimulant, and then a craving for the poison began to be felt, so that already several men could be pointed out who, as soon as the influence of the narcotic had passed off, were dull, downcast, nervous and restless; and who, in consequence, felt utterly miserable. There was but one means to raise them out of their state of depression; and so they would take up the bedoedan again and swallow another dose of the poison. And thus by degrees it came to pass that at length there was with them scarcely an interval between one fit of intoxication and the next. That thus the prosperity of the dessa was inevitably destined to disappear did not admit of the slightest doubt. Not only was the actual expense of this habitual indulgence greater than the means of many would allow; but the fatal habit engendered other cravings which also had to be gratified, and which helped to sweep away the little that opium had left. Moreover the love of work--never under any circumstances too strong in a tropical land--was first seriously impaired, then wholly extinguished, and, when not under the influence of the opiate the smoker was a slovenly, drowsy, lazy and objectless being, wholly unfit for the least exertion, whom nothing could rouse into activity but fresh indulgence in the baneful remedy. Indeed the sanitary condition of the people of Kaligaweh had degenerated with such alarming rapidity, that the most casual observer could not fail to be struck by the change. If, in days gone by, a European visited the dessa--which it is true but very seldom happened--he could not fail to admire the healthy and sturdy look of its inhabitants; but now he constantly came upon men and women whose ghastly appearance could not but excite in him the deepest pity. There could be no mistake about it, at a single glance it was evident that he had before him the victims of the terrible opium-fiend. Those grey livid faces from which every trace of the Oriental bronze tint had faded; that wrinkled skin which looked like parchment overheated without being scorched; those wasted angular features which gave to the head the appearance of an unsightly skull; those deep sunken eyes with their jaded look and the dark blue rings around them; those stooping forms and receding chests; that extraordinary emaciation of the upper body, of which every rib could be counted, and which conveyed an idea of transparency, for the specimens which one met had hardly a rag about them; barely a bit of dirty clothing wrapped round their loins to hide their nakedness; that deep distressing cough which came, with hollow sound, from the labouring breast and spoke of lungs wasted with disease whilst it seemed to shake to pieces the entire frame; those spindle legs, so poor, so meagre, that they seemed hardly able to totter along under the weight of the body they had to support; all these formed the stereotyped picture of defaced humanity and bore incontestable witness to the protracted sufferings and unfathomable misery which had reduced these poor blighted creatures to mere walking skeletons. When later on Singomengolo revisited the dessa where he first saw the light, and where, as a thanksoffering, he had planted the most terrible curse, his lip must have curled with a Satanic smile. Yes, all he could now see there; those cocoa-nut trees overgrown with moss and parasites; those orchards neglected and decayed; those unwatered rice-fields and half-tilled fields; those two or three oxen whose lean and sickly appearance spoke plainly of neglect and starvation; yes, all these things were his work. It was his fault that now the harvest was scanty and worthless; it was his fault that even that wretched harvest had been pawned long before the ani anis had so much as begun their work; it was his fault that clothes, furniture, tools, everything, had been sold or pawned for next to nothing, and that all had been swallowed up in the bottomless pit of that national curse. But Babah Lim Yang Bing the opium farmer and his friends Ong Sing Beh and Kouw Thang the keepers of the pawnshop and of the gambling-booth were thriving wonderfully, and by their glorious aid the Dutch Treasury also was doing well in comparison, at least, with former days when those three noble sources of income contributed little or nothing to that unsatiable Moloch, the Revenue. Gaily therefore might the Dutch flag wave in the breeze, and proudly might the Dutch arms display their manly motto "Je Maintiendrai" above the opium-den, the gambling-booth and the pawn-shop--that much worshipped Trinity which forms the most elaborate system of extortion under which ever a poor conquered race has groaned. Among the first of the infatuated wretches which fell into the pit so carefully dug for them, was Pak Ardjan, the father of the mate of the schooner brig Kiem Ping Hin. But a short time ago he was looked upon as a thriving and well-to-do Javanese peasant, the possessor of a yoke of powerful oxen, now he had gambled, rioted and smoked away house and goods and had plunged his helpless family into the most hideous misery. Where was now the pleasant little cottage with its neat hedge of golden-yellow bamboo and its clean dark-brown roof of thatch made of leaves? Where was that comfortable little house in which Pak Ardjan was wont to sit with wife and children, passing his days in peace and cheerfully looking forward to the future? Alas! the miserable hovel which now barely sheltered the once happy family was small, low, close, in fact a ruin. The single room of which it consisted was pervaded by that offensive musty smell which decaying bamboo generally emits. One look at the walls, the lower parts of which had already rotted away while the upper were rapidly crumbling under the attacks of the white ant, and one glance at the roof which was in one place bulging inwards and in another fast going to dust, was quite sufficient to account for the closeness of the air. On the bits of matting, which covered the still more filthy floor, the children were rolling about, many of them naked as they were born, while the mother and father, if he happened to be at home, clad in rags which were never washed and were leaving their bodies in tatters sat crouching on the floor stupidly gazing at the scene of desolation before them. Gazing! aye, if the stony mechanical stare could be called by that name. For the father had lost all consciousness of the hopeless misery of his family. The frightful selfishness produced by the abuse of opium: the constantly growing indifference to all things round about him, even to his own wife and children; the rapidly increasing love of idleness, and incapacity for work, for care, for exertion in fact of any kind which at length made him utterly unable to think of anything by day or night except of how he might gratify his passion and the other cravings it engendered, and for which he was driven to sacrifice everything. All this had clouded his sight, and as a man stone-blind he was tottering on the very brink of a precipice. Whilst he was in the first lethargic state brought on by the moderate use of the narcotic, he would be quiet, peaceful and contented, and would dose away and dream and build up for himself--for himself only--a paradise in which none but sensual pictures presented themselves to his eye and to his mind. Then as he continued to smoke, and when he reached the next stage--the stage of frenzy--he would, regardless of his children's presence, shamelessly pursue his wife round the cabin, for at such times she seemed to him the houri of his dreams, and then, in that wretched hovel at any hour of the night or day, scenes would be enacted such as the poor innocent children ought never to have witnessed. For, at such times the man was like a brute beast, wholly incapable of bridling his degraded passions. Then the final paroxysm would be reached, and the effect of the dreadful poison would begin to wear off; and then the wretched creature would fall into a state of utter prostration, of annihilation which for himself, and worse still for his family, was indeed a cup of woe. Then the smoker would begin to tremble all over, then he became restless and uneasy, then his entire nervous system seemed to be out of joint, then every limb would be racked with pain--then he would moan most piteously, and cry like a child, sobbing and declaring that he was at the point of death and then--yes; then there was but one single means to relieve him and to bring him back out of that state of intolerable agony, and that was once again to grasp the pipe and to fight the disease with the poison which had caused it. Then the wife had to run out to buy opium--where the money was to come from, that was her business. Then one of the children had to knead and roll the opium-balls and another little one had to hold the lamp which, for that kind of smoking, is indispensable, and a third had to make strong coffee which was generally got by theft out of the government-plantations. And if, from sheer want of money, all this could not be done--nay even when it was not done quite quickly enough for the impatience of the nervous sufferer--then the wretched man would fill the hut with wailing and lamentation, with curses and revilings which drove its inmates to the verge of despair. Amidst such surroundings as these Ardjan had grown up, and although he had not fallen as deeply as his father, yet in the years of his childhood, the age which is most susceptible of good or evil, his heart and mind had received the impressions which made it possible for him later on to take service on board a smuggling-brig, and to make him feel towards the company which employed him in its nefarious transactions, such loyalty as we heard him express in the djaga monjet before Lim Ho the son of Lim Yang Bing the opium farmer at Santjoemeh. So long as Ardjan, who was the eldest son, was but a child, the family was plunged in the depths of bestial degradation; but when he had grown up and, after having served awhile as a sailor in a government vessel, had gone on board the Kiem Ping Hin, things began somewhat to mend at home in the dessa. This was especially the case when young Ardjan, who had a very good head on his shoulders, was promoted to be mate of the smuggling brig. In that capacity he had constant opportunities of handling the cargo, and of such a drug as opium, which takes up but little space, he could very easily now and then appropriate to himself quantities of comparatively considerable value. This he did the more readily, and with the less reluctance, as his notions on the meum and tuum were of the vaguest description. The opium thus pilfered he used to deliver to his father who, in this manner, was enabled, not only fully to indulge in his ruling passion, but also to dispose of the superfluity to his neighbours. In this illegal traffic Pak Ardjan frequently made considerable gains, which, however, far from being of any substantial benefit to his empoverished household, would always be squandered with lavish extravagance. Such was the state of things when Resident van Gulpendam gave Lim Yang Bing the hint that Pak Ardjan was, in the estimation of the police, held to be a notorious smuggler. From what has been said above it is evident that what the Resident had said was true, the police had their suspicions, and had often been on the old smuggler's track, without ever having been able to bring the offence home to him. It must be said indeed, that so long as Ardjan was on board the Kiem Ping Hin they made no very determined efforts to convict his father. Equally true it was that Pak Ardjan, not knowing at the time that his son lay under suspicion of having brought on shore the discovered opium, had laid a formal accusation against Lim Ho, on account of the brutal manner in which he had treated his son. Now, the old opium-smoker had taken this step, not because he felt any pity for his son, nor because he wished to be revenged upon the Chinaman for the wrong he had thus inflicted upon one of his family--still less had he done so because he was anxious that the offender should receive condign punishment. Oh no, Pak Ardjan was not actuated by any such motives as these. A short time before his adventure at the Moeara Tjatjing Ardjan had procured for his father a few katties of opium. So long as the supply lasted, the old man had not troubled himself in the least about the treatment his son had undergone; but when he saw that the supply was beginning to run low, then he began to look with apprehension to the future, and especially alarmed was he when he heard that Ardjan had exchanged the hospital for the jail. His poor muddled brain fancied that he might hasten Ardjan's release by making a charge against Lim Ho; and he had been further encouraged to take the step by the advice of a pettifogging lawyer, who thought that, in an action against the rich son of the still more wealthy opium-farmer, he had discovered a very pretty little vein of gold. Thus the charge was, in the proper form, laid before the Court at Santjoemeh and a prosecution against Lim Ho was ordered accordingly. This matter the president of the Council had put into the hands of his young colleague, van Nerekool, and he, most anxious that justice should be done and that the miscreant should pay the legal penalty for his offence; and glad also, thus to be able to perform the promise which he had made to Anna, the fair daughter of the Resident, that he would do his best to save Dalima's lover, had readily undertaken the case, and was confident that he would be able to bring it to a successful issue. But, on a certain afternoon, while the sun was yet high in the heavens, Pak Ardjan had gone to have a look at his store of opium which he had secreted by burying it deep in the ground, and heaping over the place a heavy layer of stones. Much to his regret he found, upon opening his store, that, at the most, he had but a couple of taël left. These he proceeded to carry home with him; for he had promised some opium-smoking friends to let them have a supply that evening, and, as they were good customers and paid him handsomely, he would not disappoint them. When he reached home his children informed him that Singomengolo had made his appearance in the dessa, and had been making sundry enquiries about him. The appearance itself of the man in the dessa, was nothing very extraordinary, nor was it, under the circumstances, strange that Pak Ardjan's name should have been mentioned by him. But somehow or other an accountable feeling of distrust came over the old man which impelled him to try and hide the opium he had about him. Now if he had been in his normal condition he would straightway have returned to the ravine and buried his treasure safely in its former hiding place, before further steps could be taken against him. But the fit of depression was on him, his nerves were again beginning to play tricks with him, his mental powers were, as usual after prolonged abstinence, growing confused--in short he was bordering on that stage in which he would need another dose of opium to pick him up. Accordingly, he set aside a couple of matas for his own use, and, having carefully wrapped the remainder in nipah-leaves, he thrust the packets for concealment behind the attapa-leaves which formed the crazy roof of his cabin. This done, it was the old story again, and the whole family had to set to work to minister to him in his disgusting opium debauch. But as he lay stretched there on the bench, and just as he was beginning to light his third pipe, before that, therefore, he was wholly under the influence of the poppy-juice, Singomengolo suddenly appeared on the door-step, accompanied by four or five policemen, and by the two Chinamen, who kept the opium-store. The instant he crossed the threshold, the bandoelan knew what was going on within, although Pak Ardjan had started up, and with some dexterity, had managed to hide his pipe under the filthy pillow which is inevitably present on every couch, and his children had secreted the lamp and the yet unsmoked opium. The sickly sweetish smell, however, which pervaded the close stuffy room could not deceive anyone, least of all a bandoelan so thoroughly experienced as was the agent of the opium-farmer. "There has been opium smoked here!" he cried in a peremptory tone, as he and his followers made their way into the cabin. "Oh no," stammered Pak Ardjan in dismay, "oh no, indeed there has not!" while his wife and children, like so many frightened sheep, huddled together in a corner. "Guard the door and the windows," cried Singo to his policemen, and then turning again upon Pak Ardjan he repeated more sternly even than before, "You have been smoking opium, I tell you!" "Oh no, indeed I have not," replied the unfortunate man. "Why there is the pipe," cried the opium hunter, as he triumphantly drew the corpus delicti from under the pillow. "Why here is the pipe, and quite hot too!" Pak Ardjan already beside himself with fear felt completely crushed at this evident proof of his guilt. "Where is the opium?" asked Singomengolo in threatening tones. Pak Ardjan returned no answer. "Well, never mind," said Singo, "we shall soon find it," and a horrid smile crossed his lips. He made a signal to the Chinamen, and to the policemen who were not engaged in watching the door and windows; and then ensued a search, we may call it a hunt, the description of which may well seem incredible to those who do not know that such frightful scenes are not at all of uncommon occurrence. Under the couch, under the mats which covered the floor, they searched, they rooted up the very floor of the cabin, they poked about under the stove and in the ashes of that very primitive kind of cooking-apparatus; pillows were rent open, and their contents scattered on the floor; the few boxes and baskets were torn open, and the noisome rags they contained were shaken and contemptuously flung aside; the poor miserable furniture, a few pots and pans, the rice-kettle, the tombok-block, the rice-panniers, even the sirih-box were turned over, but nothing--nothing could they find. Singomengolo was angry. Now he ordered a body-search to be made. First they seized upon Pak Ardjan and, though he offered some resistance, he was, with sundry kicks and blows, very soon shaken out of the few filthy rags which hung about him, and, in his hideous leanness, he stood there naked before the eyes of his family. The sense of decency, which never leaves even the most utterly degraded, made the poor man cower down moaning to the ground trying to hide his nakedness from the eyes of his children. Then came the mother's turn, and the turn of the children--some of them girls from seven to fourteen years of age. Regardless alike of the mother's feelings or of the innocence of childhood, the inhuman monsters proceeded in their search, and a scene was then enacted so hideous, so disgusting, that over it we must draw a veil. The children cried, the girls sobbed and wept, the mother shrieked under this base and violent treatment, it was of no avail. But presently, one of the policemen rudely seized upon the eldest daughter, poor little Sarina, a girl of fourteen; she, in her fright, dropped her sarong, and uttered a scream of terror. That cry made Pak Ardjan bound to his feet, madly he flung himself upon the cowardly wretch, with one wrench he dragged the fellow's sabre from its scabbard, and with its edge he dealt the miscreant two such blows as sent him, sorely wounded and howling with pain, flying from the scene of his dastardly exploit. But the poor father thus goaded to madness and blinded by fury, whose withered arm and wasted frame could not endure any sustained exertion, was at once overpowered and disarmed before he could strike another blow in defence of his outraged household. They bound him most cruelly, they tied his ankles together and forced the rough and prickly gemoetoe-cords between his toes, which at the slightest movement, put the unfortunate man to excruciating torture. Next they proceeded to handcuff him; but, as the manacles were much too wide to confine his shrivelled wrists, they drove in between the arm and the iron, rough pieces of firewood, and this caused such intolerable pain that a lamentable howl came from Pak Ardjan's lips--a howl most like that of some poor beast in its dying agony. But now the opium? The opium? Hitherto none had been found. Singomengolo stood scratching his ear. He was, indeed, in a most awkward predicament. "What a rage the Kandjeng toean Resident will be in," muttered he. But he did not mind him much. He would bluster no doubt a good deal and bark; but he would take good care not to bite. But, what would Babah Lim Yang Bing think of it? might he not look with suspicion upon all this fruitless zeal. And then the newspapers! What if they began to talk--and talk those confounded papers would there could be no doubt about it. And the judges! What if they should take it up? They must take it up of course. Pak Ardjan had violently, and with arms in his hand, resisted the police--the opium police. And that was a crime which could not be hushed up. That was one of the offences which the Dutchmen always punished with the greatest severity. Yes, but then the fact would come out that there had been a visitation, a pretty severe visitation, and that nothing had been found. And then other matters might, and would probably, leak out. Aye, they had handled the little girls a little too brutally. And those judges were such an inquisitive lot, they were sure to get to the bottom of it all. He was in an awkward plight. Oh! had he but found the opium! Or better still, had he but taken his usual precautions! "And yet," muttered he, as his hawk-like eye darted round the little hut, "I had such very precise instructions. I was to wait until Pak Ardjan had returned from the ravine, then--But would it not have been much wiser to surprise him in the ravine?--No, no--that would never have done--he might have sworn that he had found the opium there by chance, and those judges are so lenient, they will believe anything, and they never convict if there is the possibility of a doubt. No, no, the opium must--it shall--be found in Pak Ardjan's own possession, that only will be conclusive evidence of guilt. But--I cannot find it--Eh! eh!" he exclaimed, "what have we here?" With one bound Singomengolo reached the corner where a slight bulge in the roof seemed to look as if it had quite lately been disturbed. The edges of the nipah-leaves did not look quite so dark in that spot as the others which had been exposed to the smoke. The bandoelan thrust his hand into the roof, he felt about for a few moments, and then, he drew forth two small parcels. These he hastily unwrapped and uttered a cry of triumph. It was the opium which Pak Ardjan had tried to hide just before his house was searched. "You lie, you scoundrel!" roared he, to the wretched Javanese, as he dealt him a blow in the face with the back of his hand, which made the blood to spurt from his lips. But the latter replied not a word. When the captured opium had been duly examined by the witnesses, the detected criminal was flung into a filthy sedan-chair carried by some natives who had been pressed for that service. Thus under proper escort and guard, Pak Ardjan was conveyed to Santjoemeh, and lodged in the jail. A few days later Resident van Gulpendam laid a formal charge against Pak Ardjan before the court at Santjoemeh. He was accused of opium-smuggling, and of having violently, and with arms in his hands, resisted the police in the execution of their duty; one of the officers having received serious wounds in the affray. Mr. Zuidhoorn, the President, read over the charge, and as he read he could not conceal a bitter smile. "It is disgusting," muttered he, "disgusting!" CHAPTER IX. NJONJA MAHAL--THE THREE FRIENDS. When Lim Yang Bing informed his son of the arrest of his accuser Pak Ardjan, and communicated to him some of the details of the capture, Lim Ho chuckled with delight. "That's one good riddance, at all events," quoth he, to himself. "Now, with a very little management on our part, that fellow will be found guilty and sent to the devil long before his son's smuggling case can come on at all. The most dangerous witness will then be out of the way." Then, for a while, Lim Ho seemed lost in thought. He had made the njonja of the Resident a very handsome and valuable present of jewellery, in return for which he had got nothing but a mere empty promise that she would see what she could do for him in the way of inducing the girl to listen to his proposals. "Indeed! njonja mahal, an expensive lady," he muttered. "By Kong, what will be her price if I should need her active help in the case of the girl's refusal? Mercy on me! that will cost a pretty penny." But Pak Ardjan's arrest gave another direction to his thoughts. "No, the girl is not to be won, of that I am certain, she hates me too much to consent. But that is precisely the thing which makes her so attractive to me. She is an elegant, pretty girl! That's true enough, but there are many other good-looking maidens in the dessas--That's tame, I know all about them. No, no, to make the rebellious hussy bend to my will; to cover her, who detests me, with my kisses; to have her, who despises me, in my arms; and then--yes, then, when I am tired of her, and she is soiled and faded body and soul--then to be able to trample upon her, and fling her from me. That, look you, is the highly flavoured dish which, in my pursuit of her, I intend to enjoy. And, by Kong, I shall have my way, too. How? that I don't know, just yet. By force or by cunning? that matters little--if needs be, by both!" Thus he muttered to himself as, in his father's house, he lay stretched out on a most luxurious divan, with his long Chinese pipe in his mouth, in which he was smoking the most fragrant tobacco the Celestial empire produces. "By cunning?" he continued, after a few puffs at his pipe, "by cunning? Now, what is the most serious obstacle? The girl's will, no doubt;--well, I shall know how to get over that, if I get the chance, that will have, I daresay, to be a matter of violence after all. Now what else is there? The njonja!--The baboe is in her service; but I think she will help me, especially if--" Here the wretch moved his hand in the manner so peculiar to the Chinese, when they count money, putting down at each gesture a little pile of coins, which always contains the exact number required, never one piece more or less. "Now, is there any one else in my way? Yes, there is Ardjan, who wants to marry her; but he is pretty well accounted for, he is safe enough in jail, and won't very easily get out of the mess he is in, as he is charged with having smuggled a couple of pikols of opium. Long before he has been condemned, and has served his time, the deed must be done. Yes, long before that Dalima must have been mine! What, then--why, then? I sha'n't give either of them another thought, then the question will be, what pretty one will next take my fancy,--from Ardjan, I have nothing to fear, even if he does escape punishment, the company will know how to deal with him. There is only one man left against whom I must be on my guard, that is Setrosmito, Dalima's father. Oh, that cursed Javanese, he threatened me with his kris, did he? When I offered him five hundred rix-dollars for his daughter! Oh, I will pay him out for that. But how?--A thought strikes me--That arrest of Pak Ardjan seems to have been the easiest matter in the world. If Setrosmito could be made to fall into the same trap--if we could secure him--were it but for a few weeks!" Springing up from his couch, Lim Ho ran to a small gong which stood by a pillar, supported on a very elegant foot of china, and with a small stick, which was carved in the shape of a crocodile's head, the emblem of Ngoh, the water-god, he struck two sharp blows upon the clear-toned metal. A gaudily dressed Javanese servant immediately made his appearance, walked up to the divan, and, squatting down before it, placed his hands to his forehead, and obsequiously made his "sembah." "Do you think, Drono," asked Lim Ho, "that Singomengolo is still at Santjoemeh?" "I saw him only this morning, babah," replied Drono, as he repeated his sembah. "Then run and fetch him at once," said his master. "You will find him, I have no doubt, somewhere about the opium-store. Tell him I want to speak to him. Make haste!" "Sajah babah," said the man, as he glided back a few paces, then rose, and with his face still turned to his master, made his way out of the room. "Yes," continued Lim Ho to himself, pursuing the thoughts which the entrance of the servant had interrupted. "Yes, if it were but for a few weeks, in that time, I have no doubt, I could find some means of enticing little Dalima. The njonja Resident might be most useful to me in this. But it will cost money! No matter, there is no lack of that!" He rose again and struck the gong, and another Javanese servant presented himself. "Has Drono gone yet?" asked Lim Ho. "Not yet, babah," was the man's reply, "but he is just about to start." "Very well, then run and call him back," ordered Lim Ho. A moment later Lim Ho's confidential servant again stood before him. "Before you go to look for Singo," said the master, "you must go to the house of M`Bok Kârijâh, and you must tell her that I want to see her here as soon as possible." "Saja-babah," said Drono, as again he made the sembah. "Yes," cried Lim Ho, impatiently, "but be off at once. Saja-babah." The next day, M`Bok Kârijâh entered the Residence, and asked to see the njonja besar, or great lady. She was admitted at once, for it was morning, and Laurentia had just finished attending to her household duties, and had given out all that was needful to the cook. She was at that moment engaged in changing her morning kabaai for another one, made of fine lawn trimmed with lace. Indeed, the lady's doors were never closed to the old quack, and she would always receive her, at any hour of the day, if she could possibly do so. "Good morning, njoonjaa," said the old woman, in that drawling tone so peculiar to the obsequious Javanese, while she squatted down at the European lady's feet. "Tabeh nènèh," replied Laurentia. "Did the obat have the desired effect?" began the old hag. "Oh yes," replied Laurentia; "it worked admirably, you must let me have a good supply of it." "That is what I intended to do, njonja, but the ingredients, you know, are so difficult to get, they are so expensive." Laurentia took a small purse from her work-basket, and put a couple of rix-dollars into the old woman's hand. "There," said she, "take that to buy them, and mind you let me have some soon." The crone took the money, and tied it up in the corner of a dirty handkerchief, from which a bunch of keys was dangling, and, with a cunning leer, she assured the lady that she would have no reason to complain. Then she began to talk about master Leo, and to tell Laurentia what a dear, clever little chap he was, and how everyone in the street turned back to look at the little fellow as he passed. No doubt, now and then, an eye might be cast on the baboe also who had charge of him; for, there could be no question about it, the baboe was exceedingly pretty. Really, the njonja ought not to allow such a girl to go about so freely; she was too good-looking, and there are always people wicked enough to take advantage of innocence. The njonja knew that well enough, and it would be such a pity if the poor girl should get into bad hands. There was so much money to be made out of her. So the old hag rattled on; and so, in a disjointed way, and by degrees, she told Laurentia that Lim Ho's passion for Dalima was daily increasing in violence, and that every day he was prepared to make greater sacrifices to gain possession of her. Then Laurentia's greedy eye began to glisten, and cunning old M`Bok was clever enough to see that she might safely venture. Bending forward, but still keeping her watchful eye fixed on Laurentia's face, she went on for some time speaking in whispers, and seemed to be arousing the lady's keenest attention; for evidently Laurentia did not lose a word, and frequently nodded in token of assent. When the nènèh had finished speaking, Mrs. van Gulpendam did not at once reply, but, for awhile, seemed lost in meditation. At length she said: "Boleh; tapeh--mentega sama ikan." At the first word, "Boleh," which signifies "it is possible, it might be done," the dull eye of the old hag brightened; but, at the remainder of the sentence, she looked up with genuine surprise. Yes, the purely idiomatic Dutch expression, though rendered most correctly in Malay, was beyond her. "Mentega sama ikan?" she asked, in a strangely puzzled tone of voice. "To be sure," repeated Laurentia, in Malay. "Sauce with the fish. Don't you understand me, nènèh? Cash down, I mean, M`Bok, cash down! I am not going to be taken in by empty promises." "Alas!" sighed the old woman, who now saw clearly enough what was meant by "Sauce with the fish." She drew a little box out of the folds of the sash which confined the sarong around her scraggy hips, and offered it to the njonja. It contained a pair of valuable golden ear-rings of Chinese workmanship, richly set with diamonds. "Is that all?" asked Mrs. van Gulpendam, with a contemptuous smile. "They are very valuable," muttered the old hag. But the Resident's wife slowly shook her head. "Lim Ho asked me," continued M`Bok, "to tell you that he intends to come and personally express his gratitude to you as soon as the affair has succeeded." Laurentia laughed, "When the affair has succeeded," she repeated, scornfully. "A pretty story, indeed! No, I don't intend to see the babah at all." "But, njonja--" "That will do," said Laurentia; "not another word about it. Come," continued she, "you may take those things away with you again." "But what then am I to tell Lim Ho?" asked the nènèh. "You may tell him just whatever you like, nèh." "But, njonja--" "Now, M`Bok," said Laurentia, resolutely, "not another word on that subject. Don't forget to bring me a good supply of the obat." "Has the njonja no other orders for me?" "None at present," was the answer. "I only wished to tell you that I have another little lot of jewellery at home," insisted the old hag; "ear-rings, rings--!" "No, no, nèh," said Laurentia, interrupting her; "but if you should happen to know of some bracelets." "Bracelets, njonja? of what kind?" "Golden ones, of course," replied Mrs. van Gulpendam. "A little while ago I saw some that I should very much like to have; the Chinese major's daughter was wearing them. They were beauties, serpents of old gold which went three or four times round the wrist and they had eyes of brilliants and in their mouth was a rose-coloured diamond as thick as that, look!" And the njonja at these words held up her little finger. Old M`Bok Kârijâh devoured, so to speak, the words which she heard. "If," continued the njonja, "you could find me such a pair of bracelets, I should think them well worth having and--there might be a little profit for you too." These words were uttered in the most careless manner possible, though Laurentia's eyes seemed to pierce the old woman as she spoke them. "Saja, njonja," replied M`Bok, scrambling to her feet; "Good morning, njonja." "Good morning, nèh," said the lady. Half an hour after this interview Lim Ho uttered a frightful curse as again and again he repeated the words, "An expensive lady!" But he was too much intent upon his purpose to hesitate and so next day he handed M`Bok the bracelets for which she had asked him. Before proceeding further with our story, we shall have to give the reader some information concerning Mr. van Nerekool, the young lawyer to whom Anna van Gulpendam had appealed for help in her anxiety to save Ardjan, the future husband of her favourite servant Dalima. Hitherto the narrative has carried us away, now it is time to cast a look backward. Charles van Nerekool was, as we have seen, a fine tall young man of about five or six-and-twenty years of age, with handsome clearly cut features, a light beard and moustache and thick curly hair of a somewhat darker shade. He had studied at Leyden, the Athens of Holland. But though he had passed all his examinations most creditably, yet, he could not help confessing to himself that he had not altogether done justice to his great abilities. Both at the Grammar School and at the University he had passed for a somewhat absent and careless fellow in his studies. He had, from his early youth, been too much inclined to waste his time on objectless hobbies; but they were hobbies which showed that his mind was one of no ordinary stamp. Mighty fond was he, when a boy, of all kinds of things which lay outside the regular routine of his school duties. First and foremost, he loved music, then drawing, painting, in fact, the general contemplation of nature. Consequently, he had frequently been kept in for neglecting his lessons; but the boy did not much mind that; and on such occasions he would go away into a corner of the schoolroom and sit and dream. Then, as he sat there all alone with his fair head turned upward to the clear blue sky, some one would say, "Poor child, he is not long for this world, it will end in consumption." But Charles van Nerekool was not at all consumptive; for it happened with him, as with so many other seemingly delicate boys, that the approach of manhood brought with it robust health. When quite a child he had had the misfortune to lose his father. Spiteful tattling people, such persons as are always most anxious about things which in no way concern them, would have it that that father had never existed, or to speak more correctly, would have it that it was never known who was that father. What reason had they for flinging about these suspicions? Why? none at all. It was all the merest tittle-tattle, the merest putting together of trifling circumstances. Even at the name van Nerekool the busy-bodies would shake their heads and suggest that it ought to be read backwards, van Lookeren. But true or false, it mattered very little. In these days, a man can earn respect by his ability and his honesty; and where these are present, he will be highly valued in the world--in the world, that is to say, of people whose esteem is worth having. His mother was supposed to be in very easy circumstances and to enjoy a very sufficient income. At all events, the young man's studies had always been amply provided for, and his allowance at Leyden had been liberal enough to enable him to take part in all the amusements in which his fellow students used to indulge. But when, towards the end of the young man's time at college, Mrs. van Nerekool died somewhat suddenly, it appeared that in reality her means were most slender; and that she had indeed realised all the property she possessed and denied herself everything in order to be able to defray the expenses of her son's education. Seeing this, the trustee who undertook the settlement of Mrs. van Nerekool's affairs, strongly advised the young man to try and get appointed to the judicial staff in Dutch India. This advice young van Nerekool took. The short time which he had yet to spend at the University he employed in the closest application to his studies, and after having passed a brilliant examination, he was appointed to a place in India and put under the orders of the Governor General. When he got out to Batavia, they kept him for a year in the capital to help the members of the high court of Justice to get through arrears of work which had accumulated. This year was by no means time lost; for young van Nerekool thus got a much clearer insight in all legal matters which concerned the natives of the island than he could otherwise have done, seeing that the revision of all sentences passed by the courts in Java and Madura had to go through his hands. Shortly after, he was appointed member of the Council at Santjoemeh, which appointment gave him further opportunity of gaining useful information. At Santjoemeh, the young man had the good fortune to find in Mr. Zuidhoorn, the president of the Council, a thoroughly worthy and honest man, who proved himself a trustworthy guide, and who, fully appreciating the abilities and sterling qualities of his young colleague, took every opportunity of developing them in the right direction. In Mr. Zuidhoorn he had before him a living example of strict integrity and of that impartiality and freedom from prejudice which it is not always easy to practise in the service of dame Justitia. At Santjoemeh van Nerekool made the acquaintance of two men, one of whom was about his own age and the other four or five years his junior. The names of these gentlemen were William Verstork and Edward van Rheijn. Both were in the government service in the Residence of Santjoemeh; but Verstork was obliged to live at Banjoe Pahit, which was the chief dessa of the division of that name to which Kaligaweh also belonged, and van Rheijn was serving his probation in the capital and in the office of the Resident. They were both fine honest fellows quite unspoiled by Indian intrigue and corruption and who held every evasion of the truth in abhorrence. In the main point therefore their dispositions harmonised admirably with the frank nature of Charles van Nerekool, yet were their characters somewhat different from his. Mr. Verstork was, probably in consequence of his longer stay in India and his greater experience, of a much more pliable disposition than his friend; and though himself incapable of anything mean or underhand, yet to a certain extent, he was inclined to give way to his superiors and to wink at, or close his eyes to, transactions of theirs which would not bear the strictest scrutiny. This he was compelled to do, he said, in order not to spoil his career. This pliability of character frequently used to involve him in warm disputes with his two friends, in which, however, he would not try to justify himself, but used to palliate his conduct by appealing to the exceptional circumstances in which he was placed and which were indeed of sufficiently trying a nature to give him a claim to indulgence. He also had, at an early age, lost his father; but less fortunate than van Nerekool, he was left as the eldest son of a large and needy family; and though his mother had heroically striven to provide for the wants of herself and children, yet her earnings were not by any means sufficient even partially to attain that object. Moreover at the time of old Mr. Verstork's death two of William's younger brothers were receiving their education in Europe, and the studies of these young people could not be interrupted without altogether marring their prospects of future success. Thus it came to pass that Controller Verstork had a very heavy burden of care resting upon him, since the future of that family, of which he was in reality the bread-winner, depended entirely on the career he might make. If, therefore, he could now and then be accused of lukewarmness, or if for the shortcomings of others he was too ready to find extenuating circumstances or excuses, the difficult position in which he was placed ought to be fairly considered. As far as he himself was concerned he always was in word and deed scrupulously just and honest, and the future will show that, in cases of emergency, he could play his part with manliness and vigour. Edward van Rheijn, the probationary-controller, was not of so yielding a nature, lukewarmness was not one of his faults. He was, indeed, as yet too young to have acquired Verstork's circumspection and prudence; but in the office of Mr. van Gulpendam, under whose immediate orders he had been placed, he was in a terrible school and he had every opportunity to become, according to the latter's favourite expression, "a thoroughly useful and efficient Indian functionary." These three men, then, were friends in every sense of the word, and they never neglected a single opportunity of enjoying each other's society. Charles and Edward had, of course, constant chances of meeting since they both lived at Santjoemeh. They might, indeed be called inseparables. It was not so, however, with Verstork, whose station, the dessa Banjoe Pahit was quite twelve miles from the Residence; and for whom, therefore, there could be no question of daily intercourse with his two friends. Every Saturday afternoon when his work was over and he had closed his office, he used to jump on his horse and ride off at full speed to Santjoemeh where he was wont to lodge with one of his friends. The Saturday evening he used to spend at the "Harmonie" and listen to the excellent music of the militia band. On Sunday he was accustomed to pay some visits, and, of course, to call upon his chief officer, the Resident, and on Monday morning he was off again before daylight so as to be able to take his bath and have his breakfast and to be in his office punctually at nine o'clock. The two inseparables generally accompanied him wherever they could, but the Sunday evenings were specially devoted to friendly intercourse and conversation. These they invariably used to spend together either at van Nerekool's house or at van Rheijn's. On one of these occasions, Charles had told his friends how that, on one of his visits to the van Gulpendams he had been introduced to the Resident's daughter Anna, how he had cultivated that young lady's acquaintance whenever he had met her at the "Harmonie," at evening parties, or at the Residence itself; and he further confessed that Miss Anna van Gulpendam appeared to him the most amiable and accomplished girl he had ever in his life had the pleasure of meeting. "Indeed," he had continued to say, "I do not exactly know what my sentiments are. Is it a mere friendly feeling towards a pretty and accomplished child, or is it perhaps love which is beginning to nestle in my heart? I am so utterly inexperienced in such matters that I cannot tell; all I know is that I am never so happy as when I am in her company." "And you manage to be so pretty frequently?" said van Rheijn with a malicious smile. "For some time," he continued to Verstork, "friend Charles has been away from home almost constantly. I really see very little of him, he is out almost every evening, and then you are sure to find him wherever Miss Anna and her parents happen to be, or else at the Residence whether it happens to be a reception night or not. You know I am half beginning to suspect him of taking a hand at the Residential card-table. I have several times strolled round the house trying to find out something; but the place is so closely hedged in by flowers and shrubs, that my curiosity has never once been rewarded and I have not been able to get at the secret at all." William Verstork shook his head doubtfully at this communication, "Is there any truth in all that?" he asked, as he steadfastly kept his eye on van Nerekool. "Oh yes," said the latter without the least hesitation, "but yet--" "It is a very sad thing," said Verstork, interrupting him. "A sad thing?" asked Charles, somewhat hastily, "what do you mean? you won't allow me to finish what I have to say." "Very well," said Verstork, "say on." Van Nerekool then went on to tell him how very powerfully he had felt himself attracted to the young girl; but that hitherto he had not allowed a single word to betray his feelings. What had passed between them was mere conversation, in which he had indeed discovered how fresh and ingenuous the young girl was; but which had never gone further than the merest every-day talk, and had entirely been confined to little compliments, and to those harmless encounters of wit in which young people who are fairly gifted, and are not particularly anxious to hide their light under a bushel, are wont to indulge. He was absolutely certain that Anna was wholly unconscious of what was passing in his bosom. But he continued to tell his friends, that on a certain evening, it was getting rather late, a Javanese servant had brought him a note in which dear little Anna had begged him to come at once and see her at the Residence. William Verstork could not help smiling at this communication. "Pray don't laugh," cried Charles gravely, "although I cannot help confessing that very strange thoughts forced themselves upon me also. It was so strange, was it not? So wholly contrary to the usages of society that a young girl should write such a letter at such a time. At the time I could only look upon it as an étourderie, a thoughtless action; but I am glad to tell you I soon found out my mistake. The dear girl saw me appear at her father's house without showing the slightest symptom of confusion, and soon convinced me that she had excellent reasons for her seemingly strange conduct. As it was not at all an unusual thing for me to accompany her, it could not awaken any one's suspicion, that we took our places at the piano in the brilliantly lighted inner gallery. Then I learnt why Anna had thus strangely summoned me. She wished to invoke my assistance for a certain Javanese, who is the lover and is to be the future husband of her baboe; and who now lies under a charge of opium-smuggling." Thereupon van Nerekool told his friends all he had heard from Anna, about Ardjan's ill-treatment, and about the opium discovered at the Moeara Tjatjing. When he had finished speaking, William Verstork again said feelingly: "It is very sad!" "Yes, it is very sad," rejoined Charles, totally misunderstanding the meaning of his friend's words. "But I hope the Javanese will not be found guilty." "And," asked Verstork deliberately, "And--your affection for this girl is, you say, very strong?" "Well," resumed van Nerekool, "since that evening I have, as Edward has told you, had frequent opportunities of meeting my dear Anna, sometimes at the Zuidhoorns', sometimes at the Commandant's, and sometimes at her parents' house; and I have had frequent conversations with her on the subject of this unfortunate police-case. And every time I have seen her I have received stronger and stronger proofs--" "Of the innocence of the Javanese, I suppose!" said van Rheijn, somewhat playfully. "No, not so," said van Nerekool, "but of the goodness of her heart, of the true nobility of her soul and of the honesty and purity of her character. And--my dear old friends, I must confess it, I am now entirely under her spell." "It is a very sad thing," said Verstork most seriously. "But what the deuce do you mean--'by your very sad thing?'" cried Charles, somewhat out of patience. "Your affection for her, my dearest friend," said the other; "you are laying up for yourself a very sad future." "But how so?" cried Charles. "My dear friend," said Verstork, "I ask you to give me a week to answer that question." "Why," cried van Nerekool, "you talk as if you had to pronounce a sentence. Come, there's a good fellow, out with it at once." "Next Saturday," said Verstork, "I intend to come again to Santjoemeh and, take my word for it, then I will give you an answer." Whatever efforts van Nerekool might make, he could make nothing more out of the mysterious controller, and he had to rest content with the promise of a full explanation on the next Saturday. CHAPTER X. UNE INVITATION � LA CHASSE ET UNE INVITATION � LA VALSE. William Verstork was destined to keep his appointment with his friends; but it was not at all in the way he intended. When he promised to meet them he thought that he would, as usual, ride over to Santjoemeh on the Saturday afternoon and stay until Monday morning. It was, however, not to be so. On Thursday morning Charles van Nerekool and Edward van Rheijn received a letter inviting them to go to Banjoe Pahit. "That will be," wrote Verstork to his two friends, "a complete change of parts. Hitherto I have been your guest, but now I insist upon appearing in the character of host. Of host!--surely my pen must be playing tricks with me. Yes, indeed, for in order to play the host, one must be able to show hospitality--no, no--hospitality is not the right word; but in order to play the host one must be able to provide for one's friends; and though I know well enough that you would not at all object to put up with my poor controller's lodging and with my still more humble dish of rice--yet I do not intend to offer you such meagre fare. Where I shall stow you away I really don't know, nor can I tell where you will find your entertainment. There's a fine invitation! I hear you exclaim. Yet, my dear friends, I feel quite certain that you will accept it. Just hear what I have to say. For some time past the maize fields of the inhabitants of my division, have been ravaged by wild boars, these have, in fact, of late become a real plague; and the dessa Kaligaweh is the principal scene of their nightly depredations. The main body of these formidable poachers finds, I am told, a refuge in the wild bush which surrounds the Djoerang (ravine) Pringapoes. This djoerang is a wild mountain cleft, and is situated very nearly in the centre of my division; the two dessas Banjoe Pahit and Kaligaweh, which are about five miles apart, lie on the outskirts of it; the one in the hilly country and the other in the lower grounds sloping down to the sea-shore. I have made up my mind to clear my district, as far as I can, of these mischievous creatures, and, for that purpose, I intend next Saturday and Sunday to hold a battue. I cannot possibly take any other days for it, as I cannot, at any other time, be away from my office. You see, therefore, my dear friends, that my letter to you is 'Une invitation à la chasse,' and that kind of thing, I know, you will not refuse. On Saturday morning I will send you a couple of first-rate horses which the wedono has offered me for the use of such of my friends as may like to join in the sport. I suppose that you will, both of you, be able to knock off work at about two o'clock; you will then want an hour to have a bath and to get your shooting-coats on. Pray don't forget a pair of tall gaiters, which in our rough country and among our thorny bushes, you will find absolutely necessary. So that, say at three o'clock, you can be in the saddle. If you will only give your horses their heads I know they will easily carry you six miles an hour, so that at about five o'clock you will be at my house. That is agreed upon, is it not?" "Certainly, by all means," cried Charles and Edward both together, as if they wished to convey their acceptance of his invitation to the writer at Banjoe Pahit. Said van Nerekool: "I must go and have a look at my gun, and I should think it would be well to take a couple of revolvers." "Of course," said van Rheijn, "William says so in his letter. Just hear what he goes on to say. 'Look well to your firearms, and see that they are in good order, for I can tell you that these pigs, when they are roused from their lair, are not by any means contemptible foes. You must, beside your guns, bring revolvers or, at least, a good hunting-knife, one you can fix on the end of your rifle, as a sword-bayonet.'" "The devil we must!" said van Nerekool, "where in the world must I get all these things from? I shall have to try and borrow them somewhere I suppose. I have got a pretty good shot-gun of my own, but I can't fix a bayonet to it. I don't think it is much use except for shooting rice-birds, or sparrows. I must somehow manage to get hold of a rifle." "Well," said van Rheijn, "the Regent of Santjoemeh, Radhen Mas Toemenggoeng Pringgoe Kesoemo has, I know, a splendid repeating rifle and a yatagan, and the Vice Regent has a pair of excellent Le Faucheux central-fire revolvers. I have no doubt they will gladly lend them to you." "Then the best thing for me to do is to go and pay a visit at the Regent's house," said van Nerekool. "There is no need whatever to do that," said van Rheijn. "There is to be a grand reception and ball at the Residence to-night. On such an occasion those native grandees are not at all likely to be absent. You will be there, I presume?" he continued, with a very meaning smile. "Certainly," cried van Nerekool, with much warmth, "do you think I would--?" "Lose an opportunity of a dance with pretty Miss Anna?" asked van Rheijn, finishing the sentence for him. "Well, you can at the same time ask for the loan of the weapons, that will save you a tedious call upon those Javanese worthies, But--" "Well, but--what?" asked van Nerekool, "what do you mean?" "Do you know how to handle a rifle?" "Oh, you need not trouble yourself about that," replied van Nerekool, "I was always practising shooting at Leyden, and they used to consider me a very good shot, too." That evening the Residence at Santjoemeh was most brilliantly illuminated. In the spacious outer gallery, in the inner gallery, in the pandoppo, in the side-rooms, in fact on all sides, rich chandeliers were glittering in the stately mansion. The innumerable jets of gas surrounded by globes of ground glass cast a bright, yet pleasantly softened light over the handsome apartments, and even over such parts of the garden as immediately surrounded the house. But there, amidst the shrubs and flowers, the gaslight had to compete with the brightly shining moon, a competition in which man's invention could not hope to gain the advantage. The Queen of Night was casting over everything her placid white light; houses, roads, grassy lawns, shrubs and flowers lay bathed in her radiance; and wherever her beams glided through the branches they shed a dim, uncertain twilight, which was gentle as a caress, and mysterious as the vision of a dream. The glare of the gas, on the other hand, surrounded the building as with a reddish circle, in which, it is true, everything was brilliantly lighted, but in which every object seemed touched, as it were, with an unclean finger, when compared with the lily white hue of the natural illumination outside. This reddish circle grew fainter and fainter as it spread farther from its centre. For some little distance the gaslight seemed to soil the absolute purity of the moonbeams; but gradually their lily-white prevailed, and calmly rested upon the landscape beyond. In front of the house there was a splendid avenue of Kanarie trees which led from the domain to Santjoemeh. At that hour of night, when seen from the front gallery, the gas-jets, by which the avenue was partially lighted, looked in the moonlight which fell through the tufted trees, like so many big fire-flies, and, in the soft breeze which barely moved the foliage, they threw on the well-kept gravel path, the most fantastic shapes which seemed to run after each other in perpetual chase. In the far distance more fire-flies were seen, red, green, blue, yellow, all the colours of the rainbow, in fact. These were the carriage-lamps of those who were coming to attend the reception and ball, and who thus, by different coloured lamps, gave notice of their approach. The front gallery was as yet empty, only the daughter of the house stood for a few moments at the balustrade looking down the whole length of the avenue. Said she to herself: "Yon red light which glitters so brightly is the carriage of the assistant-resident of police, he always has the right of precedence. And that blue one is Mr. Zuidhoorn's, and that violet--Ah, there right away in the distance, that green--I must be off--the foremost carriage is almost in the grounds--However, I am glad van Nerekool is coming--It would never do for him to see me looking out." She turned and joined her parents, who, having been told by the Chief Constable that the guests were approaching, had entered the inner gallery. Anna took her place by the side of her mother ready to receive and to return the greetings of the visitors. Mr. van Gulpendam, however, first went to have a look in the front gallery. He was dressed very simply in black evening coat without any official badge or distinction whatever, though the pajoeng stand figured conspicuously enough at the end of the gallery. He walked to the balustrade and cast a look outside. Down below at the foot of the broad flight of steps which on both sides gave access to the front gallery, a couple of sentinels were marching up and down with shouldered arms. They regulated their walk, so that they met in front of the middle of the gallery, then, in turning round they took care that the tips of their bayonets should just clash together, a sound which evidently was as sweet as heavenly music in the Resident's ears. At all events he looked down with much complacency upon the two sentinels and thrust forward his chest as one who would say: "Look, that is the homage due to my exalted rank and transcendent merit." Close by the main building, but a little on one side of it, a small temporary pavilion had been erected, and upon it also the Resident bestowed a look. The bandsmen of the militia at Santjoemeh, dressed in full uniform, had just arrived, and were engaged there in arranging their desks and opening their music-books and making other preparations. A condescending nod to the bandmaster showed that Mr. van Gulpendam was in an excellent humour. Thereupon he turned and joined his wife and daughter. "Those fellows," said he, "don't seem to drive very fast, however, they are heaving in sight now." Fair Laurentia, proud as any queen, had taken up her position in the middle of the inner gallery, in front of a sofa which had been placed there on purpose before a valuable Japanese screen. She held in one hand a splendid bouquet of the rarest flowers, while from the wrist of the other dangled her curiously carved ivory fan, a weapon which the lady knew how to handle most becomingly. She was clad sumptuously in a black satin dress, which set off wonderfully well the perfection of her ample form. The corsage, reduced to the very limits modesty would allow, that is to say that it was sleeveless and cut down very deep in the back and very low in front, gave an ample view of her finely formed and well rounded arms, of her splendid shoulders which looked as if carved out of alabaster, and of a bosom which might have moved Venus Kallipyga to envy. One line lower, and that corsage would not have been able to contain the charms which it had to confine within almost too narrow compass. An exceedingly elaborate coiffure sustained the dark-brown locks of her stately head by means of a magnificent diadem glowing with precious stones, while a number of coquettish little curls straying over her clear white forehead, imparted to the sparkling dark eyes of the beautiful woman an uncommonly seductive fire. Round her neck she wore the blood-coral necklace with diamond clasps which M`Bok Kârijâh had handed to her, and on her wrists glittered the two serpent bracelets of old gold with diamond eyes which she had so greatly admired on the nonna of the Chinese major, and which had wrung from Lim Ho an imprecation accompanied by the words, "Betoel, njonja mahal!" By her side stood her daughter Anna, who by the absolute simplicity of her attire, formed the strangest possible contrast with her mother. However much Laurentia had tried, nothing would induce Anna to appear in a low-necked dress. Her corsage, which like the dress was of rose-coloured silk, was modestly closed around the neck, yet did not prevent the imagination from picturing to itself the treasures which it modelled with perfect exactness. For jewellery of any kind, the pretty girl had a positive distaste. One simple Malmaison rose glowed in her dark glossy hair, which was dressed as plainly as possible, but the wealth of which she was not able to conceal. On her bosom a little bud of tea-rose attracted attention to its delicately shaded yellow tints, while it dispersed thoughts which, at that modestly veiled yet finely modelled bust, might perhaps be tempted to take too wild a flight. "How absurd of you it is, Anna," said Mrs. van Gulpendam, crossly enough, as she surveyed her daughter from head to foot with a sarcastic smile, "to appear at an evening party so shabbily dressed as that! Why, your late governess used to make a better figure. People would take her for the daughter of the house, and you for the governess." In a certain sense the worldly woman was right enough. The late governess she alluded to was a frivolous Parisienne, who had in every way encouraged Mrs. van Gulpendam in her tastes, and had even urged her on to greater extravagance. Thus she had got into the good graces of the mistress of the house, and--evil tongues used to whisper--she stood very high in favour with the Resident also. But be this true or false, this much is certain that Mademoiselle Hélène Fouillée had no more succeeded in corrupting the mind of the young girl entrusted to her care, than in spoiling her naturally excellent taste. It was not Anna's intention to reply to her mother's ill natured remark, even had she had time to do so. At that moment was heard the sound of feet mounting the broad steps which led to the front gallery, and in a few seconds, in came a number of young gentlemen of different races, some with white cheeks, some with brown, some with fair hair, and some with black locks heavily oiled and stiff as pipe stems, all in correct evening dress, with the starchiest collars, and with opera-hats under their arms. These were, as Mr. van Gulpendam used to style them, the ordinary seamen of the feast, who had to keep up the liveliness of the mess; and who were expected to stand always ready by the signal halliards. With this peculiar figurative language he meant to convey that these young gentlemen were expected to hold themselves in readiness for any emergency. Most of them were clerks and writers in the Resident's office, who were admitted on these high occasions on condition that they were always prepared to dance with any lady who might happen to be in want of a partner. Very humbly and very modestly they approached to pay their respectful compliments to the family. In return for this homage they obtained a condescending shake of the hand from their chief, a pleasant little smile and nod from his pretty daughter, while mamma, with her own fair fingers, fastened a rosebud in their buttonholes, thus dubbing them the stewards of the evening's entertainment. "And now, young people," said Laurentia, with her most fascinating smile, "you must dance merrily to-night." "Aye, aye," grumbled van Gulpendam, "a good stiff breeze mind--no doldrums, do you hear!" All heads were submissively bent under this windy exhortation, when suddenly Laurentia cried: "Quick, there come our guests!" As a black cloud the young men rushed from the room, as the foremost carriages drove up. Presently, three of them returned to the inner gallery, escorting the wife of the assistant resident of police and her two daughters, a pair of good-looking twins of about twenty. "Well, how very kind of you, Mrs. Meidema," cried Laurentia, in her most pleasant tones, as she grasped the hand of the lady who had just arrived and drew her close to give her a kiss on the forehead. Each of the two young girls also obtained this high distinction. "It is really kind of you to have come," continued the garrulous hostess. "I hardly dared to hope that we should have the pleasure of seeing you here to-night. Mrs. Zuidhoorn was this morning telling me that one of your children is ill." "Oh no, I am glad to say," replied Mrs. Meidema, "it is not so bad as that, only slightly indisposed, it is nothing but a slight cold." The Assistant Resident who followed his ladies, made his bow to the mistress of the house, and then shook hands with his chief. As the young ladies were exchanging greetings, one of the sisters whispered to Anna van Gulpendam, "I have something to tell you presently, Anna." "Secrets, Matilda?" asked she. A slight nod was the answer, in fact no other reply was possible; for after the family Meidema a constant stream of visitors came up and crowded around the host and hostess to pay them their respects. Then appeared the President of the Court, and the members of the judicature, the officials of the Home Department, the officers of the garrison, the leading commercial men and principal manufacturers--all these accompanied by the ladies of their families, whenever these were old enough to join in the dancing. There further appeared the Regent of Santjoemeh Radhen Mas Toemenggoeng Pringgoe Kesoemo and the Vice-regent Radhen Pandjie Merto Winoto and the chief djaksa (public prosecutor) Mas Djogo Dirdjo and many other Javanese grandees and all these with their principal wives. There appeared also the major of the Chinese Tang Ing Gwan and captains, Lim Liong Hie and Tjaa Kwat Kong and several lieutenants of that nation. There also Lim Yang Bing the opium farmer at Santjoemeh and his son Lim Ho put in an appearance. All these people thronged around the three members of the Residential family as they stood by the above mentioned sofa. They all smiled and nodded, and bowed, and shook hands, and made protestations--indeed, at the Hague you could not have seen it done better. If all these utterances which spoke of attachment and devotion, were but in sober reality the outcome of hearty good will--why, then Santjoemeh would have been an earthly Paradise. Meanwhile, the militia-band had been playing the overture of La Dame Blanche, to which music, however, not a single soul had paid the slightest attention. When the overture was ended, and flattery, and incense, and compliments, had, at length, been exhausted, the Resident made a signal, which was forthwith repeated by one of the ministering spirits in the front-gallery. Straightway were heard the tones of a formal Polonaise, whereupon the assembled guests pairing off began to move about in the spacious inner and outer galleries. It was a stately procession, reminding one very much of a march-past, during which the keen eyes of the ladies could sharply criticise each other's toilettes. The Resident led the procession with the Commandant's wife on his arm, immediately behind them, came fair Laurentia on the arm of that commanding officer, while the chief of the medical staff followed with Anna, This was a thorn in van Nerekool's side; but when, after the Polonaise, were heard the exhilarating strains of "L'invitation à la valse," the old doctor had led Anna to a seat, youth asserted its rights, and soon Anna and Charles were gliding together in the inner gallery. It was a sight, to see the two young people so happy, with pleasure beaming from their eyes. "I believe," said Anna in a subdued voice, as she waltzed, "I believe there is some news about Ardjan." "About Ardjan?" asked Van Nerekool, evidently perplexed. Not, indeed, the case of Anna's protégé but merely his name had escaped the young man's memory, his face told that plainly enough. "Yes, Ardjan, don't you recollect, baboe Dalima's lover," rejoined Anna, "have you forgotten him already--Oh those men, those men!" "I confess, it is very stupid of me," replied van Nerekool; "but what news is there, Miss van Gulpendam?" "I don't yet know what it is, Mr. van Nerekool." "Mr. van Nerekool!" said Charles, "that sounds remarkably stiff and formal." "Miss van Gulpendam," said Anna playfully in the same tone, "that also sounds remarkably stiff and formal." "Will you then give me the right to call you Miss Anna, or, shorter still--simply Anna--dear, darling Anna?" The young girl blushed most prettily. She did not utter a word; but her hand, as it rested lightly on his shoulder, was her interpreter. The slightest little pressure, and that was all. It was almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make Charles the happiest of mortals. His right arm encircled her waist, with his left hand he held hers, while his eye was steadfastly fixed downward on the graceful form before him. Thus, for a few moments they glided on in silence, "I am waiting for your answer," said he at length, "dear--darling Anna. I may call you so, may I not?" No distinctly spoken word came from her lips; but she uttered a sound, very pleasant to hear, though quite indefinite. It was a gentle breath, something like a suppressed sigh, and sounded like a veil which her maiden modesty cast over the unpronounced answer. Yes--but--might it not have been her breathing somewhat quickened by the exertion of dancing? With the blindness and bungling so peculiar to true lovers, Charles at once interpreted that sigh as a sign of fatigue, and somewhat anxiously he said to her: "You are tired! shall I take you to your seat?" "Oh no," said she in a scarcely audible whisper, "I am not at all tired. Do let us go on dancing." However inexperienced in such matters van Nerekool might be, those words were plain enough. "With the greatest pleasure, dear Anna," he cried, as he led his partner on amid the maze of dancers. "You give me leave then to call you dear--dearest Anna?" One eloquent look from the fair girl was the answer. "Oh then," continued he passionately, "let me tell you how dear you are to me, how dearly, how fondly I love you." Her well-gloved hand moved convulsively on his shoulder. "Yes, darling Anna," he continued in a lower tone, but more eagerly than before--"I love you as never man can have loved before,--I love you with all my heart and with all my soul, and the proudest and happiest moment of my life will be that in which I shall be able to call you mine--my own! Tell me, dearest Anna, tell me, may I hope for some return of my love?" The girl's eye fell before his burning glance, but this was a turning point in her life, and when it was a question of such vital importance to both, she was much too frank and too honest to try and hide her feelings under a cloak of false modesty. Very softly therefore; but in a voice which to Charles was distinctly audible, she murmured, "Yes." For a few moments he was silent, and seemed lost in thought Gently they glided on together to the time of that delightful music, and, though in the midst of a throng of dancers, wholly engrossed in each other, they felt as lonely as on some island washed by the storm-tossed waves. But his arm now more firmly clasped her waist, for a single instant it seemed as if he would have caught her up to his breast and held her there, as if to take possession of his treasure. "You make me too happy," said he at length, "You make me too happy with that little word, which to me is full of the deepest meaning. Now will you allow me to see your parents to-morrow and lay before them my formal request for your hand?" At these words the girl's countenance fell, she replied however: "Most certainly I will allow you, Mr. van Ne----" "My name is Charles, dearest Anna," whispered the young man. "Certainly, Charles, I will allow you--but it would not be right to try and conceal from you the fact that my father is prejudiced against you. My father does not like you at all, I have gathered that from many an unguarded expression that has fallen from him." "Oh, yes," he replied, "I know that well. I also have noticed his dislike. But what objection can he have to me?" "Well," said Anna, "to tell you the truth, I do not think he knows that himself--some unaccountable antipathy, I suppose. You know he calls you a dreamer, an enthusiast, an unpractical person, in fact, who will never make much way in the world." "And my Anna," asked the young man, "does she also look upon me as a dreamer and an enthusiast?" The fair girl looked up to him with a merry smile. "Yes," continued van Nerekool, "I am an enthusiast--that is quite true. I am devoted to all that is good and all that is beautiful. I am an enthusiast where my darling is concerned--that is true enough. But is it a fact that I am an unpractical fellow, and one who will never make his way in the world? Methinks that just now, when I am trying to win the dearest girl in the world, I am proving myself to be most thoroughly practical, inasmuch as I am striving to secure for myself the greatest imaginable happiness, and I think that, far from dreaming, I am giving proof of being very properly and very wide awake. Don't you think so, dearest?" Another soft pressure on that poor shoulder which already had had so much to bear was her answer. "And do you think, dearest Anna," he continued, "that that antipathy is strong enough to make your father so hostile to me that he will refuse his consent to a union on which he knows that your happiness as well as mine depends?" "I do not say so, Charles," was her reply. "But you must make up your mind to difficulties and obstacles of all kinds." "Very good," said he, "we shall have to fight against them; difficulties are made to be removed and obstacles to be overcome. Anna, my darling, I count upon your love and your constancy; you may safely count on mine. Nothing--you hear me?--nothing in the world will in the slightest degree affect my love to you. The very obstacles you speak of will only serve to enhance the joy of our union." The music ceased, and with it ceased the dance. Charles released his partner's waist and offered her his arm. "Let us walk about for a few minutes," said he; "to-morrow I shall call upon your parents. I will request them to see me some time in the morning. That is a settled question, is it not?" She nodded with her calm, sweet smile. After having made a couple of turns around the inner gallery the two lovers found themselves at one of the doors which opened upon the pandoppo, where the illumination was equally bright. Several couples--groups of young girls--also were passing through the pandoppo to get to the garden of the Residence, there to enjoy for a while the freshness and coolness of the pleasant night. Anna and Charles followed the others somewhat mechanically; and soon found themselves among the ornamental shrubberies and bushes which the tropical sun brings forth in such abundance. Between these the pathways, laid down in the style of an English park, meandered gracefully and fantastically as the inspiration of some skilful artist. "I fancy I saw Matilda Meidema and a couple of my friends yonder just now," said Anna, "down there in the Salak-lane. She has something to tell me. I shall be with you again directly." Was it natural modesty? Was it a kind of dread of being alone for the first time with him whom she loved, and to whom she had just now spoken her faithful and trustful "yes?" Was it perhaps womanly curiosity which impelled her to go and hear what secret her friend had to communicate, and a burning anxiety also to pour into her ear the great secret of her own happiness? Perhaps so. At all events, she was about to speed away, but van Nerekool prevented her with gentle violence as he pressed to his heart the hand which lay on his arm. "There will be time enough presently, dearest love," murmured he in a whisper, as if he feared some one in the garden might catch up his words; "there will be time enough presently to hear what Matilda has to tell you. This hour is mine." CHAPTER XI. A GARDEN SCENE. Meanwhile, the moon had risen high in the heavens. Through the lofty tree-tops, her beams formed the most curiously shaped and fantastic silhouettes, which, under the influence of the cool night-breeze, seemed to drive one another up and down in endless chase along the bright yellow paths, and the velvety lawns. Here and there, the moonlight fell through groups of Tjemara trees, which, with their long needle-like foliage, greatly resemble our larches, and thus had, as it were, to pass through a network of the finest lace. Nothing could be more weird, and, to a poetic eye, more pleasing, than these strange patches of sifted light, which cast no shadows, and offered so great a contrast to the calm white radiance around, that they looked like the mysterious rings in which elves and fairies hold their nightly revels. This night, however, the otherwise so quiet garden offered a most animated spectacle. On all sides, in the avenues, under the trees, on the lawns, were scattered about merry groups of young men and girls, and many more sedate parties also of older people, all thoroughly enjoying the fresh balmy air, and, after the heat and glare of the crowded ball-rooms, finding relief in the cool breeze and pleasant moonlight. After the waltz was over, the band had struck up a fantasia on airs from La Traviata. As the picolo and the cornet began the well-known duet of the first act in which Alfred and Violetta declare their mutual love, and where the music so eloquently interprets the words: "Un jour l'âme ravie, Je vous vis si jolie, Que je vous crus sortie Du céleste séjour. Etait-ce donc un ange, une femme, Qui venait d'embraser mon âme? Las! je ne sais encor ... mais depuis ce beau jour, Je sais que j'aime d'un pur amour." Van Nerekool's arm stole round the waist of his dear Anna, as he led her into a thick grove of Pandan, under whose heavy and broad foliage they might hope, for a few moments, to escape from the observation of those around them. "Now, my own dearest Anna," said he, "now that we are alone, let me repeat the words which, yonder in the midst of all those people, and with all those eyes fixed upon us, I could but whisper." The young girl hung trembling all over on her lover's arm. "Anna, my darling, I love you; I love you more dearly than my words can express, more dearly than my mother, than my sister, more dearly than myself. As I am by your side, I can dream of nothing but happiness, to breathe the same air that you breathe is bliss indeed. O darling Anna, let me tell you again and again how dearly, how faithfully, I love you!" The strong man clasped the girl to his breast, and she hid her head on his shoulder. "Tell me, Anna," he continued, passionately, "tell me, do you feel some such love for me? Do you love me, dearest? I know I have already had your answer, but repeat that word once again now that we are here alone, now that we are here far from the noise of the world, repeat that little word now as we are standing under the eye of God himself." He drew the young girl still more closely to him, as he bowed his head down to her lips to listen. She closed her eyes, and then, blending with the wondrous soughing of the breeze in the Tjemara trees, softly and melodiously the magic syllable fell from her lips. He all but uttered a cry of joy, and, bending his head still deeper down towards her, he whispered in trembling accents, "Dearest one, now let me set the seal to my vows of true and faithful love;" and, before Anna had time to utter a word, their lips met, and then, with one long, ardent kiss, they closed the band which, for this transitory world, was to hold their hearts and lives inseparably united. Thus for a few moments they stood in fond embrace, gazing at one another with joy ineffable, while high above them the broad Pandan-leaves were gently waving and sheltering them under their friendly shade, and the wind sighing to the Tjemaras wafted to them from yonder distance the sweet strains of melody which again and again seemed to say: "... Mais depuis ce beau jour, Je sais que j'aime d'un pur amour." Those brief moments of rapture were indeed, for the happy pair of lovers, an ever-memorable page in the book of their life; the fairest page, no doubt, and the happiest. Soon, too soon, they were to be roughly shaken out of their blissful dream. "Anna!" cried a loud voice, "Matilda Meidema is looking for you everywhere. Where can you have got to, my child?" It was the voice of Anna's mother Laurentia, which suddenly startled our lovers out of their ecstasy. At a single glance the sharp-sighted woman had taken in the whole scene; but she betrayed no surprise, and, in the most winning manner, continued: "I left Matilda, only a moment ago, by yonder bed of roses--if you will follow this path, you can't help meeting her." And, as her daughter stood irresolute: "Oh," said she, "you need not be anxious; Mr. van Nerekool will be kind enough to offer me his arm, so you see you will not leave him sorrowing and utterly forsaken. Make haste." These words uttered in the most friendly tone, yet so full of sarcasm, dismayed the young girl utterly, and caused her to hurry away with sad forebodings. "And now, Mr. van Nerekool," said Mrs. van Gulpendam, somewhat loftily, to the young man. "Now, it is our turn, will you kindly offer me your arm?" Without a word, and with a courtly bow, van Nerekool complied; but he felt sick at heart, as though he had committed some crime. "Come," said she, "we will walk up this avenue of Tjemaras, it is lighter here and not so mysteriously dark as in that horrid Pandan grove. True, I don't suppose you will have to tell me such pretty tales as you were just now whispering to Anna, Fie, Mr. van Nerekool, that was hardly a loyal action on your part, I must say--" Charles cast his eye on the woman who was leaning on his arm, and who, so calmly and with so musical a voice, signified her maternal disapprobation. They had come forth from the Pandan grove, so that the moonlight, shining full upon the perfect form of her snowy bosom, which a thin tulle handkerchief only nominally protected from the night air, imparted to her person an indescribably fascinating appearance. As though dazzled at the sight, the young man, for a single instant, closed his eyes; and when he opened them again, he found the deep, dark gaze of the beautiful woman fixed full upon him. She seemed to divine the impression which the view of her charms had, for a passing moment, made upon the youthful and susceptible man. Her look seemed to interrogate, and, at the same time, was encouraging. "Madam," said Charles at length with a deep breath, as if he were putting from him an unwelcome thought; "Madam, you were doubtless surprised to find me walking with Miss Anna in this somewhat lonely part of the garden--" "Walking with her, yes,--and kissing her," said fair Laurentia, completing the sentence. "Well, yes," continued Charles, "and kissing her; but should you perhaps think that we had purposely selected this spot, then--" "Well, what then?" asked she, with a sly smile. "Then you would be misjudging Miss Anna and myself." "I considered," retorted Laurentia, somewhat sarcastically, "that the spot was an admirable one--well-chosen for kissing." "Yet it was the merest chance that brought us to it. Believe me, before that moment,--or to speak more correctly,--before this evening, not a word of love had ever passed between us." "Oh, Mr. van Nerekool!" exclaimed Laurentia, with a mocking smile, "that is quite incredible! Do you expect me to believe that two young people of different sexes, should be kissing each other in an out-of-the-way corner, if there had not previously been some words of affection,--of love,--spoken between them--without, in fact, any question of passion on either side?" "And yet, madam, believe me, it is the perfect truth. I never tell a lie," broke in Charles, with considerable vehemence. "Aye, aye," said Laurentia, "I know all about it. I once was young myself. Oh," continued the pleasure-loving woman, her voice falling at the remembrance of that youth from which she was so loth to part. "Oh, when I was nineteen, I was exactly what Anna is now--I was, as she is now, a budding beauty, I had just as fresh and youthful feelings--I was just as child-like and playful as she is." Van Nerekool shuddered at this comparison of the daughter with the mother. "I was just as kind-hearted, just as lovable as she is. Oh believe me," continued she, excitedly, while she allowed her hand to lean on his arm more heavily perhaps than was needful, and gave that arm a gentle pressure. "Believe me, one need not have a very lively imagination to see that Anna will be precisely like me." For a moment she paused, as if she began to see that she was being carried away by her subject. "No doubt, madam," replied van Nerekool, gallantly, as he allowed his eye to wander from the face of his fair companion to her shoulders, to her bosom, to her feet. "No doubt, one may safely predict that Miss Anna will, in charms and perfections, nearly come up to her mother." "Pray, Mr. van Nerekool, no compliments," said Laurentia, with an affected smile. "But may I beg of you," continued he, "to let me know for what purpose you drew the parallel? I do not quite see--" Laurentia shook the wealth of curls which covered her neck and descended to her shoulders. No, the simpleton whose arm she held, did not understand her. That was plain enough. One thought of M`Bok Kârijâh swiftly passed through her brain, and drew a sigh from her. "Oh," she continued, while her bosom rose and fell quickly as she drew breath more rapidly, "I merely meant to state that I was young once--" "And you are young still," cried van Nerekool, politely. "That a kiss has been snatched from me too," continued Laurentia, with a smile of pleasure at the remembrance, "but that occurred in open daylight, in the presence of my parents, and not in the darkness of a Pandan grove." "Now, madam," said van Nerekool, very seriously, "allow me, I pray you, to tell you how it all happened. For about a twelvemonth I have been visiting at your house. At first my visits were but rare, of late they have become much more frequent. Now, you are a clever woman and you cannot have failed to see the reason of this. I had made the acquaintance of your daughter, and the more thoroughly I began to appreciate her amiable and noble character, the more deeply did the shaft which had struck me at my first visit, enter into my heart. How shall I go on, madam--the simple truth is that soon I felt that at her side only I could be truly happy. But;--though I ventured to hope that Miss Anna had no aversion for me--and though I thought that I might reckon upon your friendly aid also--yet I very soon began to notice that I failed to gain the good-will of Mr. van Gulpendam. Indeed, I may say, that he positively dislikes me. That feeling of dislike he could not always repress, though he observed towards me the forms of strict politeness; and, though I cannot complain of any purposely inflicted slights, yet now and then his repugnance would show itself in a manner which, to me, has been wholly unmistakable. This, in some measure, discouraged me. Then again, I know that, as yet, my income will not suffice to set up housekeeping on however modest a scale. Thus, you yourself, my dear madam, must have perceived that I left Miss Anna in utter ignorance of my affection for her. Whether or not she may have suspected my passion, I do not dare to say; but certainly I uttered no single word of love to her--" "But Mr. van Nerekool--" "Allow me, madam, to finish my story: certainly I uttered no single word of love to her until this evening when, in the giddy whirl of the dance, the secret which I had so long and so faithfully kept escaped me. I was beside myself with joy when the first declaration of my love was not met with a refusal. And, as a loving mother, can you now blame me because, as we were walking together a few moments later in this garden, I was driven, by the magic power of this lovely scene, by the solemn quiet of this enchanting spot, and by the seductive notes of the music which could not but find an echo in my heart, again to declare my love? Can you blame me because, as I held in my arms the pure angel of my dreams and clasped her to my heart, I sealed the solemn compact of our love with a kiss as pure and as holy--I swear it--as the angels in Heaven might interchange?" Charles van Nerekool spoke with the fire, with the enthusiasm, of truth. His words were nothing like the commonplaces of society, nothing like the phrases which sound like a mere sentimental lesson learnt out of the romantic pages of Georges Sand, of Georges Ohnet or of Hector Malot. His words were eloquent, manly; and came from a true and loyal heart, and they made a deep impression on the fair lady who leaned on his arm, Laurentia--always very impressible--closed her eyes for a moment, as if dazed by the power and purity of his love. Had Mr. van Gulpendam ever, thought she, thus declared his love to her--had he ever spoken of her in such terms? Alas! no; he was a man wholly absorbed in the love of money; and--and--But she--she?--was she free from those faults which now she looked upon with such horror in her husband? For one single moment she was forced to confess herself guilty, for a single moment better thoughts prevailed. But this was only for a moment. The instant after she began to feel jealous of her daughter. Yes, jealous and angry at the thought that Anna has succeeded in winning so pure, so proud, so manly a love--a love which she herself had never either felt or inspired. Moreover she put no faith in so much purity and sincerity as the words of van Nerekool evidently conveyed. Her very nature forbade her to do so. All affection, all love between persons of opposite sexes was, in her estimation, the mere expression of material passion and the consequence of carnal desire. Purity and love were, to her, mere sounds, which, if she could understand them at all, only served as a cloak for far different sentiments. To her they were--they could be--nothing more. Under the influence, therefore, of such miserably grovelling views, she answered sarcastically: "Yes, I can understand all that! Immeasurable bliss under the Pandan bushes! Now, Mr. van Nerekool, shall I tell you what I think of that chaste kiss and all the rest of it?--Well, I think that they are merely fine names for something which might be expressed in totally different language. Why! you, as a man, you surely must know what meaning the world attributes to a kiss!" "Pardon me, madam," replied Charles, somewhat sadly, "I am, as yet, very young and very inexperienced." "Yes," said Laurentia with a mocking laugh, "I can quite perceive that." "Oh madam," cried the young man, "I beg you let us not waste time in useless playing with words. Yes I am young, I repeat it, I am inexperienced, I have but little knowledge of the sentiments which seem to pass current in the world; feelings which appear to be ticketed like the samples of some commercial traveller, each to fit into their own compartment--one affection of the heart another of the head, another of the senses. Of all this I know nothing. I can say but one thing, I truly, and in all good faith and honesty, love your daughter; and especially, my love for her is a pure love in which the pursuit after pleasure has not once entered. Believe me when I say this in all the sincerity of my heart. Such insinuations I never expected to hear from her who is the mother of her whom I honour and respect above all things. I love Anna with all my heart and with all my powers, and I feel within me the glorious strength which honourable love alone is able to impart." These principles of the young man spoken out so forcibly and in so manly a spirit, baffled Mrs. van Gulpendam completely. She felt at once that it would be no use whatever to try and play any idle games with him. "But," said she somewhat impatiently, "what then do you want of me?" This she asked quite forgetting that it was she who had asked van Nerekool to give her his arm, and that it was she who had brought up this conversation--a conversation which seemed to be turning greatly to her discomfiture. "I caught you," she continued, "as you were holding Anna in your arms, in a lonely spot, and as you were pressing a kiss upon her lips. Now I ask you, what am I to think of the vaunted purity of your love? Your practice seems to me to be in direct contradiction with your fine principles. I ask you again: is such conduct in any way excusable, while the girl's parents are left in ignorance of this passion?" "Mrs. van Gulpendam, I have tried to explain to you how circumstances entirely beyond my control, have led me to betray my feelings. If you will not take my word for it, then I can only lament that you, my dear Anna's mother, have formed so low an opinion of my character. But, much as I do regret that, such considerations can now no longer withhold me. I have agreed with Miss Anna, that to-morrow I will ask your leave to call upon you in order to formally make my request to yourself and Mr. van Gulpendam, for your daughter's hand. Now, however, let me anticipate that to-morrow and make my petition to you here which it was my intention to lay before you to-morrow. And, may I add to that request, the prayer that you will kindly intercede on my behalf, with Mr. van Gulpendam?" As he made his petition Charles van Nerekool had stopped in his walk and had dropped Laurentia's arm, and now he was looking up into the eyes of Anna's mother, with the beseeching look of yearning love. Knowing the young man's character, it cannot for a moment be supposed that he acted with any view to theatrical effect when he stopped exactly in the centre of one of those strange shadowy glades under the Tjemara trees. The curious light, however, surrounded his head as with a mysterious aureola which made the finely chiselled features of his grave countenance and his fair curls stand out to the greatest advantage. Fair Laurentia was an excellent judge of manly beauty; and the ardent look which she cast upon the young man, as he stood there in an attitude of supplication before her, would have filled Anna with dismay had she been able to see it and been able to understand its significance. The momentary danger, however, fortunately passed away; for the thoughts of the practical woman were just then distracted by the approach of two sons of the Celestial empire, who, walking in an avenue which ran parallel to that in which she was, made the fine gravel crunch under their curiously curved but heavy sandals. These were babah Tang Ing Gwan the major of the Chinese troops at Santjoemeh and babah Lim Yang Bing the opium farmer. They also had come out to enjoy the fresh air, and were honestly confessing to each other that, on the whole, they did not find much amusement in these European entertainments. Said Lim Yang Bing with a most disgusting leer to his companion, "It is only the bare shoulders, arms, &c., of the European ladies and girls that reconcile me in any way to so tedious a party. It cannot be denied that the creatures are well made. But what on earth can the husbands and fathers of these things mean, to come and exhibit them thus publicly; and then what shamelessness, what want of modesty in those white women to show themselves thus, Tjiss! Fie upon them!" "Yes, indeed, Tjiss!" said the Chinese major, an elderly man who with his long grey moustache drooping on to his breast, had a very martial, indeed a venerable appearance. "Yes, Tjiss!" said he, "I would not allow my wife or daughters to appear before me in such dress as that, or rather in such undress!" "Have you noticed the njonja toean Resident?" said Lim Yang Bing. "She--" "Hold your tongue!" whispered the major in a warning voice, "she is standing just there talking to the young judge; what can she have to say to him?" Lim Yang Bing answered not a word; but a low cunning smile played upon his lips. The intrigues of his son Lim Ho were perfectly well known to him. He also remembered his conversation with the Resident--and van Nerekool was a member of the judicial bench. No! the njonja had heard nothing but the crunching of the gravel; but the mere sight of these two Chinamen--and especially the sight of the opium-farmer, which brought at once Lim Ho to her mind, and her arrangements with M`Bok Kârijâh--caused the demon of money to triumph, and put to silence all other passions in her breast. "Mr. van Nerekool," said she in a gentle coaxing tone of voice, "the Resident is not at all so badly disposed towards you as you seem to think. But he is a man who has a great eye for all that is practical.--Allow me to speak and do not interrupt me.--Our conversation has already lasted too long. The world might, you know--But no, you love my daughter do you not?" She hesitated--she stammered, she was trembling all over. Young van Nerekool gazed at her with a strange puzzled expression which she seemed perfectly to understand. "The Resident," she resumed, "will have practical men and--you must pardon me," she continued with slight hesitation, "you must pardon me for saying so; but you are not a practical man. No, no," continued she hastily, "don't look at me like that! You are moving in a world of dreams, which is very far removed indeed from practical every-day life. You picture to yourself an ideal world as different as possible from the one in which we live. And, I can tell you, if you cannot somehow or other manage to wake up out of your day-dreams, you will be in great danger of never making any way at all in the judicial career which you have chosen. Yours is, in sober fact, a most prosaic career; and the one of all others, in which dreams and fancies are utterly out of place." Van Nerekool listened to this homily with the greatest attention and most submissively, though he felt arising within him a nameless feeling of uneasiness which he had much trouble to suppress. "I am prepared to accede to your request," resumed fair Laurentia with her most winning smile, but at the same time emphasizing every syllable as if she counted them,--"I will speak for you, and I will plead your cause with the Resident,--and if I once consent to do that, Anna will be yours." "Oh how can I sufficiently thank you," exclaimed van Nerekool, laying his hand on his heart, as if he wished to keep down its beating. Very little more and he would, in his transport of gratitude, have snatched up Laurentia to his breast and covered her with kisses. Happily, however, he restrained himself,--happily, for who knows what effect such an act might have had upon the excitable woman. "Be calm, Mr. van Nerekool," said she, "be calm. I am ready to intercede for you; but then, on your part, you must make me one promise." "Oh speak, madam, speak--I will in every way--" "Mr. Zuidhoorn," quietly resumed Laurentia, "is, as you may have heard perhaps, on the point of starting for Holland to recruit his health--I am right, am I not?" "Very good," she continued as Charles made a gesture of assent, "there is a case coming before the Court which I am particularly anxious to see satisfactorily settled." "But, madam," interposed the lawyer, "I am a member of the judicial council and have nothing whatever to do with the lower court." "At my recommendation," replied Laurentia, "you will, being one of the junior judges, be appointed President of the lower court pending the arrival of Mr. Zuidhoorn's substitute. That will be a step for you, will it not?" "Certainly it will," said van Nerekool, "I pray you go on." "And--who knows?--But to come to the point. There is a Javanese at present in custody whose name is Ardjan, the fellow has been smuggling opium." Van Nerekool's heart began to throb almost audibly. Of course the mother of his dearest Anna could but wish to help this poor Ardjan out of his trouble, and was about to call upon him to lend her his assistance. He therefore thought that he quite spoke her mind when he interrupted her by saying: "Who is accused of smuggling opium, you mean, dear madam." "That comes to the same thing," replied Mrs. van Gulpendam somewhat tartly. The young lawyer looked up in surprise, he could make nothing of it. "Ardjan," continued Laurentia, again quite calmly, "is an arch-smuggler, he belongs to a family of smugglers. Just lately--a day or two ago--his father was caught in the act, and offered armed resistance to the police in the execution of their duties. Such scum as that must be severely dealt with--do you hear?" "Yes, madam, I hear," said van Nerekool, drily, "I know that he did offer resistance to the authorities; but--as far as opium-smuggling is concerned--" "Smuggling!" cried the lady, vehemently, "is theft--is theft! you know that well enough, Mr. van Nerekool, it is stealing from the revenue, it is stealing from the public purse." "Most undoubtedly it is, madam; but what I wanted to ask is--Has this case of smuggling been properly brought home to them?" "Oh, certainly it has," cried Laurentia. "Ardjan is the guilty man--there is no one else to suspect. Of course, I know well enough that a conspiracy had been formed to cast suspicion upon Lim Ho, the son of the great opium farmer. Now what an absurdity!--the son of the farmer who, with his father, has the greatest interest in stopping all smuggling transactions!--it is simply absurd. I know also that in order further to prejudice Lim Ho, an accusation has been trumped up against him in the upper court, in which he is charged with having flogged Ardjan with Kamadoog leaves. But, of course, Mr. van Nerekool, you will know how to tear to pieces that web of deceit and perjury. You will know how to deal with that nest of smugglers, and make short work of all these perjurers!" "Madam," replied the young man, "you may be quite sure that, if I have the honour of being appointed to the temporary presidency of the lower court, I shall, to the best of my abilities, discharge my duties with the strictest impartiality. He who is in the right shall have justice; and he who is guilty, shall not evade the punishment he deserves. I happen to know something about that smuggling business, and also of the so-called resistance to the police of which Pak Ardjan stands accused, and I think I can assure you that neither father nor son is as culpable as he is supposed to be." "What a downright simpleton the booby is," thought Mrs. van Gulpendam. "Mr. van Nerekool," she whispered in his ear, "the Resident is quite right--You are not a practical man." "But, madam--" "But remember, it is only if you follow my directions, that Anna will be yours. You mind that!" "But," cried Nerekool, in extreme perplexity, "what is it you require me to do?" "Ardjan and his father must both be transported," said Mrs. van Gulpendam, most resolutely. "Where to?--that matters but little--to Deli, to Atjeh--Yes, Atjeh, perhaps, would be the better place." "They will be transported," said Van Nerekool, with equal resolution, "both of them, if they are found guilty." "Guilty or not guilty!" exclaimed Mrs. van Gulpendam, "you will do as I tell you!--Or else--no presidency--You will do as I tell you--or else, depend upon it--no Anna!" The blood flew up into the face of the upright young judge at this intolerable dictation. His whole mind and soul rebelled against such gross injustice. He dropped the arm of the fair temptress, and, without reflecting, he hissed rather than spoke in the heat of his indignation. "Madam, I love your daughter, I dearly love Anna; but to purchase her hand at that price--the price of my own dishonour--Never, never!" "Never?" sneered Laurentia. "No, madam, never, never!" exclaimed van Nerekool. "Why, she herself would be the very first to despise and reject me, could I be guilty of such baseness and accept so odious an offer. But," continued he, suddenly changing his tone, "surely all this is but a jest, surely you are not in earnest!" "I am in right--downright earnest," said Laurentia, sternly. "It is my last word to you--it is war or peace between us--I leave it to your own choice." "I would not willingly make an enemy of anyone," said van Nerekool, very sadly; "but a clear conscience is to me precious above all things. Farewell, madam." He covered his face with both his hands, as he hurried from the spot. For awhile he wandered about in the greatest excitement, seeking the loneliest spots in the garden. Presently, however, he somewhat recovered his composure, and, stunned by the blow that had just fallen on him, he made his way back again to the inner gallery. There he found Matilda van Meidema, who called to him, and said: "Mr. van Nerekool, my friend Anna has requested me to give you a message, it is this. Unless some means of rescue be found, Ardjan's case is hopelessly lost. All the witnesses have either been corrupted or put out of the way, so that his condemnation is certain." "And from whom has Miss Anna got all this information?" asked van Nerekool with a sad absent smile. "She had it from me, Mr. van Nerekool," replied the young girl. "And how did you get to know all this, Miss Meidema?" he asked. "Why, Mr. Judge," said she, "you happen to be in a rather inquisitive mood! I suppose," she continued with a laugh, "your curiosity is professional. The only thing I can tell you is that I have obeyed Anna's orders and delivered my message." Thus saying, with a curtsey she hurried away. Charles wandered about for a while objectless among the guests. But, after his conversation with Laurentia he could find no rest. He looked round for Anna; but she, as daughter of the house, had, on the occasion of a formal party like the present, many duties to perform. Though the young girl's face showed but little enjoyment of the scene around her, yet it wore its usual pleasant smile. It was, however, a forced smile which, to her lover's eye, signified nothing else than anxiety and restlessness. At that sight all desire to remain left him, especially as he knew that he could not venture to approach her. So he went to look for his hat; and having found it, took leave of the Resident and of his wife, and a few minutes after he was gone. "Take care! Think it over well," had been Laurentia's last whispered words as he made his parting bow. CHAPTER XII. HUSBAND AND WIFE.--MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. It was getting rather late in the day. The sun had already risen high when Mr. and Mrs. van Gulpendam took their seat at the breakfast-table in the pandoppo. The Resident, according to his invariable custom, had risen early; but the ladies did not quite so soon recover from the fatigues of the last night's ball. When, at length, fair Laurentia appeared in the pandoppo she found her husband sitting in full dress, light-blue coat and silver buttons on which the arms of Holland shone conspicuous; but evidently in very bad temper. He sat impatiently turning about a paper in his hands: "At last!" he cried. "What do you mean by at last," she rejoined, "I suppose that is to be my good-morning?" "Very likely," said he gruffly. "Now is this breakfast-time I ask you? You know how very busy I am." "Then why did you not have your breakfast before?" asked his wife. "Why? why?" he grumbled, "that is always the way you women put us off! You know I don't like to sit down to meals alone!" "Then why did you not call Anna? She would have had some news to tell you," replied the wife. It appears that, after the party, Laurentia had not taken the trouble to enlighten her husband as to what had occurred on the previous evening. She had so much to do as hostess--and then she had not missed a single dance;--the young men of Santjoemeh had been simply charming! "Anna, Anna," growled van Gulpendam, "why, I have seen nothing of her yet. You women never can have a good stiff run without being knocked up all the next day! But--what is up with Anna? What news may she have to tell me?" "I will leave that to her--Anna!--call your young lady," said Laurentia turning to Dalima, who just then came into the pandoppo. "Miss Anna will be here presently," said the baboe. "But meanwhile," repeated van Gulpendam, "what news has the girl to tell me?" "Oh," said Laurentia wearily, "I would much rather she should herself tell you. She could much better explain it herself why she allowed van Nerekool to kiss her last night in the garden. But, I should like to know what paper that is there in your hand. You know I don't like to see the rubbish at my table. There is room enough in the office for all that sort of thing; and what's more you have my full leave to keep all those things there!" Van Gulpendam had taken the rather startling communication of his wife quite coolly; so coolly, indeed, that it exceedingly provoked fair Laurentia. She had, therefore, sought to vent her displeasure upon something, and that something, she had found in the unlucky piece of paper. "It is a telegram," said van Gulpendam, moodily, "which I have just received, and which has annoyed me not a little." "A telegram?" she cried. "Yes, a message from the Hague. Look! yesterday evening at nine o'clock, this thing was sent off, and this morning by daylight, we have it here." "Well," said Laurentia, in no mood to humour her husband, "do you call that so very quick? Don't you remember Amy's letter, when we had sent her our congratulations on her engagement? Our telegram left the office at Santjoemeh at eleven o'clock, and, she wrote to us, that the very same morning at nine o'clock, it was delivered to her. That's quick if you like--it seems to me, rather more than quick!" "Why, Laurentia" said her husband, "I have explained it to you. The reason lies in the difference of longitude." "Yes, yes, I know all about that, the sun turns--no the earth turns. Oh yes, I know all about it. But that does not alter the fact that it was very quick work. Fancy to receive a telegram, actually before it was sent off! But what can there be in that telegram from the Hague, to put you out so?" "Bah!" said van Gulpendam, "what do you women know about business?" "Yes, but tell me," she insisted, "from whom is it?" "It is from my brother Gerard," replied van Gulpendam shortly. "And what is it about?" asked Laurentia; "now don't keep me waiting, it is not gallant." At the word gallant, van Gulpendam made a wry face, "Oh," said he, "it is about the matter of the Netherland's Lion. Nothing can come to it--unless--" "Yes, unless what?" inquired Laurentia. "Unless the opium monopoly at Santjoemeh, can be made to bring in a great deal more money than it does at present. The estimates of our colonial secretary are not at all approved of, and they reckon upon getting a couple of millions more from that source." "They, they, who are they?" continued Laurentia. "Why--Sidin, pull down the blinds!" said the resident prudently. "That sun," continued he, "is so troublesome shining through the venetians. You ask who are they? Why they are the government, the ministers, the Lower House in fact." "Oh," said Laurentia, carelessly, "is that all?" "Is that all! of course it is," replied her husband grumpily, "quite enough too, you know as well as I do that the farmer pays more than twelve hundred thousand guilders for his privilege." "Well," said Laurentia, "what of that?--next year he will have to put down fifteen or eighteen hundred--there's the end of it." "Of course," growled the Resident, "it is easy enough to say there's the end of it." "When is the contract to be renewed?" asked she. "This September," was the reply. "Very good, then you leave it to me." "Yes, but--" objected van Gulpendam. "Now, my dear," said she, "pray, let us have no fuss, our dear Javanese friends will have to smoke a little more opium apiece--and--you will wear the bertes knabbeldat--what do you call the thing?" "Virtus nobilitat" said van Gulpendam, with dignity. "All right! the Virtus nobilitat, you will wear it in your button hole, but--it will be my doing." "How so?" asked the husband, in surprise. "Now Gulpie, that is my secret. You will see, the opium contract will produce four or six hundred thousand more. Don't therefore let us have any troubling about it before the time. Now let us change the subject. How is it," she continued, "that you took so coolly what I just now told you about Anna? about Anna, you know, and van Nerekool?" "Come," said the Resident, "let us have our breakfast, Anna is not coming down it seems, and I have no time to spare." "All right," said his wife, "let us have breakfast, but that will not, I hope, prevent you from answering my question?" Van Gulpendam shook his head. "Pass the coffee, nènèh," said Laurentia to her maid Wong Toewâ. When the two cups of fragrant coffee stood before the pair, and each had cut a piece of bread, had buttered it, and spread upon it a thin slice of smoked venison, the lady, still anxious to have her answer, asked: "Well now, Gulpie dear?" "If I am ever to succeed in getting more out of the opium contract," said he musingly, "I shall probably want van Nerekool's help." "His help? What? for the opium contract?" said Laurentia, with an innocent smile, as if she understood nothing at all about the matter. "Just listen to me," replied her husband. "If Lim Ho, in that matter, you know, of Ardjan, should be found guilty and condemned--why, then, his father Lim Yang Bing must, of course, be excluded from the competition altogether." "Why so?" asked Laurentia. "Don't you see why?" retorted van Gulpendam--"If for no other reason; then simply to shut the mouth of the papers. What a row they would make if the father of a man found guilty of opium-smuggling and of a barbarous outrage moreover, should have the monopoly granted him. Why it would be worse than the noise about the capstan when they are heaving the anchor!" "But, my dear," objected Laurentia, "do you think that at Batavia they will trouble themselves about the barking of the local papers?" "Yes and no," replied the Resident. "The curs themselves will be despised no doubt; but still, in self-defence, they will have to order an inquiry." "And you will be the man to hold it, won't you?" said Laurentia, with a meaning smile. "Possibly I might be, but what if the Dutch papers were to take up the cry?" "Oh, the Dutch press!" said Laurentia, disdainfully. "It is pretty tame on the subject of opium. It will never join in a cry against it unless it be actually compelled." "Yes," said the Resident, "that's all very fine, but one never can tell how the cat may jump, or what secret influence may be at work. If Lim Ho is found guilty, it would most certainly be advisable that his father should not bid at all for the monopoly." "But," said Laurentia, "he is the wealthiest of the Chinese Company." "I know that as well as you do," grumbled her husband. "Put him aside, and your bids will fall instead of rising," insisted his wife. "No doubt they will--" "And then, my dear Gulpie," said Laurentia, with a laugh, "you may whistle for your bertes knabbeldat." "Just so," said he, moodily. "But, if that be so," persisted Laurentia, "it seems to me that Lim Ho must not be found guilty. He must be got off at any price, that's my way of looking at it." "You are perfectly right, my dear," replied the Resident, "and it is precisely for the purpose of getting him off, that I shall want van Nerekool's help. If he should become our son-in-law--or if the mere prospect of such a thing were to be held up to him--then--I have already told you, that I intend--as soon as Zuidhoorn is out of the way, to appoint him president of the court pro tem." "Yes," broke in Laurentia, hastily, "but he won't hear of it." "Won't hear of it?" said her husband, slowly, and in surprise. "No, he won't hear of it." "How do you know that?" "Well," said Laurentia, "I will tell you. When last night I found these two young people hugging and kissing in the garden, I sent Anna about her business." "Yes," said the Resident, very anxiously, "and then--" "Then I just took the opportunity of sounding the young gentleman." "Of sounding him?" cried van Gulpendam in dismay. "Aye, my word was 'sounding'" replied Laurentia, very quietly, "but I tell you there is no dealing with that fellow." Thereupon Laurentia told her husband pretty accurately what had taken place the night before in the Pandan grove and under the Tjemara trees, and reported to him the conversation she had there held with Charles van Nerekool. She omitted to tell him--very prudently too--that if she, by chance, had had to deal with a man of laxer morals and principles, she would have run great risk of becoming her daughter's rival. When her story was ended, her husband heaved a deep sigh and throwing himself back in his chair he said: "Oh those women, those women! You have gone to work much too rashly," continued he. "You ought to have tacked about instead of running. No doubt you had a fair chance before you--a very nice south easterly trade--but you have thrown it away. You have gone full tilt at your object, and so have overshot your anchorage!" "Oh, bother your tacks and runnings and trades and anchorages," cried fair Laurentia, out of patience, and vexed beyond measure to find that all her fine management was so lightly spoken of. "You just let me alone, that's the best thing you can do." "But," said the Resident, "you have spoilt the whole job!" "There was not much to spoil in the job, I can tell you, there was no doing anything with that booby." Very bitterly indeed did the fair woman speak these words. If but her Gulpie had been able to seize the meaning of her smile. But after all the French realistic school may be right when it says that there is no blinder thing in the world than a husband. At all events, poor van Gulpendam did not see, or he did not understand that peculiar smile. "No doing anything with him, you say? Ah, well, who knows. Just listen to me, Laurie. It is just possible, nay it is probable that, after such a conversation, van Nerekool will shortly--to-day perhaps or to-morrow--come and ask me for our Anna's hand." "Well," said Laurentia, "what then?" "Then I shall see," replied her husband with a self-satisfied smile, "then I shall see what port I must steer for. I may, perhaps, know how to bring him to his bearings. I may be clever enough to drive him into some harbour of refuge." "I hope you may," said Laurentia, incredulously, "but I very much doubt your success." "Meanwhile," resumed van Gulpendam, "you must use all your influence with Anna. It is very likely that van Nerekool will give her a hail before he makes up his mind to board me. Now, should that happen--why then all may be well--You understand me, Laurie, don't you? Anna must be our strongest ally." "But," cried Laurentia, "would you really give our dear, beautiful child to that sanctimonious young prig?" "I must, if I can't manage it otherwise; but, you see we are not on that tack just yet. If once we get into a good steady trade, and we have got what we want--why then, we shall no doubt find some means to get Anna to go about." Laurentia nodded. How little did these two parents know their own child! "And," continued the Resident, cynically, "to heave the love-stricken simpleton overboard as so much useless ballast." "Hush," said he, "here she comes!" "Good morning, Anna, my darling. You have slept soundly, I daresay, after your night's dissipation. How she did enjoy herself! How the little corvette ran from the slips! Why! you did not miss a single dance!" Anna, to use her father's favourite phraseology, was thoroughly taken aback. Her father then, had heard nothing at all about it--absolutely nothing! After her adventure in the garden, she quite anticipated stern faces in the morning, and was prepared for a good scolding. That, indeed, was partly the reason why she had lingered so much longer than usual in her room. And now, lo and behold! her father greeted her more kindly and more cheerfully than ever before. Perhaps mamma had had no time to make the serious communication. No, that was hardly possible, her parents had been for a considerable time together in the pandoppo, she knew that from Dalima. And yet--well--she replied to her father's hearty greeting with an equally hearty kiss, and was just turning to her mother when van Gulpendam said: "That's right--now I have had my breakfast, I have had my morning kiss--now I must be off to work, there is plenty of it waiting for me. I must leave you ladies alone." "Anna," continued he, more seriously, "listen attentively to what your mother will have to say to you. Remember you must take all that she will tell you as if it came from me. Good-bye, Anna, good-bye, Laurentia." And off he was, through the inner, into the front gallery, where he met his private secretary who had been, for some time, waiting for him. He shook hands, offered him a cigar, took one himself, and proceeded with great care to light it at the match which his oppasser respectfully offered him. When it was well lighted, he handed the taper to his subordinate, who addressed himself as carefully and as systematically as his chief to the important function of lighting his cigar. This done, the two officials walked for awhile up and down the roomy gallery, discussing the morning's news, and making arrangements for the day's work which lay before them. Meanwhile, nonna Anna had exchanged her customary morning greeting with her mother, and had sat down by her side at the breakfast table, while baboe Dalima offered her the cup of coffee which she had poured out at the little side-table. "It is nice, miss Anna," said she, with a pleasant smile to her youthful mistress. Anna gave her a friendly little nod, took up the cup, and slowly sipped the fragrant decoction, now and then passing the tip of her tongue over her rosy lips as if unwilling to lose the least drop. When the little cup was empty, she handed it back to the baboe, with the words: "Another cup." "Engèh, Nana," answered Dalima, as she took the cup and hastened to the side-table. Then Anna buttered a slice of bread; but she did this so slowly and deliberately, with such an amount of concentrated attention indeed, that it was clear her mind was not upon what she was doing. In fact, she dreaded the opening of the impending conversation. Laurentia sat next to her daughter not speaking a single word; but keeping her eye constantly upon the girl. Very steadily she looked at her, and very kindly too. She sat admiring the pure, fresh complexion of the young girl, who, although she had passed a great part of the night in dancing, and had probably slept but very little during the remaining portion, was still as clear and bright as ever. She admired also her slim yet well rounded form, admirably set off by the pretty kabaja, and she sat calculating to what extent those charms might have captivated that cold and pensive van Nerekool, to what extent they might force him to bow his neck under the yoke which was being prepared for him. But, if the mother's eye brightened as she looked upon her daughter's beauty, yet, amidst all this admiration, one sad thought would come up to her mind. More than a quarter of a century ago, van Hoop gave that thought utterance when he said: "Daughter a-courting--mother grows old." And then there came over her a feeling of jealousy, as she thought of the manly beauty of Charles van Nerekool, who had treated her with such strange indifference. Would she have to give up all hope of entangling that young man if he could be made to despair of ever obtaining Anna's hand? But--away with all such idle thoughts and fancies. The words of her husband were still ringing in her ears. Her business was to save the son of the opium-farmer, if she wished to see her dear Gulpie's breast adorned with the bertes knabbeldat. Thus, in silence, the daughter and the mother sat side by side. The former could not trust herself to speak, and tried to hide her confusion by affecting to be wholly engrossed in her breakfast, for which, if the truth were told, she felt but very little appetite. The latter sat collecting her thoughts, and making up her mind how best to make the attack. At length, Laurentia began in the most affectionate manner. "Anna, my dear child, now just tell me what could have induced you to walk about in the garden alone with Mr. van Nerekool last night?" "Mother," stammered the girl, in dire confusion. "You need not blush so, my dear child," continued her mother; "I saw quite enough yesterday to tell me all that is going on. But that does not make it clear to me how you formed that attachment. I fancy, Anna," she continued, "I fancy I have some right to your confidence, have I not?" "O mother!" cried the poor girl, "I cannot myself explain to you how it all happened." "But, Anna!" "I love Charles," cried Anna, wildly; "I love him, that is all I know about it!" "But tell me, Anna, have you ever seriously asked yourself whether you feel for him that deep and lasting affection without which no woman ought to permit the addresses of any man?" "Yes, mother." "Have you asked yourself whether this man, who has for the moment gained your affections, is the one to whom you are prepared to devote your whole life?" "Yes, mother," replied Anna, bravely, "yes, mother, for my love for him rests entirely on the noble qualities which distinguish him from all others. It is his honest heart especially which has won my love." "Now all this, Anna," resumed Mrs. van Gulpendam, "is somewhat frivolous." "Frivolous, mother!" cried the young girl; "do you call it frivolous that my eye has been open not to mere outward show, not to the mere superficial varnish and polish of society; but to genuine and substantial qualities, to sterling firmness of character and to honesty of principle?" "Tut, tut, tut!" exclaimed Laurentia, "these are mighty fine words indeed." "Do you disapprove of my choice, mother dear?" asked Anna. "Disapprove," said Laurentia, gravely, "no, my child, it is not I who disapprove." "Oh! yes; I know that papa is not at all fond of Mr. van Nerekool!" Mrs. van Gulpendam made no reply to this exclamation. "Have you loved him long?" asked she at length. "Yes, mamma; my love for him has grown without my knowing it." "Come now, Anna," said Laurentia, with a sad incredulous smile, "come now." "I do assure you," pleaded the girl, "it was altogether without my knowledge." "How then, and when did you discover that you were in love with him?" persisted her mother. "You know, mamma, do you not? that he used to visit here frequently--very frequently." "Well, yes," said Laurentia, "I know that; but that is no answer to my question." "During his visits here," continued the young girl, "I was generally alone in his company. At one time you would be engaged at cards; at another you were surrounded by your friends and taken up in discussing some article of toilette or deep in the secrets of a plum-pudding. At another time again, you, as hostess and wife of the chief man in the district, had to do the honours of the house and had to occupy yourself with generals, colonels, presidents and such like; and amidst all this business you had no time to devote to your daughter--" "But," cried Laurentia, interrupting her daughter's words; "that sounds very much like a reproach." "Do let me get on, mother dear," implored Anna; "do let me get on. You have asked me how that affection arose in my heart--I would now lay open my heart to you; you have a right to it; you are my mother." "Then," she resumed, "I felt myself so utterly lonely in those gay circles in which commonplace, self-sufficiency, mediocrity, and frivolity reigned supreme. I felt myself so lonely in the midst of that buzz of conversation which, to me, had no attraction--in the midst of all those people for whom I had the greatest aversion--" "Anna, Anna!" cried her mother, "take care of what you are saying. Remember it is your parents' friends and your parents' company that you are thus censuring." "Is it my fault, dearest mother," continued Anna, "that I feel a distaste for all such society? Have you not often felt the same aversion--tell me, mother dear?" Laurentia gave no reply; she seemed to devour her daughter's words. "Go on," said she, somewhat sternly. "Then," resumed Anna, "I used to slip away quietly to my piano; there I found one never-failing means of getting rid of the company I disliked--then--" "Oh! yes," said Laurentia, sarcastically, "then my daughter used to plunge into Beethoven, Mendelsohn, Mozart, Chopin and all the rest of them, and neglect the world--" "No, mother," hastily broke in Anna, "not neglect--but tried for a while to forget the world which for me, as I have said, has no attractions--in the glorious realm of music, which, as a paradise, lay open before me." "That is a mighty fine speech," said Laurentia, with mocking lip but with moistened eye; for the emotional woman could not, with all her cynicism, remain unmoved at her daughter's enthusiasm. "Very fine, indeed; but, all this, remember, does not explain to me how you first came to discover that you were in love with van Nerekool." "Among all the company which surrounded you," continued Anna, "there were but very few indeed who could resist the temptation of a quadrille-party, of some political dispute or of a description of a white damask burnouse to--" "To group themselves around the priestess of Harmony," said Mrs. van Gulpendam, with a good-natured smile. "To enjoy some better and higher pleasure than the trivial conversation of the so-called beau monde," continued Anna. "Among those few was Mr. van Nerekool, or rather I should say he was the only one; for even if now and then some young man would come and stand at my piano for a moment or two,--he did so--not for the sake of the music, still less for the sake of her who played it--" "Now, Anna dear!" broke in Mrs. van Gulpendam, "we are getting a little too modest I think!" "Still less I said," continued the young girl, not noticing the interruption, "for the sake of her who played it; but merely because I happened to be the daughter of the Resident to which some little compliment ought now and then to be paid, and some little politeness was due. All these would run away quickly enough the moment the cards were brought in or the moment they heard some quotation from the colonial news in the Java papers. Then it was that I was left alone with Charles. I found in him a true lover of music, and one who can feel what music means! Thus we were generally isolated in the midst of a crowd, and thus used we to express our feelings in the delicious melody which our fingers could produce--No, no, dear mother," she continued, most seriously, "pray do not smile. On such occasions never one word escaped from the lips of either of us which could convey the slightest hint of what was passing in our hearts. That word might perhaps have remained unspoken; for I am convinced that van Nerekool was thinking as little about love as I was, and that we both felt nothing more than a mutual attraction to one another. But last night--during the Invitation à la valse, our secret slipped out--and oh, dearest mother, you yourself witnessed our first kiss!" As she spoke these words the young girl gently laid her head upon her mother's breast, who flung her arm around her as she looked into her daughter's appealing eyes. "And now, mother," continued Anna, softly, "can you forgive your child for having obeyed the voice of her heart?" "My darling girl," said Laurentia, "not only do I forgive you for what was no more than natural; but what is more, I can tell you that circumstances might arise which would make me fully approve of your choice." "Approve of my choice, mother!" exclaimed the girl. "Oh, you make me happy indeed!" And kneeling down, she hid her face in her mother's lap and broke out into convulsive sobs which shook her entire frame. Laurentia, wholly unprepared for this storm of passion, lifted her up and tried to soothe her. "Come, now, Anna," said she, "try and be calm; try and compose yourself! How can my simple words have moved you so? Could you possibly suspect me of not doing my utmost to secure your happiness?" "My happiness!" cried the young girl. "Yes, my happiness--yes, dearest mother, that is the right word--it is indeed my happiness," continued she, as she covered her mother's face with kisses. "Now, Anna," at length said Laurentia, anxious to put an end to this tender effusion, "do sit down quietly by my side, as you were sitting just now, and then with your hand in mine and your eye fixed on mine, we can talk over this delicate matter quietly. Come and sit down here close to my heart." She pressed her child's head to her bosom. It was a pretty picture, but it conveyed, alas! the exact contrary of the story of the serpent and the husbandman. "But," asked Anna, anxiously, and folding her hands as if in prayer, "do you think papa will ever give his consent?" "I think he may," replied Laurentia. "Oh, that would be a blessing!" cried Anna. "Don't you think, mammy dear, that would be too great a blessing?" "No, Anna, not at all, now listen to me. Your father will not be very easily won, in fact we shall have to take him by storm." "Dear mother," cried Anna, "have you not spoken to papa about it yet?" "Not only will it be hard to gain him" continued Laurentia, coldly, without noticing her daughter's interruption, "but something would have to happen by which van Nerekool might conciliate him." "I feel certain, dearest mother," cried Anna, "that Charles will do anything to obtain my hand!" "Do you?" asked Laurentia. "He would do anything you say. Are you quite sure that you are not just a little too sanguine?" "Oh, mother dear!" cried the girl in a deprecating tone. "Yes, I said too sanguine; for I have some reason to fear that Charles is not quite so deeply in love as he would wish you to suppose." "Mother!" cried Anna, looking up at her reproachfully. "Don't interrupt me, Anna. Last night, as you know, I remained for some time in the garden with Mr. van Nerekool after I had, from his own lips, heard the confession of his love." "Mamma dear!" cried the young girl, breathlessly, "his confession did you say!" "Now pray don't excite yourself," said Laurentia with an icy smile. "After he had confessed his attachment to you--I opened to him the prospect, not only of obtaining your father's consent--" "Oh, mother, dear, how kind of you," now sighed the young girl as she covered Laurentia's face with kisses. Laurentia gently put her aside and resumed: "I opened to him not only the prospect of gaining your father's consent; but I further proposed to him a means of greatly improving his own position, and of thus making his marriage with a girl like you, more possible." "A girl like me?" asked Anna in surprise. "Am I then unlike all other girls that a marriage with me would be less possible?" "My dear child," said Laurentia, "listen to reason. You know that from your childhood you have been brought up in the midst of a certain degree of luxury,--now surely you would not like to renounce all these comforts, to which you have been born and bred and--" "For the man I love I would sacrifice anything!" eagerly cried the girl. "Yes, I know," replied Laurentia coldly, "all that reads very well in a novel; but you will not find that it will stand the test of experience. In practical everyday life the saying is but too true: 'When poverty enters at the door, love flies out at the window.'" "Oh!" cried Anna, "there is no fear of that with me and Charles." "That is all very fine," continued Laurentia, "but we, your parents, we who have to entrust your future happiness to a husband, we must take care that that husband can offer you a home free from the anxieties of poverty. Now we were in hopes that we might have met Mr. van Nerekool half way in this matter--But--" "But--what mamma? oh, tell me what he said." "Why, he had only one word to say--and that word was 'never.'" "Never," cried Anna, "I do not quite understand you, mother. You told me that he confessed to you that he loves me--you showed him some prospect of winning my hand and he replies 'never!' How can that possibly be?" "I placed a condition before him," said Laurentia somewhat nervously. "A condition!" cried Anna, "what might that be?" "Well--it was a condition of marriage--if you will have it plainly." "And--" cried Anna, "to that condition of marriage he replied 'never?' I am more puzzled than ever." "It was after all but a very trifling matter," said Laurentia, "it was merely just a little thing to please your father and, by complying with it, Mr. van Nerekool might have helped your father to win honour and glory--and, moreover, he might have considerably improved his own position." "Oh, dearest mother," said Anna, "there must be some misunderstanding, Charles is a noble fellow--it is the true nobility of his soul which mainly attracted me to him--Why! not many weeks ago he promised to help me in saving the lover of my baboe and would he now--?" "What?" exclaimed Laurentia, "the lover of your baboe?" "Yes," replied Anna, "of baboe Dalima. But what has that to do with it?" "That is the very case!" cried Mrs. van Gulpendam, "I was recommending him to--" "Well, then you see," said Anna, quietly, as she interrupted her mother, "you see clearly there must be some misunderstanding--all that will very easily be explained. Tell me, pray, what condition did you propose to van Nerekool?" "Yes," said Laurentia slowly after a moment's pause, "you are the only one who can arrange this matter. And, pray remember, that this is a question upon which depends van Nerekool's future career--and your own marriage." And then, the proud ambitious woman told her daughter that she was bent upon obtaining for her husband the order of the Netherland's Lion; that this distinction, however, would not be got unless the returns of the opium trade at Santjoemeh improved considerably--that in fact the Virtus nobilitat was to be the price for the increase in the revenue of Holland. "But," continued Laurentia, "in order to make that increase possible, Lim Yang Bing must continue to hold the opium monopoly--and that he must cease to do if his son Lim Ho be found guilty of smuggling and of outrage upon the natives. Therefore we are under the cruel necessity--!" As her mother began to speak Anna listened attentively; as she continued, the girl sat with her eyes fixed on her mother's lips as though she would read the words before she uttered them; at these last words, she flew up wild and furious and passionately broke in upon Laurentia's speech: "Ardjan is to be sacrificed, that my father may get the Netherland's Lion--that never--no, mother, do you hear me, that cannot--that shall not be!" "But, Anna!" exclaimed Laurentia much alarmed at her daughter's violence, "pray do not excite yourself so!" "And did you make that proposal to Charles?--Yes? Oh, then I am wretched indeed!" "But, Anna--" Laurentia began to say. "Now I understand his 'never,'" said the girl bitterly. "No, he is right, never, never shall he marry the daughter of such parents as mine!" At these words she dashed out of the pandoppo and locked herself in her own room. CHAPTER XIII. A RIDE TO BANJOE PAHIT. AMOKH! "Now are you ready to start?" With this question, Edward van Rheijn came rushing into van Nerekool's room on Saturday afternoon. "Yes, I am quite ready," answered his friend; "but how about horses?" "Oh! Verstork has taken good care of that," was van Rheijn's reply, "if you will let me send out your servant for a few moments you will have them prancing at the door in less than ten minutes." The young men had not long to wait, for they had scarcely time to drink a glass of beer and light a cigar, before two excellent saddle horses made their appearance. They were well-bred Makassars, not so perfect in shape, and handsome to look at as Kadoeërs or Battakers; but good serviceable animals with broad, well made chests, indicating both strength and endurance, and provided with good sinewy legs which, if not particularly symmetrical, were strong and fit for hard work. In a twinkling, the young men were in the saddle. "And now, your rifle?" said Edward. "Sidin, give me the gun," said van Nerekool to his servant. The man handed to his master the splendid rifle which, at his request, the regent of Santjoemeh had lent to the judicial functionary. Charles slung the weapon by the strap over his shoulder, put a couple of revolvers into his holsters; so that, as far as arms went, he was almost as well off as his friend van Rheijn. A few moments later, the pair had left Santjoemeh, and at a brisk trot were riding eastward in the direction of Banjoe Pahit, which was their destination. They did not talk much by the way, in fact only a word now and then passed between them. There was indeed no very great inducement to conversation; for, though the road they were following was fairly well shaded by Tamarind and Kanan trees, yet the tropical heat was most oppressive, and would not much decrease until the sun was nearing the horizon. But it was only three in the afternoon, so that the orb of day was still far from the end of his journey. The horses, however, were high-mettled and indefatigable and kept up a good pace, at a trot where the road was level, and breaking into a gallop, when it ran up hill. The noble animals very seldom required to be pulled up to a walk, and could not long be kept to that pace to which they were but little accustomed. Moreover, the scenery through which the two friends were passing might well, in every sense of the word, be called enchanting. First their road lay through pleasant looking dessas, whose dark roofs of atap-leaves and golden yellow fences, formed a most agreeable prospect in the midst of the dark foliage of the fruit trees which completely overshadowed them. Next came plantations of cocoa-nut trees where the slender palms planted in regular rows, lifted up high in the air their waving plume-like tops, and cast curious ever-changing shadows on the turf which covered the ground. Further on still, as squares on a vast chess-board, were seen the extensive rice-fields, the dikes or mounds which bounded them richly overgrown with grass or shaded by toeri or klampies bushes showing quite distinctly, while the rice-fields themselves lay, at this time of the year, glittering in the sunlight, like so many huge water-tanks; for after harvest they are flooded, and then present an aspect of molten silver enclosed in frames of bright green. Then behind the rice-fields arose the stately mountains which densely covered with virgin forest, formed a deep band of dark-green around the glittering squares. Further on again, in the far distance, all became indistinct, and assumed a uniform deep purple hue which contrasted sharply and most beautifully with the light azure of the sky above. Now and then, after the horses had had a long stiff gallop up a more than usually steep slope, they would require a few minutes' rest; then the riders upon looking back, caught glimpses of the Java sea which lay on the horizon, shining under the sun's beams like a boundless mirror on which the white sails of the ships appeared as hovering sea-gulls, or the thick smoke from some steamer's funnel curled darkly over the watery expanse. Thus, our young friends had but little time to notice the intensity of the heat. Their's was still that happy time of life in which man is most capable of enjoying all that is grand and beautiful. Both of them also were of a somewhat poetical nature, and the ever-varying scenery which to the right and to the left lay stretched out before them, could not fail to captivate and charm them by its sublimity and its beauty. Time had indeed flown with them, when, in the neighbourhood of a small dessa called Kalimatti, they caught sight, in the distance, of four gentlemen, followed by a numerous escort all mounted and spurring on to meet them. "Hurrah!" cried van Rheijn, "there is William Verstork. Look, Charles, that man yonder on the fine iron-grey riding at the head of the party!" "Who are those with him?" asked van Nerekool--"Why if my eyes don't deceive me--they are August van Beneden, Leendert Grashuis, Theodoor Grenits and--by Heaven--yes, Fritz Mokesuep also!" "You are right!" shouted his companion, "and escorted by the wedono, the djoeroetoelies, the loerah, the kebajan, the kamitoewag, the tjank (native chiefs) good Heavens!--by all the district and dessa-grandees of Banjoe Pahit and their whole suite! And," he continued, as he drew nearer, "upon my word all in full dress on their little horses, with tiger-skin saddle-cloths and richly embroidered red velvet or cloth saddles. Hurrah, capital fun!" cried Edward van Rheijn, greatly excited as he waved his pith helmet to the advancing troop. "Hurrah, hurrah!" shouted the others gleefully, and soon the group of horsemen had joined the two friends and greetings and welcomes were warmly exchanged. "You seem to be out of spirits, Charles," said Verstork to van Nerekool as he shook his hand; "what is the matter with you, old fellow--I hope you are not ill?" "No, thank you," replied the other, "I am perfectly well. I will tell you by-and-by what ails me." "Mr. van Nerekool is suffering perhaps from the effects of a refusal," remarked one of the young fellows who had accompanied Verstork. The controller cast a look at his friend and noticed at once that the random and heedless shaft had struck home. He therefore at once changed the conversation and said, "If you are not unwell then let us forward to Banjoe Pahit." "Gentlemen," he cried, "by threes trot!" and a moment after he gave the word "Gallop!" just like some old cavalry officer. There was no need of the spur,--the fiery horses at once dashed forward, and away went the little band of friends galloping down the avenue which lay stretched out before them, and which, with its soft carpet of turf, hardly gave out a sound under the horses' hoofs. "Capital road this," cried one of the company. "It speaks highly for the care the controller takes of his district!" William Verstork gave him an approving nod, he was evidently by no means insensible to the compliment. "Good means of communication, my friend, are the highways to prosperity," replied he sententiously. "No doubt," observed another with a scornful smile, "if the population is allowed to make use of them!" Behind the party of European horsemen, at the distance prescribed by etiquette, followed the native chiefs with their retinue. They were all mounted on spirited little horses of pure native breed, which were quite able to keep up with the pace of the others, and might perhaps, in a long journey, have outstayed them. Now, while this cavalcade is rapidly moving on to Banjoe Pahit, we will seize the opportunity of making a slight acquaintance with the companions Verstork had brought with him. We will do this in as few words as possible, as some of them, at least, are only casually connected with this narrative. Augustus van Beneden was a native of Gelderland, a fine healthy looking fellow of about twenty, whose yellow curly hair and firm, yet open countenance were characteristic of the inhabitants of the Betuwe. He was a barrister by profession, and had lately settled down in Santjoemeh where he was beginning to get a fairly good practice. Leendert Grashuis, a South-Hollander, held the position of deputy surveyor at the land registry office of Santjoemeh. He was an excellent mathematician, and had greatly distinguished himself in the geodetic and geomorphic sciences. As surveying engineer, his services were invaluable in all questions which had to do with the fixing of the boundaries of property in the residence. When he entered upon his duties, he found the whole matter of boundaries in the most utter confusion--a confusion, which became only worse confounded, when, in settling disputes about real property, the official maps had to be produced and appealed to. When called upon to give his decision, Leendert Grashuis always was on the side of right and equity, and offered the most determined opposition to all manner of rapacity or exaction, even should it happen to be the Government itself which made the encroachment. He was about seven and twenty years of age, and upon his agreeable exterior, good-nature and perfect sincerity were so plainly stamped, that he was a universal favourite with all who had the privilege of knowing him. Theodoor Grenits also, was a man of a similar nature. He was a native of Limburg, and, in his intercourse with his neighbours the Belgians, had acquired a good deal of the free and easy manner of that nation. He, therefore, was more especially in request in company where youth and pleasure presided. He had received his early education at the Athenæum at Maastricht, and had then gone to Leyden to complete his legal studies. But in these studies, he had most signally failed. Now he was employed in a merchant's office, and was striving, by strict attention to his work and by diligence, to make up, in a mercantile career, for the time he had wasted at the University. But, though no great student, he also was a right noble and honest young fellow, and in thorough sympathy with the company in which we just now have met him. Fritz Mokesuep, however, was a man of totally different stamp, and was in every way the very opposite of the others. He was about thirty years old and was a clerk in the revenue office at Santjoemeh. Education he had none; for at a very early age his father had placed him in the office of a tax-collector in a small provincial town in Holland. This want of education necessarily closed to him the prospect of rising in the social scale, which, however, he was very ambitious of doing. An opportunity had offered, which he thought would enable him to attain his object. The Colonial Secretary, having need of the services of men acquainted with certain special branches in the collection of the revenue which were at that time badly managed in Dutch India, offered to send out thither a certain number of men thus specially qualified, without demanding any further examination whatever. Of this offer Mokesuep had taken advantage, in the hope that adroitness and suppleness of spirit might, in those far-away possessions, supply for him the place of more solid attainments. In this hope, however, he was doomed to be disappointed, for, having on his arrival in Batavia, been placed as third clerk in the department of finance, he had very soon given abundant evidence of the exceeding narrowness of his views and abilities; and thus he was packed off to Santjoemeh in the capacity which he was now still occupying there, and which bid fair to be his "bâton de maréchal." He was literally a "tax-collector" in the least favourable sense of the word; and, upon his naturally depraved character, the very nature of his office had had a still more depraving effect. He was artful, cunning, hypocritical, and thoroughly false by nature. His only pleasure in the world was to scrape and to hoard, and he scrupled not to employ any means, even lying and cheating, to gratify his passion. This grasping instinct of his came out, of course, most strongly in his mode of collecting the taxes; and the narrowness of his mind showed itself in the petty annoyances with which he was perpetually plaguing all those with whom he came into official contact. His greatest enjoyment was in extorting the last half-cent though he would never protect anyone against demands however excessive. On the contrary, the Indian Government might safely reckon upon his co-operation, whenever money had to be squeezed out, even though it might be by means the most arbitrary and the most unjust. His outward appearance, was entirely in harmony with his character. His head was small, gradually growing narrower towards the top, and was sparsely covered with chestnut hair, which he wore plastered against the temples, in two elegant curls by means of bandoline, gum, starch, fishlime, or some such abomination. His face was long and angular, and wore that faded yellow look which sometimes, a towel will assume when allowed to lie for a long time unused, in a drawer or cupboard. His nose was well-formed and sharp; but with the projecting lips of his small mouth, it formed a profile something between that of a baboon and a ferret--at all events, it plainly enough indicated that he belonged to the family of the rodentia. That was the reason, perhaps, why he was familiarly called Muizenkop (mouse-head). Not a vestige of hair or down appeared on his chin or lip--in fact a Jesuit father might have envied him his sallow faded complexion. How could a man like William Verstork have ever admitted such a fellow into his company? The reason was obvious. Mokesuep was the strict letter of fiscal regulations incarnate, and as the controller wanted to have as little as possible to do with the narrow minded quibblings of the financial department, he had attached this man to his staff, who, if he did not always give him the best advice with regard to excise questions, at all events protected him against unpleasant remarks. While the reader has been occupying himself with these very slight personal sketches, the cavalcade had traversed the distance which lay between the dessas Kalimatti and Banjoe Pahit, and now was just entering the latter place. Banjoe Pahit, a large dessa, pleasantly situated in a mountainous part of the island had, on that afternoon, in honour of its expected guests, donned its festive attire. On all sides the inhabitants appeared out of doors, even the women and children all in their very best apparel which they generally wore only on Fridays. At the flag-staff, which stood in the grounds of the Controller's quarters, a brand-new Dutch flag was flying. The Wedono, the Loerah, and other principal men of the dessa--aye, even the public vaccinator and the Mohammedan priest had followed that example, and expressed their zeal on this occasion, and their goodwill, by hoisting the tricolor by the side of their houses on the bamboo pole from which usually a dovecote used to dangle. The cymbals also were sounding merrily, and imparted to the demonstrations of the inhabitants, who all had turned out to welcome the strange gentlemen, a very characteristic and local stamp. "Upon my word," cried Edward van Rheijn, once again, "capital fun--our Controller is giving us a grand reception--that is a good beginning." "I have no hand, whatever, in that fun," replied Verstork. "The people are rejoicing because you have come to rid them of the swarms of tjellings, which ravage their fields to a frightful extent. You will see how enthusiastically they will turn out to-morrow to help us in beating up the game." The cavalcade had now entered the grounds, in which stood the Controller's house, and the riders were dismounting. "Gentlemen," said Verstork addressing van Nerekool and van Rheijn, "I bid you welcome to my poor dwelling." And then more generally to the company, he said: "We shall take a few minutes to make ourselves comfortable after our hot ride, and have a bath, and then it will be time to sit down to dinner." "So early as this?" asked one of the guests. "To be sure," replied Verstork, "for after we have had something to eat--which meal you must take as a hunter's dinner, substantial but short--we shall have to get into the saddle again, to make a reconnaissance at the Djoerang Pringapoes, for we must settle before sunset where our battue will have to start from, and where we shall have to post ourselves and lie in wait for the animals." "But we shall have the moon to-night, shall we not?" enquired van Rheijn. "I even fancy that it is full moon." "You are quite right," said Verstork, "and we shall need it, too, on our ride home. Believe me, our arrangements will take up some considerable time; and then we shall all have to turn in early, because to-morrow by daybreak we must be at our posts in the Djoerang, and begin work." Then turning to two of the Javanese chiefs, who had followed the party into the grounds, he continued: "Wedono and you Loerah, you will both, I hope, presently, ride with us to the Djoerah?" "Yes, kandjeng toean," was their reply. "Thanks; you will stay to dinner?" But, in the most courteous manner possible, both the Javanese begged to be excused;--they had some business to transact at home--at the time appointed, however, they would be quite ready to start. They did not say--which was indeed the reason of their refusal--that they feared that among the viands pork might be included, or that some of the dishes might be prepared with lard or some other ingredient derived from the accursed and unclean beast. The sun had just set, when the sportsmen had finished their survey of the principal approaches to the Djoerang Pringapoes, and had made all the necessary arrangements with the two Loerahs of Banjoe Pahit and of Kaligaweh, for placing the marksmen, and other matters pertaining to the morrow's sport. They happened to be just then in the lower part of the Djoerang, where a small stream, which runs right through the ravine, flows down over its rocky bed, forming a series of small cataracts and eddies which contribute to make the landscape, already a beautiful one, the most picturesque spot in the whole Residence of Santjoemeh. A few hundred yards off, in the rice-plain, lay the dessa Kaligaweh, bathed in all the wondrous tints with which the setting sun coloured the evening sky, and cast its reflection in the waters of the rice-fields which, here, were flooded as elsewhere. With its trees, its palms, its bamboos, its orchards, which almost entirely embosomed the little yellow-fenced huts, that little dessa casting its image upon the watery mirror, formed a scene of such magic beauty that the Europeans could not tear themselves from so lovely a view. Nor until the glorious tints began slowly to fade away before the rising moon, could they make up their minds to turn homeward. They were just saying good-bye to the Loerah of Kaligaweh, and were impressing upon him the necessity of bringing up his people early next morning, and were turning their horses' heads and preparing for a sharp gallop back to Banjoe Pahit when--suddenly in the direction of the last named dessa, there was heard a frightful tumult. All started and stood still, and listened in the utmost astonishment. The yelling and screaming continued, and then amidst the confused noise made by the shrieks of women and children, the dreadful word, "Amokh, Amokh!" (murder) was distinctly heard. "What on earth can all this mean, Loerah?" cried Verstork to the chief of the dessa who was still by his side. "I don't know, kandjeng toean," replied he; "but I will ride off at once and find out." "Wait a bit," cried another, "here comes a policeman running like mad." So it was; panting and almost completely out of breath one of those canaries (so called from their yellow braided uniforms) came running up along a pathway which led across the sawah-fields to the Djoerang Pringapoes. As soon as he got up to the group of horsemen he squatted down by the Controller's horse and made the sembah. "Kandjeng toean," he panted, "they are running Amokh in the dessa yonder. One bandoelan has been already krissed and a policeman severely wounded." "Who is running Amokh?" cried Verstork. "I don't know, kandjeng toean," replied the man. "Women and children are flying about yelling and screaming and I hurried off at once to fetch the Loerah; but as I ran along I heard that Setrosmito is the murderer." "Setrosmito!" exclaimed Verstork in utter amazement. "What, old Setrosmito? Quite impossible; is it not, Loerah?" "No, kandjeng toean," was the chief's reply. "But the man is much too quiet a fellow for that," continued the Controller. "Moreover, he is not given to opium smoking, is he?" "No kandjeng toean," was the cautious reply. The screaming still continued, and though it was already growing dusk, people could be distinctly seen running about wildly in the dessa. "Come, gentlemen," said Verstork to his friends, "my presence is required yonder. Will you come with me? If we make haste we can get there in a minute or two." "All right," cried the young men with one voice; "lead on, we follow you." There was but one of the little party who ventured to ask: "Is it quite safe, do you think?" That man was Mokesuep; but his objection was lost to the others. They had already followed Verstork's example, and digging their spurs in their horses' flanks were tearing along the road to Kaligaweh. Mokesuep had not, however, made up his mind. He was not quite so rash as that. Dreadful tales of "Amokh runners" were crossing his brain. For a moment or two he stood irresolute not well knowing what he had better do; but just then the shrieks redoubled while the gongs were beaten furiously. That was quite enough for him. Thought he to himself: "In such cases it is most prudent to take care and keep a whole skin." So he turned his horse, gave it the spurs and galloped off to Banjoe Pahit instead of to Kaligaweh. As they were riding to Kaligaweh, Verstork thought it well to caution his friends by telling them that in cases of Amokh running the thing is to be on one's guard, and that fear and panic only serve to make matters worse and increase the danger. "At all events," said he, "keep your revolvers ready." His caution was, however, not needed. When the horsemen came racing into the dessa they met a few frightened women clasping their little ones to their breast as if to protect them; but all the men were standing with lance or kris in hand drawn up around a little hut which was closed, and about which there was nothing in any way remarkable. "If he comes out we must catch him on our lances," was the cry. "What is all this confusion about?" cried Verstork, leaping from his horse, throwing the bridle to one of the bystanders, and stepping into the ring. "Setrosmito has been running Amokh," was the reply from all sides. "Setrosmito, how is it possible?" muttered the Controller, inaudibly. But scarcely had he uttered the words, before the door of the cabin flew open and Setrosmito appeared on the threshold. He was an elderly man with grizzly hair which was flying in wild confusion about his head. His jacket was torn to ribbons and a few shreds of it only hung from one of his arms. His face, breast and hands were smeared with blood, so that the poor wretch looked a hideous object. "There he is, there he is," shouted the mob. "Now look out!" Every lance-point was at once thrown forward in anticipation of a mad rush. "I don't wish to hurt anybody," cried Setrosmito, to his fellows of the dessa. "But let no one come near me to lay a hand on me; the first that touches me is a dead man!" With so frantic a gesture did he wave his kris, and so ghastly did he look in his frenzy, that the crowd rushed back in dismay. Thus Verstork, who the instant before had stood lost in the press, now found himself standing in the foreground. No sooner, however, had the unfortunate Javanese caught sight of the white man than he cried out in piteous tones. "Pardon, kandjeng toean, pardon," and hurling his kris from him he flung himself at the Controller's feet. "Pardon, pardon, kandjeng toean!" he cried again and again. All this had passed with lightning rapidity--so quickly, indeed, that the bystanders scarcely knew what was going on. When the man besmeared with blood had advanced towards the Controller, many thought that the latter's life was in danger. His friends, revolver in hand, rushed forward to protect him, the natives also were springing forward to despatch the now defenceless murderer. But Verstork calmly stopped them, put the foremost back with his hand, and restrained the others by crying out in a tone of command: "Back, all of you! Keep back from the man. Do you hear?" And going up to the crouching wretch, who was still crying in an imploring tone of voice "Pardon, kandjeng toean," he said: "Have you been running Amokh, Setrosmito?" "Sir," cried the latter, "I have killed a bandoelan who was acting disgracefully towards my child. Yes, I have done that. I have also wounded a policeman who was helping him in it. Who would have protected my child if I had not done so? But I have harmed no one else. The whole dessa will tell you so!" Verstork looked towards the crowd. All stood breathless around; not a word of protest was spoken. "You confess to having killed a bandoelan and wounded an officer?" asked Verstork, sternly. "Yes, kandjeng toean," said the poor Javanese, almost inaudibly. "Wedono," said Verstork, "have this man bound." "Pardon, kandjeng toean, pardon!" cried the wretched man, when he heard the order. "Pardon! I have only protected my daughter from disgusting ill-treatment." "You have resisted the authorities, nobody has a right to do that," replied the Controller in a firm and impressive voice. "But, Setrosmito," he continued, "the matter will be investigated by the proper tribunal, and if, as you say, your child has suffered ill-usage--no doubt that will be taken into consideration, and your punishment will be lessened accordingly." A dull murmur arose in the crowd. They knew by sad experience what kind of justice they might expect from the white man when there was opium in the question. A bitter smile was on every countenance, and many a curse was muttered against that unmerciful race which holds sway over Java and sucks its very life's blood. Now that the people began to see that they had to do--not with a wild Amokh runner who murdered indiscriminately but--with a father who had merely protected his child from outrage, the feelings of the crowd instantly changed and not a man or woman in the dessa but pitied the wretched criminal. But a single commanding look from the Controller and one wave of the Wedono's hand sufficed to repress every sign of displeasure. "Wedono," said Verstork, "you will have that man carefully guarded--you and the Loerah will be answerable for him; and you will further see that to-morrow morning early, he is taken under properly armed escort to Santjoemeh." "Pardon, kandjeng toean," again groaned the unhappy father, as the people of the dessa helped to tie his arms. "The 'Higher Court' must decide the matter, Setrosmito," said Verstork, "I may and I can do no more than my duty." CHAPTER XIV. A SEARCH FOR OPIUM. WHAT CAME OF IT. To return that night to Banjoe Pahit was clearly impossible. Verstork had to hold a preliminary inquiry into the terrible event which had so suddenly disturbed the dessa, and about this investigation, he was determined to set at once, and to conduct it in the thorough and conscientious manner in which he was wont to discharge all his duties. These were the facts which this inquiry brought to light. At about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, Singomengolo, the opium farmer's trusty spy, and a Chinese bandoelan had made their appearance in the dessa Kaligaweh. They had proceeded straight to the opium-den, where they had to obtain some necessary information from the men in charge of that establishment. When they had learned what they wanted to know, they went to the Loerah's house; but that functionary was not at home, having been called away, as we know, to make the necessary arrangements for the next day's hunting. So the two worthies had betaken themselves to one of the other members of the dessa government, who granted them the assistance of the local police. Accompanied by a couple of policemen, the Chinese bandoelan went to the dwelling of Setrosmito, the father of Baboe Dalima, and when he got there, he signified his intention of searching the premises. Said he to Setrosmito: "You never visit the store kept by Babah Than Kik Sioe, you never smoke any opium there, nor even purchase any from him. The opium-farmer has, therefore, come to the conclusion that you manage somehow to get hold of smuggled opium. Anyhow, my orders are to search your house, thoroughly." "I never go to the den to smoke," was the honest old peasant's straightforward reply, "nor do I smoke opium at home; you will find nothing of the kind under my roof. But do as you like!" Thereupon, the Chinaman and his two policemen were about to enter, when Setrosmito stopped them. "No, no," said he, very calmly, "wait a bit. Before you begin, I shall have you fellows searched." And, turning to some of his friends whom the appearance of the bandoelan had brought about the hut, he said: "Sidin and Sariman, just lend a hand to overhaul these fellows." The opium-hunters were too well used to such treatment to make any serious resistance, and they submitted to the scrutiny--a scrutiny which was conducted most minutely, but which did not result in producing the least trace of opium. When they had been examined thoroughly, Setrosmito allowed the men to enter his dwelling, and to proceed with their visitation of the premises. The hunt which ensued was merely a repetition of the scene which had, a short time ago, taken place in the wretched cabin of poor Pak Ardjan; but if no opium had been found upon the persons of the searchers, neither did the Chinese bandoelan, nor his men succeed in discovering the slightest trace of contraband goods in any corner of the house. Just as in Pak Ardjan's case, here again they turned over everything, and ransacked every hole and corner; but not the slightest vestige of opium was found in the place. At length the Chinaman despairing of success, and very angry at his failure, cried out in a rage: "Where are your children?" Setrosmito quietly answered, "The children are on the common minding the oxen." An evil smile played upon the yellow features of the bandoelan, when he heard this man actually was the possessor of a pair of oxen. In the once thriving dessa Kaligaweh, there were, alas! at present very few of the inhabitants who could boast of owning so much as that. He did not, however, speak a single word; but he left the hut taking his two policemen with him, and went to report to Singomengolo that all their trouble had been fruitless. When Singo had heard his subordinate's statement, he looked with a contemptuous and pitying smile upon him, as he scornfully said to the Chinaman: "Much use you are to Lim Ho and Lim Yang Bing! You a bandoelan! You will never find smuggled opium," he continued, in a jeering tone, "you are too clumsy." "No," was the man's indignant reply, "nor you either, where there is no opium to be found!" "Come, Keh," said Singo. "Will you bet me a rix-dollar that I don't manage to find some?" "Quite impossible," cried the Chinaman, "I have turned the house inside out. I have searched the bamboo laths of the walls and roof, and there is nothing--absolutely nothing anywhere." "Have you looked under the hearth?" asked Singomengolo. "Yes." "And in the ashes under the hearth?" "Yes," was the reply again. "And have you grubbed up the floor?" "Yes." "And have you turned over the baleh-baleh and the cushions?" "Yes, yes, yes!" cried the man, impatiently. "I am no child, I suppose." "No, you are no child," jeered Singo, "but you are one of the greatest fools in the world; as stupid as one of those oxen! Now, just you come along with me," he added, after having flung these amenities at the head of his pig-tailed countryman. "Just you come along with me and you will see that my eyes are better than yours. You could see nothing; but I shall manage to ferret out something before long. Those mangy dessa-dogs always have opium about them." The wretch seemed to forget that in that very dessa he had himself first seen the light; however--that is the way of the world! So the four men set out once again to Setrosmito's house; and once again, as before, did the Javanese attempt to insist upon searching the persons of his unwelcome visitors before allowing them to enter. But Singomengolo would have nothing of the kind. He refused point-blank to submit to any search. Said he, in his blustering way: "You lay your hands on me and I will thrash you like a mangy cur!" Setrosmito tried to protest; but it was in vain. "Aye, aye," said he, "if that be the case then I have but little doubt that they will find anything they want. I know all about those tricks. Kabajan," he continued, as he turned to one of the chief men of the dessa, who stood looking on among the crowd which was rapidly assembling. "Kabajan, I call upon you to witness what is about to happen here." But the latter, who had the greatest horror of coming into collision with the wretches of the opium monopoly, made no reply whatever to the old man's appeal, and quietly slipped away. Singomengolo, with a brutal and defiant laugh, entered the hut with his followers. It so happened that at the moment, Setrosmito's little children also came in. The two boys and their sister had just returned from the common, and opened their eyes wide at seeing so many people assembled round their father's house. The two boys were eight and nine years of age. Like most of the young Javanese children, they had pretty little faces, with the funniest expression in their twinkling and roguish dark-brown eyes; but their appearance was, to a European eye, wholly spoilt by the manner in which their heads had been treated. They were clean shaven except one single tuft of hair of about a hand's breadth, which the razor had spared and which one of the boys wore on the top of his head, and the other over his left ear. They had the well-formed and supple limbs which are characteristic of their race, and were exceedingly slender in the waist. These natural advantages were seen to the greatest advantage since, in accordance with the primitive customs of the island, they ran about completely naked, with nothing on at all except a silver ring round each ankle. The little girl, a child of seven, was remarkably pretty, her well-formed childish face peeping out charmingly under a profusion of jet-black glossy hair. Her arms were bare, and the only clothing she wore was a bright-coloured patchwork apron which was secured round the hips by a slender chain of silver, from which dangled a small ornamental plate of the same metal. When they ran into the hut they found Singomengolo very busy indeed turning over the contents of boxes and prying into pots and pans, while their father was most carefully watching every gesture he made, and was not allowing a single motion of his nimble hands to pass unnoticed. This close attention vexed the wretched spy beyond measure, who thus saw his wicked plan frustrated, because, while those keen eyes were upon his fingers, he could not even attempt to exercise his sleight of hand without being instantly detected. In the hope therefore of distracting the father's attention, Singo made a sign to the Chinaman, who, with his slanting eyes, sat looking at the children and leering most offensively at pretty little Kembang. The man understood the signal and at once seized one of the boys, and, under the pretence of searching for concealed opium, he felt all over their little bodies, under the armpits, in fact, anywhere wherever a little mandat-ball could by any possibility lie hidden. The boys kicked and fought under this disgusting treatment and did all they could to bite and scratch the dirty scoundrel; but not a single cry did they utter which might draw away their father's eyes from the manipulations of Singomengolo. But when the bandoelan laid hold of the girl and strove to tear off her apron, the poor child could not repress a loud cry of terror, she tore herself away from his rude grasp, and flying to her mother, tried to hide herself on her breast, while the poor woman clasped her child in her arms as if to protect it from further insult. It was, however, in vain; the Chinaman with his sickly yellow face came up to the mother and, with the help of his two assistants, wrenched the poor girl from the woman's arms, who was wholly unable to resist their violence. "Your turn next," cried the Chinaman to the mother, "that young cat has had plenty of time to pass the stuff to you. Keep your seat!" Then the disgusting scene through which the two boys had passed was re-enacted on this helpless child--a proceeding infinitely more loathsome, inasmuch as its victim was a little creature of the tender sex towards whom the wretch thought he might with impunity act as he pleased. "Alla tobat!" screamed the poor woman who was compelled to see her daughter thus outraged wantonly before her eyes. That bitter cry of distress had the desired effect. For a single instant it caused Setrosmito to turn his watchful eyes to his wife; but that single instant was sufficient. Quick as lightning Singomengolo took advantage of it, and slipped his closed hand under the little Pandan mat which was spread out over the baleh-baleh and which, during the search, had already three or four times been lifted and shaken without result. Then, in triumph, he produced from under it a little copper box, and, as he held it up with a theatrical gesture he exclaimed: "You see that; after all, there was smuggled opium in the house; I knew I should find it!" Setrosmito turned deadly pale at the sight; he well knew what the Dutch law-courts had in store for him, and the thought of the ruin which thus stared him in the face filled him with rage and fury. "There was no opium concealed here," he cried out; and in his despair not well knowing what he was doing, he put his hand out mechanically to the kris, an old heirloom which was stuck into the bamboo-wall above the baleh-baleh. "You dirty dog," he cried to Singomengolo, "it was you yourself that slipped that box under the mat!" The words had scarcely passed his lips before Singomengolo answered the frantic accusation by a blow with his clenched fist which struck Setrosmito right in the mouth. Maddened with pain and rage the unhappy man plucked the kris from its sheath; but at that moment, suddenly, little Kembang uttered a heartrending scream of pain and horror. That cry saved the life of the opium spy. The poor father looked round as if bewildered at the sound; but when he saw the disgusting leer upon the Chinaman's face and in what an outrageously indecent manner that wretch was treating his pretty little flower, the blood seemed to rush to his head and his rage was at once turned into another direction. A red mist--red as blood--clouded his eyes. "Help, help, pain, pain!" cried poor little Kembang. Utterly blinded and wholly beside himself with fury the father, kris in hand, flew towards the miscreant. "Amokh, Amokh!" shouted one of the policemen, as he saw the flaming kris in the frenzied father's hand. "Amokh, Amokh!" cried the crowd outside taking up the shout without knowing what was going on inside the hut. Women and children rushed away yelling and screaming in all directions. Soon on all sides resounded the fatal words: "Amokh, Amokh!" The men flew home to fetch their lances and krisses, not in the least knowing what really was the matter, but at the mere terror of the sound. "Amokh, Amokh!" repeated the watchmen as they rushed wildly to the guardhouse and began to make as much noise as they could upon the public gongs. The policeman who had been the first to cry Amokh, made a frantic effort to draw his sabre; but the blade was so firmly rusted into the sheath that no efforts he could make would draw the weapon. The other policeman who had no time to draw tried to lays hands upon the infuriated Javanese; but as he attempted to seize him, he received a slash across the face and breast which was no doubt but a deep flesh wound; but though not mortal, occasioned so much pain and so much bleeding that the wounded man fell back moaning and was glad enough to save his life in headlong flight. The sight was quite enough for his comrade, and he also took to his heels at full speed. Then Setrosmito found himself face to face with the ill-starred Chinaman, who had not let go his hold on the little girl and concerning whose outrageous behaviour there could be not the slightest doubt. "Let her go! let her go, I say!" yelled the father, mad with rage and foaming at the mouth. Whether the bandoelan was utterly bewildered in the presence of such imminent peril, or whether, in his excitement, he did not realise the full extent of the danger; suffice it to say that he did not obey that supreme command. His wan face now made more than usually hideous by passion, wore a vacant and unmeaning smile; still he did not release the girl; but only tried to get her in front of him, and to shield himself behind her. "Amokh, Amokh!" was still the cry all around. "Let go!" roared Setrosmito, again; and again the wretched Chinaman replied with a vacant laugh. "Amokh, Amokh!" resounded the gong with threatening roar. "Let go!--You won't!--Well then, die like a dog!--" shrieked the wretched father, goaded to madness. And--with lightning speed, before the miserable Chinaman had time to cower down behind the little girl whom he still held before him--Setrosmito drew the well-tempered blade across the fellow's throat. "Alas, I am dead!" yelled the Chinaman, his eyes wildly rolling in his head. They were the last words he uttered. With convulsive clutch he tried to close the gaping wound in his neck; but it was no use, the blood violently came spurting in fine jets through his fingers, a dreadful fit of coughing seized him, and the torrent of blood which rushed from his mouth covered poor little Kembang from head to foot. Tottering like a drunken man, and still grasping the girl, the wretch, for a few moments, tried to steady himself, but then reeled and fell heavily to the ground in the agony of death. "Amokh, Amokh!" was still the cry all round the hut. "Amokh, Amokh!" still harshly roared the gongs. For three or four seconds Setrosmito, after his dreadful deed, stood gazing about him like a man utterly dazed or in a dream. He at length brought his left hand to his eyes and then slowly he seemed to recover his reason; then he began to realize his position. At his feet there lay the Chinese bandoelan still convulsively twitching in the throes of death; but soon all was over. All this had passed in an incredibly short space of time, almost with the swiftness of thought; but the room in which the father stood over the victim of his momentary frenzy was already quite deserted; for, with his men, Singomengolo had also taken to his heels. Even the two little boys, who at first had stared at the spectacle hardly knowing what was taking place, had taken to flight in alarm at their father's threatening kris, and the wife had snatched up her little daughter and she also had rushed from the house. "Amokh, Amokh!" that shout outside sounded in the ears of the unhappy man as his death-knell. He knew but too well of what terrible significance was the fatal word. He knew well that wherever that word is heard, the entire population rushes at once to arms, and that, without stopping to make any inquiry, without even knowing who the man-slayer is, it cuts him down without the smallest mercy, though perhaps he may in reality be guilty of nothing worse than merely defending his own life or protecting the honour of wife or children. Already a few armed men came charging into the hut with their lance-points levelled at his breast. "Stand back!" shouted Setrosmito whose rage had not yet had time to cool down. "Stand back! whoever comes nearer I will serve as I have served that wretch!" The man was evidently in deadly earnest and the kris was waved in so threatening a manner at the words that his assailants turned and fled in alarm and formed up in a close ring around the hut. In that circle there was a great deal of talking, of consulting, of screaming and gesticulating; but there seemed not to be a single man who felt the smallest desire of again crossing the threshold. It was at this juncture that Controller Verstork came galloping up with the gentlemen who accompanied him and, as we have heard, put an end to the murderous scene by taking the ill-fated man prisoner. In the course of the inquiry which followed Singomengolo produced the opium which he declared he had found in Setrosmito's house and which, in the interest of the opium-farmer, he had confiscated. In the small copper-box there was but a very small quantity of the poppy-juice which, when weighed at the opium store, was found to be but fifty matas, that is about eighteen milligrams. It was a brownish sticky mass enclosed in a tiny box which could be easily concealed in the closed palm of a man's hand. The Controller took possession of the box and in the presence of the opium-hunter he sealed it up according to the law. "Did anyone witness the finding of this box under the mat on the baleh-baleh?" asked Verstork. "Oh yes, certainly," was the reply, "the Chinese bandoelan saw me find it." "The man who is dead? Anyone else?" continued the Controller. "Yes, the two policemen," said Singo. "Indeed!" remarked Verstork. "These were the men, I think, who, a few moments before could discover nothing?" "No matter," said the opium spy with great effrontery. "I, kandjeng toean," he continued, "am a sworn bandoelan--I found it there and my word suffices. The testimony of the policemen is altogether superfluous." The look of utter contempt and loathing which Verstork cast upon him as he spoke seemed to have but little effect upon the shameless spy; for he merely made the usual obsequious salute and as he turned to go, he muttered: "I shall go and make my report to Babah Lim Yang Bing and to the Inspector of Police." Then he mounted his horse and rode away seemingly along the high-road to Santjoemeh. Seemingly; for presently it will appear whither he actually did go and what business he had on hand. As soon as he was out of sight of the dessa he took a pathway to the right which ran through the rice-fields and along that bridle-path he rode across the hilly country and thus took a more direct way to the capital than that which the highway offered. His horse seemed to know the country well and made good progress, so that it was hardly midnight when he reached a lonely little cabin. There he dismounted, knocked up its inmate and sent the man on with a message to Santjoemeh. When Verstork reached the house of the Loerah who with the Wedono had actively assisted him in his troublesome inquiry, it was about nine o'clock in the evening. He found his friends assembled there and impatiently awaiting his arrival. "I say," muttered August van Beneden, "how long you have kept us!" The young barrister was not in the best of tempers just then for he had been very anxiously looking forward to the promised expedition and now he began to fear that it might not come off at all. Moreover he had, in the Loerah's house, been frightfully bored as he waited for his friend's return. "I say, how long you have kept us!" "It was no fault of mine," replied Verstork. "I have had my hands pretty full to-night." "Besides," he continued, "it makes no great difference; for the more I can get through to-night the less I shall have to do in the morning." "In the morning?" said another of the company in no agreeable surprise. "Yes, of course," said Verstork. "Supposing for a moment that in order to keep you company, I had not held that inquiry this evening; but had ridden back with you to Banjoe Pahit as we proposed to do, why--then I must have gone through it all to-morrow morning and then we must have said good-bye to our hunting party." "To-morrow morning!" echoed Edward van Rheijn. "Would not Monday morning have done just as well?" The Controller gave the young man a look which evidently was full of displeasure. He had indeed a sharp answer on the tip of his tongue; but he refrained from uttering it, and very quietly replied: "No, no, Monday would have been too late in a matter of this kind. Remember, we have to do with a case of man-slaughter which is moreover complicated by an opium scandal, and as matters stand even now we shall find this a sufficiently perplexing business." "And are you quite ready now?" asked van Rheijn. "Yes," replied the other. "So that to-morrow morning there will be nothing to detain you?" "All right, all right!" said Verstork somewhat impatiently. "And you will be able to take the lead in our expedition, I hope." "Yes, yes, you need not trouble about that, I have only a couple of letters to write." "A couple of letters!" cried van Rheijn but half reassured. "A short report," said the Controller, "to the Resident, and a request to the native prosecutor and to the doctor to come and view the body and to hold the inquest." "Is not that right, van Nerekool?" continued he, turning to his friend. "That is the proper course to take, is it not?" "What did you say?" said the young lawyer starting up as from a dream, and passing his hand over his forehead;--lost in anxious thought he had hardly heard his friend's question. The question was repeated and received an affirmative answer. "We have a good long ride before us to get back to Banjoe Pahit," remarked Theodoor Grenits, "and to-morrow morning it will be light very early, eh?" "Certainly it will," replied Verstork; "but," continued he as he looked at his watch, "we must not think of getting back to Banjoe Pahit to-night. It is now quite nine o'clock, and, however brightly the moon may be shining we cannot possibly go faster than at a walk, so that we cannot expect to reach the Controller's quarters before midnight. No, I shall write my official letters here at the tjarik's, they can then be at once sent off by the Loerah. The Wedono will ride back to Banjoe Pahit to get everything ready for to-morrow's work. He has the command of all the beaters there, that has been all arranged and settled and we need not trouble about that, even though we change our quarters for the night." "That is all very well," said August van Beneden, "but where shall we find these quarters?" "Well," rejoined Verstork, "we must do the best we can, 'à la guerre comme à la guerre.' There is a small passangrahan here in the dessa which is furnished with a single baleh baleh and we must ask the Loerah to fit it up for us somehow or other." "To fit it up?" cried Grenits in surprise; "have you an outfitting store here in this out-of-the-way place?" "No, no, my worthy disciple of Mercury," replied Verstork with a laugh, "that kind of establishment would do but a very poor business here. If we can lay our hands upon a few pillows and a couple of mattresses we must think ourselves very lucky." "A couple of mattresses for the seven of us," grumbled van Beneden who was by no means unmindful of his bodily comforts, "that is but a poor allowance I fear." "For my part," said Verstork, "I am quite ready to give up my share. I prefer the baleh baleh. It will not be the first time I have slept on one; and slept very soundly too I can tell you. The others must draw lots. But--" "But what?" asked van Rheijn. "Someone just now spoke of seven," replied Verstork. "It seems to me we are but six--Who is missing? The deuce! where is Mokesuep?" "Yes," cried a couple of others, "where has Mokesuep got to?" "He was off like a shot as soon as he heard the cry of Amokh," said van Rheijn laughing. "I saw him when we turned for Kaligaweh riding back full speed to Banjoe Pahit." "Now, I call that prudence with a vengeance," remarked Grenits. "Prudence! Is that the right word do you think?" asked one of the others. "I don't care," said van Rheijn, "I am heartily glad we have got rid of the fellow, for the time, at all events. I say, Verstork, how in the world did you manage to get hold of such a sneak as that?" "Oh," replied Verstork, "I often find the fellow useful. He is thoroughly up, you see, in all excise quibbles; and I think it best to keep in with him. You can all understand that--can you not?" "Well," said van Rheijn, "I wish he would be off altogether and go right on to Santjoemeh." "No," said Verstork, "I don't think he will do that." "Wedono, will you see to it that Mr. Mokesuep is called early to-morrow morning?" "Yes, kandjeng toean," replied the native. "And now, gentlemen," said Verstork, "I must leave you for half an hour or so to the care of the Loerah, he will make you as comfortable as he can--won't you, Loerah?" "Yes, kandjeng toean," was the invariable reply. A few minutes later the sportsmen had taken possession of the passangrahan, while the Controller sat in the small verandah of the tjarik's house busily writing his letters. CHAPTER XV. UNDER THE WARIENGIEN TREE. IN THE OPIUM-DEN. The passangrahan did not turn out so very bad after all. The Loerah had managed to get together six mattresses and, somewhere or other, he had found six pillows also. Whether these things were clean or not, the miserable flicker of the little oil-lamp which hung in the middle of the apartment, did not reveal. The Loerah, however, had surpassed himself--he had actually provided six chairs. Very crazy and very tumble-down certainly they were; but they were not wholly unfit for use, and in a dessa like Kaligaweh might be looked upon as "objets de luxe." But the young people did not feel the slightest inclination to turn in, they were as yet too much excited by the events they had just witnessed to think of going to sleep. So they brought out the chairs upon the aloon aloon in front of the passangrahan, and having seated themselves in a circle they made themselves as comfortable as circumstances would allow and lit their manillas. There was, of course, no question of getting anything to drink in the shape of wine or beer, still less possibility was there of obtaining a glass of grog. Unless there are Europeans settled in a dessa, such liquors are nowhere to be found. But the Loerah had supplied for the refreshment of his guests an ample quantity of cocoa-nut milk, and that drink was pronounced most excellent. Indeed it is a most delicious and very refreshing beverage when it is obtained from a young nut before the flesh has had time to set and harden inside the rind. Very soon the little circle of friends was comfortably seated under a gigantic Wariengien tree, the tall branches of which spreading out far and wide on all sides formed a canopy which covered nearly the entire space of the aloon aloon, and offered a most grateful shade by day, and a shelter also against the heavy dews of night. From the majority of the horizontal branches there grew down a number of shoots, some as thick as a man's finger, others no thicker than a pipestem, others again as fine as whip-cord. These shoots, as soon as they reached the soil, struck root and then rapidly increasing in girth, formed, as it were, a number of pillars which helped the old giant to bear his dense mass of wood and of foliage, and greatly enhanced the beauty of the venerable tree. The firmament above was of the deepest blue, and wonderfully pure and clear. In that vault of Heaven innumerable stars glittered and twinkled in spite of the moon which, now about her full, was shedding over the peaceful scene her soft and placid radiance. But nature, though so calm and placid, was by no means silent. The air was full of sounds, the strange mysterious music of a tropical night. A gentle breeze was rustling in the branches, and amidst the countless leaves of the colossal wild fig-tree was thus forming, so to speak, the groundwork of a concert produced by a host of invisible artists. In spite of the late nightly hour, a wood-pigeon would now and then come flying home into the crown of the Wariengien tree, and be welcomed on its return by the soft cooing of its mate. Sometimes a solitary cock would start up and, beguiled by the bright moonbeams, would utter his shrill musical crow, fondly imagining, no doubt, that he was heralding the dawn of day. Every moment was heard the sharp, piercing squeak of the swarm of bats, which, in their hunt for insects under the canopy of leaves, glided about in a giddy maze of intersecting and intertwining circles, ovals, spirals and ellipses. Sometimes again from afar came the dismal cry of the flying dogs, as on soft inaudible wing they swooped down upon some fruit-tree in the dessa and quarrelled for the possession of some choice manga. But all these sounds, some musical, others harsh, might be looked upon as the solo-parts in the nameless humming concert which prevailed on all sides and of which the performers were invisible to human eye. In that nightly hour, wherever the ear might turn it heard a constant quivering and throbbing sound, sometimes rising to such a pitch that it unpleasantly affected the ear, then again dying away like the scarcely perceptible murmur of the breeze in a cornfield, and then suddenly ceasing for a moment or two as if to allow the rustling of the leaves to be heard for an instant; but only to join in chorus again with renewed vigour as if wishing to drown all other sounds. This was the chirping of millions upon millions of the greenish orange kind of grasshopper, which perched on every blade of grass on the aloon aloon, and hanging from every leaf of the immense tree, caused that sharp thrilling mass of sound which at times made the air literally quiver with its intensely sharp notes. Did the young men there assembled pay any heed to this mysterious melody? Did they lend an ear to those notes which, in the tropics, make the midnight hour more tuneful than the dull and heavy noon, when the sun, in his full power, makes all nature thirsty and silent? Had they an eye for that delicious night, with its soft breeze, its glittering firmament, its quiet but glorious moonlight, its quaint and pleasing shadows? It is doubtful whether they heard or saw anything of all these. Indeed, they were wholly engrossed in conversation, and that conversation most naturally ran upon the events of the day. The dreadful scene of social misery at which they had been present was far too powerful to be dismissed from their thoughts. That murder scene was talked over and turned about, and looked at from every point of view; but, the few hurried words with which Verstork, before he went off to write his letters, had explained the matter to his friends, had filled them, one and all, with the deepest pity for poor Setrosmito, and for his family, in their bitter affliction. Said Grashuis: "What untold misery does that detestable opium-policy bring upon this, in other respects, so richly blessed island? Is it not enough to make one hide one's head with shame at the thought that a considerable portion of the Dutch revenue is derived from so foul a source?" "Tut, tut," interrupted van Beneden, "that foul source, as you call it--I suppose you mean the opium-revenue--is in no way different from any other tax levied on an article of luxury." "Granted," replied Grashuis, "but, who made the inhabitants of the Indian Archipelago acquainted with that luxury?" "That's more than I can tell you," said the other. "I daresay it is with opium very much as it is with drink; whence did we get the products of distillation? Who first discovered them? I fancy it would be no easy matter to find a satisfactory answer to those questions. One thing, however, is quite certain, that the Dutch nation is not responsible for the discovery of opium." "That's true enough," replied Grashuis, "but I hardly think that a mere negative certificate of that kind will be accepted as a proof of good conduct." "No, certainly not," interrupted Grenits, "for our conscience, though it is clear of the charge of having discovered the drug, by no means acquits us of the more serious charge of having introduced and imported it, and--" "Come, that's all nonsense," cried van Rheijn, "that is a mere assertion of yours, which will not stand the test of inquiry. If you will look into Band's well-known 'Proeve,' there you will find that the Orientals, such as the Turks, the Persians, the Arabians, and the Hindoos, have been for many, for very many centuries, addicted to the use of opium. It is, therefore, most probable that when the Dutch first came to India, they found the habit of opium-smoking already established." "You are quite wrong, my worthy friend," cried Grenits, interrupting him. "You are quite wrong, for this same Band, whose authority on the subject I am as ready to admit as you are, expressly declares that he has not been able to discover when opium began to be used in Dutch India. Now, this confession is, in my opinion, most significant, coming from so distinguished a statesman as Band. For, surely, if he had been able to prove in his treatise on opium, that its use was common when we first arrived there, he would, for the sake of our national honour, not have concealed so important a fact, but, on the contrary, have made the most of it. But I go further than this. Later on in his book, Band goes on to say that when in the sixteenth century Europeans first began to show themselves in Indian waters, the use of opium was known only in the Moluccas, and that, as regards the rest of the Archipelago, its abuse existed only among a very few foreigners, who had settled down in the different sea-ports." "Well," asked van Rheijn, "but must we not look upon that as the expression of a mere private opinion? What do you say?" he continued, turning to van Nerekool. "Band, you see, was an opponent of the use of opium." Van Nerekool was, however, wholly engrossed in his own thoughts, and made no reply to the question. He seemed, indeed, not to have heard it at all. Grenits, however, at once broke in and said: "What? Band an opponent of opium? Where in the world did you get that from? Certainly not out of his book, which throughout is written in a spirit of the strictest impartiality. He cannot help mentioning the deleterious effect of the poppy-juice; but he does so with the utmost caution, and I defy anyone to discover in his treatise the merest hint at a scheme, or even at a proposal for counteracting its abuse. Just now you called Band's opinion a personal one. Well, so far as the introduction of opium is concerned, no doubt that opinion is personal; but, it is an opinion which has been confirmed by the testimony of a host of distinguished travellers of his day. Read, for instance, the voyages of such men as van Sinschoten, Cornelis Houtman, Wijbrandt, van Warwijck, and so many others, all countrymen of ours, and illustrious men of our heroic age, and you will find that Band does not, by any means, stand alone in his opinion." "I say," cried van Rheijn, not too civilly, "where the devil does a merchant like you get all that information from?" The discussion was, in fact, arousing some of that jealous feeling which everywhere exists between the official and the mercantile classes; but which is stronger, perhaps, in Dutch India than elsewhere. Grenits replied very quietly, "It is precisely in my capacity of merchant that I have found it necessary to study, not only all the products of the Archipelago, but to gain all possible information also about the imported articles of commerce which are likely to produce the greatest profits." "That is exactly what opium does," remarked van Rheijn, "and, for that reason, I presume that the trade would like to get it into its own hands." "What the trade may like or may not like," replied Grenits very coolly, "I neither know nor care. As far as I myself am concerned, I would not, if I could, derive any profits from so foul a source; and I feel quite certain that many, very many men in my position are of the same opinion. As a proof of the truth of my words, I point to the fact that, as far as I know, no European firm has ever made a bid for the opium monopoly." "Indeed," said van Rheijn, sarcastically, "and how then about the Netherland's Handelmaatshappij?" "The Handelmaatshappij" replied Grenits, "is a very recent offshoot of the East India Company of unblessed memory, and is entirely identified with the government. It is, as a matter of fact, nothing more than the shopman in the government's grocery store. The opium monopoly is carried on by the State, and it is, therefore, no wonder that the 'Companie ketjil' (Javanese name for the Handelmaatshappij) did undertake the supplying of opium. But this European Company did not long occupy the honourable position of opium-farmer. According to Band, the government did not make sufficiently large profits out of the monopoly, and it was therefore decided to put it into Chinese hands. These Chinamen knew how to carry on the abominable traffic, and have brought it to the highest degree of development. Looking at the question from another point of view, and considering the names of the men who at that time were members and directors of the Handelmaatshappij, I cannot help thinking that men so illustrious were not at all sorry to see so dirty a source of profit closed to them." "What are you talking about!" exclaimed van Rheijn, "with your 'dirty source of profit?' Does not the Company trade in gin? Does not your own firm deal in alcohol? And you, when you get to be head of a firm, will you give up all trade in spirits, and all the profits it brings in?" "Oh," cried Grenits, "now I see! you are one of those many men who place abuse of opium on the same line with abuse of strong drink. But, mark what I say, all those who, whether here or in Holland, argue thus, are doing infinitely more mischief than they are aware of. Some few of them, no doubt, know the real merits of the case, and are perfectly competent, therefore, to measure the mischief they are doing. All such men are actuated by personal motives; they have a certain object in view, it may be of advantage or of ambition. But by far the greater number speak thus merely to please, merely to gain the approbation of their hearers. The good people in Holland like to listen to such arguments. They are pleased when they hear men who have been in India, and therefore, of course, know all about it, say, with an air of easy superiority: 'Oh, that opium is not so very great an evil after all. All over the world, man sometimes needs a little stimulant. Just look at our good Mr. Pastor, he surely has the welfare of his flock at heart, yet he does not grudge a man a modest glass or two of gin. Let us follow that spiritual example, and let us not grudge the poor Javanese his opium-pipe. Opium and gin, why they come to very much the same thing in the end!' Yes, to such arguments men open their ears willingly enough; for, though the opium monopoly may be a dirty source of revenue, yet it does bring in lots of money; and men are only too pleased to hear, that after all they have been needlessly disquieting themselves, and that there is really no need of putting an end to so considerable a source of gain." "Well, my good friend Grenits, you must pardon me for saying so; but I also am one of those who not only silently approve of the argument, but who are prepared openly and loudly to maintain that gin and opium, inasmuch as they are both intoxicants, stand on precisely the same level. I maintain that the abuse of either is injurious, and that the one does not much more harm than the other." It was August van Beneden who thus came to the rescue of van Rheijn. The latter looked round triumphantly, as he exclaimed: "Hear, hear! You see, gentlemen, I am not the only one who holds those views. Bravo, August!" "Of course," said Grenits, quickly, "you are quite right in saying that spirituous liquors are injurious for--" "I say, Grenits," cried Grashuis, with a laugh, "mind the members of your club at the Hague don't hear that." "For," continued Grenits, without paying any heed to the interruption, "for the abuse of spirits also arises from a craving after pleasure and oblivion and proves a want of will-power to resist that craving, even when its satisfaction is purchased at the price of self-respect, domestic happiness and health. To deny that, would be to prove myself ignorant of the labours of Father Matthew, and so many other friends of total abstinence. But, you will pardon me if I adhere to the opinion I have already expressed, that in thus placing the abuse of opium on the same level with the abuse of alcohol shows an ignorance of established facts and an ignorance also of the literature of our colonies with regard to opium. For, remember, my friends, our own countrymen, such men as van Linschoten, Valentijn, Band, van Dedem and I do not know how many more stigmatise opium as an aphrodisiac--as a powerful means of exciting unclean passions. Van Linschoten in the account of his travels, plainly speaks of certain effects of the abuse of opium which, though we are men together here, I could not venture to repeat; and foreign travellers most fully confirm his testimony. The learned Chinaman Li Schi Ischin in his Chinese Pharmacopoeia, which was written as early as 1596, tells us that the common people in China, made use of opium chiefly as an aphrodisiac. The German traveller Miklucho-Maclay in 1873, after he had made personal experiments at Hong Kong in opium smoking, has noted down certain details with which I cannot bring myself to pollute your ears. Now all this ought, I think, to give us much food for reflection. And when we find men like Rochussen, Loudon, Hasselman, van Bosse, and many others, who, the one as Governor General, and the other as Colonial Secretary, some of them in both capacities, have stood up in their place in parliament, and have openly spoken of opium as an evil, as a most terrible evil, indeed as a poison and a pest, why then, I think, it will not be very difficult to come to the conclusion, that the effects and the consequences of the abuse of opium are of a different nature altogether, and are infinitely more fatal than those which result from the abuse of alcohol." "Would you not like," said van Beneden, "just merely for the sake of experiment, to try opium smoking? I, for myself, very much wish to know what its effects really are." "So would I," said van Rheijn, "and we could make the experiment easily enough." "How so?" asked Grashuis. "For us Europeans, opium is not easy to get, and surely we could not go to the opium den and smoke there, and make ourselves a laughing-stock of the people." "No, we could hardly do that," said van Rheijn; "but among my acquaintances, I count one Lim Ho the son of the great opium-farmer. I know, if I ask him, he will procure me a few madat balls." "Contraband, I suppose," said Grenits, with a laugh. "You know those opium farmers are the greatest smugglers!" "What does that matter?" said van Rheijn. "Opium is opium I suppose; I shall, no doubt, be able to get a pipe, and as soon as I have got the things, I will let you know, and then we shall meet at my house. We shall draw lots, and the one upon whom the lot falls, shall submit himself to the experiment, while the others look on, and make notes. Is that a bargain?" "Aye, aye!" they all cried, all except van Nerekool, who was still abstracted, and deeply plunged in his own thoughts. "Meanwhile," continued van Rheijn, "I feel bound in fairness to confess that our friend Grenits has defended his position in a most masterly way. Indeed I must say that I had not expected to find so much knowledge in matters concerning the opium monopoly, in a commercial man." Grenits merely smiled, it was a bitter smile; but he was too much accustomed to such remarks from members of the official corps to take offence at them. "But," continued van Rheijn, "with all his arguments, he will never persuade me that opium is a cause of greater misery, and that opium is a greater curse to a country than strong drink." While this discussion had been going on, Verstork had written his reports and had sent them off to the authorities at Santjoemeh, and he had got back to the passangrahan in time to hear Grenits speak of the evils of opium smoking. He also heard his friend van Rheijn make his last assertion. He thereupon at once put in his word. "Well, gentlemen," said he, "we have just now the fairest possible opportunity of satisfying ourselves as to the truth of Mr. Grenits' argument. The opportunity is, in fact, too good to be neglected. You are here in one of the most wretched of all dessas which are the victims of the opium-monopoly. It is not very long ago that this same Kaligaweh was remarkable as one of the cleanest, neatest, and most prosperous of all our Javanese villages. Now, look round about you. Everything is neglected, and is falling into decay. The huts are, almost all, tumbling to ruin--the roads, which lead to the dessa, and which run through it, are mere pools of mud, and of the well-trimmed and beautiful hedges, which once separated these roads from the fields, not a vestige now remains. It is hardly ten o'clock as yet, and the opium-den is not yet closed. The inhabitants, moreover, are in a state of excitement owing to that murder, and are also disturbed by the presence of so many European gentlemen. They are, therefore, wide awake. In the opium-den you will be able to feast your eyes, and satisfy your curiosity." At the proposal all the young men had jumped to their feet--all but van Nerekool who, with his head still resting on his hand, seemed unconscious of what was going on around him. "Come, Charles," said Verstork, laying his hand on his friend's shoulder, "come, Charles, you will come along with us, won't you?" The young lawyer started as if awakened out of a dream. "Where are you going to?" asked he, with so genuine an air of surprise, as made it evident that he had not heard one word of what was going on around him. Said Verstork, "We are off to the opium-den." "To the opium-den!" cried van Nerekool, in a tone of alarm, "to the opium-den, surely you are not going--" "To smoke," said Verstork. "No, no, my friend, you need not be alarmed, we are only going to have a look. But," continued he, "gentlemen, you must make up your minds to see some very unpleasant sights, for, I think, to-night the den happens to be very full. "But, wait a bit, if you intend really to gain some insight into these opium matters, we must--" And, turning to one of the policemen who was always in attendance, he said: "Sariman, run and call the two Chinamen of the opium-store--tell them I want to speak to them, at once." "Very well, kandjeng toean." "One moment, gentlemen! Otherwise you would miss the most interesting part of the show." They had but a very short time to wait, for the two Chinamen came running up as soon as they received the message: "Come, quick, quick, the noble noble lord calls you!" When the Chinamen reached the group, Verstork said to his friends: "Now, then, gentlemen, let us go." "But," said one of the Chinamen, in a somewhat insolent tone of voice, when he saw that his presence was wholly ignored, "But you sent for us, sir." "Hold your tongue, babah," said Verstork, briefly; "we are going to pay a visit to your opium-den. You come along with us." "To the opium-den!" cried the babah, "then I will go, and--" "You stay here with me; both of you," said the Controller in a tone of authority which they dared not disobey. The two Celestials interchanged looks; but they did not utter one word, and silently followed the gentlemen. The opium-den at Kaligaweh lay behind the chapel at the eastern extremity of the aloon aloon. The visitors, therefore, had but a couple of hundred yards to walk before they reached that noble establishment licensed by the Dutch rulers of the soil. No, certainly, it was not a proud building, raising its head majestically, in the glorious consciousness of being one of the many suckers which replenish the Dutch exchequer. Not at all. Its outward appearance would not lead anyone to suspect that it was one of the conduits of the great opium monopoly--that fearful force--that section pump, which pours millions upon millions into the treasury. No, a thousand times, no! It was a squalid, filthy little bamboo building, which looked like an old tumble-down barn or shed. The walls were partially rotten by long neglect, and gave out the peculiar musty smell of decaying bamboo. The roof, bulging in here and there, threatened to fall in upon the heads of the visitors within. The entire structure was a picture of decay and desolation, and the inside of the den completely corresponded with its pitiful exterior. The space within those mouldy walls and that half-rotten roof was extremely low, and the damp atmosphere was not only stuffy and close, but was permeated with the offensive sickly sweetish smell which is the invariable and unmistakable characteristic of burning opium. The floor of the den was the bare ground and the soil had not even been levelled and beaten down as is the case in almost all Javanese cabins; but was most uneven, great black lumps sticking up all over it which the bare feet of the Javanese and the hard soles of the Chinamen had polished till they looked shining as marble. Here and there, the smoky gleam of a dirty petroleum lamp revealed a wet patch or a little pool of greenish brown water of most suspicious appearance which affected most unpleasantly the organs both of sight and smell. As the gentlemen were about to enter the low door of the den, one of the Chinamen tried to utter a note of warning; but Verstork, who was keeping an eye on him, would not let him utter a sound and in a threatening tone of voice whispered to him: "Be quiet, babah." When the visitors had entered they found themselves in a small square apartment at the end of which was a partition with two doors and a small opening. "That door," said the Controller, who acted as guide, pointing to one of them, "opens into a little room in which one of the storekeepers generally sits, and through that little square opening hands to the customers bits of red paper covered with Chinese characters. The buyers of opium have to pay ready money for one of these tickets which represents a greater or smaller quantity of tjandoe according to the price paid. With that bit of paper the purchaser then vanishes through that other door." "What a beastly hole, to be sure!" remarked Grenits. "Oh!" replied Verstork, "this is only the anteroom. Wait until you get inside and then you will see something much better than this." Thus speaking he pushed open the second bamboo door which did not turn on hinges but was fastened to the door-post with loops and ran squeaking and scraping along a bit of smooth wood. This door gave access to a narrow passage which would have been in total darkness but for the hazy light of a few wretched oil-wicks which could only just be seen glimmering, through the chinks of the bamboo partition on either side. In this passage the atmosphere was still more stuffy and the nasty smell of the madat still more nauseous. The floor of the passage was so uneven, so slippery and so indescribably filthy, that it required the greatest care to keep on one's legs at all, and to prevent oneself from slipping down full length into the soapy mud. This passage ran down the centre of the barn and on either side of it were rows of pens twelve in number, the entire barn being thus divided into twenty-four partitions. The partition walls did not exceed four or five feet in height, so that from one pen one could easily look into another. These compartments had each a door which opened upon the passage in which the European visitors were standing. "May we open one of these doors?" asked van Beneden, as he stretched out his hand to one of them. "You may not, sir!" cried one of the Chinamen who, having noticed the gesture, understood the meaning of the question. "Hold you tongue, will you!" said Verstork, in a loud tone of voice. "You be off, out of the place altogether." And after the Chinaman had disappeared, he turned to his friends, and said: "I do not think you will care to go into those filthy holes. We can see well enough what is going on inside through the chinks in the partitions and doors, indeed, I believe, we shall thus see more than if we were to enter." "Look," continued he, "there you have a smoker in the first stage of intoxication." Yes! there, on the baleh baleh, lay a Javanese. There he lay on the only article of furniture which the den could boast of, stretched out full length, and half reclining on his side. He had thrown off his head-cloth, and his Long black hair floated over the disgustingly filthy pillow on the bench. His eyes, which betrayed his ecstatic condition, were half closed, and every now and then, he brought with his right hand the bowl of his opium pipe to the tiny flame which was flickering on a bit of wick dipping in a little saucer of oil. As he did so his head, partly supported on his left hand, would be slightly bent forward, as he took the thick bamboo stem of the pipe between his lips. Then, very slowly, he inhaled the smoke of the kindling opium. After a few puffs, he put down the pipe and turned over on his back, his head thrown back upon the pillow. The smoker now closed his eyes entirely, and strained with might and main to swallow the smoke he had inhaled. As soon as he had succeeded in doing this, he lay quite still while a look of satisfaction and enjoyment passed over his countenance. That look of satisfaction, however, offered the strangest contrast with the whole exterior appearance of the man, even with the features on which it appeared. Before lying down on the baleh baleh, he had flung aside his vest, and now lay covered only by his shirt which was the filthiest and most loathsome rag imaginable. The man was as lean as a skeleton, and would have been admirably fitted to take his place at the Danse Macabre. The faint light of the little palita showed every rib in his body, and the dark shadows which they cast, showed how deep were the cavities between that trellis work of bone. His arms were like sticks encased in brown leather-like skin. His legs were not visible, being covered by the sarong; but the appearance of the feet, which protruded from under the garment, proved that like the arms the legs also were nothing but skin and bone. When the man had, for awhile, held the smoke which he had swallowed, he blew it out again very slowly through his nostrils, a proceeding which it took some time to accomplish--then he turned over on his side and appeared to fall into a deep sleep. At that sight a female form, which had been crouching in one corner of the compartment, and had thus remained unnoticed, rose up and made for the door. The poor creature had been present there all the time--In her haste to leave the wretched little apartment, she nearly ran up against the European gentlemen. "Oh, heavens! the devil!" she cried; but, in the darkness, she could not recognise anyone, and so she hurried into a neighbouring recess. In that recess, the spectacle was more horrifying still. There, stretched out on the baleh baleh, lay an old Javanese. He was as angular, as emaciated, and as much wasted away, as the other man; but he was in another stage of intoxication. He had smoked more than one madat ball, hence he was in a different state of ecstasy. His hollow, sunken eyes glittered with unwonted fire; his breast heaved, and his face wore a bestial grin, the lower jaw protruding far beyond the upper stamping the features with the mark of the brutal passions which were raging within. The upper part of his body also was bare, but the violence of the passions which possessed him caused his entire frame to heave and quiver, and had made him cast aside even his sarong, so that now he lay there in the state in which the patriarch Noah was discovered by his sons. No sooner had the creaking door given admittance to the woman than he called out sharply to her: "Where have you been all this time? Come, make haste, get me another pipe." The wretched creature obeyed without a murmur. She advanced to the baleh baleh, took some tandjoe out of a small box, warmed it at the flame of the palita, and then mixed it with a little very finely cut tobacco. Then she rolled it in her fingers into a little ball about the size of a large pea, put this into the bowl of the opium pipe, and handed it to the wretched smoker. During these operations, and when she leaned forward to hand him the pipe, the miserable smoker, no longer master of his passions, and wholly unable to restrain himself, had acted in a manner so outrageously indecent, that Grashuis cried out: "Oh, this is too revolting! Come, let us be off, I cannot stand it any longer." Just at that moment a cry was heard a little further down the half-dark passage. "Good God, this is most infamous! Is it possible--Let us get out--Let us get out, friends--fire from Heaven will fall upon us and consume us!" It was van Beneden who had walked a few steps further down the passage, and had been peering into one of the recesses down there. Now he wildly rushed out of the place, dragging his friends almost by main force along with him. "What in the world is the matter with you?" asked Grenits. "Oh, I can't tell you what I have seen," cried August van Beneden, hardly able to speak plainly in his excitement. "Come along." "Now no false modesty," said Grashuis; "we have come here on purpose to gain what information we can about the horrors of opium, and so each one of us must tell his experience. What was it you saw, Theodoor?" "Don't ask me," cried Theodoor Grenits. "It is really too abominable; such things must not be uttered--And the victim--was a little Javanese girl--she struggled frightfully." "Aye," said van Rheijn, "I thought I heard screaming." "And can we do nothing? Come, Verstork, you as Controller--" But Verstork restrained his companions who were preparing once again to rush into the den. "I shall take good care," said he, "not to meddle in any opium matters. They, at Batavia, would very soon find me wholly unfit to hold any government appointment and, however revolting a deed may be, I should find no support in van Gulpendam my superior officer at Santjoemeh. My whole career would be ruined--No, my friends, I must let things take their course." "But," cried Grenits, "I am not bound by any such considerations--I will--" "You will keep quiet I hope," said Verstork to his friend who was trying to make his way once again into the opium den. "Remember that I am in your company, and that even if you went in there quite alone you would still compromise me by your rash and foolish action. I beg you therefore--Here! you see the child is coming out." As Verstork spoke a little Javanese girl hardly ten years of age came rushing out of the loathsome den, she sobbed and moaned as she ran past the European gentlemen. "Oh this is fearful--this is fearful," cried Grenits, "and then to have to stand still while such horrors are going on! I should like to--But--" continued he as he turned to van Beneden, "will you still maintain that opium is in its effects to be compared to drink." August van Beneden did not reply; but the deepest indignation was visible in his countenance. "Come," said Verstork, as he tried to calm his friend, "let us not remain standing here, men, women and children are beginning to crowd round." "Those people," cried Grenits, "were just now looking on at those filthy scenes through the chinks of the bamboo walls." "And," said van Beneden, "the opium farmers did not try to prevent them, but seemed on the contrary to encourage them. I could see it all plainly enough." "Come," said Verstork again, "let us be off. Let us go and sit down again under the Wariengien tree. Oppas," continued he to one of the policemen who always kept near him, "you go and tell these dessa people that they are to go home--it is time for all to go to sleep." CHAPTER XVI. THE OPIUM-MONOPOLY. A QUIET CHAT. The people of Kaligaweh were quiet folk, and did as they were told. Very soon the dessa had resumed its ordinary peaceful appearance, and the little group of European gentlemen were once again seated under the widely-spreading crown of the gigantic wild-fig tree. But if, a short time ago, they had paid but very little attention to the wondrous beauties of the tropical night, their visit to the opium-den made them still more indifferent to its attractions. As soon as they were again seated, the conversation, naturally enough, turned upon the terrible scenes which they had witnessed. "In that passage," said Grashuis, who, as surveyor, was accustomed to take in local details at a glance, "there were twenty-four doors and therefore there must be twenty-four such hideous pens. If all of them--What a pity it is that we allowed ourselves to be scared and that we did not carry out our investigation to the end." "No, no, my friend," said Verstork, "I am glad we did not. Almost all the recesses were occupied, and the scenes which they would have revealed would have differed only from those you saw in the degree of beastliness. I repeat it--it is much better that we did not go on. But, when I tell you that in the dessa Kaligaweh there are some eighty households which number about six hundred souls, one hundred and thirty of which are able-bodied working men, and that such a den as we visited remains open for three-quarters of the four-and-twenty hours--And when I further tell you that if you had looked into the wretched huts all around you would have found many an opium-smoker in them also--then, I think you will be able to form some idea of the extent which the abuse of opium has attained." "Do you happen to know," asked Grashuis, who was fond of statistics, "what percentage of the inhabitants is given to this abuse of opium?" "Well," returned the other, "I do not think we shall do much good by troubling ourselves about figures which are generally misleading and only serve to prove how clever statisticians are in the art de grouper les chiffres." "Yes," said Grenits, "and we know full well that treasury officials have very little scruples on such points." "It is a blessing that Muizenkop does not hear you say that," said van Rheijn, with a laugh, "you would see him fire up at such a suggestion." "With regard to Kaligaweh," continued Verstork, "I venture most confidently to assert that there are not ten men in the dessa who are free from the vice of opium smoking." "Humph," muttered van Beneden, who, though a lawyer, was also fond of figures, "that is about 93 per cent." "I found that out," continued the controller, "when, about a twelvemonth ago I was on the look-out for a man to put into the place of my former loerah; a good fellow enough, but one whom the opium-pipe had rendered totally unfit for any position of trust." "Did you succeed?" asked Grenits. "Yes, I did; but not without much difficulty. It was my intention to appoint Setrosmito, the poor devil who just now has got himself into trouble, and it was only because the man could neither read nor write that I had to give up the idea. The inquiries, however, which I then was forced to make, revealed to me the startling fact that women, and even children of eight or nine years of age use opium. They actually scrape out the father's pipe in order to get hold of the fatal narcotic." "But," remarked van Beneden, "Kaligaweh probably forms an exception." "Not by any means," rejoined Verstork, testily; "during my official career I have been stationed in several residencies, and I venture to affirm that, as far as opium is concerned, their condition is much the same as that in Santjoemeh. You will find hundreds of dessas in the island like Kaligaweh." "I suppose," put in Grenits, "we must except the Preanger districts?" "Oh yes, certainly," assented Verstork, "the use of opium is altogether forbidden there." "And does that work well?" "Excellently," said Verstork. "That is, I have no doubt," asked Grashuis, "a tentative measure on the part of the Government which, if it succeeds, will be extended to the whole of Java?" "Not at all," replied Verstork. "In the first place the prohibition has been in force too long to be merely tentative for it dates back as far as 1824; and then, in the next, it was not at all adopted with the view of checking the abuse of opium; but merely because it was feared that the people would take to coffee-stealing in order to be able to satisfy their craving." "Come," said van Rheijn, "that is not at all a bad idea." "Is it possible," exclaimed Grashuis, "to conceive a more cynical confession of the fact that opium demoralises the people?" "And if," continued Grenits, "you add that confession to the scenes which we have just witnessed, then put the question seriously to yourselves: is there any truth in the assertion made by van Rheijn and backed up by van Beneden, that the abuse of opium can in any way be compared to the abuse of alcohol, or put on the same level with it? No, no, in my opinion, it is infinitely more deplorable!" "Such is my opinion also," assented Verstork; "every attempt made to put down or to limit the extent of opium-smoking and to check its abuse, must be looked upon as an act of much greater philanthropy than the efforts made by the friends of temperance or the preachers of total abstinence. But--" "Yes--but what?" cried another. "But," continued he, "every such attempt is a direct blow aimed at the revenue at home." "Aye, aye, there you have it," said Grenits; "and whenever you raise such a question as that, our good friends at the Hague are uncommonly hard of hearing." "Well, I don't blame them," interrupted van Rheijn, "they cannot afford to sacrifice the millions which the opium trade pours into the treasury." "God help us!" cried Grenits, "did ever man hear such an argument as that? What would you say to a thief who would try to excuse his theft by saying that he was in need of the stolen money to go and fuddle himself in a beershop; or to a murderer who would try and justify his crime by stating that he poisoned his uncle only because he wanted the inheritance to--to--well, say to keep his mistress?" "Oh, oh, oh!" cried several voices, "what a comparison!" "Yes," said Verstork, "the comparison is certainly not flattering; but it has the advantage of being a perfectly just one. So long as our country indulges in the costly luxury of an administration such as ours; and so long as it maintains the opium trade in its present state to furnish funds for that costly administration: such proceeding may very justly be compared to the action of a thief who steals a banknote in order to go and spend it in a gin-palace." "Or rather," cried Grenits, "to that of a man who poisons his uncle so that he may have the handling of his money. I consider the latter comparison to be a still more just one; because it cannot be denied that though Holland has always treated her Indian possessions as a milch-cow, the present system of scraping and squeezing is beginning to exceed all reasonable bounds and limits." "Oh! oh!" again cried van Rheijn and van Beneden as in protest. "Well gentlemen," asked Grenits, "am I exaggerating? Tell me now, are they not, at home, exceeding all limits and bounds in the heavy taxation which they heap on the shoulders of the industrial and commercial classes?" "Aye, but," remarked van Beneden, "you must remember that in Holland people have to pay taxes as well as out here." "If you will take the trouble to look into the matter," said Grenits, "you will find that they do not pay anything like what the people have to pay here. Then again, I ask, do they not exceed all bounds and limits in increasing the burdens, already too heavy, which the poor native population has to bear?" "I quite agree with you there," said Verstork. "Do they not," continued Grenits, "exceed all limits in the pitiful and niggardly way in which they treat their soldiers out here?" "How so?" asked van Rheijn. "Why, to give you but one instance, by loudly declaring that there is peace at Atjeh--a peace which has no real existence whatever--and thereby robbing the poor soldiers and doing them clean out of their already too meagre pay?" "Oh, what need we bother ourselves about those soldier fellows!" cried van Rheijn. "Do they not again," continued Grenits, "overpass all reasonable limits, by encouraging and fostering the abuse of opium?" "Now, that is too bad," cried van Beneden, "now you are going too far; that accusation of yours is not a fair one." "You think so, do you?" said Grenits. "Well then just take Band's book in hand. There you will find proof absolute of the fact that it is, and has always been, the policy at the Hague to encourage and to foster the opium-trade as much as possible. Figures are stubborn things--just listen to what they have to say. In 1832, the opium revenue amounted to three millions, in 1842 it rose to very nearly seven millions. In 1870 it was quite ten millions, in 1880 it amounted to thirteen millions. In 1885 that same revenue rose to nineteen millions; and new, in 1886, it is estimated at quite twenty one millions, and our House of Representatives has accepted that estimate without the slightest demur, and without one word of protest. Of course, every now and then, there is a great moan made in political and in other circles at home, and a great deal is said about the iniquities of the opium trade; but, for all that, the authorities have their hands perfectly free and are encouraged by all parties to squeeze out of that trade as much as it can be made to yield." "But, excuse me," asked van Rheijn, "is it not one of the first duties of every government to make an impost as productive as possible?" "Certainly it is,--and it is precisely therein that lies the immorality and the demoralizing tendency of the opium-monopoly. You see, in order to enable the farmers to increase their bids, the abuse of the drug must be encouraged. Thus the poor natives are driven, we may say, into the opium-den by any and by every means--the most illegal and the dirtiest means seem to have the preference. Just read our local papers, and then you will be edified, I think, at the infamous annoyance which the Chinese opium-factors are empowered to inflict upon the non-consumers, and at the unlimited control they are allowed to exercise, always in the most shameless and arbitrary fashion, over any poor wretch who, seeing, it may be, the error of his ways, tries to diminish his daily consumption." "Or provide himself with smuggled opium," remarked van Rheijn, interrupting him. Grenits, however, paid no heed to the remark, and went on: "The opium-monopoly was originally established with the very laudable object of raising the price of the article and of thus leaving it within the reach of as few people as possible. On that principle, therefore, every regulation must be condemned which tends to augment the revenue by increasing, the sale. But, at present, our Colonial Secretary relies upon the system as a regular means of increasing the revenue. When we have such facts as these before us, facts which can be proved to demonstration, then we feel ourselves driven to pronounce this judgment: 'Our government and our representatives are fully convinced of the terrible and fatal effects of the abuse of opium by their Indian subjects; but they will not consent to forego the profit which they obtain by the wholesale poisoning of an entire population.'" "Come, come, poisoning! That is a rather strong word!" cried van Beneden. "Yes," continued Grenits, very quietly, "I said poisoning--that was my word. If in Holland an apothecary does not keep his opium in the proper poison chest, or if he is detected in selling it without the proper order from a medical man, he is fined--very heavily fined. Am I not right, van Nerekool?" Thus addressed van Nerekool raised his head, looked up vacantly for a moment or two and gave an affirmative nod; it seemed very doubtful whether he had understood the question at all. Grenits, however, accepted that nod as a gesture of assent, and continued: "Yet that same poison may here be procured without the slightest difficulty, nay more than that, is actually forced upon the poor people in the most shameless manner by the Chinese scoundrels who keep the opium dens. And that goes on under the eyes, and with the full cognizance, sanction, and under the protection of the Dutch Government." "You are growing tiresome," sneered van Rheijn, "you keep on harping on that one string--the Dutch Government--The fact is, my dear fellow, you are tarred with the self-same brush of discontent as all the manufacturers and merchants out here in India." "Why should I not be?" cried Grenits passionately. "I do not always agree with all their opinions; but yet I do form a part of that important commercial body; and when a question arises which effects the vital interests of industry and commerce--Well, yes, then you may say that I am tarred with the same brush." "But have these grumblers really so very much to complain of?" asked Grashuis in a bantering tone of voice. "I should think they have," replied Grenits. "Under our present system we are not only flayed; but we are sucked dry, in a manner which, elsewhere, would drive men to open rebellion. When the Dutch revolted against Spain, and when the Belgians rose up in arms against the Dutch, neither of them had anything like so much to complain of as we have here,--neither of them suffered anything like the extortion which the Indo-Europeans have to put up with at the hands of their present oppressors." "Oh, oh, oh!" cried several voices. "We have now to pay duties and taxes compared to which the tithes at which our ancestors rebelled were the merest child's play. And then, in return, what rights do we enjoy?--If one could, on so serious a subject, be capable of indulging in a sorry joke--I might say that we have the privilege only of having absolutely no rights at all. For, that which here in India goes by the name of law and justice, is in reality nothing more than the merest burlesque; and that is especially true in all matters which concern the revenue. Wherever there is a little money to be made, the State flings itself upon its victims as some ravenous beast leaps upon its prey, and then one may look in vain for the smallest protection--least of all in any case which concerns that imperium in imperio the terrible opium monopoly!" "You are exaggerating, you are talking wildly!" cried van Rheijn. "I wish I were," continued Grenits; "but just take up that terrible book 'Might versus Right,' a book written by a member of the High Court of Justice at Batavia, who was formerly, for many years, Attorney General in that same court, and for half an ordinary lifetime was president of the Residential Council. A man, therefore, who ought to know, and who does know what he is talking about, and then--when you have read what he has to say--tell me if I am exaggerating." "Oh, the writer of that book is another grumbler!" said van Rheijn, "whose only object is to set the whole world against the functionaries of our Administration." "That is a very heavy accusation to bring against a man who, in my opinion, is thoroughly honest, and who has had the courage, and therefore deserves the credit, of having told the plain unvarnished truth. Such, however, is our national gratitude!" "Oh yes!" cried van Rheijn, "I am not at all surprised to find you commercial men in ecstasies about that man and about his book. To all grumblers it is of course meat and drink." "Let me tell you, my good fellow," said Grenits, "that those whom you call grumblers have had good cause given them for discontent." "Come, come," said the other, "you talk very finely; but after all they are only a pitiful handful of very tame insurgents. Depend upon it we shall manage very easily to keep order among them." "Yes, yes, I know," said Grenits, bitterly, "that is the old stock phrase. It was used some little time ago by certain organs of the Dutch press when the people, exasperated by vexatious extortions, strove--by perfectly legitimate means mind you--to resist acts of arbitrary injustice and exaction on the part of the Dutch Government. "Tame insurgents!" continued he, vehemently. "Tame insurgents! By heaven! let them not at home taunt us much longer with that name. A very little more, and they will be at their wits' end to deal with an insurrection which will prove itself anything but tame. Don't let them forget, yonder, that, to carry on a miserable war like that at Atjeh, they had to sweep up the scum of Europe; for you know that Dutch heroism in our towns at home made the poor wretches whom they manage to press for that service sing the pleasant refrain: 'My life is pain and woe, To Atjeh I will go ...'" "Grenits, Grenits!" cried Verstork, trying to calm his friend's growing excitement. "Yes," said he, "my dear Verstork, I am wrong and I am going too far, I have very nearly done. But those heedless words, 'tame insurgents,' have worked a great deal more mischief than those who first uttered them could possibly foresee. They have proved to us that, in our lawful resistance to extortion, we have nothing to expect but only contempt and abuse. May God in his mercy protect Holland! But I have good reason to know that if a man were to arise amongst us possessed of the necessary talent for organisation, and one who, at the same time, had sufficient tact to gather around him all that discontent which at present is powerless because it is divided amongst itself--If such a man, I say, were to arise who could make the most of the utter state of perplexity they are in yonder--we, the 'tame insurgents,' would make our mother country pass through very evil days indeed!" "Well," said van Rheijn, "all that is not so very formidable after all. In case matters came to the worst, the army would know how to do its duty." "Its duty!" cried Grenits. "That sounds well from you who just now were the first to scoff at those 'soldier fellows'. But I ask you this one question:--Has the Government any right whatever to reckon upon the fulfilment of that duty? Has it not neglected, in the most shameful manner, its duty towards that army? I will allow--I am indeed fully persuaded--that in spite of any treatment the officers would stick to their duty, and would do it strictly and honourably. But--! can one expect as much from all the foreigners, which have been shipped out hither? Why, even now in Atjeh, they are deserting to the enemy with bag and baggage, with arms and ammunition--and, in the case I was supposing, they would go over in entire companies. Can one look for any sense of duty in these poor wretched native soldiers, who have almost to a man, by the most shameful means--by opium, by gambling, by the allurements of the vilest women--been pressed into the service. No, no, pray don't go on deceiving yourselves." "There!" cried van Rheijn, "now you are simply talking treason--your language is seditious." "Treason, do you call it?" cried Grenits, passionately. "When I do nothing more than lay my finger upon the wound?" "Gentlemen," said Verstork interposing, "methinks it is high time to close this discussion. Such topics are very apt to make men hot, and--moreover, why, it is just past midnight. We must go and get some rest, for to-morrow we must be up by day-break and we have a very fatiguing day before us. The Djoerang Pringapoes which you visited with me this evening, is no ball-room let me tell you--you will find that out to-morrow. Come, let us all turn in and get some sleep!" At these words all, except van Nerekool, rose and prepared to retire. "I am very glad," said Grashuis, "that old Muizenkop was not present at this conversation. Had he been here, by to-morrow evening the Resident would have known all about it, chapter and verse, with no doubt the necessary additions and flourishes. And then, my good friend Grenits, you would have had a 'mauvais quart d'heure.' Who knows, they might have packed you off to Atapoepoe or to Tomini Bay; perhaps they might have kicked you out of the island altogether. Remember poor lawyer Winckel!" Grenits shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. "Are you coming to bed?" asked Verstork as he walked up to van Nerekool who was still seated with his head resting on his hand outside the hut which the others had already entered. Van Nerekool made no reply, he merely looked up and stared into the face of his friend with a strange dazed expression. "What in the world is the matter with you, old fellow?" said Verstork as he laid his hand on his shoulder and sat down by the side of his friend. "You have been so silent and so absent all day, you must be ill I fear!" "No, William, I am not ill, but I feel so very--so very wretched." "Wretched!" said Verstork, "come now, tell us all about it, there's a good fellow, let me bear some part of your sorrow!" "Ah!" sighed van Nerekool, "I can tell you nothing--nothing that you could share with me. William, my dear friend, you recollect our conversation of last Saturday night at Santjoemeh?" "Every word of it," replied Verstork. "I then told you that in one week's time I would give you my reasons why I considered your love affair with Miss van Gulpendam a very sad business. That week is up to-day--is it not?" "Yes, my friend," said van Nerekool very sadly. "But you can tell me nothing now. During the last week many things have happened. I suppose that even on Saturday last you knew that Resident van Gulpendam was not at all well disposed towards me?" To that question Verstork gave no direct reply; but he insisted upon being told all that had taken place. "Come," said he, "come, Charles, tell me all about it. You know perfectly well that you have in me a true friend. Let us hear all about it." "But," replied van Nerekool, "you want rest. You ought to go to sleep. To-morrow you have a hard day before you." "Oh!" said Verstork, lightly, "never mind about that. I have often enough gone the rounds of the government coffee-plantations, and have passed many a sleepless night in the dessas with quite as hard a day in prospect as to-morrow is likely to be. I can very easily afford an old friend like you an hour or so of sleep. Do pray speak out." Charles van Nerekool hesitated no longer. He felt indeed in great need of sympathy; and wanted, above all things, to pour out his heart to his friend. He began his story therefore, by telling him how, on the occasion of the State-ball, he had declared his love to Anna. In the most vivid colours he described to his friend that happy moment in which, carried away by the excitement of the dance and the glorious tones of Weber's waltz, he had allowed the long-treasured secret of his heart to escape from him; and his rapture when the girl, whom he so dearly loved, had uttered the one little word which assured him that she returned his affection. He told him of that sacred moment when their lips first met in the garden. "Oscula qui sumpsit, si non et caetera sumpsit Haec quoque quae data sunt, perdere dignus erat." muttered Verstork to himself. He, in his youth, had studied the classics, and now he could not help smiling as he recalled the two well-known lines from Ovid's Ars Amandi. But when he saw with what a sorrowful shake of the head his friend answered the half audible quotation, he at once discovered how deep a wound had been struck into that poor heart. The story of that blissful love-scene and of those happy moments spent in the garden of the Residence in the shade of the Padan arbour, was followed by an equally graphic description of the rude awakening out of that dream of love and felicity. Charles van Nerekool went on telling his friend how Mrs. van Gulpendam had broken in upon the interview--he told him all about the conversation which he afterwards had held with fair Laurentia. A very very bitter smile passed over the Controller's lips when he heard what means of seduction the Resident's wife had deigned to employ. "My poor friend, my poor friend," he muttered almost inaudibly; "but is this all?" "Oh, no!" cried van Nerekool. "Well, go on, I am all ears." "The next day," continued van Nerekool, "I paid a visit to the Residence, as I had promised Anna I would do; in order to lay before her father my formal request for her hand. I had great difficulty in obtaining an audience at all; and it was not until after I had waited for a considerable time that I got to be admitted into the presence of the Resident. "'I have not very much time to spare, sir,' were his first words of welcome when he saw me enter the office in which he sat to receive me. "'I have not very much time to spare, therefore I beg you will at once get under weigh.' "'Mr. van Gulpendam,' I began, 'yesterday I had some talk with Miss Anna--and--' "'Do pray set sail at once,' cried he, interrupting my opening speech, 'I tell you again I have no time for dawdling. I may at once tell you that I do not think it a very proper thing for a gentleman to get a young girl into a quiet corner. Fair and above board is my motto, sir. An honest man sails straight into port. All that tacking and trimming are not to my taste, I can tell you.' "'My dear sir!' cried I, 'I have already told Mrs. van Gulpendam that the excitement and the surroundings had quite thrown me off my guard. It is now, and it always was, my intention to ask you fairly and openly for your daughter's hand. There can, between us, be no question of any intrigues or mysteries, and my presence here, Mr. van Gulpendam, has no other motive than to declare to you my love to Miss Anna, and to obtain your sanction to our union as man and wife.' "'So, so,' said he, 'does the wind sit in that quarter? You have pricked your chart very prettily indeed. Now would you like to know what I have put down in my log, eh?' "'Mr. van Gulpendam, I can assure you that I never was more serious in my life--the question is to me one of the utmost importance,' said I, amazed and disgusted at all this sea-jargon. 'In heaven's name let us lay aside all jesting. I simply have the honour of asking you for the hand of your daughter.' "'Mr. van Nerekool,' he replied, 'I also am in a most serious mood.' This he said in a somewhat nettled tone, however, not another nautical expression passed his lips during the interview. 'How can you suspect me of jesting, when I ask you whether you can surmise to what decision I am about to come with regard to your question?' "'I hope,' cried I, 'that your decision will not be unfavourable to me! Oh, sir, I love Miss Anna with all my heart and with all my soul!' "'Of course, of course,' said he, 'these are the regular stock phrases of all lovers. Now, are you really and seriously in love with her?' "'How can you ask such a question?' cried I, vehemently. "'Well,' replied van Gulpendam, 'I have my reasons,--and they are very good reasons too--for doing so. You had an interview yesterday evening with my wife, had you not?' "'Yes, Resident,' was my reply. "'And the conversation you then held with her opened up to you the prospect of a future career. I think I am right there?' was his second question. "I simply sat staring at the man in utter amazement. Never, never, could it have come into my head that he and his wife were of the same way of thinking in such a matter as that." "Why not, pray?" asked Verstork, very quietly. "Why, my dear friend, I looked upon the Resident as worldly and frivolous indeed; but I thought he was an honourable man, and one who kept himself altogether clear of the intrigues in which his wife appears to dabble." Again the bitter smile curved Verstork's lips; but in the deep shadow of the the Wariengien tree, van Nerekool failed to perceive it. "Go on," said Verstork, who, though deeply moved, spoke in so perfectly quiet and composed a tone of voice, that his friend did not notice his feelings. "To his last question," resumed van Nerekool, "I replied, 'Yes, Resident, you are right. Mrs. van Gulpendam did make me certain proposals.' "'She spoke to you then of your future prospects, as well as on the subject of your present request?' asked the Resident. "'Yes, Resident,' was my reply,--indeed I was growing very nervous. "'Well, then,' resumed he, 'you see that you have the making of your career entirely in your own hands; and I do hope that you will now at length prove yourself a man of some practical common sense.' "My dear William! at these words, which, you will notice, cast a grave suspicion upon the motive of my request, upon which, however, my entire happiness depended, I felt, as it were, the ground sinking away from under me. "'But, Resident,' I cried, in despair, 'do you really know what Mrs. van Gulpendam did propose to me?' "'Well, yes,' he said, in a very off-hand and somewhat mocking manner, 'pretty well, pretty well, I think. She held out to you the prospect of being appointed successor to the present Chairman of the Council at Santjoemeh, which important position, I think she told you, might very probably be permanently conferred upon you. Further she did not refuse you her daughter's hand--whom you declare that you love so very dearly. You see I am pretty well informed. Now, if you have called upon me this morning to ascertain what guarantees I can give you that these proposals will be realised--and allow me to tell you that is the course a sensible man would certainly take--then, I think I may say, you need not be uneasy.' "This utterly false interpretation of my motives, stung me to the quick. What ignoble thoughts and sentiments must have been stirring in that bosom! "'Mr. van Gulpendam!' I cried out, interrupting him, very warmly, 'I was not in the least thinking of those proposals. Still less, if possible, did I call here this morning in order to ascertain your intentions--nothing of all this was present to my mind when I asked you whether you were aware of the offers Mrs. van Gulpendam made me last night.' "'Indeed,' said he very coolly, 'then I fear I have misunderstood you altogether, Mr. van Nerekool. In that case with what intention did you put that question to me?' "'What was my intention?' I replied. 'Why, my intention was simply this. Are you aware that Mrs. van Gulpendam asked me to violate my oath and my duty?' "'Oh, come, come,' said he all but laughing at me. "'Are you aware,' I continued still more hotly, 'that I was actually required to send a poor innocent man into banishment?' "'My dear sir, you must be dreaming,' said he in the same tone of banter. "'Are you aware,' I still continued, 'that the prospect of obtaining your daughter's hand, that honours and promotion were offered me at the price of a human life?' "'Now Mr. van Nerekool,' cried van Gulpendam with much assumed indignation, 'now you are going too far! I forbid you to utter such insinuations and to make such charges against my wife. What! you come here to me to ask me for my daughter's hand, and you think you will obtain your request, I suppose, by heaping insults and slanders upon the mother of the woman you pretend to love!' "'Insults and slanders!' I exclaimed. "At these words of mine he cooled down immediately. "'Well' said he, 'perhaps the expression is too strong. There must be some misunderstanding.' And then, very quietly, he went on: 'Your proposal, Mr. van Nerekool, is a great honour both to my daughter and to myself. It has, however, come upon me so very unexpectedly that I feel sure you will allow me some time for reflection. I must indeed take some little time to consider a matter upon which the entire happiness of my daughter will depend. Moreover, you see there can be no hurry. Anna is very young--she is indeed much too young to think of marriage just yet.' "'You do not therefore deprive me of hope?' I exclaimed and, in my excitement, I seized his hand and held it. "He looked at me in astonishment. 'I can promise you nothing, absolutely nothing, Mr. van Nerekool. Anna has plenty of time before her, she can take a year--two years, perhaps--before she decides upon a step which involves a union for life. By that time we can talk over these matters again. Meanwhile--' He broke off hesitating. "'Meanwhile?' I asked almost breathlessly. "'Meanwhile,' he continued very coldly, 'you will do well not to continue your visits at the Residence. I know you do not wish to compromise a simple-hearted and honest young girl, I shall, therefore, not expect to see you here excepting, of course, at our official receptions.' "That was plain speaking enough,--was it not William? It was tantamount to a refusal." Verstork looked at his friend with very real and deep sympathy. "I had a presentiment," he said, "of the trouble that was awaiting you. You remember in what manner I received your communication last week?" "Yes, and to-day you promised you would let me know why--" "Now tell me, Charles," said Verstork, "is there any need for me to say anything more? You must, by this time, I presume, have been able to form a pretty accurate estimate of the family circle into which you would have been received in case your offer had been accepted." "But William, Anna--!" "Oh, yes," cried Verstork, "I know Anna is the purest and most amiable creature in the world. I know, as well as you do, that Anna is absolutely innocent of all this intrigue and trickery. Indeed I have often wondered how so fair a flower could have opened and developed in the midst of such surroundings. But, let the girl be--why simply what she is--however adorable she may be, if you marry her you cannot help being fettered to her parents, who are most certainly the most self-seeking and most corrupt beings which can possibly be found in any respectable society. My dear friend, just reflect how utterly and hopelessly wretched you would be tied to such a pair of schemers. That, my dear fellow, was the very thing I wanted to point out to you." Van Nerekool heaved a deep sigh and, lost in thought, did not answer a word. He sat as one in a dream, with his head resting on his hand, peering upwards into the vast crown of the Wariengien tree through which the moon, now high up in the heavens, was casting her soft white beams. For awhile Verstork respected his friend's silence. At length he said: "Come now, Charles, you have, I hope, somewhat relieved your breast. I have with a single word been able to draw your attention to that which it imported you much to know. Now try and forget all this for a while in sleep. You have this day had a long--and to you who are unaccustomed to such exercise--a necessarily fatiguing ride. Rest will, therefore, be most beneficial to you. To-morrow still greater fatigues are in store for you. These also I hope will be a distraction, and prove wholesome to your mind. If we would be fit for work to-morrow we must get some sleep. Come along." Van Nerekool sighed again. Without a word he rose, he pressed the hand of his friend and then followed him into the hut. The others were already fast asleep, and he stretched himself out by their side upon the wooden bench. CHAPTER XVII. IN THE DJOERANG PRINGAPOES. Toeaan!--Toeaaan!--Toeaaaan!-- Such were the most unwelcome sounds which, a few hours later, were heard in the hut in which all our friends lay heavily sleeping. Gentle sleep had, at length, taken compassion on poor van Nerekool also. For a long time after his conversation with Verstork, he had not been able to close an eye; and had been tumbling and tossing about and making the crazy couch creak and groan to such an extent that Leendert Grashuis and August van Beneden, who were close beside him, had uttered many an angry exclamation: "For heaven's sake keep quiet! don't keep rolling about like that--it is enough to make a fellow sea-sick--" and then again: "The majesty of the law seems uncommonly restless to-night; perhaps the mosquitoes trouble it, or an unquiet conscience, or a fit of the blues." But at length, thank God, Charles had fallen into a deep sleep; he was not destined, however, very long to enjoy that blissful rest. "Toeaan! Toeaaan!" Thus once again the voice began to cry. It was the voice of Verstork's servant who had got the watchman of the guard-house to wake him, and was now very cautiously trying to rouse his master out of his sleep. But the Javanese servant felt that he was engaged in a very ticklish duty; and he set about it with all the circumspection which he was aware such unpleasant duties required. He knew, by sad experience, that European gentlemen are apt to lose their temper when suddenly, at a very early hour, they are aroused out of a delightful sleep; therefore, on all such occasions the wily Javanese serving-man preferred to keep at a respectful distance from his Kandjeng toean, who, he knew, might at such a time be easily moved to raise his hand and deal him a sound box on the ears for his trouble. Not that Verstork was at all given to such rough usage of his servants; on the contrary, he was known and beloved among the natives for his kindly consideration, and for the coolness of his temper. But this was a wholly exceptional occasion, and one could never tell what the sudden irritation of being roughly shaken out of a pleasant slumber might produce. It was very easy to get a good slap in the face, and therefore the astute Javanese prudently kept himself at a safe distance. "Toeaan! Toeaaan!" he ventured to say again in a very intense drawling whisper. But Verstork did not hear him. "Toeaan! Kandjeng toeaan!" Still not a word! Then the servant very cautiously crept up to the couch. When he was close to his master he again cried out, in a still more subdued and still more drawling voice, "Toeaaan! toeaaaan!" Still Verstork stirred not a limb, only van Nerekool seemed to have caught the sound, and was beginning to move about restlessly. Then the man, very gently--so gently that it could not disturb the sleeper--began to fold back that part of the rug which covered his master's feet. The faint glimmer of the lamp which hung dangling from one of the rafters, just allowed him to see what he was about. When he had laid bare one of Verstork's feet, he began very, very gently to tickle his master's great-toe, while in the same cautious manner he again whispered "Toeaaan! toeaaaan!" and seemed, by the very humility of his voice, to beg pardon for the liberty he was taking in rousing his high and mighty master. This tickling of the toe had, at once, the desired effect. Starting up Verstork sat up and cried: "Who is there?" As he said these words he put his hand to his foot, evidently fearing that a snake had touched him. Indeed, the chilly and leathery skin of a native may very easily convey such an impression, especially on a man who is but half awake. "Who is there?" he cried again. But by this time the Javanese servant had, with a bound, jumped away out of the possible reach of his master's hand, and from the furthest corner of the hut he said: "It is I, Kandjeng toean!" "What do you want?" roared the Controller, now thoroughly aroused, and not in the sweetest temper. "It is now four o'clock, and the dessa people are all waiting." "Is that all?" growled Verstork, who thought that his rest had been very unnecessarily disturbed. Who knows what absurdity he might in his drowsiness have added, had not the "toeaan, toeaan" of his servant, and the subsequent noise awakened van Beneden also, who was sleeping quite close to him. He jumped up at once, and the moment he was awake began, as the Resident might perhaps have said, to turn up all hands. "Come boys!" he shouted cheerily "Come boys, get up all of you!" as he threw himself from his bed with such energy as made the slight bamboo structure sway and creak as if it had been rocked by an earthquake. "What's the matter, what's up?" cried several voices starting out of sleep. "What's up?" cried van Beneden. "There's nothing up! You get up, all of you, as fast as you can. It is four o'clock, and the dessa folk are all ready for the chase." That word acted like magic. In a twinkling all were on their legs. They dressed, washed, combed, brushed themselves as well as one can perform all these processes in the interior of a dessa, which offers no great facilities for an elaborate toilet to Europeans who have passed the night in a small country hut. For washing, indeed, there was no convenience at all--the only basin in the place was a mere potsherd. But, all were anxious to be off, and like soldiers who, in the field, have not always Sèvres or even Delt at command, they did the best they could, and soon completed their hasty toilet. Diogenes, the Greek philosopher of Sinope, had frequently, no doubt, dressed himself in much the same fashion. In a few moments all were ready, even van Nerekool who was bent upon seeking some relief for mental pain in physical exertion. When they stepped out of the cabin they saw the entire male population seated cross-legged on the village green, trying to protect themselves from the cold morning air by drawing their sarongs as far as possible over their shoulders. Every man had brought his lance, and had stuck it upright before him into the ground. Every one of them held a huge rattle, an instrument very like that with which our old watchmen used to murder sleep while they pretended to keep guard over the sleepers. The moon was, by this time, casting her beams under the branches of the Wariengien tree, and, as the pale light shone upon that strange group of human beings seated there in a crouching posture, it illustrated most vividly the theory of Darwin, so very much did that assembly look like a great conclave of apes. "Are all your men here, Loerah?" asked Verstork. "Yes, Kandjeng toean." "Very good. Then send one part of them round by the maize fields of the dessa, let the second division spread itself to the westward over the neck of the Dojerang Pringapoes, and let the rest go right into the ravine." "Yes, Kandjeng toean--But--!" "Well, but what?" asked Verstork, noticing the Loerah's hesitation. "May not the animals," said the chief, "thus make their escape through the eastern side of the ravine?" "How so, Loerah?" said Verstork. "You have heard, I suppose, that the people from Banjoe Pahit will occupy the whole of the eastern side, and part even of the western side of the ravine? Very good, now we understand each other I hope. We shall get on horseback at once, and will post ourselves in the upper part of the pass, and, if our instructions have been properly carried out, the whole of the game must come that way. Now, just listen carefully to what I have to tell you, Loerah." "Yes, Kandjeng toean." "As soon as we have got to the upper part of the ravine we shall fire a shot." "Shall we hear it, sir, right down at the bottom?" "You are right, Loerah, quite right, it is a good distance--perhaps too far--Well then, I will tell you what you must do. As soon as day begins to break--but, mind you, before the sun has fairly risen--you will set your beaters to work. But, whatever you do, take care that the beasts have the road to the ravine left open to them." "Yes, Kandjeng toean," was the invariable answer of the Loerah, always spoken in the most respectful tone. Then in the deepest silence the beaters betook themselves to their posts while the European horsemen took the road to Banjoe Pahit. As yet it was quite dark, so that the horses had to proceed at a very slow walk. This very moderate pace was absolutely necessary, because the road which they had to follow was a narrow path leading through the flooded rice fields, and the slightest deviation might have led to a highly unpleasant mud-bath. Presently, however, a faint streak of light was beginning to show itself on the eastern horizon. At first it was all but imperceptible, it seemed like a faint reflection of the waning moonlight; but gradually it became broader and deeper, then is began to spread a fiery glow over the eastern sky, and made the stars, which were still brightly twinkling in the zenith, to pale and fade away. The narrow path kept winding upwards; for Banjoe Pahit, towards which the riders were making their way, lay on much higher ground than Kaligaweh which was situated on the low foreshore. As the dawning light grew clearer and brighter, the horsemen were able to mend their pace, and soon the horses were going along at a good sharp trot, impelled, in a measure, by the instinct which told them that they were heading in the direction of their stables. The upper end of the ravine was reached in good time, and the horsemen dismounted and gave their beasts in charge of a couple of Javanese servants who had come to meet them along with the body of beaters from Banjoe Pahit to which Mokesuep also had joined himself. These men at once took the horses home to the dessa. It was not yet full daylight. The western sky was still a deep dark blue; but in the East the dawn was clothing itself in all the brilliant hues which herald the near approach of the perfect day. On all sides trees and bushes grew in the wildest disorder, and in their branches birds innumerable were piping and warbling, each, in his own way, sending up his hymn of praise to the great Creator. Leaves, twigs, boughs, flowers, and grass-blades, all were thickly covered with the tiniest possible specks of dew; and, as the light gradually brightened in the East, seemed bathed as it were in molten silver. In spite of their impatience to begin their work upon the game, our young friends could not help pausing for a few moments in order to admire the magnificent spectacle before them, and to enjoy the delightful freshness of that glorious time which immediately precedes a sunrise; when suddenly, very far in the distance, was heard the confused noise of a most frightful tumult. "There they go!" cried Verstork, "those are our beaters, what a row the fellows are making to be sure." The natives were indeed hard at it, springing their rattles, banging on bamboos, yelling and screaming in a manner which drowned every other sound in nature, especially in that solemn morning hour when the orb of day is just about to rise. At first the noise was heard as a mere confused hum very far away in the distance; but, as it gradually drew nearer and nearer, it became so exciting that even poor van Nerekool, forgetting his woes for a while, ran up and down clutching his rifle with trembling hand, and some of his companions, more excited even than he was, had their weapons at full cock, ready to open fire at a moment's notice. "Now then, my friends," said Verstork, trying to calm down all this unnecessary flurry; "pray keep quiet. We have plenty of time before us. Please all keep cool, or we shall have some accident with those firearms." "Are we in a good position here?" asked Grashuis. "We are standing too close together it strikes me," remarked van Beneden. "I intend to take you a little further into the ravine," said Verstork. So they all advanced some fifty or hundred yards along a steep pathway which ran winding down through shaggy bushes and rocky boulders. Just by the side of that rugged path, the brook Banjoe Pahit began its downward course along its bed of rocks. It was a wonderfully beautiful little stream; its waters of the purest crystal went dancing from crag to crag, forming, in one place, a pleasant little basin or pool, at another tumbling down in foaming cataracts and splashing waterfalls, then, suddenly and mysteriously, disappearing altogether for a while amidst the wild shrubs and rugged boulders, and then a little further on, springing up again to renew its brawling and wanton play. The scene in the Djoerang Pringapoes was as wild and savage as possible, but marvellously picturesque withal. When the party had clambered down about a third part of the slope, the massive walls of rock which, up to that point, completely hemmed in the entrance to the ravine and which formed a kind of slit, suddenly ran back like the sides of a funnel, while they continued grandly and majestically to tower up into the sky. The bottom of the ravine, however, as well as its walls, bore abundant evidence of great natural convulsions. Huge boulders were flung about in it at random in all directions, the stems of the trees which grew there were twisted and curled up into lumps and knots and were still bearing tufts of withered grass and nests of dry branches; the smoothly polished rocks also amply testified that when the north-east wind opened the sluice gates of heaven and the water-floods came down in torrents from the heights--the Banjoe Pahit could howl and roar along, and form dreadful currents and whirlpools; and that, at such times, it was well to keep out of the now quiet defile. As the hunters were looking about them at the savage scene around, the din made by the beaters was gradually coming nearer and nearer. It was still a considerable way off and not a solitary head of game had shown itself. "I wonder how that is?" said August van Beneden. "I fancied that we might have set to work shooting at once. May not our wild boars, if there are any at all in this ravine, have got away by some other road?" "No, no," replied Verstork, "the Djoerang Pringapoes is hemmed in on almost all sides with perpendicular rocks, such as not even a wild pig can climb. There are two or three spots where the walls are not quite so steep, and which such animals might perhaps scale; but, if the Loeras of Banjoe Pahit and of Kaligaweh have carried out my instructions, these weak points have all been occupied by their men, so that none of the animals can have got away by them. The beaters, you see, with their abominable rattles are driving the pigs into the ravine, and I know they will all make for it, especially as it is their usual haunt." "Aye, aye," said van Rheijn, "I see; but once in this ravine, depend upon it they will lie very close, there is plenty of room here for a game at hide and seek, and if they choose to get to cover, we may stand here waiting for them till doomsday." "That might be so," remarked Verstork with a smile, "if the beaters would let them. But those fellows with their rattles will follow the pigs into the ravine and drive them in our direction. You will see how they will manage that presently. Just listen--what a row they are kicking up yonder--one would think they were a pack of fiends!" Verstork indeed might well say so; for your Javanese, under ordinary circumstances cool and phlegmatic enough, can, on such occasions as a boar-hunt, display activity and energy in abundance. Then he seems almost beside himself; then he screams, he yells, he bellows, he whistles, he hisses, he crows, he shrieks. Then he frantically plies his rattle and, with any weapon he may happen to have in his hand, he bangs upon anything and everything he comes across, on trunks of trees, on stones--which, by the way, not unfrequently give out most melodious sounds--on the sheath of his kris--undoubtedly he would bring down a whack on the skull of his neighbour also were he suffered to do so. And all this for the mere purpose of making a noise, the most horrible din imaginable in order to drive the game, which by nature is wild enough, into the direction which he wishes it to take. "Now," said Verstork, "just a few paces further on and then we come to the entrance of the Djoerang Ketjel where a small stream, which we call the Karang Aleh, flows into the Banjoe Pahit. After the junction the two streams flow together through the narrowest gorge of the Pringapoes. Look there, you can see the split in the rocks just ahead. You see we are bounded on all sides by sheer cliffs and the game must pass through this defile to reach the upper part of the ravine and get away." "By Jove," cried van Rheijn, "this does not strike me as a very pleasant spot, the place looks like a picture of universal ruin and desolation." Indeed it was a terrible scene. The ragged sides of the ravines, consisting entirely of grey lava-rock, towered up perpendicularly into the sky. Here and there, on the bare walls, a mass of stone seemed, in its descent, to have stuck fast; and, in course of time, a little soil had gathered on its surface. In this shallow layer of earth, vegetation had immediately sprung up and formed there, as it were, a little green island in the midst of the grey ocean of desolation. Huge fragments of jagged stone lay scattered about in the wildest confusion, and amidst these, many weird and unsightly plants grew and flourished, such as the Sembong, the Kemanden Kerbo and the Oering aring with its venomous prickles. There also were seen the gnarled and twisted stems of the Djatie doerie and of the Siwallan. These stunted trees raised their poor meagre crowns out of the sea of stone, and, by arresting the progress of the débris which the water-flood whirled along, served to block up the pass still more effectually. "Now then, my friends," said Verstork, "let us divide--we are standing here much too close together. Van Nerekool, the Wedono, and myself will take our stand here just opposite this narrow pass. You, Leendert, go with August to the top of that piece of rock which you see yonder to the right. You Theodoor and Frits take up your position on that broken ground on the slope. From those points you will have the gorge completely under your fire, and--if you really are as good shots as you are supposed to be--why then not a solitary pig ought to escape us. But make haste, get into your places--the beaters seem to be getting quite close." It was indeed high time; for every instant the infernal din was coming nearer and growing more distinct. It was, in fact, becoming positively deafening. It sounded as if a veritable Pandemonium had broken loose. Grenits made a very wry face when he found that Mokesuep was to be his companion; but he had no chance of remonstrance at thus being saddled with a most uncongenial companion, for he had to get to his post without delay. The positions which the guns were to occupy had been admirably chosen and showed a perfect knowledge both of the game and of the ground. The marksmen were all posted in full view of one another, so that there could be no risk of accident, at the same time their fire commanded the narrow opening of the ravine which lay open before them. Moreover they were all directed to take their stand upon spots slightly elevated above the level of the soil and were thus, to a great extent, out of the reach of the fearful tusks of the infuriated animals. Thus then they stood, most eagerly watching; but, though the entrance to the Djoerang lay perfectly open before them with here and there a few stunted shrubs much too low and small to conceal even the smallest pig, not a vestige of any animal could be seen. This suspense seemed intolerably long to the impatient and impulsive Europeans who were far from being endowed with the calm phlegmatic temperament of the natives. The Wedono stood there quiet and motionless as a statue. "I can see nothing whatever," shouted August van Beneden to his friend, making use of his hands as a speaking-trumpet. "I fancy our good dessa-folk have taken it easy and have allowed the game to slip away quietly to the right or left." "It is my opinion that the ravine is empty," remarked van Nerekool, to whom this long inaction was more irksome than even to the others. Verstork interpreted van Beneden's words to the Wedono who, rifle in hand, was standing by his side, and asked him if he thought it possible. "It may be,--but--perhaps it is not so," was the chiefs cautious reply. Still they waited, and waited--the din of the beaters was approaching with every moment and their yells became more distinct. A few minutes more would decide the question whether there was any game in the ravine or not, for a very short time would bring the beaters to the mouth of the opening. Verstork was getting quite nervous with impatience, jokes were beginning to pass pretty freely among his friends, and although they were perfectly good-humoured jests and showed not the slightest ill-will towards him, yet they were not pleasant to listen to. Mokesuep was the only one who, in a singularly offensive tone, cried out: "I say, Controller, I hope all that pork we are going to kill won't disagree with us!"-- "Hold your tongue, wretched Muizenkop," said Theodoor Grenits. "You always find some nasty thing to say!" "That's all very fine," replied Mokesuep, "I can tell you I am getting beastly tired of standing here. A lot of fellows invited for a day's shooting, when there is nothing to shoot at!" "The pigs were here all right enough," said Grenits, "you may depend upon that; I don't suppose you can blame Verstork if the beaters have allowed them to escape!" Mokesuep was on the point of making some ill-natured rejoinder when Bang! Bang! Bang! went three rifle shots and interrupted his sneering remarks. They were the rifles of Verstork, of van Nerekool and of the Wedono. These three were posted at the very mouth of the ravine, and had suddenly caught sight of a greyish indistinct mass of living things rushing towards the opening. Quick as thought, the three had thrown their rifles up to their shoulders and had opened fire upon the advancing herd of swine. The other hunters had, as yet, seen nothing. The rattling and yelling of the beaters seemed to redouble in intensity the moment they heard the first shots fired, and almost drowned the discordant grunts and groans of the pigs as they pressed into the narrow defile. From that moment however, all doubts as to the issue of the day's sport were at an end. The three first rifle shots had bowled over the three foremost animals, one of which was a boar of gigantic size, and for a moment stopped the rush of the entire herd. The wounded animals lay on the ground, struggling and fighting, uttering fearful squeaks and striking out right and left with their formidable tusks at those who came behind, thus almost wholly blocking up the narrow opening. That lasted however only for a moment or two, for the noise of the beaters drove the creatures to such a pitch of fury that, in spite of all opposition, they rushed over the bodies of their fallen leaders. But the three men who had first opened fire, had, in those few moments, had time to reload, and an instant after, all the others posted to the right and left caught sight of the game and at once opened fire upon the dense struggling mass of pigs, hardly a single shot being lost. Thereupon a scene of the direst confusion ensued. The wounded animals tumbled over one another uttering groans and squeaks which baffle description. The hindmost ones, still urged on by the terrific noise of the beaters, fought and pushed their way to the front. The sows grimly defended their young and seemed to vent their fury upon the carcases of the dead and wounded, and, in that terrific melée, the bullets of the seven hunters kept plunging with the deadliest effect. The rifled breech-loaders poured shot after shot into the densely packed mass, and every moment the narrow gap became more and more impassible. That went on for the space of about three minutes, during which the breech-loaders plied their unerring fire. Presently van Nerekool said to Verstork: "Are we not running the risk of hitting some of the men in the rear?" "Oh, no," replied Verstork, "if they have followed my instructions there is no danger whatever. A few yards lower down there is a sharp elbow in the ravine, so that if one of our bullets should happen to miss or to pass through the body of one of these beasts it must bury itself in the walls of rock. You hear--according to agreement, the fellows have already stopped their noise--they are not at all anxious to come to close quarters and to expose themselves to a stray bullet." Meanwhile the fire had been kept up with hardly any cessation and with almost the same fatal effect. The grunting herd still was striving to push onward and to get clear of the deadly pass, and again and again the bullets knocked down the foremost, who in their death-struggle, dealt ripping blows all around. But at length, after having for a while wallowed about hopelessly, a small remnant which still remained unwounded, suddenly headed round, led on by a huge black-coloured boar, and now no longer awed by the beaters, made a headlong charge back into the ravine from which they found it impossible to escape. CHAPTER XVIII. ENTRAPPED. "Hurrah! they have turned tail, they are making off!" exclaimed Mokesuep. That hero had all the while been trembling with fear; he had been in mortal terror lest the pigs should break through the line of fire; for if they had succeeded in doing so, a close struggle with the sword bayonet would probably have ensued. Therefore he had most anxiously been peering about to see if he could discover any way of retreat up the steep mountain sides. If, during that morning there had been shots fired which had flown wide of the mark, such misses had been due to his shaking hand. Indeed, some of his bullets had gone right over the wall of rock which hemmed in the ravine on all sides; but most fortunately had not injured any of the Javanese who were beating on the other side. The unpleasant whistling, however, of the projectiles from Mokesuep's rifle had scared the natives, and it was in a measure owing to those stray shots that the beaters had given up the battue rather sooner than they ought to have done. Grenits was in a rage. "What are you hurrahing about," cried he to Mokesuep, "you were never born to be a Nimrod, that's plain enough!" "Well," stammered the coward, whose lips were still white with fear; "it is all right, is it not?" "All right!" cried Grenits, "no, it's all wrong. Don't you see that the remnant of the herd will get clear away? Come! forward! They are getting away, I tell you, we must get after them and not let a single head escape! Forward, boys, forward!" The other young men, who were just as much vexed as was Grenits at the unsatisfactory result of their hunt, rushed into the pass together rifle in hand. Mokesuep only, very prudently remained behind, not even could the Wedono get him to follow by crying out to him, "Come! quick, sir." Our hero merely shook his head and stood looking after his companions until they disappeared out of his sight. Then throwing his rifle over his shoulder he took the road to Banjoe Pahit as he muttered to himself: "No doubt, that's all very well; but I shall take precious good care not to come into contact with that filthy vermin. No, no, I shall go and have a chat with the wife of Verstork's cook--who knows what I may manage to do in that quarter! A nice little woman that! A devilish sly dog that Controller; what fun if I could get some shooting over his preserves!" Thus mumbling to himself he walked along and had gained the upper entrance to the Djoerang Pringapoes. From that eminence he could command a fine extensive view over the broad rice-fields which rose in terraces on the hill-slopes, and whose surfaces, flooded with water at that time of the year, lay glistening in the bright sunshine like so many polished mirrors. It was as yet very early--scarcely half past seven o'clock. Mokesuep stood there looking all around him, not indeed in admiration of the beauties of nature; for a creature of his stamp could have no eye for that kind of thing; but gazing about anxiously and more than half frightened at the silence and solitude in which he now found himself after the riot and confusion down in the ravine. In the far distance he could still distinguish the shouts of the hunters and could now and then hear a shot fired by them at the retreating game; but the noise of the hunt grew fainter and fainter, and as it gradually died away in the depths of the Djoerang, not another sound was heard round about. This sudden stillness had something very disquieting about it. Mokesuep half wished that some human being would appear to share the solitude with him, and yet, on the other hand, he was wholly afraid of meeting with some of the natives. He had heard dreadful tales of the robbers by which some of the inland parts of Java were infested and rendered unsafe; and though he had a rifle slung from his shoulder which might have inspired any other man with confidence, he was of far too cowardly a nature to put any trust in his weapon. He stepped along slowly and cautiously, and presently, at the foot of a small range of hills lying to the northward and which formed a continuation of the chain of mountains in which the Djoerang Pringapoes was situated, he discovered a solitary hut, partly hidden away in the thick underwood which grew around it. Close by a couple of oxen were grazing by the side of a pathway. This little road ran past the hut to the north-west, and winded along the low dykes of the rice-fields. As Mokesuep traced the pathway in its course over the hill-slopes, he suddenly perceived a human figure evidently making for the hut. It was the form of a woman, of that there could be no doubt. Mokesuep breathed freely again; in the presence of a woman, especially if that woman happened to "be a native, he felt brave enough; so he determined to wait for her, to try and enter into conversation and to walk pleasantly and sociably together to Banjoe Pahit. The approaching form, standing out boldly over the flooded rice-fields and reflected in their shining surface grew more and more distinct with every moment. "By Jove," muttered Mokesuep, after having watched her for awhile, "by Jove, what a pretty girl! All the better for me--I shall have a charming walk with that dear little thing!" He was, however, altogether out in his reckoning. When the girl got close to the hut, she took a side path which ran in a south-easterly direction downwards amongst the rice-terraces, and which appeared to lead to Kaligaweh. Great was Mokesuep's disappointment at seeing this, and he was about to call out to her. Just then a Javanese came out of the hut and began beckoning to the girl. "By heaven!" muttered Mokesuep, "that is Singomengolo, the opium spy. What in the world is he doing here?" And immediately he concealed himself behind some bushes which were growing by the wayside. It was indeed Singomengolo, the wretch whom the evening before we saw leaving Kaligaweh and riding to the lonely hut. Again and again, he beckoned to the girl; but as she did not heed him, he cried out: "Dalima!" At this call the girl turned for an instant. Yes, it was pretty little Dalima, the baboe in the family of Mrs. van Gulpendam. She stopped for a moment, while her features showed undisguised terror as she recognised the notorious opium-hunter, whom she knew well by sight. She did not, however, stop for more than a single instant, and then sped on again as fast as she could. "Dalima!" again cried Singomengolo, "Dalima, where are you hurrying to?" "I am going to Kaligaweh," said the girl in a nervous tone of voice. "Well, just come here for a moment," continued Singo. "No, no," she replied, "I have not an instant to spare, I must get to my father as quickly as I possibly can," and again she sped on her way. "Come here, I say," cried Singomengolo, "I have something to tell you about your father!" "Oh, yes, I know," rejoined the young girl, "they told me father is very ill--that is why I am in such a hurry." "You are wrong," cried Singo, "your father is not ill--it is something much worse than that." The girl stopped at once: "Worse than that?" she asked, "tell me, is he dead?" "No--much worse!" "By Allah--what is it?" "Come here," said Singo, "and I will tell you. There are things, you know, that one cannot shout out by the wayside." This brought Dalima to his side. As she walked up to him, she had to pass the bushes behind which Mokesuep was lying concealed--in fact, in passing she brushed by them. As usual Dalima was very neatly dressed. Round her waist she wore a gaily coloured sarong, her bodice was of pink cotton, and over her shoulders was folded a red kerchief, from one of the points of which dangled a bunch of keys. She had a double melattie flower in her thick heavy tresses, which, in the midst of that ebon-black mass of hair, looked like a pretty white rose. Just then her face was covered with a rich flush caused partly by the exertion of her long walk, partly by the pleasant coolness of the morning air; but this rich colour added animation to her pretty features, and blended most harmoniously with the deep bronze of her complexion. The experienced eye of the concealed fiscal functionary did not allow a single one of these charms to escape it. Yes, there were certain cases in which Mokesuep was by no means insensible to the beautiful, though its contemplation generally awakened evil passions in his breast; and not unfrequently led to criminal designs. What might have happened had he walked alone with Dalima to Banjoe Pahit, who can tell. For the present the appearance of Singomengolo forced him to remain in hiding. When the girl had come close to the hut, she asked again: "What is the matter? tell me!" "Come in with me," replied the opium-spy, "and I will let you know why your father has been taken into custody." As he said these words, Dalima suddenly uttered a loud shriek. Singomengolo thought, of course, that the news he had told her and his rough manner of conveying it, had wrung that cry from the young girl; but Dalima had turned round abruptly and was trying to run away as fast as her feet would carry her. The fact is, she had, through the half open door of the hut seen the odious face of Lim Ho gazing at her with eyes dilated with passion. That sight made the poor girl turn and dart away; but she had hardly gone a few yards before Singomengolo overtook her, and grasping her wrists, tried, by main force, to drag her along with him into the hut. Dalima resisted with all her might. She screamed for help, she kicked at her captor and tried to bite the hands with which he held her arms tightly clasped. In fact she fought as desperately as a wild cat, determined to resist and defend herself to the very last. She was in hopes also that her cries might possibly be heard, for she was under the impression that just now she had seen a European on the pathway which crossed the road she was taking. Any other man but Mokesuep would have flown to the rescue of the poor child; who knows to what excess of heroism even he might have allowed himself to be carried--not indeed out of any feeling of kindly sympathy or from any chivalrous promptings; but in the hope of perhaps--Yes--in such a mind as his the foulest thoughts will spring even as venomous toad-stools on an unclean soil. But--he also had caught sight of Lim Ho--he had noticed that face burning with ignoble passion. At a glance he understood what was going on, and, at the same time, he resolved to keep perfectly quiet in order that he might reap the fullest advantage out of the situation. Lim Ho's father was an enormously wealthy man, and when the safety or reputation of his son was concerned he would not mind coming down handsomely--a couple of thousand guilders or so were nothing to a man of that kind. Poor little Dalima! In utter despair she had flung herself to the ground, most heartrending were her shrieks of agony, help! help! but it was all in vain. The mean wretch who might, by merely raising his hand so to speak, have set her free, kept himself snugly concealed. He looked upon the struggle with cynical eye, nay was actually gloating with satisfaction at the glimpses which now and then he caught of the charms, which, in the violence of her resistance, Dalima could not always keep concealed. This went on for some little time, and Singomengolo began to feel that it was impossible for him to drag her along any further without assistance from Lim Ho. He called to the Chinaman to come to his aid. The latter at once obeyed the call, came out of the hut, and tried to clasp the girl in his arms and thus carry her along. But when, in that attempt, he got a very painful bite in the ear, the wretch became mad with fury. He laid hold of the mass of hair which in the struggle had become loosened, and was now quite unrolled, and twisting his hand into the heavy tresses while Singomengolo still held the girl's wrists, he dragged her by main force into the hut. For a considerable time after that the fearful shrieks "Help! help! toean!" were still heard; but gradually they grew fainter and fainter until at length they ceased altogether. In the very far distance rifle shots still resounded; but even if Dalima could have heard them in the excitement of the struggle, she must have understood that her voice could not possibly reach so far, and that, in any case, if help did come, it must come too late. How did Dalima happen to be on the fatal spot at that early hour? The reader may remember how that, after having accomplished his heroic deed in the dessa Kaligaweh, Singomengolo had ridden away and had taken the direction of the lonely hut in the hill-country; and how, on his arrival, he had sent the man who lived there as his messenger to Santjoemeh. This man had two commissions to execute. In the first place he was told to go and give into Lim Ho's own hands a little note with which Singo had entrusted him, and, after having done that, he was to call at the Residence and was to tell baboe Dalima that her father Setrosmito had suddenly been taken dangerously ill and that he was most anxious to see her. The messenger, who was a very shrewd and clever fellow, had at once jumped on the back of one of those small and ugly, but well-nigh indefatigable Javanese ponies, whose muscles of steel seem never to tire and carry them in a surprisingly short space of time over vast distances. It was about eleven o'clock when he reached the stately mansion of babah Lim Yang Bing. He was very lucky, for he was not kept waiting a single instant, as Lim Ho happened to be within at the time. The son of the rich opium farmer lay reclining luxuriously upon a splendid divan, his long Chinese pipestem was between his lips and by his side on a small table stood a cup of arrack. He was listening in a kind of rapture to two of his servants, who, like himself, were children of the Celestial Empire. These fellows seated on low ivory stools were twanging on a kind of two-stringed fiddle or guitar, and were drawing tones out of their instruments which would not only have horrified a Vieuxtemps or a Paganini, but would have instantly dispersed even a meeting of tom-cats who, in the matter of harmony, are not usually reckoned to be exacting. Lim Ho no sooner caught sight of Singomengolo's emissary, than he jumped up from the couch, grasped the letter which the man held out to him, and eagerly scanned the very few words it contained. It was a document brief and laconic as a telegram but, to Lim Ho, of the deepest significance. The words it contained were only these: "Everything ready, be here by seven in the morning." The Chinaman pulled out his watch, he looked at the time while he asked the messenger what the weather was like. "Bright moonlight, babah," was the man's reply. Lim Ho then dismissed him, flinging him a rix-dollar, and telling him to be specially careful how he discharged his second commission. He ordered him to come and report the result to him, then he ordered his horse to be saddled and waited. The man did not find his second task quite such an easy one to perform as the former. The Resident van Gulpendam and his wife were seated with some visitors at the usual card-tables; but the daughter of the house had already retired to her own room, and had given her baboe leave to go to bed without waiting up any longer. The fellow found it therefore necessary to go to the back of the premises, and at length he contrived to get one of the servants to go and rouse Dalima. The young girl was terribly shocked at hearing the dreadful tidings of her father, whom the rascal represented as being in a dying state. She at once rushed into the pandoppo and entered the bedroom of her young mistress who, fortunately, had not yet retired to rest. "Nana, give me leave!" she cried, in the greatest agitation, as soon as she had opened the door. "Come," said Anna, "what is the matter with you? do try and be calm." The young lady had perceived at once that there was something very wrong, and tried to quiet her servant's excitement by herself remaining perfectly cool and self-possessed. Thereupon Dalima told her that a man had just arrived from Kaligaweh with a message from her father who was lying at death's door, and who wished, for the last time perhaps, to see his daughter. "Oh, Nana," begged the poor girl, "do try and get me leave to go home!" "But, Dalima," objected Anna, "what is the time?" And looking at a handsome clock on a console close by, she continued, "Why it is close upon midnight!--It is out of the question--You could not possibly go out in the dark!" "Oh!" cried Dalima, in pleading tones, "Nana knows that I am very brave. I know the way perfectly. I shall take the short cut over the hills; by that road I shall get to Kaligaweh without meeting anybody." "That is just it," rejoined Anna; "it is that very solitude that I am most frightened at. You might come across a tiger or a wild boar." "Why, Nana! there are no tigers anywhere in the neighbourhood; if there were we must have heard of them, and as for boars, I am not the least bit afraid of them, they always run away if they possibly can. Do pray, dearest Nana, get me leave to go. I promise you that by to-morrow night I shall be back again." "I don't at all like the idea of it, Dalima. What will mamma say?" "Oh, Nana dear," cried the baboe, in despair, "do pray go and try--do pray go and ask madam!" "She is quite sure to refuse," said Anna. "Why should she?" persisted the girl. "She will be just as much afraid as I am that in the darkness of the night some accident may happen to you. How can you possibly dare to undertake such a journey, Dalima?" "My father is dying--he wants to see me!" cried Dalima. "That is quite enough to give me courage for anything, Miss Anna. I would go to Kaligaweh even if I knew that the road was full of ghosts--yes, if there were a ghost behind every tree! Yet, I am much more frightened of ghosts than of beasts or of men. Nana, I beg and pray--do go and ask your mother!" "Well," said the tender-hearted young girl, "I will go and try; but mind you, I know it will not be of the slightest use." "Thank you, Nana, thank you." Thereupon Miss Anna rose from the divan upon which she had taken a seat after she had admitted Dalima. She thrust her dainty little feet into a pair of slippers she had carelessly thrown off. The young girl was already partially undressed, and had been reclining in only her sarong and kabaai; but she very soon threw about her a richly embroidered morning gown, with a few turns of her dexterous hand she twisted the rich mass of her loose-hanging hair into a knot, and ran to the front-gallery in which her parents and the other card-players were still engaged in their game. To her great surprise fair Laurentia made no difficulty at all, and at once acceded to her daughter's request, stipulating only that, before setting out, Dalima should finish some needle-work which she had given her to do and which she particularly wished to have ready by the morning. Oh, no! Mrs. van Gulpendam had no objection whatever to Dalima's going to Kaligaweh; on the contrary, she thought it very praiseworthy in the girl that she showed so much devotion to her parents. A honey-sweet smile hovered on her lips as she gave her gracious permission, and no one--least of all her pure and innocent daughter--could have guessed at the awful abyss of wickedness which lurked behind that sunny smile. Highly pleased with the result of her attempt, Anna hastened with her good news to Dalima, and in the kindness of her heart she gave up a considerable portion of her night's rest to assist her baboe in getting through her task of needle-work. It is a dreadful thing to have to say; but Laurentia had not made that stipulation about finishing the work without an object. Her object was to delay Dalima's departure, so that she might not reach the hut in the middle of the night, and, in the darkness, perhaps pass it unobserved. Diligently assisted by her mistress, the baboe was able to set out on her journey about three o'clock in the morning. After having affectionately taken leave, Dalima left the premises by the back-way through a small garden gate, of which Anna had procured her the key. This gate took her straight into the road which led over the hills to Kaligaweh. The moon was shining brightly in the heavens, and thus the girl was able to walk along rapidly, and soon she lost sight of Santjoemeh while not a single thought of danger crossed her brain. Lim Ho had been informed by Singomengolo's messenger that the pretty baboe had received the news of her father's illness--the reader however knows that a far different calamity had befallen Setrosmito--so he said in a highly satisfied tone: "That is all right. You must be tired out, and I don't suppose you care to return to your hut to-night? Eh?" "No, babah," was the man's answer. "Very well, my people will show you a bedroom, you can go and have a rest. To-morrow I will pay you for your service." As soon as the fellow had disappeared, Lim Ho consulted his watch. "Nearly one o'clock," he muttered to himself, and then aloud he added: "Than Loa, is the horse ready saddled?" The servant replied with a couple of Chinese words, whereupon Lim Ho rose. He put on a kind of cap without peak, in shape not at all unlike a Scotch bonnet, then he snatched up a riding-whip and leaped into the saddle. "Don't go to sleep--keep good watch--mind," he cried to his servant as he rode off, and setting spurs to his horse he was soon out of sight. The main road which he took was a much longer one than the narrow foot-path which Dalima had chosen; but by starting thus early he knew he could easily get before her. He did not know that before she could set off to her father's bedside the poor girl would have a good deal of sewing to do, and he thought therefore that he had to hurry in order to be in time at the hut. But his horse was a fine animal of Persian breed, and he felt confident that it would bring him to the spot before Dalima could possibly reach it. It was about half-past three when he dismounted and joined Singomengolo, whom he found waiting for him. The pair of villains sat down to consult about the best way of carrying out their infamous attempt. During this consultation Lim Ho repeatedly showed signs of impatience at Dalima's unexpected delay. They were still talking together when the day began to dawn, and presently the sun rose, when, of a sudden, a dreadful outburst was heard in the far distance--a noise was heard of yelling, of rattling, of banging--it seemed as if the world was coming to an end. Lim Ho started up in terror from the mat upon which he was seated by the side of the opium spy. "What on earth may that be?" he cried. "Oh," replied Singomengolo as calmly as possible, "that is nothing at all--only the toean Controller of Banjoe Pahit going on a pig-hunt--the dessa folk of that place and of Kaligaweh are beginning to beat up the game." "How do you know that?" asked Lim Ho. "I was at Kaligaweh yesterday, and there I met the Controller and the company he has with him; they came to make the necessary arrangements for the day's hunting." "You were at Kaligaweh?" asked Lim Ho. "Of course I was, babah," replied Singo quietly. "I was there," he continued with a nasty smirk, "to catch old Setrosmito at opium-smuggling." "Aye, aye," said Lim Ho, "that's true, I know now." Lim Ho pronounced these words in a tone of voice which showed that to him the infamous plot whereby a victim had been removed out of his father's way, was the most trifling incident in the world, a bagatelle which had wholly escaped his memory. "And did you succeed in finding opium?" "Of course I did," replied Singomengolo, "you know well enough, babah, that I always succeed when it suits me to try." "Yes, yes," said Lim Ho in a patronising way, "you are a clever fellow, there is no doubt about that. Dalima's father has, I suppose, been got rid of at least for a few weeks?" "Yes, for a longer time than a few weeks," replied Singo very significantly. "How so? Has anything else happened then?" "Setrosmito has run amokh and has killed a countryman of yours outright, and severely wounded a policeman. It was precious nearly all up with me too; but I managed to slip away from him in the very nick of time." "Good! good!" said Lim Ho, gleefully rubbing his hands together. "So that?" he continued. "So that," remarked Singomengolo, "Dalima's father, if they don't hang him, will be at the very least imprisoned for life." "You know," said Lim Ho, "that was wonderfully cleverly managed. But what's up now?" In the distance a well sustained rifle-fire was heard, in fact the chase had begun. "It is only the gentlemen in the Djoerang Pringapoes. They are firing at the wild-pigs I suppose. Allah prosper them!" "But," said Lim Ho, "may not those white fellows get into our way, the ravine, you know, is not so very far off." "The toeans," said Singo, "are a great deal too much engrossed in their sport to take any notice of what we are about. For myself, I much prefer to hear them blazing away yonder to their heart's content in the Djoerang Pringapoes, than to know that they are sitting quill-driving in their offices. Your white man with a pen in his hand is a much more formidable creature, and is much more formidably armed too, than when he handles a rifle." Thus they sat talking and listening to what was going on beneath them in the Djoerang, while time was rapidly passing away. "But Dalima does not seem to be coming," signed Lim Ho, with impatience. "Yes, she is," said Singo, "yonder on that path between the rice-fields I see some one--that must be she." "Look, look!" cried Lim Ho, in consternation, "there from the ravine comes a white man--now we have lost our chance." Singomengolo turned his eyes in the direction which Lim Ho indicated, and, as he looked, he muttered a deep curse; he saw at once that the Chinaman had not been mistaken. Yet, he could not make out at all who it could be so quietly making his way towards the hut. He was one of the shooting party, there could be no doubt about that, for he carried a rifle and came from the direction of the Djoerang. And that wretched mar-plot must come right across Dalima's path, just as she was coming in the other direction! Everything had been so carefully planned--and now--that brute! It was enough to drive a fellow mad! But the next moment Lim Ho cried out joyously: "By Jove, it is toean Mouse-head that is coming along there. I know him perfectly well. Now I don't mind a bit. I know him. You may call the baboe as much as you like, there is no danger. I will square matters easily enough with that fellow yonder!" Lim Ho had recognised our friend Mokesuep. As the reader has been told, that gentleman used familiarly to be called by almost everyone in Santjoemeh, "Muizenkop," and this nickname some wags had translated into Javanese. Thus he went by the name of Kapala tikoes, or the Mouse-head. Singomengolo also recognised the exciseman of Santjoemeh, and now he no longer felt much apprehension that his detestable plot would be frustrated. "A mere matter of money," said he to the Chinaman, with a significant smile. As Dalima came to the crossway, and was about to enter the path which ran down to Kaligaweh, the opium-spy had left the hut, and was preparing to call to her to stop, when he saw the European hastily conceal himself behind the clump of bushes by the roadside. This move on the part of Mokesuep completely reassured the accomplices, and their wicked plot was crowned with the success with which the reader has already been made acquainted. Even had Mokesuep felt any inclination to present himself in the character of rescuer, that impulse was wholly extinguished the moment Lim Ho appeared upon the scene. The wretched coward only hid himself more closely behind his screen of leaves as he muttered: "By Jove, dame Fortune is playing into my hand--no one but an ass would refuse so fair an offer." Meanwhile the despairing cries of poor little Dalima were gradually dying away as her strength began to fail, and as she became utterly exhausted. "Help, help! toean, help!" was the last piercing shriek which re-echoed in that solitude. The only response, alas! was the well-sustained rifle-fire in the distance. CHAPTER XIX. HELP! HELP! But yet, poor Dalima's shrieks and wild cries for help had been heard. That part of the mountain cleft, into which the hunters had plunged in pursuit of the retreating wild boars, did not extend very far, it was not longer than about a thousand yards; but the bottom of the ravine was just there exceedingly winding, and, as it followed the tortuous course of the small stream Banjoe Pahit, it was strewn all over with huge fragments of stone, while the dark-grey walls of volcanic trachyte towered up almost perpendicularly to the height of more than fifty or sixty yards. In that narrow pass the scene of confusion was utterly indescribable. The grunting and squealing of the maddened herd of swine, the yelling and rattling of the beaters who, on seeing the animals charge back, had resumed their unearthly noise, the almost incessant crashing of the fire from the breech-loading rifles--all these sounds, echoing and re-echoing within that narrow rock-bound gorge, made a din which was absolutely deafening. The hunted animals now desperate and infuriated, madly charged at the line of native beaters, who seemed to them less formidable than their European foes. For a few moments the dessa folk attempted to make a stand, and thrusting about furiously with their lances, they made some ineffectual efforts to turn the beasts back again into the ravine. But they very soon had to give way before the charge of the formidable tusks, and took to their heels altogether as soon as the rifle bullets began to screech over their heads. Those cylindero-conical projectiles from the new-fashioned rifles make such a horrid screaming as they speed overhead on their deadly errand, that it is no wonder they demoralised the poor natives altogether. In less than no time the line of beaters had vanished before the charge of the boars, as the mountain mist before the morning sun. The greater part of the Javanese managed to swarm up the high rocky peaks, others darted up the trees; but not a single one ventured to remain within reach of the sharp tusks of the wild boars. The animals were however greatly diminished in numbers and not very many of them succeeded, under the incessant rifle-fire, in getting clear of the pass. Upward of fifteen carcases lay stretched motionless on the ground; but a far greater number had received wounds more or less severe; which, however, in that climate were sure to prove fatal. "Forward, boys, forward!" cried Verstork, excited by the success they had gained; "forward, we must not let a single one of that mischievous brood escape!" That, however, was much more easily said than done. The hunters continued to press the retreating game, and contrived to fire many a shot and to bring down many a victim; but the pigs were uncommonly fleet of foot and now that the chain of beaters was broken and there was nothing to stop them, they were soon lost to sight amid the inextricable tangle of shrubs, tree-trunks, and boulders which encumbered the bottom of the ravine. Our European friends did their very utmost to keep up with the game; but it was a task which would have required nothing less than the nimbleness and dexterity of an orang-outang to accomplish, perhaps even that animal might have had to give up the pursuit. Yes, there they stood at length, dead beat, their clothes in tatters, their hands torn by the thorns through which in the heat of the excitement they had forced their way, in one word, completely pumped out and exhausted, there they stood panting and gasping for breath. At length Verstork managed somewhat to recover his wind, and shouted to his friends to rally them. "Where is Grashuis?" asked the Controller, looking around him. "And where is Grenits?" van Rheijn managed to gasp out. They were nowhere to be seen, and their friends were beginning to feel anxious about them, when a couple of rifle-shots in the distance informed the hunters that the two missing men were still obstinately bent on continuing the pursuit. "That will never do," said Verstork, "we must go after them, one can never tell what may happen and what need there may be of assistance. But," continued he, "can any of you tell me where the shots came from?" Every hand was raised at once; but they unfortunately all pointed in different directions. Had there been hands enough they would, no doubt, have indicated every point in the compass. "There," said one. "No, no, there," cried another. "You are wrong," said a third, "they came from this side." "That's a confounded nuisance," said Verstork much perplexed, "the shots took me quite by surprise and I really don't know from what direction they came. We must wait a bit, perhaps they will fire again." "I am precious glad of it," said van Beneden, "now we can sit down and rest a bit on that rock yonder. I am regularly fagged out." He had not, however, a very long rest, for barely ten minutes had elapsed before another shot was heard, and this was followed almost immediately after by a second discharge. This time the reports were evidently further off than before; but there was no mistake about the direction from whence they came. "Come gentlemen," cried Verstork, as he snatched up his rifle again, "come, gentlemen, this way!" "Might we not wait a few minutes longer?" pleaded van Beneden, "I am dead tired." "Meanwhile," said the Wedono, as he pointed to the smooth trunk of a komessoe tree, "I shall get up into that tree. Perhaps I may catch sight of them." The Javanese dessa-chief was a nimble young fellow, and using his hands and feet he soon was in the top. "Can you see anything, Wedono?" cried Verstork. "No, nothing yet, kandjeng toean," was the man's reply. "But--wait a bit--Yes, there they are yonder--both of them. They are clambering along the side of the ravine still after the pigs. But it is a good way off!" "Come, gentlemen," said the Controller, "it won't do to sit here, we must be off at once, we must try and get up to them." Meanwhile Leendert Grashuis and Theodoor Grenits had been running on ahead and were pursuing with the indomitable energy and hot enthusiasm of youth, a small family of pigs consisting of one gigantic boar, a sow and four young ones. Helter skelter they rushed on, pursuers and pursued, over and under rocks, over and right through thorny bushes, sometimes by the side of the small stream, sometimes in the water in which the animals would plunge and disappear for a moment in the whirling eddies, and then reappear again vigorously swimming and struggling. Now and then, as the beasts were scrambling up the face of a rock, the two hunters would catch a momentary glimpse of their prey. Then they would try to steady themselves in order to get a fair shot; but before they could pull the trigger, the beasts had again disappeared among the stones and bushes, and then after them again in spite of the heat and fatigue. This continued for a while until the old boar led his party up the steep slope of the ravine wall, evidently with the view of gaining the open field at the top along which they could fly with greater speed. But, alas for them! that move on the part of their leader gave the rifles fair play. As soon as the animals began to ascend they became visible among the stunted grass which grew on the slope, and two shots resounded almost simultaneously. One of the little ones, mortally wounded, rolled down the slope and the old sow flew madly to its assistance. But the pains the poor animal took to get its young on its legs again and to push it along were all in vain, her instinct seemed to tell her that she must hurry back along with the others in order to escape from the deadly bullets. A moment or two afterwards, another young one lost its footing and began to stumble down the slope. The mother was on the spot again and trying to help it along. It was a touching sight indeed to see that mother defending and taking care of her little one, to see how she strove to push it along very gently yet very strongly too with her pointed snout, uttering the while the most loving and encouraging grunts. But hunters have no bowels of mercy. Scarcely had the pair proceeded a few yards before the two rifles cracked again, and sow and young one rolled to the very bottom of the ravine. As she fell she glared defiance at her enemies, while she kept her eye still fixed on her offspring and uttered a sharp squeal of warning to her mate above. At that moment a third shot was fired and the third little pig came rolling down to the very feet of the hunters. The boar thereupon turned to bay uttering the most fearful grunts, turning up his bristles and drawing back his lips so as to show not only his formidable tusks but also the teeth which were white as ivory and sharp as chisels. Another shot was fired but missed and, when the smoke of the powder had cleared away, the boar and the only young one which was left had disappeared round a corner. But Grenits and Grashuis did not for a moment think of leaving him to escape, and they at once proceeded to clamber up the steep rock in pursuit. They knew that to cut off the boar's retreat they must gain the top before him. But they found it no child's play. They kept on climbing with the most dogged determination; but they found the rocky slope, upon which even the split hoof of a wild boar could hardly keep a precarious foothold, a very dangerous path for a foot encased in a European boot. At length, after almost superhuman efforts, they had managed to clamber up to the top and, as they panted for breath, they anxiously looked around; but could discover not a vestige of the animals they had so painfully pursued. They had no doubt gained the top of the rock before them and had disappeared in the tangled underwood which covered the plain. To hunt any further for the fugitives would be sheer waste of time and of strength. Completely fagged out with their exertions, the two friends were about to throw themselves down on the grass under the shadow of some low bushes, when suddenly Grenits uttered a sharp cry. He found himself face to face with the terrible wild boar. The animal, on gaining the top of the rock with its young one, had, likewise exhausted, stretched itself out to rest, thinking it had shaken off the pursuit of its enemies. Now, however, it fancied that it was attacked in its very lair, and too weary to attempt to escape, it turned to bay and, as such animals will do, when driven to fury, at once assumed the offensive. Grenits had but just time to jump aside and to bring his rifle into a position of defence. The boar nimbly avoided the bayonet thrust which Theodoor aimed at it, and then furiously turning upon his foe, he charged. It was a very fortunate thing for Grenits that his legs were encased in stout leather gaiters or else the sharp ripping tusk would have inflicted a terrible wound. But though the leather resisted the blow, yet such was the fury of the attack that Grenits lost his balance, fell backward, and for a second was in the most deadly peril. Had he been alone, the furious beast would undoubtedly have flung itself upon him and in that defenceless position he must have been ripped open in an instant. Already the boar was darting at his fallen foe. For an instant Theodoor shuddered as he saw his bloodshot eye and felt the hot breath of the monster in his face. Then he closed his eyes and awaited the fatal thrust. But at that moment the beast uttered a wild grunt of rage and turned away from Grenits to face another opponent. All this, though it takes some time to tell, had passed with the rapidity of lightning; but short though the time was, yet Leendert Grashuis had been able to shove a cartridge into the breech of his gun and to bring his sword-bayonet to the charge. He had no chance of firing however, for the shot would have been much more likely to injure his prostrate friend than to kill the boar. Not the fraction of a second was to be lost if he would save Grenits' life. Theodoor, as we have seen, was already lying helpless on the ground and the next instant must have been fatal. Then with all his might Grashuis drove his bayonet at the infuriated creature. The thrust caused a painful wound but glanced off on the right shoulder blade, while the monster at once turned to confront this fresh assailant The boar then tried to deal Grashuis a blow with its prominent tusks, but was caught on the bayonet. The force of the blow was such that the weapon bent like a hoop and was driven up to the muzzle into the boar's throat. For an instant Leendert thought of drawing his weapon back; but at once seeing the impossibility of doing so he pulled the trigger and the animal received the entire charge full in the head. With a terrific bound it sprang back tearing the rifle out of Grashuis' hands, then it turned round once or twice and fell down twitching convulsively in the throes of death. A few seconds afterwards, all was over. All this had passed so quickly that the two friends scarcely realised what had happened. They stood for a second or two gazing at the death-struggle as if they were stunned and dazed; but presently the truth dawned upon them, and they began to understand how dreadful was the peril from which they had so narrowly escaped. Then they embraced and congratulated one another most heartily, Theodoor Grenits especially felt that he had escaped death as by a miracle. After the first excitement had somewhat abated, human infirmity began to make itself felt. The wild pursuit of the game, the oppressive heat, the painful clambering up and along the ravine wall, and last but not least, the desperate hand to hand struggle, which followed this exertion, had exhausted our two friends so utterly and so completely, that they could no longer keep their feet, but flung themselves full length upon the grass. Thus they lay, panting and striving to recover their breath, when, after the lapse of a few minutes, Grenits thought that in the bushes close by he caught a glimpse of the last little pig that had escaped the butchery. Without taking the trouble to rise, he slipped a cartridge into his breech-loader, put his weapon to his shoulder and fired in the direction where he had fancied he had seen the little beast disappear in the bushes. The echo of the report reverberated grandly through the ravine like a clap of thunder--on and on rolled the stately sound, gradually growing fainter and fainter, until at length it died away softly rumbling in the far distance. But the sound had not quite passed away, when Grashuis, as if suddenly moved by some spring, raised himself upon his elbow: "Did you hear that?" asked he, in a tone almost of alarm. "Hear what?" said Grenits, "the report of my rifle--Of course I heard it." "No, no," said the other, "I fancied I heard a human voice just now! Listen." Yes, yonder in the far distance, but yet audibly and distinctly was heard the cry: "Help! Help! Help!" "By heaven!" cried Grenits, jumping up, "that's a woman's voice!" "Help! help! toean!" "A woman's voice," repeated Grashuis, "and crying out for help! Listen again." "Help! help! toean!" "I can see no other toeans besides ourselves. Our comrades are far away in the ravine--and the voice does not come from that direction at all," continued Grashuis. "But," said Grenits, as he looked all around, "I can see nothing anywhere, Leendert!" "No more can I," replied the other. "The reflection from the water on those rice-fields dazzles me painfully." "Look yonder--I fancy I can see a hut--surely the cry must have come from there," said Grashuis. Just then the cry was heard again, but much more faintly. "Help! help! toean!" "That is a woman's voice," repeated Grenits, "she is crying to us for help." "But," said Grashuis, "what toeans can she be calling to?" "What is that to me?" exclaimed Grenits. "Come along, some poor thing is calling for help. Come along, I don't feel a bit tired now." Before they hastened away, the two friends cast a look at the ravine, out of which they had clambered a short time before--and there they caught sight of their comrades who were following them, and who were, in their turn, preparing to gain the summit of the rock. Grenits thereupon fired off his gun, in order to attract their attention, and when he saw that he had succeeded, he called to them, at the top of his voice, while he stretched out his arm towards the west: "There, there!" he cried. Then both hurried away. "What did Theodoor say?" asked Verstork. "Could you make it out?" "Not a word," replied van Nerekool, "he was much too far off; but something strange seems to have happened." "Come let us hurry on," said Verstork. The little party then began to toil up the steep. They were not, however, fired by the same enthusiasm which had inspired their friends, and thus they took thrice as long to accomplish the ascent. When they at length reached the summit, they could, in the distance, see Grenits and Grashuis running at the top of their speed between the rice-fields. The latter turned for an instant and waved his arm as if to urge his comrades to greater speed. "Help! help! toean!" was heard again, but this time the cry was so faint as to be barely audible. The two European gentlemen had, however, by this time, got much nearer to the hut. "Come on, come on," shouted Grenits, hoping that he would urge his friends to greater speed. "Are you sure," asked Grashuis, "that we are going in the right direction? It appears to me as if we were getting further away from the sound." But they had no time for considering the matter, for, at that moment a female form was seen rushing from the hut and running to meet them. "Help, toean, help!" she cried, as she fell down at their feet. It was a Javanese girl, whom neither Grenits nor his friend recognised. With dishevelled hair and stained with blood, she rolled on the grass as she covered her face with both hands. "Help, toean, help," she moaned. Astounded by the strange and unexpected apparition, the two hunters stood looking at the poor girl before them. In their amazement they knew not what to do. Grenits, however, who could not bear to see a human being thus grovelling at his feet, took hold of the girl's arm and tried to raise her from the ground; but she shook off his hand. "I am ashamed," she muttered, as she tried to cast the thick masses of hair over her bosom. Just then a man, a Javanese, came darting out of the hut, and seeing the poor girl he ran up to her at once. With a rough grasp he laid hold of her arm, and strove to pull her up. "Ah!" she exclaimed; then, as she recognised the fellow, she tore herself away from him with a look of the utmost terror. "Help, toean, toean, help!" she begged, turning again to the two European gentlemen. "Let go that woman's arm!" shouted Grenits, boiling with rage. "What have you got to do with her?" asked Grashuis, who now recognised Singomengolo. "She has been smuggling opium," replied Singo, and turning to the girl he hissed in a threatening tone, "Come along, will you, or else--" "Take pity on me, gentlemen, take pity on me!" cried the wretched woman. "Come along, will you!" shouted Singomengolo, furiously, as he tried by main force to drag her away. "Let go that woman, I say--or else I'll smash your skull in!" shouted Grenits, raising the butt of his rifle. Meanwhile Grashuis had seized Singomengolo round the waist and was attempting to drag him backward. "I am a bandoelan," said the Javanese spy, somewhat haughtily; "I am a bandoelan; you gentlemen will be sorry for having threatened me and laid hands upon me." And, turning to the woman, he said again, "Come along!" "Once again, let her go," cried Grenits, and this time in a tone of voice which plainly showed that he would stand no nonsense and was in deadly earnest. Indeed he was on the point of bringing down the butt of his gun crash upon the skull of the Chinaman, when he felt someone grasping his arm from behind and heard a voice whispering in his ear: "Take care Theodoor, take care, it is a dangerous thing to meddle with those opium fellows." Theodoor looked round, and, to his great surprise, he saw that it was Mokesuep who thus warned him. "You, Muizenkop!" cried he. "Where have you sprung from?" "I lost my way," was the reply. "But for heaven's sake keep cool or you will get yourself into trouble." "What do I care," shouted Grenits; "let go my arm, I will soon settle the matter with that confounded opium spy!" Singomengolo stood there before him with an indescribable look of ferocious malice on his evil countenance. He had laid his hand on the hilt of his kris and, proud and impetuous as he naturally was, he would undoubtedly have answered any act of violence with a stab of his knife, if indeed the first blow had not laid him senseless. For a moment he stood glaring at the European with bold and glittering eye. Then suddenly he seemed to change his mind. He released the girl's arm, for, across the rice fields, he now saw another group advancing rapidly. In this group his quick sight had at once recognised not only the Controller of Banjoe Pahit but also the wedono of the district, and at the sight his sallow face grew pale. "What's all this about?" asked Verstork as he came up to the spot. "That wretched woman has been smuggling opium, Kandjeng toean," replied Singomengolo. "That woman?" "But--" cried van Nerekool, in amazement. "But, it is Dalima!" "Dalima?" "Yes Dalima, the baboe of the Resident." "Good," said van Rheijn, with a laugh. "Our Resident keeps a baboe--a stock of feeding bottles also--no doubt!" Van Nerekool turned crimson. He had not wished to say, "the baboe of the Resident's daughter." Verstork removed one of the girl's hands from her face. "Yes--it is indeed Dalima! And you say that she has smuggled opium?" he continued, turning to Singomengolo. He made a sign to one of the wedono's servants, who at once gave the young girl a shawl, into which she hastily wrapped herself. "Most assuredly," replied the bandoelan, "I have searched her myself." "Indeed you have," rejoined Verstork, "and torn off her clothing in the process?" "She would not allow--" "And it is you then," continued Verstork, "who have so shamefully ill-treated her?" "But what was I to do, Kandjeng toean? She offered resistance, and--look here, I found this upon her!" As he spoke, Singomengolo held up to the Controller's view a small box. This little box was strangely similar to the one which, the evening before, he had delivered to Verstork. Indeed, if the latter had not with his own hand carefully sealed it and had not sent it off himself to Santjoemeh he could have sworn that this second box was the identical one he had seen before. "Did you find that box in the girl's possession?" asked he, very sternly. "Yes, I did," replied Singomengolo, unabashed. "I have not smuggled opium!" cried poor Dalima, still cowering on the ground. "I have not smuggled anything; they dragged me into the hut and have ill-used me shamefully." "But," asked Verstork, "what brought you here at all?" "I was on my way to Kaligaweh. Last night some man came to the Residence, he came to tell me that my father was dying. Then I got leave from the njonja and from nonna Anna to go and see him." "Leave from the njonja and from nonna Anna, you said?" asked Verstork. "And from nonna Anna, yes, Kandjeng toean," said Dalima. "Then those two ladies will be able to bear witness to that I suppose?" asked Verstork. "Yes, Kandjeng toean." "And I can bring witnesses to swear that this girl had opium in her possession," interrupted Singo. "Witnesses!" said Verstork. "Who are they?" Singomengolo cast a crafty look around him ere he replied. He saw Mokesuep quietly entering the little hut. That gentleman had taken advantage of the confusion and had quietly sneaked away, while he had a chance to do so unperceived. He had reasons of his own for so doing; but Singomengolo's lip curled with a disdainful smile. "Just now," quoth he, "there was a Dutch gentleman here." "A Dutch gentleman!" echoed Verstork, now quite losing his temper. "A Dutch gentleman! take care what you are saying. Are you trying to make a fool of me? I won't stand such impudence, do you hear!" "Muizenkop was here just now," remarked Grenits interrupting him. "Muizenkop? why I have seen nothing of him all the morning!" "I don't know how it is," replied Grenits, "he told me something about losing his way." "But, what has become of him?" asked the Controller. "That I don't know--anyhow, he was standing here a minute ago." "But," continued Verstork speaking to Singomengolo. "You said two witnesses--who is the other?" "Lim Ho," was the fellow's insolent reply. "Lim Ho!" exclaimed van Nerekool in amazement. "And Dalima in that condition! Now I understand all about it!" "Lim Ho has terribly ill-used me," sobbed the poor girl "and--" but she could not utter another word. "And?" persisted Verstork. "He and that man there held me fast." "You villainous brute!" shouted van Nerekool as he shook his clenched fist in the wretch's face. "She has smuggled opium," replied the spy without flinching. "She has smuggled opium, and I found it upon her--that is all. The gentlemen must try not to lose their tempers. The girl is simply telling a parcel of lies." "I do not lie," cried Dalima, "I have not smuggled--my condition shows plainly enough how they have treated me." At a gesture from the controller a couple of oppassers lifted up the young girl from the ground. Van Nerekool assisted them, and called for another covering to wrap around her. Then turning to the Controller he said, "A foul outrage has been committed here--the way that poor girl has been treated is simply infamous!" Having thus for the moment taken care of Dalima, the company entered the hut. There they found Mokesuep smoking a friendly cigar with Lim Ho. The latter's ear was bandaged. "So," said Verstork to Mokesuep without bestowing so much as a look upon the Chinaman. "So you're here!" "Yes," was the reply, "I am here, I lost my way this morning in the ravine and have been wandering about until I came upon this hut. I then sought shelter from the burning sun. Bah, how hot it is in those open fields!" All this was said with the greatest self-possession. At the last sentence the wretch actually puffed as if he had really been suffering much from the heat. "You have been here some time then?" asked Verstork. "Well yes," was the reply, "about half an hour I should say, if you call that some time." "You will be called upon to bear witness," said the controller. "Indeed--bear witness to what?" "A dreadful outrage has been committed on that girl," continued Verstork. "An outrage?" asked Mokesuep as if much astonished. "I know nothing at all about it." "Nothing whatever has taken place here," remarked Singomengolo speaking in Malay; for though he would not use it yet he understood the Dutch language perfectly. "Nothing at all has taken place here," he repeated, "except the discovery of smuggled opium. Is that true or not, babah?" The Chinaman who had risen from his seat when the European gentlemen entered the hut, exchanged looks with Mokesuep, but answered at once, "Nothing else, Kandjeng toean." "I am not talking to you," said Verstork to the Chinaman, and then turning to Mokesuep he continued. "That girl, the baboe of the Resident at Santjoemeh, accuses both these men of having perpetrated a terrible crime." Mokesuep, who did not know Dalima, stood confounded when he learned who she was. The baboe of the Resident! What if that high and mighty one were to take up the cause of his servant? Indeed he did not know what to say or what to do. "Did you hear my words?" asked the Controller very sternly and very impatiently. The wretch caught a significant glance of Lim Ho who stood there audaciously puffing at his cigar. "I have seen nothing whatever of it, Controller," he replied. "But I," interrupted Singomengolo in a taunting tone of voice, "I accuse that baboe of having smuggled opium--I found it in her possession--the babah and the Dutch gentleman can bear witness to that." "Is that true?" asked Verstork. The Chinaman did not answer at once, vile and utterly depraved though he was, yet even he hesitated. He could not quite make up his mind utterly to destroy the poor girl whom he had so deeply injured. But Singomengolo gave him a significant look and made him a sign which was almost imperceptible. "Yes," said Lim Ho at length, "that is perfectly true." "Is that true?" said Verstork turning to Mokesuep. "Yes--it is true," replied the latter with the utmost effrontery. "Did you actually see the bandoelan find this box in the girl's possession?" "Yes," replied the wretch. At this word Dalima fell into a dead swoon. The other men present at the scene could not repress gestures of contempt and loathing, for all were firmly convinced of the poor girl's innocence and of the perjured scoundrel's infamy. "You damned wretch!" shouted Theodoor Grenits beside himself with fury and utterly unable any longer to restrain himself. A contemptuous smile, accompanied with a still more contemptuous gesture, was Mokesuep's only reply. That was too much for Grenits. "There! there!" he shouted livid with rage, "there, there! take that." And at the words he dealt the infamous scoundrel two swinging blows in the face. "Mr. Grenits! Mr. Grenits," cried Verstork in a dignified manner, "Do pray control yourself, do not make my official duty more difficult to perform than it already is." CHAPTER XX. A DINNER-PARTY. A few hours later our sportsmen were seated at table in the pandoppo of the Controller's house at Banjoe Pahit. Fritz Mokesuep, however, we need hardly say, was not of the party. William Verstork was a man who, as a rule, could put up with a good deal; but on this occasion he had not cared to conceal the aversion with which that individual inspired him. As soon as poor Dalima had been properly attended to, and under escort of a policeman, had been sent off in a tandoe as a prisoner to Santjoemeh, the Controller had told Mokesuep, in pretty plain language, that, after what had taken place between him and Grenits, his company could very well be dispensed with. "It seems to me," had been Mokesuep's reply, "that the person who inflicted the insult is the one that ought to stand aside." "Such, no doubt would, under ordinary circumstances, have been my opinion also," returned Verstork, with icy coolness; "but before I can consent to receive you as my guest, you will have to explain to me, in a satisfactory way, how you came to be in this hut, so far from the hunting-ground, and just at the time when the young girl was so shamefully ill-used." "She has not been--" interrupted Mokesuep. "Now, pray do not mistake me," resumed Verstork, "I said ill-used, at the present moment I make use of no stronger expression. We found her here half-naked and bleeding, and she was calling upon us for help. She had, therefore, evidently been ill-treated, at present I say nothing more than that. She suffered this ill-treatment in your presence--in your presence, who pretend to be a gentleman; and I repeat what I said just now, you will have to give me satisfactory proof that it was not in your power to assist or defend this poor young girl before I will consent to receive you under my roof." "But, Mr. Verstork--!" "If you can clear yourself of the suspicion which, perhaps very unjustly, at present rests upon you, I can assure you that nothing will give me greater pleasure than to hold out my hand to you, indeed you will find me the first to do so, unless my friend Grenits should forestall me." "In that case," said Grenits, "Mr. Mokesuep will find me perfectly prepared to give him any satisfaction he may require." "Satisfaction!" sneered Mokesuep, "never you mind about that, I know well enough how to get satisfaction!" "You refuse then," continued Verstork coldly, "to furnish me with the explanations I require?" "I owe you no explanations whatever, Mr. Verstork," cried Mokesuep, "I intend to reserve my explanations for the Resident's ear." "Very well, sir, just as you please," replied Verstork. "In that case I have nothing further to say to you," and with a stiff, formal bow he added: "Pray let me not detain you any longer." Mokesuep ground his teeth with rage at this direct dismissal; he flung his rifle over his shoulder, and, accompanied by Lim Ho and Singomengolo, who had stood by as silent spectators of the scene, without understanding much of what was going on, he hurried away in the direction of Santjoemeh. As he went he cried, "You shall pay for this, Mr. Verstork. I shall have my revenge!" It was a terrible threat, no doubt; but it did not take away the appetite of our friends; and so, as we have said before, a few hours after found them seated at the table in the pandoppo of the Controller at Banjoe Pahit. The pandoppo of the Controller's house could not, in size or extent, be compared with the splendid gallery in the stately residential mansion at Santjoemeh. But, for that very reason, it was more homely and more comfortable. It lacked the vast empty spaces between the columns, reminding one of a big market-hall, and it had not the lofty roof which made one think of a cathedral. It was, in fact, much more like a cosy sitting-room, and to this air of homely comfort, the tasteful manner in which Verstork had furnished it, contributed not a little. Indeed, this pandoppo was Verstork's ordinary sitting-room, and a very pleasant retreat it was. The big windows, all of them furnished with venetian blinds, gave free access to the breeze, while, on the sunny side, they could be closed so as to exclude the heat; and thus within that gallery it was always deliciously cool. The entire house moreover was surrounded by trees encircling it as with a crown of verdure, and their pleasant shade tempered the glaring light of the tropical day. There, William Verstork used to sit whenever his presence was not required in his office. There, at sunrise, he sipped his early cup of coffee, there he breakfasted and used to dine. There again he was wont to enjoy his papers and periodicals as in the afternoon he took a cup of tea, and used to dream away the evenings musing within himself, and often wondering whether, in such a place, it was well for a man to be alone. At any time of the day this pandoppo was a pleasant retreat, and specially gay and comfortable did it look now when the host had gathered his friends around his table. The very table itself contributed to the gaiety and brightness of the scene. On that board were displayed the inevitable bowls of rice, cooked by steaming in conical baskets of bamboo, every grain snow-white, distinct and separate. And with this standing dish of rice were served up in small saucers, an endless variety of soups, vegetables, sauces, pickles, and condiments of all kinds. There were chicken-broth, fish-soup, and other thicker kinds of soup. Then a variety of dishes flavoured with Spanish pepper, among which devilled shrimps, devilled eggs, the celebrated little red-fish of Macassar, the bean of the Paskia speciosa and the famous "pirate pepper," so called no doubt on account of its extreme pungency. The more substantial dishes consisted of meat and fish, such as jerked beef, smoked venison, roast or boiled joints, boiled and braised fowl, and a delicious fresh water fish, the Olfromeus Olfax. These and other dishes, too numerous to mention, are generally served up at a complete and well appointed dinner--or as they call it in Java--rice table. But the object which specially attracted the attention of our Luculluses as they entered the pandoppo, and which made them smack their lips in anticipation of a rare feast, was a sucking pig which stood conspicuous in the centre of the table in a capacious dish. It was roasted whole, was standing upright on its four legs, and had a lemon in its snout. It was a product of the day's hunting, one of the first victims, in fact, which had fallen, and had at once been taken home by one of Verstork's servants to play a prominent part in the entertainment. Every one of the guests did full justice to the good fare, and all proved themselves to be right valiant trenchermen; but though the grinders were kept busily at work, and though the palates fully appreciated the highly flavoured and succulent dishes, yet the tongues were by no means allowed to remain idle, nor was the conversation suffered to flag around the hospitable board. The reader may well believe there was plenty to talk about. "That confounded Muizenkop!" quoth Theodoor Grenits, "why, the fellow very nearly made me lose my temper." "Come, come, don't mention him," replied van Rheijn, "his very name would take away one's appetite." "By Jove," cried August van Beneden, "that sucking pig is a most delicious morsel." "Very nice, indeed," remarked van Rheijn. "But, how many of those chaps have we bowled over I wonder?" "That I cannot tell you," said Verstork. "But," resumed van Beneden, "we ought to know the number in order that we may be able to judge in how far our expedition may be called successful. How shall we find out?" "Patience, August, patience," said Verstork with a smile. "All right, William," continued van Beneden, "you know I have no great stock of that commodity. I wonder how many of those beasts we have knocked over. I saw a good number of them sprawling about." "The wedono will be here presently with his report," replied Verstork. "The wedono! Yes, he has disappeared--where can he have got to?" "Well," said Verstork, "I ordered him and the two loerahs to make a careful search in the Djoerang Pringapoes. He will no doubt soon be here to tell us the result of our day's work." The words were scarcely spoken, before one of the oppassers came in to announce the arrival of the dessa-chief. "Show him in!" cried Verstork. "Well, Wedono," he continued with a smile, "I see you come to share our rice-table, that is very kind of you, I am glad to see you." The Javanese chief, however, had recoiled in terror. Had the conscientious Mohammedan been a Roman Catholic he would most assuredly have crossed himself. As it was he merely muttered in the direst confusion, "Excuse me, Kandjeng toean! You know that we are not allowed to eat pork." "But, you can take something else, Wedono--there is beef on the table and fowl and duck and fish--anything you like in fact." "Thank you, Kandjeng toean, thank you; but all these things have been cooked in the same kitchen as the sucking pig, and, you know our religion forbids us--" "I am sorry for it, Wedono," replied Verstork. "I came here, Kandjeng toean," continued the chief, "to give you my report of the day's hunting." "Very well, Wedono!" "Seventeen pigs great and small have been killed. The Chinamen at Kaligaweh and at Banjoe Pahit have bought the carcases from the village people and are now busy carting them away." "Ah, Wedono, those Chinamen know what is good," said Verstork. "I suppose so, Kandjeng toean," replied the dessa-chief with a forced smile. "That is a pretty good number I think--is it not, Wedono?" remarked van Rheijn. "Do you think," he continued, "that we have pretty well exterminated them?" "Pretty nearly," answered the wedono. "A number of our people have gone after the pigs that broke away and have dispatched several of them. There are but a very few left and they have sought for refuge in the high mountain land, so that I do not think that we shall be troubled any more by that mischievous brood." "Well then, my friends," cried Verstork elated at the success of his expedition, "we may say that we have done a good morning's work. Here's good luck to Banjoe Pahit and the dessa-folk!" All the guests sprang to their feet and raised their glasses. Van Rheijn thrust a tumbler of beer into the wedono's hand--and with a joyous "hip, hip, hip, hurrah!" a toast was drunk to the inhabitants of the district who had been delivered from their troublesome visitors. "Has the Kandjeng toean any further orders for me?" asked the wedono. "If not I will beg leave to retire." "Yes, Wedono--there is something else. In the entrance of the Djoerang Pringapoes there lies a very big old boar, you will know him by his long tusks--I very much wish to have the head." "Excellent, excellent," exclaimed van Beneden, "Une hure de sanglier à la sauce piquante, that will be a rare treat!" "Hush, August!" said Verstork and, turning again to the wedono he continued, "Then further, I want you at once to open the inquiry in the matter of Dalima." "Certainly, Kandjeng toean." "And come to me presently--I must have some talk with you about that affair." "Very good, Kandjeng toean." "Presently," cried van Beneden, "presently why--" and then he struck up "We won't go home till morning ... Till daylight doth appear." The entire company joined in the well-known old tune. When the noise had somewhat subsided, Verstork continued; "Duty, my friends, before pleasure. You will presently go and have your afternoon nap, then you will take a bath. I shall pursue this inquiry with the help of the wedono. This evening it is my intention to return to Santjoemeh with you; for the first thing to-morrow morning I must have an interview with the Resident. You have understood me, Wedono, have you not?" "Yes, Kandjeng toean." "Very good then, I will not detain you." With a courtly bow, the dessa-chief took leave of the company and retired. The dinner went on; but the mention of Dalima had somewhat dashed the high spirits of the guests. The recollection of the sad event of the morning seemed to cast a chill over them all and to sober down even the merriest of the party. "Poor little Dalima!" sighed Grashuis, after a few moments' silence during which he had been discussing a duck's wing, "Poor little Dalima! could she be guilty of smuggling opium?" "Get along with you," cried van Beneden. "Does that pretty little thing look like a smuggler?" "Take care, August," said van Rheijn with a laugh, "a lawyer ought not to allow himself to be influenced by outward appearance. Am I not right, Charles?" Van Nerekool was not there and then ready with an answer to this appeal; he was in fact busily employed in removing the bones from a splendid slice of fish. But after a moment's pause he said: "Certainly not--yet, for all that I also am firmly persuaded of the girl's innocence." "Of course, of course--the baboe of nonna Anna, eh Charles--cela va sans dire?" "But," remarked van Rheijn, "the thing that puzzles me is that the opium was found upon her." "Do you believe that?" asked another. "Well I don't know what to say, there is Muizenkop's testimony." "What! would you take that scoundrel's word?" "Aye, aye," said Verstork very seriously, "the whole business looks ugly enough." "As far as I can see," said Grashuis, "there is but one hope left, and that is that nonna Anna may have influence enough with her father to get the affair hushed up." A bitter smile curled van Nerekool's lip, but he uttered not a word. "Now if Lim Ho, the son of the opium farmer, were not mixed up in the matter," said Verstork musingly, "why then you might have some reason for that hope--yes--then I think things might be squared; but now--" "But," exclaimed van Beneden interrupting his friend, "can you for a moment suspect that the judicial power--?" "My dear friend--my good August," replied Verstork, "a highly placed judicial functionary here in Dutch India once spoke these words: 'The opium trade lies upon this country as a heavy curse--it has impressed its stamp upon everything, alas, even upon our courts of justice.' I think I am right, Charles?" Van Nerekool nodded affirmatively. "Well," said van Rheijn, "all that is very sad, a very sad state of things indeed; but the worst of it is that the use of opium makes opium-farming a necessary evil." "What nonsense you do talk!" cried Grenits impatiently. "But Theodoor!" "But Edward!"-- "If the abuse of opium did not exist, then surely there would at once be an end of opium-farming. You will allow that I think?" "Oh yes," replied Grenits, "that sounds very plausible no doubt; but now supposing I were to retort by saying if there were no opium-monopoly then the abuse of the drug would never have assumed its present proportions? That does not perhaps sound so pleasant; but it is a statement which is more easily verified." "Oh yes, yes, we heard all about that last night; unfortunately however, the proof was not forthcoming." "Well," said Grenits, "what does history say?" "History," replied the other, "what you call history is neither more nor less than the personal opinion and utterance of the historian. One man contends that Europeans brought opium into the country, and another holds a different view--so much for history." "But Edward, I hope you do not distrust the Council of India?" "Well what does the Council say, Theodoor?" "If my memory serves me, it says this, or words to this effect: 'The opium monopoly has always been most anxiously watched by the Government as one of the most important sources of public revenue, and every means of enhancing the productiveness of that source of income has been most eagerly adopted.'" "Aye, aye," returned van Rheijn; "but is all this true?" "Why," said Grenits, "I hope, Edward, you do not doubt my word?" "Not in the least, my dear fellow, not in the least. I am quite ready to admit that your quotation is accurate; but was the Council properly informed when it gave that opinion?" "Well," replied Grenits, "if you go on like that, then we shall not be able to trust anybody or anything. Those people are paid, and most handsomely paid, to get the best and most trustworthy information. But independently altogether of the Council's opinion, in which you seem to have but little faith, tell me, does not the constantly rising revenue from the farming of opium afford proof absolute of the truth of the Council's word? Every successive year the estimate is higher and higher." "I know that," said van Rheijn, "but estimate and actual produce are widely different things." "True enough, they are sometimes widely different; but in this particular case they are not. Heaven and earth are moved to reach the figure at which the minister has estimated the revenue, and means the most unfair, even the most criminal, are employed in order, if possible, to surpass the sum at which the revenue has been placed. How many a Netherland's Lion has been given away because, in this district or in that, the produce of the opium contract has exceeded the figure at which the minister put it! How proudly must the 'Virtus Nobilitat' thus earned glitter upon the breast of its possessor!" "But I want to know," remarked August van Beneden, "is the use of opium really as injurious to the body as men say it is? We saw with our own eyes last night that as far as morality is concerned it has not much to recommend it; but how about its influence upon the material body? We sometimes hear the word poisoning used; that very term indeed was made use of last night, but it seems to me that it is a system of poisoning under which a man may attain to a very good old age, just as a man may grow old who drinks a glass or two of grog." "Listen to me," said Verstork in a most serious tone. "We are sitting here together, all, I hope, honest trustworthy men I can therefore speak my mind freely and fearlessly before you, and I may without reserve give you the conclusion to which a long and richly varied experience has led me on the subject of opium. "The habitual use of opium, even in comparatively moderate doses, invariably leads to vitiation of the blood and constriction of the vessels. This again gives rise to an asthmatic condition and to a permanent and wasting and almost always incurable dysentery. These are accompanied by the most distressing symptoms and intolerable suffering. Upon the opium smoker, moreover, medicines begin gradually to lose their effect, excepting the narcotic poisons in ever increasing quantities. Hence the sufferer is driven to seek relief in augmented doses of the poison, and if he cannot obtain these, his condition becomes utterly unbearable. Yet to this suffering he is doomed, unless he can pass from one fit of intoxication to the other. Opium smoking is the only thing to alleviate the miseries of the collapse which follows an opium debauch, and but few can afford the continual drain of so expensive a remedy. Where a sufficient quantity of good wholesome food is taken, these lamentable results may be slow in showing themselves; and a generous and strengthening diet has preserved many a man, for an entire lifetime, from the most serious consequences of his pernicious habit. But even in these cases, the state of the blood and the general condition of health are so bad, that trifling ailments, such as an ordinary boil or a slight wound, assume a most malignant character and often lead to fatal results; and who can venture to say how many diseases, which depend upon cachexia and which are so common in this country, are caused, or, at all events, are greatly aggravated by the habitual use of opium? "I spoke just now of a sufficient quantity of nutritive food; but we know too well--and the Government also knows it--that but very few of the natives can afford a supply of food which can be called either sufficient or nutritious. It is well known how exceedingly meagre the diet of the Javanese is, even among those who are in tolerably good circumstances; and it is well known also that, even when he can afford it, he very seldom makes use of food which is really strengthening. And that diet, be it more or less generous, must of necessity become more and more meagre when every day a considerable, and ever more considerable portion of the wages is squandered in the purchase of opium. Thus the enjoyment itself tends to make impossible the only condition under which it might be indulged in with anything like impunity. "But, you will doubtless object--in such cases lack of money must compel these people to limit themselves to a very moderate consumption, and they will thus be preserved from the fatal effects of excessive indulgence. Such, however, is not always the case. There are men, and their number is by no means small, who in the days of their prosperity have gradually accustomed themselves to a very considerable consumption of the drug; and who, when all their worldly possessions have vanished in clouds of intoxicating smoke, have been compelled either to satisfy themselves with diminished doses of opium or else to abstain from smoking altogether. It is difficult to fathom the hopeless misery of such poor creatures. Further, experience has proved, that very many whose daily consumption is strictly moderate, yet at forty years of age and upwards suffer frightfully from the ill effects of opium, especially of the most painful and incurable dysentery. I myself have at Berbek, at Trengalek, at Santjoemeh, here at Banjoe Pahit and elsewhere, cured a great number of such sufferers with a certain remedy, and thus I have had ample opportunity to make myself personally acquainted with the facts. "Now, if with these unfortunate creatures we compare the thousands who, at home, drink their couple of glasses of beer or of spirits, then it will appear at a glance how much more pernicious is the use of opium than the use of alcohol. The former indeed, is infinitely more stupefying and deadening, and thus, very much more rapidly than alcohol, it destroys the appetite; so that, even when plenty of wholesome food is at hand, it either cannot be taken at all or else loses much of its nutritive value. Confirmed opium smokers have repeatedly told me that, in consequence of their pernicious habit, they could eat only a few pinches of rice a day, whereas, when, by the help of a remedy with which I supplied them, they were able gradually to diminish their daily dose of opium, they could take ten times the amount of nourishment. "Then comes another point, and that is the extreme fascination and seductiveness of opium, which causes the most pleasurable bodily sensations, which fills the mind with glorious dreams, which, for a while, removes all pain and suffering, while it, at the same time, deadens much more effectually than strong drink, the mental faculties, in this depressed race already sufficiently dormant, and thus the use of opium holds its victim much more securely bound in the fetters of his fatal passion, than the moderate use of alcohol enslaves anyone at home. "Having thus, by degrees, come to the influence of opium upon the mind and the character, I must certainly not omit to draw your attention to the selfishness and self-indulgence which it develops in the smoker; to the ever-growing indifference to all his surroundings, even to his own wife and children; to the listless indolence and aversion to work, to care, to trouble in fact of any kind, which at length, by night or day, allows him to think of nothing but of his master-passion and all its concomitant cravings, to the gratification of which everything must be sacrificed, and everybody must become subservient. A gin drinker, for the indulgence in his ignoble passion, demands no other service than that now and then someone is sent out to fetch him his dram; but the opium smoker, if he can afford the luxury of attendance at all, monopolises the services of his entire household. One must work hard to earn the means of satisfying his expensive craving, another must go and purchase his opium, a third must stand by in readiness to fill his pipe, a fourth must prepare his coffee and the other refreshments he requires. It is true, no doubt, that he is not so violent and not so noisy in his debauch as one who is under the influence of liquor; but, when the effects of the narcotic begin to wear off and his pains and ailments again begin to make themselves felt, then, unless the whole family is at his beck and call and ready once more to minister to his passion, he fills the house with invectives and threatening--then he utters moanings and lamentations most pitiful and heartrending. If to this we add the bodily and mental debility which the opium slave transmits as a legacy to his wretched offspring, though the majority of smokers cease at an early age to have children at all, then we cannot help wondering what kind of miserable stunted race will be the second or third generation from the present one. "And then," continued Verstork, after a pause, "and then the poverty and destitution which the use of opium entails! What an amount of prosperity and welfare has already been,--and is daily being--swallowed up by the use of that baneful drug! Among the lower classes, an opium smoker, even though he smokes in strict moderation, very soon arrives at the point when he must devote his entire earnings to the purchase of the drug, while at the same time his craving for refreshing and stimulating dainties must likewise be satisfied. The families are legion in which the wife, assisted perhaps by one or two of her children, is the only breadwinner. Should she happen to be in delicate health, should she be disabled by sickness or childbed, why then the misery of such a household is unfathomable. And, believe me, such cases of extreme misery are much more frequent out here than similar cases of destitution in Europe occasioned by the abuse of drink. "Now all these powers, bodily, mental, and moral; and all that prosperity, which at present opium saps and destroys, might be devoted to industry and agriculture. If such use were made of them, how much greater would be both production and consumption, and how much more considerable would be the profit to the exchequer--a profit earned in a fair and legitimate way--than any revenue which the accursed system of opium farming can produce! Thousands upon thousands of the natives here have neither the energy, nor the means, nor the inclination to work or to learn how they may profitably cultivate their gardens and fields, neither do they care to progress in any branch of industry whatever; because they have offered up--and are continually offering--all they possess in the world to opium. But, are not industry and agriculture the very life-blood of a State? Yet here, the state itself does all it possibly can to poison that life-blood, and thus to bring about its own destruction." William Verstork here paused for awhile, after so long an oration, he felt the necessity of quenching his thirst with a glass of beer. All his guests sat silently waiting for what he might further have to say. His words had evidently made a very deep impression upon his hearers, for the language to which they had listened was the simple and unvarnished tale of actual experience; and, however young and heedless some of them might be, yet the speech of their friend had awakened their interest, and had gone straight to their hearts. At length, after having drawn a long breath, the Controller went on to say: "You know, my friends, that my official career has not been passed entirely at Santjoemeh. My probationary time I spent in the capital of the Kediri residence. As second-class controller I was some time at Berbek and at Trenggalek. I know, therefore, from personal experience how matters stand in those residencies also. Now listen to me. Kediri has a population of about 700,000 souls--the vast majority of them very poor people. In that place the opium contract produces eighteen hundred thousand guilders. If to that sum we add the price paid for the drug delivered to the farmer, and the profits which he makes on the sale then, I think, we shall be well within the mark if we put down two and a half millions of guilders as the sum which those poor people, of their own free will, pay annually to purchase a few hours a day of enjoyment and oblivion. I say nothing now about the cost of smuggled opium; the amount paid for it is not known, and every one must, therefore, form his own opinion of that. How is it possible for a population so poor to find so large a sum of money, in addition, mind you, to all their other burdens, such as compulsory labour, salt-tax, rent, licenses, import duties, &c.? That is a mystery to me--but then you should see what kind of a life is that of a poor Javanese family. "Their house is generally very small, built of bamboo and covered with straw. Furniture they have none whatever; a mat spread out on a bamboo bench, and a coarse pillow is what they sleep on. They cook their food on the ground in pots and pans of the commonest earthenware; they eat it on pisang leaves with their fingers; they drink water out of an earthenware pitcher. They seldom, we may say never, wash their clothes which, such as they are, they continue to wear until they fall in rags from their bodies. The children run about naked, and grow up in the mud among the bullocks. At five o'clock in the morning they rise and go to work so as to be present in time for roll-call at six. They work for their masters, in the rice-fields, at road-making, in the coffee plantations, or in the osier-beds. Should a man get a day off, he may go and work on his own account, and then he can earn about 40 or 50 cents (10 pence) for ten hours' labour. When they get home in the evening, they have their morsel of food and fully half the day's earning is spent on opium. At eight o'clock all are fast asleep, and up to eight o'clock the only lamp they have in the hut is a saucer with a cotton wick in a little stinking oil. Such is the faithful picture of the daily life of a Javanese opium smoker. Nothing--absolutely nothing to make the slightest break in this weary monotony. Nothing but work, hard work; mostly for insufficient wages, very frequently compulsory labour for no wages at all. And then, behind their backs to be called a pack of lazy scoundrels! That is a little too bad. Tell me, have we Dutch any feeling at all for our fellow-creatures? Is it not at length high time that all that compulsory and unpaid labour should be done away with and that the opium-curse should be banished from the land? Every right-minded Dutchman ought to do his best according to the utmost of his power to attain that end, because every Dutchman is personally and individually responsible for so frightful a state of things, and every Dutchman ought to be heartily ashamed of himself while the poor patient Javanese are being so shamefully imposed upon. All that the poor native can earn either by his work for his masters or in his own free time, he must, in one shape or other, offer up to that insatiable Moloch, the public treasury. There is but one thing left for him, and that is a little rice; and of that he has not enough to last him for the whole year." "Yes," observed Grenits, when Verstork had finished speaking, "yes, William, you are perfectly right, and that is the reason why he seeks for consolation and temporary oblivion in the opium den, just as in Holland a poor man in similar circumstances flies for relief to the bottle. Thus cause and effect act and react upon one another; misery suggests opium or drink, and drink and opium in their turn engender misery. It requires a very powerful effort of the will to shake off either bad habit, and drink and opium are the very things which deprive a man of whatever power of will he may have. Therefore it is perfectly hopeless to expect the people to take the initiative in any such reforms as Verstork has mentioned; the evil keeps on spreading and is daily striking deeper roots. The ruling power ought to exercise its authority and drag these poor degraded people out of the slough of despond in which so many of them are wallowing. It ought to do this, I say, regardless of cost and trouble; and regardless also of the pain it may for the moment inflict. Every right-minded citizen ought, according as he is able, to assist the government in that arduous task, and whoever would, for selfish motives, strive to retard or to frustrate this plan of rescue ought at once to be put aside and rendered harmless. If Holland and Dutch India cannot continue to exist, or to speak more correctly, cannot continue to pay their way without screwing a revenue out of such immoral sources as abuse of opium, abuse of drink and unpaid compulsory labour--why then for honour of the country it were better that it should do like the man who is no longer able to maintain, by honest means, a separate home of his own, and go and live as a boarder in the house of another." For a few moments all sat silent. They all felt the truth, the undeniable truth of Theodoor's words, though his concluding sentence had most deeply wounded their patriotic pride. At length van Beneden started up from his seat, and going up to Verstork he took his hand and pressed it cordially. "I thank you," said he in a tone of deep emotion, "I thank you heartily for the insight you have given me into the fatal effects of opium. I am but a young lawyer and have, as yet, had no opportunity of appearing as counsel in any case connected with the traffic. I have read much about the abuse of the drug, and I learned much last night under the Wariengien tree on the green at Kaligaweh; but your manly and vigorous words have awakened my conscience, and here, in the presence of you all, I solemnly promise that I will, on the very first opportunity that may present itself, make the very best use I can of what your experience has taught me." "Hurrah!" cried Leendert Grashuis. "William, your excellent speech has thus had not only a practical, but it will have an immediate effect. Aye, my friends, I say an immediate effect; for I have a proposition to make to you--" "Out with it!" they cried, "let us hear it." "Yesterday, we all but witnessed the Amokh which took place at Kaligaweh; this morning we were within a few minutes of witnessing another and no less terrible crime. It is not my intention to analyse the feelings to which these scenes have given rise in our hearts--the father a manslayer, and the daughter dishonoured. Both these events, however, are intimately and immediately connected with the infamous system of opium-farming. We have heard the testimony of our superior officer. In the name of all assembled here, I thank him for his noble sentiments; and now my friends let us not be behind him in generosity. Dalima and her father must have an advocate in the trial which awaits them, and that advocate we have found. Both the accused parties will, in our friend August van Beneden, find a defender who will take up their cause with zeal and ability. Methinks, I can hear his maiden speech--it will be a splendid one." "Thank you, Leendert," said van Beneden with much emotion, "I can assure my friends that they have not misjudged me." "Aye, aye," continued Grashuis, "I know that well; but we all of us intend to participate in the good work, do we not?" "By all means!" was the general cry. "Well then, listen to me, for now I come to the proposal I have to make. In this case there can be no question of offering our friend van Beneden any honorarium--that would deprive his labour of love of its chief merit. But in carrying on this defence many expenses will necessarily be incurred and many fees will have to be paid in advance. We all know that Dame Justice is in India an expensive--a most expensive hussy. Well then, let us all join hands and undertake to find the funds that may be required--then August will be able to carry on both cases in the most effectual and vigorous manner." "Agreed, agreed!" they all exclaimed. "Now, August, do your best!" "Now that we have arranged that business," resumed Grenits, "I have a question to put to our host." "By all means, Theodoor," said Verstork, "what is it?" "I am a merchant," said Grenits, "and as such, I am bound to be very inquisitive. In trade I not only need all the information I can obtain about any article of commerce; but I find a little chemistry uncommonly useful--" "Come to the point," cried several of the guests; "we don't want any lectures on chemistry and commerce!" But Grenits, without paying any heed to the interruption, went on: "Just now in your speech you made mention of a certain remedy which I think you said you found useful in curing some unhappy slaves to opium. Is that, may I ask, a secret remedy?" "A secret remedy?" asked Verstork, with a laugh. "What do you mean--do you take me for a quack-doctor?" "Not by any means," replied Grenits. "Since this remedy then is not a secret one, will you tell me what it is?" "With pleasure," said Verstork; "they are pills which were given me by a missionary. They are composed of opium and radix rhei or rhubarb, in the following proportions: Twelve of these pills contain three grains of opium and twelve grains of rhubarb. They are to be administered every five days; the first time twelve have to be taken, the next time nine, the third time six, but it is very seldom indeed that the third dose is required, for by that time the patients are generally cured." "And," persisted Grenits, "can you actually vouch for their efficacy?" "To be sure I can," replied Verstork. "In my study you will find a kind of trophy consisting of a dozen bedoedans or opium-pipes which the smokers have deposited with me with the solemn promise that they would never touch the pipe again. The missionary who gave me the pills can speak most positively of upwards of seventy cures." "Now," asked Grenits, "you will not be offended if I give you a bit of advice in your own interest and in the interest also of the missionary?" "Certainly not," said Verstork, "let us hear it, by all means." "Well, my advice is this: keep that prescription strictly to yourself and don't say a word about it to anybody. The colonial secretary who has but one object in view, and that is, to raise the opium revenue as much as possible, might look upon your remedy as an attack made upon the golden calf; and missionaries have before this been impeded in their Gospel work, and men have been expelled from the colonies, and official functionaries have been suspended or pensioned off for the commission of much more venial offences than bringing such pills as yours to the opium-smoker." Verstork turned slightly pale as he heard his friend's well-meant advice. For a single moment his thoughts flew to those dear ones who so greatly needed his assistance and support. Did he repent of having thus honestly spoken his mind? Who can say!--He put his hand to his forehead as if to wipe away some unpleasant reflection. "Oh," said he, "it is not quite so bad as that, I hope." "Perhaps not," said Grenits, with a smile, "but your pills will not earn you the Netherlands' Lion." "That may be," said the Controller, "however, Fais ce que dois, advienne que pourra, that is my motto. For all that I shall not give the poor souls one pill the less." Then, allowing his eye to wander over the table which by this time had been pretty well cleared, for our friends had sat down to dinner as hungry as hunters, he continued-- "My friends, our dinner is over. After yesterday's jaunt and this morning's exertion, and after the very short rest we had last night, you must all need repose. My servants will show you to your rooms. I am going to work and, as I told you just now, this evening I am off with you to Santjoemeh. I wish you all a pleasant siesta." A few minutes later the pandoppo was deserted and towards evening the five friends were galloping along the road to the capital. CHAPTER XXI. IN THE RESIDENT'S OFFICE. Verstork was much too late. After the scene in the hut near the Djoerang Pringapoes, he ought at once to have jumped into the saddle and there and then have galloped off to Santjoemeh; thus he might possibly have succeeded in warding off the storm that was gathering over his head. As it was, he had allowed another to forestall him. It was not long before he found that out. "So!--that is your report of what has taken place!" said van Gulpendam, in the most offensive and sneering tone imaginable, when the Controller at length, after having long been kept waiting and after having times out of number paced up and down the front-gallery, had been admitted into the presence of his chief. "So--that is your report is it? It seems to me you have taken your time about it! Yesterday, before noon, the information had already reached me. A pleasant dinner time for me when such things are occurring in my residency. But the gentlemen, it seems, were amusing themselves with hunting. Oh, yes! anything may be going on in their district, then they see nothing, they hear nothing!" "But, Resident--" Verstork ventured to say. "Hold your tongue, sir," cried van Gulpendam, savagely, "I have asked you no question, when I do it will be time enough to answer, and then, I suspect, you will have no reply to make." Verstork was standing there, in the office of his superior officer, pale as death and unnerved and biting his lips with suppressed rage. "I cannot say, Mr. Verstork, that you have clapped on too much sail--you have been somewhat slow in making me acquainted with these painful events." "Resident, I--" "I did not put any question," again roared van Gulpendam, with a look of scorn and contempt upon his subordinate, "please hold your tongue!" "It appeared to me, Resident, that--" "Be silent, I say! I only have a right to speak--" Verstork, however, took no heed of this rude interruption, and quietly went on: "--That you made some remarks about the time of my presenting my report. If that be so, I feel it my duty, nay my right, to exculpate myself." "If you will not keep silence," shouted van Gulpendam, "I will call--" he was on the point of making a mistake, he was just going to say the boatswain's mate; but he checked himself and said, "I will call my chief constable and have you removed out of my presence." "Hark you, Mr. van Gulpendam," said Verstork drawing himself up to his full height, and speaking with much dignity, "Hark you, I am neither your corporal nor your boatswain of the watch. And, further, let me tell you that if you continue to address me in such terms I will lodge a complaint against you with the Secretary for the Home Department, or better still, with the Governor General!" It was now van Gulpendam's turn to change colour, he saw that he had gone a little too far. He had so long been accustomed to see every one bowing down before him and putting up with all his whims and fits of bad temper, that he never thought of checking himself in the presence of Verstork, whom he had always looked upon as an easy-going and good-tempered fellow. He now, however, at once drew in his horns and said in a very different tone: "Pardon me, Mr. Verstork, you know I am of a sanguine temperament. I am, moreover, very much vexed at not receiving this news from one of my officers in the first instance. Come, take a seat, I should like to run my eye over this report." The Controller sat down, while the resident at his desk turned his back to the light and began reading the document. Outside the office, a couple of police oppassers were pacing up and down, attracted, no doubt, to the spot by the high tone of voice in which the conversation had been carried on. In a moment or two van Gulpendam again broke out--"I thought as much--I had been warned of this--" But, checking himself, he said no more, and went on reading. "Resident," said Verstork, "may I beg leave to inquire against what you have been warned?" Van Gulpendam looked up over the sheet of paper he held in his hand, and fixing his eye on the controller's face which was turned to the light, he said, with an assumed air of dignity: "Mr. Verstork, you really ought to try and cure yourself of the bad habit you seem to have contracted of interrogating your superiors. Believe me that kind of thing makes a very bad impression. I do not mind telling you what warning I have received, not, mind you, because you demand the information; but because I consider it only fair that you should know. It will probably bring you to the conclusion that you had better take back this report and modify it altogether." "Modify my report, Resident?" exclaimed Verstork; but, without noticing the interruption, van Gulpendam continued: "I have been informed that you intend to represent matters in such a light as to make it appear that a successful attempt has been made on the honour of this Javanese girl. "But, Resident," said Verstork, very gravely, "this question concerns a person who is in your service, who is the baboe--I may almost say--the companion, of your own daughter." "And who, as such," said van Gulpendam, interrupting him, "ought to be a person of unblemished character. I quite agree with you there. Unfortunately, she is nothing of the kind. Only a few days ago she was roaming about outside the house for the whole night, and then came in with a long rigmarole about a forcible abduction of which she pretended to have been the victim. Now again, for the second time, she is out at night, and this time she is found in the possession of opium. She is the daughter of a smuggler--you know that as well as I do, seeing that on Saturday last there was a murder committed in her father's house, of which, luckily, you sent me timely notice. She is engaged to be married to another opium smuggler; and now it has been proved that she is a smuggler herself. At present she is safe under lock and key, and I am glad of it, as it will spare me the trouble of driving the brazen-faced slut out of my premises." "But, Resident," resumed Verstork, as soon as his chief paused for a moment to take breath, "when we came running up to her cries for help, she was naked, bleeding, her hair dishevelled. Everything in fact pointed to--" "A desperate resistance to the police," broke in van Gulpendam. "I know all about that. Did you examine her?" "No, I did not." "Very well, that examination I have ordered the medical authorities to hold, and see there," continued the Resident, as he looked out of the window, "why, unless I am mistaken, that is the carriage of the chief medical officer now stopping at the gate! We shall soon get to the bottom of this business." Almost immediately after this the chief constable came in to announce the arrival of the Surgeon General. The latter advanced to the Resident's chair, shook hands very ceremoniously, and then went through the same process, but much more familiarly, with the Controller. "Ha, Verstork--you here?" he said. Before, however, the Controller had time to reply, the Resident, turning to the doctor, said: "Take a seat, doctor--well?--" "No question of any such thing, Resident!" "Indeed--now did I not tell you so? But the girl was wounded they told me." "A few scratches of no importance whatever--mere trifling skin-wounds and a little blood!" "There was therefore no stu--stu--what did you call it?" "Stuprum violentum--Oh, no, no! nothing of the kind. Here is the formal certificate properly filled in--that will be sufficient to satisfy all objections." "Thank you, doctor--much obliged to you." "Now, Resident, I must beg you to excuse me. I must be off at once as I have a number of visits to pay. Good-bye, sir--good-bye, Verstork." "No excuse required, doctor," said van Gulpendam, "don't let me detain you; good-morning!" As soon as the medical officer had disappeared van Gulpendam turned to Verstork and said: "You heard that--didn't you, Mr. Verstork?" "Oh, yes, I heard it; but my conviction is not the least shaken." "It is not?" "No, Resident." "Well, for all that," said van Gulpendam, airily, "I advise you to heave to." "To heave to? I don't understand you," said Verstork, though all the time he understood perfectly. "I will express my meaning in plainer terms," returned van Gulpendam, very deliberately, "I advise you, as I have done already, to take back this report and to modify it." "Why should I do so, Resident? Why do you give me that advice?" "Because, in the first place, the facts mentioned in it are twisted, exaggerated, and represented from a prejudiced and partial point of view." "Resident!" interrupted Verstork. But without heeding him van Gulpendam went on: "In fact that paper reads like a sensational report, which evidently is aimed at attaining some ultimate object. And then again there occur in it passages which most certainly will be highly displeasing to the Government. Here, for instance, is one of them:" The Resident turned over the leaves of the document, and seemed to be looking for a certain passage; having found it he read as follows: "Allow me also to state that my official career of twelve years has taught me that the opium-monopoly is an imperium in imperio; that in order to promote the opium-trade everything the people loves and honours is trampled upon and trodden under foot. The opium-farmer does not trouble himself in the least about police regulations or about penal statutes, his satellites simply enter people's houses and violate the right of domicile; his spies and his policemen--at all events the police which he has in his pay--have no scruples whatever, and pay no respect to anything. A European would make himself liable to severe punishment were he to treat the natives in the manner in which the refuse of mankind, if only they are in the opium-farmer's employ, dares to treat them. These opium-agents have respect neither for the husband, the wife, nor the daughter. In the houses, aye even on the public roads, they strip them, they search them in the most disgusting manner, and never trouble themselves about any protest at all. These scoundrels, sheltering themselves under the impunity which the opium monopoly casts over them, inflict upon the natives the most horrible insults frequently to satisfy their own passions, sometimes merely for the purpose of revenge. A sad proof of this is the treatment to which the Javanese girl, Dalima, has been subjected." The Resident paused here for an instant and fixed a penetrating glance upon his subordinate; but the latter as steadily returned his gaze. "You see," he continued, "when I read such rant as that, then I am forced to suspect"--and here the high functionary significantly tapped his forehead with his finger--"that there is something wrong with you here!" "Resident! exclaimed Verstork, "you are forgetting yourself!" "Not at all, my dear sir, for by writing thus, what do you in fact tell me, in so many words? What but this: that in your districts these domiciliary visits and these searches on the high roads are necessary to prevent the illegal sale of opium. You know, even better than I do, that quite lately there have in your districts been several very ugly revelations. I have only to call to your mind the capture at Moeara Tjatjing, the capture at Kaligaweh in the house of Pak Ardjan, and now again smuggled opium is found with Setrosmito and with his daughter Dalima. Suspicions may perhaps have arisen in my mind that Banjoe Pahit is a hot-bed of smuggling; but now your most intemperate language confirms my worst fears." "Resident!" cried Verstork no longer able to contain himself, "however great is the respect which I am bound to feel for your mature judgment, yet I cannot allow these words of yours to pass without protesting against them. For, in the first place, you insinuate that I have been guilty of neglect of duty with regard to the opium-traffic, and, in the next, you suggest that this neglect of duty on my part has made Banjoe Pahit a hot-bed of the smuggling-trade. I am, however, perfectly well acquainted with the duties which the Order of 1867 imposes upon me, and, allow me to assure you, I am too conscientious to neglect those duties." "My dear Mr. Verstork, I did not intend----" interrupted van Gulpendam. "Give me leave to continue," resumed Verstork; "I have been attacked, I now defend myself against your imputations, it is my duty to do so, and I claim it as my right. I positively and utterly deny that Banjoe Pahit is a hot-bed of smuggling." "Do you intend to tell me then," cried van Gulpendam, "that no smuggling is carried on there?" "I do nothing of the kind, Resident," replied Verstork, "were I to do so that would be saying what I know to be untrue. My district lies right along the open and everywhere accessible coast of the Java sea. The laws which control the illegal traffic in opium are, as you are aware, wholly insufficient; and, even such as they are, we have not the power to carry out the laws effectually. No wonder then that the smugglers--and, as you know, the opium-farmers themselves are the chief offenders--no wonder, I say, that the smugglers make the most of this lax state of things. It stands to reason that it should be so; but if you compare the illegal trade which goes on at Banjoe Pahit with the smuggling in the adjoining districts which lie along the same sea-coast, then I maintain that you will find that my district, far from being as you would have it, a hot-bed of smuggling, contrasts, in that respect, very favourably with the others. Now, as regards the cases to which you have twice alluded, I, as controller of the district, have very carefully investigated them; and I now give it you as my deliberate opinion that the opium discovered at Moeara Tjatjing was put on shore by the boats of the schooner brig Kiem Ping Hin, a vessel which, you know, does not stand in the odour of sanctity; whilst the other two concern but very minute quantities of the drug which assuredly would never have been found at all, had the bandoelans been previously themselves well searched." "That is all very fine, Mr. Verstork," replied van Gulpendam, "but for the present it carries us too much into detail. To come to the point, however, I now again repeat my friendly advice, go about, go about, and take back this report." William Verstork sat there pale as death. For a moment he covered his eyes with his hands as if he would exclude some painful vision, and he reflected. The thought of his mother, of his sisters and brothers, came up vividly before him, and ran like a red-hot iron through his brain. He fully grasped the purport of the advice he had heard. He knew perfectly well that it was not only a counsel, but also a threat, a threat moreover from an all-powerful superior to a helpless subordinate. For one moment--to his honour be it said, it was but for one moment--he hesitated; then his strong natural sense of duty resumed its sway. "Resident," said he in a gentle and low, but yet in a perfectly steady voice, "what would be your opinion of me if I were to give way and follow your counsel? What would you think of me if I were to take back my report? I say nothing now of the violence which I thus would be doing to my sense of common honesty." "Sirrr!" roared van Gulpendam in a passion. "Would you not, in that case, consider me wholly unfit for the position which I at present occupy; would you not feel the deepest contempt for my character, and would not your sense of duty urge you at once to request me to retire from my country's service? At any rate, I know that you could never again, from that moment, place the slightest confidence in me. Is not that true? And yet the position I occupy imperatively demands that I should enjoy the fullest confidence of my superior officer." Mr. van Gulpendam had by this time recovered his temper, he could not help feeling the force of Verstork's words. "You take the whole business," said he in his most conciliatory manner, "much too seriously. Now, just see how I look upon it. Yesterday you gentlemen had a most fatiguing day's hunting. I make no doubt that now and then the pocket-flask was appealed to--of course it was, and very naturally too. After the hunt was over, a jolly sociable dinner, at which strong, heady Haantjes beer and heavy Baour wine--perhaps even generous champagne circulated pretty freely. No harm in that, all that is the most natural thing in the world. Amongst young people one could expect nothing else. Well--in that happy frame of mind you sat down to write your report--that is how I look upon it." "Indeed, Resident," replied Verstork, "that report of mine then seems to have made no impression upon you, than that either I was not right in the head, or that I wrote it under the influence of liquor?" "Mr. Verstork, my dear sir, you have such a queer way of blurting out things. Believe me, I have but one object in view, and that is to prevent you--in your own interest mind you--to commit an act of folly. It is for you to say whether you are prepared to withdraw this report--yes or no. To this I have but a single word to add, and that is: that your entire career depends upon your present decision." Verstork heaved a deep sigh. He saw only too clearly that, in whatever way he might decide to act, his position was an exceedingly difficult one. But for all that he would not retrace one step on the straight path upon which he had entered, which he knew was the path of truth and honour, and very quietly, but very firmly he said: "Resident, my decision is taken. Come what will, I refuse to take back my report." "Is that your final decision?" "It is, Resident." "Now think it well over--is that your last word?" "Resident, it is." "Be it so," said van Gulpendam with apparent resignation, "you will have no one but yourself to blame for the consequences." "I am prepared to meet the consequences, Resident." "Very well, in that case I shall have to send up the paper in its present state to the Governor General--the matter will then be in his hands." Verstork was preparing to rise and take his leave, thinking that the painful interview was at an end. "One moment please, Mr. Verstork," said the Resident. "Just sit down for another few minutes--I have another account to settle with you." "What is that, Resident?" asked the Controller. "Yesterday morning a highly respected inhabitant of the island was publicly insulted and even suffered personal violence, merely because, at your bidding, he bore testimony to the truth. That abuse and that ill-treatment he suffered in your presence and you did not, so far as I am aware, exercise your authority either to prevent it or to put a stop to it." "It was all the work of an instant," replied Verstork; "the words were uttered and the blows were dealt so suddenly and so unexpectedly, that no one--not even you--had you been present--could have interposed. I can assure you that had there been the slightest fear of the offence being repeated, I would have stepped in to prevent it." "I know nothing about all that," said van Gulpendam coldly. "I only know that abusive words were uttered and blows were dealt, while you, the superior officer, stood by. That is how the matter stands. Now if I could only have suggested to the authorities that our young hunters were in a state of excitement and that the action was merely one of youthful indiscretion." "No, Resident, not so," exclaimed Verstork, "not at all--not at least under the influence of that particular kind of excitement which you were kind enough to suggest just now." "It was done therefore in cold blood! I am obliged, Mr. Verstork, to take notice of that fact; you see even if I were disposed to be lenient, your own words deprive me of the power of hushing the matter up. All this, I fear, is not much in your favour, sir, and your friend, who seems so ready with his fists, will thank you no doubt for your testimony to his sobriety." "My friend!" cried Verstork, "what has he got to do with all this?" "What has he got to do with it? Why he will find that out soon enough I fear. I have here lying before me a formal accusation, which I hoped I might be able quietly to shelve and say no more about; but now, I must forward it to the authorities. You see, Mr. Verstork, you might have avoided all this unpleasantness." "Ah, Resident," replied Verstork very bitterly, "I begin to see that Mr. Mokesuep has not allowed the grass to grow under his feet. Be all that, however, as it may. If you think that this trifling occurrence must be followed up--very well then, let the law have its course! I shall be the very first to appear as a witness." The Resident uttered a strange short laugh; but made no reply. Verstork rose from his seat. "Have you any further orders, sir?" he said with a formal bow. "None at present, Mr. Verstork." "Then I beg to wish you a very good morning." A slight nod from the Resident, who still kept his seat at his desk, was the only reply to his greeting. The next moment Verstork was walking down the steps of the mansion muttering to himself as he went, "Poor mother, poor sisters!" "Stupid ass," said van Gulpendam to himself. "Yes, an arrant fool indeed! Now that that booby won't come to terms the business will require a little more piloting. Never mind, I have friends in Batavia who know how to get such questions safe into harbour; men who knew how to make General van der Heijden disappear, and who will not think much of this little job. Forward! is the word--at the end of it all there is the 'Virtus Nobilitat.'" A short time after, Verstork sat down to dinner with his friend van Nerekool. The latter was the only one at home since van Rheijn had sent word that pressing business would keep him at the office and that he could therefore not be in to dinner. The two friends were discussing the events of the former day and the result also of the morning's interview with the Resident. The Controller was so utterly downcast and disheartened, that van Nerekool, who himself was not in the best of spirits, yet felt that he must try and cheer him up and put some courage into him. "Come, William, old fellow," he said, "don't hang your head so sadly. You would almost make me think that you repent of the course of action you have taken." "Repent, Charles," cried the other, very sadly and yet without a sign of hesitation. "Repent? no never, if it were all to do again I would, in every respect, act as I have done. But, my poor mother, my poor sisters!" "Don't look at things so darkly," said van Nerekool. "So darkly did you say? Why--the very best thing that can happen is that I shall be transferred to some other place--that I shall be torn out of the sphere of work to which here I have become accustomed." "Well," said Charles, "and suppose that should happen?" "Why, that in itself is already a grave misfortune; you know how expensive moving is in India. Then comes the question, where shall I be sent to? You do not suppose that they will give me a lucrative place. For years and years I shall have to face very serious pecuniary difficulties and, meanwhile, it will be impossible for me to do for my dear family that which it has now so long been my pleasure to do." "Come, come," replied Charles van Nerekool, "cheer up! Even if it comes to the worst, some remedy will be found for that at least--I can promise you so much at least." "But, my dear Charles--that is the smallest misfortune that can happen to me. Every other possibility is simply terrible. Just think--what if they dismissed me from the service altogether?" "Now," said Charles, "you are exaggerating. What in the world have you done to deserve dismissal! On the contrary, you have secured for yourself the esteem and admiration of every honest man." "Honest man!" said Verstork bitterly, "oh you don't know with whom I have to deal!" Van Nerekool's face twitched painfully--he had learned to know something of the man with whom his friend had come into collision. "But," continued he as cheerfully as he could, "but can we not think of some means of warding off the blow? Can we not manage to avoid even the least of these misfortunes?" "Aye," cried Verstork, "that is the very thing I have been cudgelling my brains about?" "Have you any friends at Batavia," asked van Nerekool, "do you know any one there?" "Friends? yes, I know one man, a certain Mr. Reijnaals." "What? Reijnaals--the son-in-law of the member of the Indian Council?" "Yes, that is the man." "Why then he is your man. Come cheer up and let us now together sit down and draw up an accurate account of all that has taken place. That account you will send to Reijnaals. And I also have friends in Batavia who, I think, have some influence. I will write to them. Come let us set to work and begin our battle fearlessly--it is no good moping." So the two friends sat down to their task and when, very late in the afternoon, Edward van Rheijn came home from his office, two letters almost as bulky as parcels, had been sent off by the mail. Van Rheijn looked weary and care-worn. "You are very late," said van Nerekool--"have you been very busy?" "Yes, very busy," was the brief reply. "I am tired out and am going to lie down a bit." "Anything particular?" "No, nothing very particular; but plenty of work." "What about?" asked van Nerekool. "Excuse me," replied van Rheijn putting his fingers to his lips, "they are office-secrets which I am not at liberty to reveal." With these words he involuntarily cast a pitying look on William Verstork. CHAPTER XXII. A SALE AT BANJOE PAHIT. On a Saturday evening, about a fortnight after, a great number of young people were assembled in the open air at the round table before the verandah of Concordia, the club at Santjoemeh. It was a gala-night and consequently all the élite of Santjoemeh had turned out. The gentlemen were for the most part inside the club-house, or strolling about within the grounds, the ladies, either on foot or reclining in elegant carriages, were promenading and enjoying the splendid evening which the full moon, at nine o'clock high up in the heavens, rendered still more delightful, and listening to the excellent music of the band. Within the club-house were seated some elderly ladies and gentlemen, gravely and solemnly playing a game at cards; the young people lounged in the front gallery, while the gayer and more restless spirits among them sought the open air and were, as we said above, grouped round the table in front of the outer gallery. There they found themselves in full view of the ladies whose glances they were glad to receive and ready to repay with interest. "Look yonder," cried one of this group, "there goes pretty little Celine with her mother and her aunt!" "Yes," replied another, "and Hermance on horseback; I think her a much prettier girl." "I say, look out! there comes the Resident's carriage." "Aye, I see with fair Laurentia. She is no doubt coming to take a hand. Just look how attentive van Rheijn is to her. Quite the gallant--he is helping her down--now he offers his arm!" "Of course! the njonja of Kandjeng toean Resident!" "You may say what you like but she is a monstrous fine woman--I envy that fellow Edward!" "I grant you--she is a splendid woman--but she is not a patch upon her daughter." "You are right there," cried another. "By the way where can nonna Anna have got to? One sees her nowhere now." "I am told she is gone on a visit to a friend--they say to spend a few weeks with the wife of the Assistant Resident of Karang Anjer." "What Karang Anjer in Bagelen? That is a deuce of a way off! Is there anything wrong with her?" "Why, don't you know? Van Nerekool has proposed and been refused--and it appears that until Charles can get some other appointment elsewhere, the Resident wants to keep his daughter out of the way." "What do you say?" asked another, "Charles van Nerekool going away--what in the world is that for?" Just then Grenits, who had been sitting some time in the reading-room of the Club, came up to the group of young men with a newspaper in his hand. "Good evening, Theodoor!" was the general cry; for the young merchant was very much liked by all, and exceedingly popular among the members. "Have you got any news that you are walking about with the Santjoemeh Herald?" "Listen to me, gentlemen," said Grenits as he slowly unfolded his paper and began to read: "'Messrs. Gladbach and Co., will sell by public auction on Monday the 24th inst., the whole of the Furniture and Effects belonging to William Verstork, Esq., Controller at Banjoe Pahit. The principal items include: seats, rocking and easy chairs, tables, marble-topped consoles, mirrors, paintings, lamps of all descriptions, terra-cotta statuettes, awnings, screens, bedsteads and bedroom furniture complete--wash-stands, wardrobes, linen-presses, cupboards, kitchen and stable furniture--all in excellent preservation and as good as new. Further a splendid collection of plants such as roses, crotons, ferns, &c., in pots and ornamental tubs. One Bengal cow with calf in full milk, a considerable quantity of poultry; turkeys, geese, ducks, fowls and pigeons. Several carriages all nearly new--a well-trained saddle horse, a pair of iron-grey carriage horses, a pair ditto, black Battakkers. Messrs. Gladbach & Co. are prepared to supply full particulars, catalogues and conditions of sale. Nota Bene. On Monday next from 7.30 to 8.30 carriages will start from the green at Santjoemeh to convey intending purchasers to and from Banjoe Pahit free of cost.'" As Grenits concluded, his hearers looked at one another in some surprise. "Come, that's not a bad idea," said one, "that free conveyance is a capital dodge." "Verstork going to leave!" cried another. "Where is he off to--it seems he is going to sell even his saddle-horse." "He is going to Atjeh," replied Grenits. "He won't want a horse there." "To Atjeh! why that is impossible" cried another, "the army is in charge there, there can be no vacancy in that place for a civilian like Verstork!" "I know nothing at all about it--I can only tell you what William has told me. But, in order that no mistake may arise, allow me to tell you gentlemen that my friend Verstork knows nothing whatever about the free conveyances to Banjoe Pahit, that is entirely my doing, about which I have not consulted him. I alone am responsible for that addition to the advertisement." "I see," laughed one of the company, "you do not want the thing to hang fire." "Very likely not," said Grenits coolly. "But," asked another, "why is Verstork to be removed, and to Atjeh, of all places in the world?" Grenits shrugged his shoulders but made no reply. "Why, don't you know?" cried another, "it is all about that affair with Lim Ho! You have heard of the story of Lim Ho and the pretty baboe Dalima?" "Aye--I know now--when Lim Ho so nobly resisted temptation--at least so says our Surgeon-major." "Yes," added another voice, "and when our friend Grenits boxed somebody's ears." "Ah, yes--Muizenkop did catch it--I say what has come of that business?" "He has brought an action against me," shortly replied Grenits. "Has he? The brute! But how do you know that, Theodoor?" "Why," said Grenits, "he has served me with a summons." "Ai--! that means a few days' free lodging for you, my friend. Well, never mind, we will come and look you up now and then--won't we, gentlemen?" "To be sure we will," was the general chorus. "Time enough to think of that," said Grenits. "If I am locked up I shall expect to see you, my friends. But just at present we have something more serious to attend to. About that sale--I invite you all to put in an appearance on Monday next." "That Grenits always has an eye to business," said one of the young men with a laugh. "Gentlemen," continued Theodoor most gravely, "this is no joking matter. It concerns an innocent man who hitherto has maintained a mother and sisters entirely dependent upon his aid--and the question is whether he will, in the future, be able to continue to give them that assistance?" "Oh, is that it!" was the cry all round, "then we shall all be there--you may depend upon us!" "Yes, you may depend upon every one of us!" "Thank you," said Grenits, "that's a bargain." Yes! William Verstork was removed from Banjoe Pahit and was to be sent to Atjeh! The detailed report which he had dispatched to Reijnaal had been of no avail. He might perhaps have over-estimated his friend's influence--or, perhaps, that friend did not much like to meddle in the matter; at all events nothing came of Verstork's appeal. The letters also which van Nerekool had written to Batavia led to nothing. He did receive a kind of answer; but they were only a few vague and half intelligible sentences. What really happened in Batavia was this. On a certain Friday--the usual day on which the Council of India meet--the assembled members were greatly surprised at seeing the Governor General suddenly appear in their midst, a thing which very seldom happened. "Gentlemen," he said, after the customary ceremonial greetings had been exchanged, "Gentlemen, a very serious complaint against a first-class Controller has been forwarded to me by the Resident at Santjoemeh. I have also received a document from the subordinate officer, containing his defence to the charges made by his superior. This document directly contradicts many of the Resident's statements, and it is for that reason that I am desirous of having the advantage of your opinion. Now the Resident at Santjoemeh is a most zealous and meritorious public servant, thoroughly devoted to his country's interests; but it must be said that in the discharge of his duties, and especially in his conduct towards his subordinates, he is frequently too absolute and peremptory, and allows his feelings to get the better of him. I must, at the same time, however, confess that even thus he never loses sight of the common-weal. Such being the case in this matter also, it would not have been difficult for me, I think, so to settle the dispute as to satisfy both parties without in any way interfering with the superior officer's authority. Unfortunately, however, the question is a more complicated one. The difference between the Resident and his Controller is one which seems to implicate the opium-farmer at Santjoemeh, and which threatens to bring us into conflict with him. I think indeed I may go a step further, and that I am justified in saying that a strict investigation, such as the controller insists upon, would bring to light certain transactions which would compel us altogether to exclude the present farmer Lim Yang Bing from the approaching contest for the opium monopoly. Now, in strict justice, that exclusion would no doubt be highly desirable; but we must not lose sight of the fact that this Lim Yang Bing is the wealthiest Chinaman in Santjoemeh, that he stands at the head of the most considerable company in that district, and that he thus exercises almost absolute control over his countrymen there. The consequence, therefore, of excluding him from the coming opium competition, would be a very considerable fall in the amount which, at present, it is expected to realise. And that, in days like the present!--Yes, gentlemen, I repeat it, at a time like the present!--Just now I received a telegram in cypher from the Hague, which tells me that the estimate of the Colonial Secretary has found no favour in our house of Representatives; because it is thought that his estimate is much too low, and that expenses have not been sufficiently kept down. That telegram further states that one of you gentlemen will most probably soon be invited to take the place of our present Colonial Secretary. Well--whoever he may be, I cannot say that I envy him the distinction. It is quite certain, however, that the first thing he will be expected to do, is to drive up the revenue to as high a figure as possible, and, for that purpose, the opium monopoly, in spite of what men may think or say about it, seems to me to be the only available means. In order, therefore, not to make the task of the future minister more difficult than it must of necessity be, it is my opinion that it would be good policy just at present to protect the opium farmer. The Resident of Santjoemeh tells me that the withdrawal of Lim Yang Bing from the competition will make a difference in the revenue of at least six or seven hundred thousand guilders." At the mention of these figures, the eyes of the youngest member of the Council sparkled with unwonted fire, and, in his zeal for the public exchequer, forgetting the usual etiquette, he interrupted the Governor General before the latter had quite finished his speech. "With your Excellency's leave," said he, jumping up from his seat with much animation, "I would remark, and I feel confident that, in what I am about to say, I shall but utter the sentiments of all my colleagues, that under circumstances like the present, we ought not to hesitate to adopt any measures which may serve to make the finances of the country correspond to the demands of the times. Any proposal which may promote such equilibrium cannot fail of ready acceptance from a board such as ours, which, inspired by the highest patriotic feelings, is ever prepared to make any sacrifices for the welfare of Holland." The appeal was so shameless that its very grossness insured its success. The members of the Council bowed their heads in acquiescence, and the lips, which could have uttered such terrible truths, under the influence, doubtless, of the enervating effect of the tropical sun, now merely opened sleepily to utter an obsequious: "Yes, your Excellency!" The Governor General, who at once perceived that he had gained his point, then said with a sigh: "In that case my course with the Controller is clear. I am much obliged to you, gentlemen, for your counsel." The next moment the drum was rolling at the main guard, and the men turned out to present arms to the king's representative as he drove away to his palace on the Koningsplein, well satisfied, no doubt, that he had performed a signal service to his country, if not to humanity at large. In four days' time William Verstork received the order of his removal to Atjeh, and, what was perhaps more galling still, along with it a letter from the Director of the Home Department, in which that official expressed the hope that, in his capacity of Controller, he would make the best use of his undoubted abilities and of his great knowledge of the native character to aid and assist the military authorities in their arduous task of pacifying the population. And, the director went on to say: "Allow me also to cherish the expectation that, in the future, you will exhibit a greater amount of tact; and to suggest that you should show more deference and respect to your superiors; for, after this plain warning, you can expect no further indulgence." "Well, Charles," cried Verstork, as he flung the letter upon the table, "what do you think of that?" "I think it is a burning shame!" replied van Nerekool, his voice trembling with indignation. "You see, my dear fellow," continued Verstork, "this is the most favourable result we could anticipate. Removed to Atjeh! that is to say struck off from the list of the Home Department of Java and Madura. It is simply a degradation. Are these the principles which animate our rulers? The state of society out here is rotten--rotten to the core!" "No, no!" cried van Nerekool, with animation, "don't say that--there is one part of that society which is sound and undefiled, and which stands high above the tricks and paltry intrigues of the ruling powers--and that is the judicature. The power of the law will succeed in bridling and subduing the monster of injustice and tyranny." Charles van Nerekool spoke these words with all the enthusiasm of truth--he was fully persuaded of the truth of his assertion. Verstork looked at his friend and a bitter smile came over his troubled countenance. He did not, however, say a single word, he would not disturb the day-dream of his friend--the future, he knew, would soon enough dissipate his fond illusions. Banjoe Pahit, that quiet and secluded dessa, was, on Monday morning, the scene of the greatest excitement. At the gate of the Controller's house a Javanese stood striking measured blows on the gong, and that unwonted noise brought the entire population around him. Within the house, Grenits, Grashuis, and van Nerekool were busily employed helping Verstork to set out the furniture, which, presently, was to be offered for sale, to the best advantage. In one place a writing-desk had to be placed in a more prominent position--in another a cupboard or table had to be re-arranged. Pictures also and statuettes had to be placed in the most favourable light; for Grenits, with the true eye of a commercial man, knew that, next to advertising, a tasteful exhibition of the articles would attract the attention of the buyers. At length all was considered in readiness, and it was with a kind of mournful satisfaction that the friends walked through the apartments, surveying and admiring the arrangement in which they had borne a principal share. In the back galleries especially, where the glass, the crystal and the dinner-services were displayed, their finishing touches had been remarkably successful. Everything looked so neat, and in such perfect order, that Grenits could not help exclaiming: "No one would think that these are bachelor's quarters! William, I can promise you an excellent sale." Meanwhile the gong kept on clanging incessantly. Just then a couple of carriages came rolling up to the Controller's house. Out of one of these stepped the Regent of Santjoemeh, and he at once walked up to the European gentlemen. After the customary salutations: "Well, Radhen Mas Toemenggoeng," said Grashuis hugely pleased at seeing the Javanese chief arriving thus early, "you are coming, I hope, to buy a good lot!" "Perhaps, sir, but money is scarce," replied the Regent with a smile. "Never mind that, Radhen Mas," laughed Grenits, "you can buy on tick." The cautious old chief smiled and shook his head, but had no time to reply; for by this time the second conveyance, a capacious drag, had discharged its load which consisted of a member of the firm of Gladbach and Co. and the whole of his staff of clerks, &c. The agent walked up to Verstork, shook hands with him and whispered: "Very bad news, Controller!" "What is the matter?" asked Verstork. "The Chinamen at Santjoemeh have been ordered not to come to your sale." "Who gave that order?" "I don't know," replied the agent shrugging his shoulders. This was bad news indeed; for the Chinamen, if they happen to be well disposed towards the owner, are generally very brisk bidders. Their abstention indeed threatened to be very disastrous. Verstork heaved a deep sigh as he ran his eye over his possessions which now bid fair to go for an old song. He sighed, not because he particularly regretted the probable loss; but at the thought of his dear ones yonder who-- But fortunately he had no time for indulging in melancholy forebodings, for the carriages now succeeded one another with amazing rapidity. Drags, landaus, waggonettes, dog-carts, and spring-carts, came flying up the drive and began setting down their loads at the entrance of the Controller's house. A great number of horsemen too and pedestrians from the estates round about, began to flock in; and the oppassers on duty found it as much as they could do to keep the carriages in line, to put up the saddle-horses and to usher the gentlemen into the house. All ranks of European society in Java were there represented; landowners, tenants, coffee planters, rice-planters, sugar and indigo manufacturers, merchants, insurance agents, shipping agents, solicitors, notaries, barristers, judges, officers of the Army and Navy, in fact it seemed as if the whole of Santjoemeh had migrated bodily to Banjoe Pahit. In the capital all business was at a standstill; there was not a single conveyance, not a single spring-cart or carriage to be got there. The Resident van Gulpendam noticed that these vehicles did not occupy their usual stands, and was told that they were all off to Banjoe Pahit. He smiled at the information; but it was on the wrong side of his mouth. Still the gong went on giving forth its harsh discordant sounds. The employés of the Home office and its clerks and writers, who were employed in the Residential office, were conspicuous by their absence. Not one of them had been able to get leave for an excursion to Banjoe Pahit. The Javanese population, in their usual retiring way, timidly crowded round the animated scene. These poor people most assuredly did not come to buy, they were impelled by curiosity just to get a peep at the interior of a European's dwelling house. Treêng, treêng went the gong incessantly. When the company had pretty well assembled, and compliments had been duly exchanged, Verstork left the place. He could not bear to be present and see his household gods dispersed. So he went to the Mohammedan priest, with whom he had some matters to settle before he left the dessa, and after the sale was over he purposed to return to Santjoemeh with van Nerekool, Grashuis and Grenits.-- No sooner had he left, than the representative of Gladbach & Co. whispered a few words to the auctioneer. The latter made a sign to one of his servants. Hereupon the gong began to clash more horribly than before, a shower of blows fell on the metal disc. This infernal din lasted for a space of ten minutes, and then suddenly ceased altogether. The proceedings now began. The sale was opened in the front gallery in which a very fine collection of flowers in ornamental pots and tubs, were tastefully arranged in groups of a dozen, on the steps which led up to the verandah. These were the first lots to be disposed of. "Twelve pots of flowers!" began the auctioneer, "who will make a bid for them?" "One guilder!" cried someone in the crowd. "One guilder bid, one guilder!" cried the auctioneer in the usual drawl. "One and a half!" "One and a half," repeated the auctioneer. "Two guilders! Three guilders! Four guilders! Five guilders!" came the bids in quick succession. "Five guilders! Five guilders bid!" cried the auctioneer, "Who bids higher? Five guilders are bid," drawled the auctioneer, as he turned his head and stared hard at the last bidder but one. "Eight guilders!" cried the latter. "Eight guilders!" cried the echo, "who bids higher?" Then the fire opened again. "And a quarter," cried a voice. "Eight and a half!" "Eight three quarters!" "Nine guilders!" "Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen!" "Thirteen guilders," cried the auctioneer, "who bids more than thirteen?" "I wouldn't mind," cried a voice, "if I only knew how to get those confounded pots home to Santjoemeh." "Never mind that," shouted another, "I will take them for you in my cart." "Thirteen, twice!" said the auctioneer. "Fourteen, fifteen," went the bids. "Fifteen!--once!" said the auctioneer. "Twenty guilders!" shouted a voice which rang out above all the noise. "A fine bid," murmured Grenits. "Twenty guilders, once--Twenty, twice--Twenty for the third and last time!" Bang! down came the hammer. "Who is the buyer?" asked the clerk. "I am," replied an officer. He was an elderly man--a first Lieutenant of Infantry. "Who is I?" asked the auctioneer from his perch. "I, Langeveld, first Lieutenant of Infantry." "Mr. Langeveld, do you pay cash down?" asked the auctioneer. "Cash down?" asked the officer, quite surprised, "what do you mean? Your office always gives three months' credit." "Only to those whose pay is above two hundred and fifty guilders," said the man. "Two hundred and fifty guilders? Whose order is that?" "It is the order of the superintendent of sales at Santjoemeh," replied the auctioneer. "The Resident," muttered van Nerekool, "a most infamous trick!" "Do you pay ready money? No?" continued the auctioneer, "then you will have to find some security, or else the lot will have to be put up again." The officer, who was a man of unblemished name and character, turned fiery red at this wanton and unexpected insult. "Lieutenant Langeveld, I will be your security!" cried van Nerekool. The officer bowed his thanks. The second lot of flowers, however, which was much finer than the first, did not fetch a rix-dollar. The shameful dodge at headquarters evidently had its effect on the spirits of the buyers. Grenits saw the drift of all this in a moment. He held a hasty consultation with van Nerekool and a few landowners who were standing by him. Just as the third dozen of pots were being put up, a burly, broad-shouldered gentleman cried out: "A word with you, Mr. Auctioneer. A disgraceful trick is being played here--I never saw such a dirty thing done before--a trick which Mr. van Nerekool, Mr. Grenits and myself are determined to frustrate. For every gentleman who wishes to buy at this sale, and who may happen to fall under this novel condition of having to pay ready money, we will stand security." "Bravo! bravo!" was the general shout. "Does that satisfy you, Mr. Auctioneer?" The man nodded assent. He could not do otherwise. This incident served to rouse a general enthusiasm; the third lot of flowers brought eighty guilders; the last no less a sum than two hundred and fifty. True it is that before this last lot was put up Grenits had cried: "Crotons! magnificent crotons! The Adal-adal! (Croton Tiglium); the Camilla (Rothlera tinctoria); the Kamillakkian (Croton Corylifolius) and the wax-bearing Croton (Croton sebiferus)! Who will bid for them? I bid sixty guilders!" A cheer followed his words; the game went on merrily--seventy--eighty--ninety guilders! Higher and higher still went the bids, until the two hundred and fifty guilders were reached. The lucky man who secured the lot received quite an ovation, just as if he had drawn the first prize in the State lottery. That set the ball a-rolling. Chairs, tables, mats, lamps, wardrobes, mirrors, pictures, all went for the same fabulous prices. At last it became a mad charge in which every one seemed bent on securing something, no matter at what cost. Long faces were drawn indeed; but it was not because the bids were too high but because the prices were wholly out of the reach of some pockets. It was in the back gallery, however, that the excitement rose to its highest pitch. "Twelve liqueur glasses!" shouted the auctioneer. They were very ordinary little glasses--in Holland they might be worth a penny a-piece--in India they might cost perhaps five or six pence. "Twelve liqueur glasses!" again shouted the man. "Out of which the bitters taste remarkably good!" cried Grashuis, "I know that by experience." "We might try some," cried a voice; "yonder in that stand I see a decanter of bitters." A cheer followed this proposal--a servant was already busy pouring out the liqueur. "What kind of bitters is that?" "Maagdbitter," said a sienjo. "Pahit prawan," translated an interpreter. A thundering hurrah greeted that splendid attempt at translation. "I say, Kees, you must be made interpreter--sworn interpreter!" shouted one of the bystanders. "Here's to you; I drink your health in pahit prawan!" "One rixdollar!" cried Grenits. "Three! Four! Five! Six! came the bids, in rapid succession. The auctioneer could not turn his head fast enough to catch the eye of the bidders. "Six!" at length he managed to exclaim. "Seven! Eight!--" "Ten!" cried Grenits. "Ten offered," droned the auctioneer with the utmost indifference. This was not the first strange scene he had witnessed in his profession. "Ten!" cried he, "won't any gentleman go higher than ten." "Come, come, that is pretty fair," said a voice. "Ten once, ten twice, ten for the third and last time!" Bang! down came the hammer. "An expensive set," grumbled some one in the crowd, "a hundred and twenty guilders--the bitters must be good at that price." "Especially pahit prawan!" "Well, give us another glass." The last lot put up for sale--a gajoeng, that is a simple cocoa-nut vessel with a handle used for throwing water over the body in the bath, fetched five and twenty guilders. The friends of Verstork might well congratulate each other. They had worked to some purpose. When half an hour later the clerk posted up the total receipts, the house very nearly came down with the deafening cheers. "Nine thousand seven hundred and forty guilders!" exclaimed Verstork, when he heard the result of the sale; "why, the whole kit was not worth three thousand. Thanks, many thanks, my friends." He shook hands warmly with van Nerekool, with Grashuis, with van Beneden and with Grenits. "You have saved me many an hour of dreadful anxiety," he whispered to them. Eight days after, the Controller was standing, in excellent spirits, on the deck of the Tamborah which was to convey him to his new abode. Full of courage and full of hope, he took leave of the trusty friends who accompanied him to the steamer. "Once again," he cried to them from the deck, "thanks, a thousand thanks!" Grenits had helped him to realise as profitably as possible the proceeds of the sale, and when he reached Batavia he had sent a considerable portion of the money to his mother, recommending her to be very careful of it, as he might most probably be obliged, in consequence of his removal from Banjoe Pahit, to diminish the amount of his monthly remittances. When the Tambora was nearly on the horizon there were still handkerchiefs waving farewell to him from the shore-boat. Verstork still kept on deck gazing at the shore. "Fine noble fellows," he muttered as he wiped away a tear. CHAPTER XXIII. THE COURT ADJOURNED. On a certain day, not very long after the events narrated in the former chapters, a carriage drew up before the pandoppo of the Regent's house situated on the green of Santjoemeh, where the members of the judicial bench of that district used to hold their court. Out of the carriage there stepped a gentleman who looked with some surprise at the concourse of people which had gathered around the house; but who, nevertheless, with calm and dignified air, walked up the steps which led to the interior. That gentleman was Mr. Zuidhoorn, the president of the district-court, who, on the day appointed, had come to open the session. The crowd assembled in front of the Regent's pandoppo consisted chiefly of Javanese, a circumstance which could not but attract the notice of the judicial functionary, inasmuch as the native population, which was formerly so fond of frequenting the courts held under the Wariengien trees of the village green by its native chiefs, now shows the greatest disinclination to enter the Dutch courts of justice. As a rule, the Javanese is never seen there except he be fettered or under the escort of a couple of policemen--that is to say, either as a prisoner, as a criminal, or as a witness. Among the crowd some Chinamen also were conspicuous, and all were evidently awaiting with anxiety an event of no common interest. "What is the meaning of this concourse, Mr. Thomasz?" asked Mr. Zuidhoorn of the deputy-recorder, whom he met as he entered the pandoppo. The latter, who was a half-caste, looked up at his chief with a puzzled expression of countenance. "You stare at me very strangely," continued Mr. Zuidhoorn. "What can have brought all this crowd of people together?" "They are curious, I suppose, to know," replied the recorder, not without hesitation, "how it will end." "How will what end?" "Well, sir, what will be the result of the session." "The session?" repeated Mr. Zuidhoorn, surprised in his turn, "is there anything very remarkable about it?" The recorder evidently felt very ill at ease. "Sir," he stammered, "you seem not to know what has taken place." "No, I don't," replied Mr. Zuidhoorn, "what is the matter?" Mr. Thomasz was getting more and more nervous. His face, which was very sallow, began to assume a greenish yellow complexion. Mr. Zuidhoorn seeing the man's confusion cried out: "Speak up for goodness sake, man, speak up!" "The native members--of the council, sir--have received a letter from the Resident--" he managed to stammer. "A letter--!" exclaimed Mr. Zuidhoorn--"from the Resident! What in the world about?" "It was a letter, sir, forbidding them to attend this session." "Forbidding them to attend!" exclaimed Mr. Zuidhoorn, now fairly astonished. "Why, Mr. Thomasz, have you taken leave of your senses?" "No, sir, indeed I have not," replied the recorder with a painful smile. "You question me and I am obliged to answer--and further--" "Well, what else? Out with it!" "The Chinese assessors and the head-djaksa have received similar communications--so that--" "So that what?" cried the president impatiently. "So that there will be no court held to-day since you will be the only member present." "Is it possible?" exclaimed the president. "I tell you what, Mr. Thomasz, my carriage is still at the door, you jump into it and drive off at once to all the native members, and also to the Chinese assessors, and to the djaksa, and tell them that I order them to come here without delay. To-day is the assize-day, and I am determined that the cases shall be heard." "I will do as you bid," replied the recorder. "You are my superior officer." "Very good--make haste." As soon as the man had left, Mr. Zuidhoorn began pacing up and down the pandoppo in great excitement. "It is a monstrous thing!" cried he to himself, "I could not--I dared not--suppose that they would carry matters so far! Yet I ought to have foreseen something of the kind! Yes--I am a great fool--why! when a few weeks ago I received a request from the Resident to alter the order of the cases, a request with which I refused to comply, then I suspected that there was some scheme on foot; but that they would have adopted so arbitrary a course as this! A few days ago even, when I received a written statement from the Resident informing me that I was no longer competent to preside over the court, because I had obtained leave of absence, even then I could not suppose that they would have recourse to so high-handed an infraction of the law. Yesterday the Resident informed me by word of mouth that he intended to avail himself of the right of presiding in person; but I made no reply, for I looked upon his words as a merely formal notice, and never dreamt that anyone could be foolish enough to tamper so offensively with the regulations of the court. Yes! for a most stupid thing it is thus to enforce an old and obsolete rule, which was made when, as yet, there was no idea of any individual being specially appointed as President of the Sessions. But--what can be the drift of all this? What can it all mean?" he asked himself as he paced up and down. His eye lit upon the charge-sheet which the recorder had left lying on the green-baize cover of the table. He took it up and began to read out the cases inscribed upon it, making his remarks upon them as he went on. "M`Bok Bardjo: accused of secretly conveying away coffee! Poor people who are compelled to plant coffee, and are not allowed to drink it; but are obliged to put up with a wretched decoction of coffee-leaves! "Bariedin: charged with wearing in public a civilian's cap--Ridiculous! Those fellows in the Home Department do make fools of themselves--such a trifle is high treason in their eyes. "Sarina: charged with deserting her infant child--that's bad--not so bad however as flinging the poor little thing into the river or the canal as they generally do at home in such cases. "Pak Ardjan: accused--of--opium--smuggling--and wounding--a policeman! Now I think I am coming to it--now a light dawns in upon me; and the next case? "Ardjan: accused--of--opium--smuggling! Ardjan, the future husband of the baboe Dalima!" These two last cases Mr. Zuidhoorn had read so slowly and so deliberately that he seemed almost to spell every syllable; then, for a while, he stood lost in thought, while he put his finger to his forehead. "How could I have forgotten that? And van Nerekool, who so recently talked the whole of this business over with me!--And--the day after to-morrow I must be off to Holland! "Well, no matter, those cases must be disposed of to-day, and they shall be disposed of at any price! I shall see about that!" Yes, the judge would see; but not in the sense in which he meant it; he would see that the court was not to sit at all that day. When he had got thus far in his soliloquy, the door opened, and the Regent of Santjoemeh appeared, and with him came one of the most considerable of the native chiefs of the Residence, Radhen Ngahebi Wirio Kesoemo. They were both members of the court, and it was their turn to be in attendance. They were accompanied by the panghoeloe or priest, carrying the inevitable Koran in his hand. Both the former dignitaries confirmed the statement of the deputy-recorder, and told Mr. Zuidhoorn that the Resident had expressly forbidden them to attend the court on that day. "But," they continued, "since the Kandjeng toean judge has summoned us, we feel it our duty to obey his commands." "But," asked the president, "what reason does the Resident give for this prohibition?" The Regent merely shrugged his shoulders and, very prudently, made no reply. Radhen Ngahebi however said: "Yesterday I called upon the Resident, and then the Kandjeng toean informed me that, after having got leave of absence, you were no longer qualified to take the chair at the sessions; and that it was for that reason he had sent the letter." Mr. Zuidhoorn smiled contemptuously; but, in the presence of natives, he refrained from uttering a single word which might have even a semblance of questioning the authority of the highest official who was the representative of the Dutch power in Santjoemeh. Indeed he scarcely had time to speak, for very soon after the Javanese chiefs and the Chinese assessors also entered the pandoppo. They very cautiously and with infinite circumlocution informed the toean lakkel, thus they pronounced the word "rakker" which signifies judge, that they were not to blame for arriving so late. At length the chief djaksa appeared. He made a ceremonious bow to the chairman and to the other members of the court and said, that he had that very morning been summoned into the presence of the Resident, and that he had, from his lips, received a peremptory order not to attend the court. "However," he continued, "in my capacity of native judge I am under your immediate authority, and I have come to inquire how you wish me to act in this matter." As he spoke he made another deep bow to his superior officer. "Djaksa," replied Mr. Zuidhoorn, "I have no commands whatever to give you. You occupy so high a position that I must leave you to judge for yourself what course you had better pursue. As far as I am concerned, I have most positively made up my mind to carry on the business of the court to-day; and, seeing that our number is now complete, I intend to open the proceedings at once. Gentlemen, please to take your seats." Scarcely, however, had they done so, and just as Mr. Zuidhoorn was in the act of bringing down his presidential hammer and declaring the sessions opened, the back door of the pandoppo was thrown open and the private secretary of the Resident appeared on the threshold. He was in official costume and accompanied by a posse of policemen, one of whom held aloft behind him the Resident's unopened umbrella, in token that the secretary appeared as representative of his chief. Without deigning to offer any greeting, the secretary began: "You, Radhen Mas Toemenggoeng Pringgoe Kesoemo, and you, Radhen Ngahebi Wirio Kesoemo, and you, Panghoeloe Mas Ali Ibrahim, and you, Ong Ang Thay, and Kwee Lie Liang--you have, as members, as priest, and as assessors of this court of justice, received a written order from the Kandjeng toean Resident distinctly forbidding you to attend here on this day. The Kandjeng toean Resident now sends me to inquire what can have induced you to commit so grave an offence as knowingly and deliberately to disobey the command of him who is the direct representative of the Kandjeng toean Governor General, who again in Batavia stands in the place of the Kandjeng toean Radja dari Tana Nederland dan Hindia? Speak, I am prepared to hear what explanation you have to offer for conduct so insubordinate? Be well assured that whatever may be your excuse, the Kandjeng toean Resident will give it his calm and impartial consideration." The deepest silence succeeded this startling address. With the exception of the chairman, the men assembled there seemed annihilated by the secretary's words, they hardly dared to draw a breath, they scarcely ventured to look at one another. They wished the ground would open and swallow them up. How could they have had the audacity of daring to disregard the express command of the Mighty Lord? Their disobedience was indeed flagrant! Would the Kandjeng toean ever forgive them for it? Such were the thoughts which passed through the brains of the fearless and independent judges who were considered fit and proper persons impartially to administer justice to their countrymen. Mr. Zuidhoorn--who thoroughly knew the Javanese character and who had learned to fathom the abject and cringing servility of the native chiefs towards their Dutch masters--Mr. Zuidhoorn, who so often had compared them with the dog that licks the hand of the man that strikes him--looked with compassion on the poor creatures that showed such abject cowardice even when sitting in the very court to which they had been summoned to discharge duties, which, above all other duties, demand perfect fearlessness and independence. This servility, indeed, could hardly be laid to their charge; it was the natural result of the long system of extortion and bullying to which their race had been subjected. Once again the secretary very impatiently asked: "Radhen Mas Toemenggoeng and Radhen Ngahebi, I am still awaiting the answer I am to carry to the Kandjeng toean Resident!" After having looked round and waited a while to see whether any of the chiefs thus addressed would attempt to say anything in justification, Mr. Zuidhoorn, in a most dignified and impressive manner said: "An answer, Mr. Secretary, which I will take upon myself to give you. I, in my capacity of President of this court of Santjoemeh, to whom the members, the priest and the assessors, in all matters relating to this court, are directly subordinate, I, this morning, sent to them my peremptory orders to attend here. The said members and assessors, therefore, are in no wise to blame--they have merely, in this matter, obeyed the commands which I, their superior officer, have issued to them. The entire responsibility rests upon me. Be kind enough, Mr. Secretary, to communicate this my reply to the Resident; and do not, by your presence, any further delay the business of this court." "Mr. Zuidhoorn, after leave of absence has been granted you, you have no right whatever to occupy the chair. I enter my protest against the course of action you have seen fit to adopt; and I call upon you now to resign your place to the Resident who intends this day to preside in person." "Mr. Secretary," replied Mr. Zuidhoorn with the utmost calmness, "it is not my intention to enter into any argument with you about my rights. You will inform the Resident that I shall not resign my seat; and that I intend, to the last moment, to carry out conscientiously the duties of my office. Again I request you to withdraw, in order that the court may proceed with the business it has before it." "Mr. Zuidhoorn!" cried the secretary, in a threatening tone of voice, "mind what you are about!" "The entire responsibility rests upon my shoulders, Mr. Secretary. Usher, clear the court, and see that it be not further disturbed!" Mr. van Gulpendam flew into a foaming rage when he received the message. In a towering passion he strode up and down the front-gallery of the Residence, the secretary striving like a dog to keep up with him, which his corpulence however would hardly allow him to do. "What insolence!" shouted the great man, "what insolence! He shall pay for it! But--what to do now? Meanwhile the trials are going on, and we shall have an acquittal no doubt. Those law chaps are capable of anything! I know what I shall do--a company of soldiers! I shall have them driven out of the place at the point of the bayonet like so many sea-mews!" He rushed into his office--forgetting, in his anger, that such Napoleonic measures are not exactly suited to the taste of the Dutch people--to send a note to the officer in command of the troops requesting him to come to him at once. As soon as he had written his precious epistle he bellowed out "Oppas! Oppas!!" in tones so stentorian that all the policemen and the whole staff of servants on the premises came flying to the spot, thinking that some dreadful accident had happened. Even the sentries, who were on duty, heroically brought their muskets to the charge against some imaginary foe; and, in this martial attitude, resolutely stood awaiting the things which might happen. Fair Laurentia was at the time very busy in the pandoppo discussing with her kokkie the mysteries of a fricasseed chicken. She also started up and came flying into the office while, with trembling hand, she sought to adjust her kabaja. "What is the matter? What is the matter?" she cried. But, before the Resident had time to reply, and before he had despatched his note to the officer in command of the garrison, the deputy-recorder walked up the steps of the gallery. The moment he saw him, van Gulpendam knew that he was the bearer of some tidings, and, not able to restrain his impatience, he ran to meet him, impetuously crying out, "What is the matter, Mr. Thomasz?" "Resident, I have come to inform you that the court has risen and stands adjourned for a week." "What? adjourned? After what my secretary told me? Have the members refused to sit? Splendid fellows those natives!" "No, no, Resident, by your leave--the chiefs did not refuse at all." "Didn't they? Then how did it come about?" "I will tell you, Resident. When Mr. Zuidhoorn was about to open the proceedings and when he spoke the words: 'Usher, clear the court and see that it be not further disturbed,' he found that the usher had disappeared altogether." "The usher disappeared?" "Yes, Resident, he had got out of the way." Van Gulpendam's face beamed with satisfaction. "But," said he, "that would hardly put a stop to the proceedings?" The secretary here interposed and said: "As I was leaving the court I ordered the usher to write, from my dictation, a paper summoning Mr. Zuidhoorn and all the members of the court to clear out of the premises." "Sharp practice that!" remarked van Gulpendam. "Do you not approve of my conduct, Resident?" "Of course, most certainly I do; but what took place next?" "The poor devil of an usher was so utterly dumfoundered that he could not hold a pen, and it was no use therefore to dictate anything to him. I then gave him the message to deliver verbally." "Yes--and then?" asked van Gulpendam. "Then I came away to tell you." "But I suppose," continued van Gulpendam--"you, Mr. Thomasz, will be able to tell us what happened?" "When the usher again entered the court," resumed the deputy-recorder, "he stammered forth a few incoherent and utterly unintelligible words, to which Mr. Zuidhoorn did not pay the slightest heed. He brought his hammer down, declared the session open, and turned to the chief djaksa to request him to read out the first charge." "What case was it, Mr. Thomasz?" asked van Gulpendam with some curiosity. "Oh, it was some case of coffee-stealing, sir, some old woman--" "Oh yes, all right, go on!" "Yes," continued the deputy-recorder, "Mr. Zuidhoorn might well look--and he did open his eyes uncommonly wide, for the chief djaksa, who, a moment or two before, was sitting by his side close to him,--he too had vanished." "Vanished?" Mr. van Gulpendam burst out laughing. "I can picture to myself Mr. Zuidhoorn's face!" he cried. "Mr. Thomasz, you are a capital story-teller. Do go on--run off the log-line." The deputy-recorder continued: "They looked high and low for the djaksa; but he could not be found. So one of the vice-djaksas had to be summoned. It was a curious thing however, that, although a few minutes before two or three were present in the pandoppo, they now had the greatest trouble to lay hands on a single one." "Oh!" interrupted van Gulpendam, "they managed to get one in tow at last?" "Yes, Resident." "What a pity!" The exclamation escaped from the Resident's lips in spite of himself. "There was no harm done, however," continued Mr. Thomasz. "How so? Go on with your tale." "Well, sir, when Mr. Zuidhoorn told the vice-djaksa that he called upon him to fill the place of the absent official, the poor fellow most suddenly was seized with a violent fit of colic!" "A fit of colic!" laughed van Gulpendam. "What fun, what fun!" "Yes, and so severe was the poor fellow's attack that he made the most extraordinary grimaces--in fact it literally doubled him up." "Oh how rich--how very rich!" cried van Gulpendam still laughing immoderately. "And, at length--with both hands to his stomach--was compelled to rush out of the room." "With both hands!" shouted van Gulpendam, "come anchor, anchor! Thomasz, you will be the death of me." The deputy-recorder looked around with much gravity--never before in all his official career had he had such success as a low comedian, and, thinking he might venture further, he resumed: "Aye--but--Resident, that was not the funniest part of it." "Not? well give way--full speed ahead!" "No, Resident, the funniest part of the whole business was Mr. Zuidhoorn's face. That's what you ought to have seen. He sat there, with his mouth wide open, scowling over his spectacles which hung down low on his nose, after the retreating figure of the colic-stricken djaksa; and, in his loose gown, he looked for all the world like an old gingham umbrella in a cover much too big for it." "That will do! that will do! Mr. Thomasz," grinned van Gulpendam, "you have told your story splendidly!" The deputy-recorder made a low bow in acknowledgment of the compliment. "And what happened next?" "Why then, Resident, nothing could happen--there was no djaksa, no usher of the court--so the session could not go on. The members present were smiling and were beginning to look at their watches; evidently they had had quite enough of sitting there to no purpose. So Mr. Zuidhoorn had no option--he brought down his hammer and adjourned the court for a week. Thereupon I hurried off at once to bring you the news." "And capitally you have done it, Mr. Thomasz! I am much obliged to you--at the proper time I will repay your zeal." As soon as the deputy-recorder had left, van Gulpendam turned to his secretary who, with folded arms, had stood listening to the conversation. "Our object, you see, has been attained--now to take advantage of the fair tide. You must take care that all the documents are ready in good time--next week I purpose to take the chair myself at the assizes." "Everything shall be in readiness, sir," replied the secretary; "but will you allow me to make one remark?" "By all means, secretary--fire away!" "The whole of this business seems to me to be a very serious game." "How so?" exclaimed van Gulpendam, "do you think I am afraid of burning my hands in cold water?" "What I mean, Resident, is this. It is a very lucky chance indeed that Mr. Zuidhoorn happened to disregard your injunction and that he was thus compelled to adjourn the court for another week." "Well!" cried van Gulpendam impatiently, "cut it short." "If he had not done so," continued the secretary, "you would this day have presided--would you not?" "Certainly, and then we should have settled matters by this time." The secretary scratched his ear. "Resident," said he thoughtfully, "are you sure of Mr. Meidema?" "Sure of Meidema? what has he to do with it?" "The opium-haul they made at Moeara Tjatjing," continued the secretary, "is a pretty valuable one. I fancy that Meidema is rather looking forward to reaping some benefit from the confiscation which must follow the sentence of the court." "Has he told you so? Has he given you any hint to that effect?" "Not exactly, Resident. But you must remember Mr. Meidema has a large family to provide for; and it is whispered in Santjoemeh that he finds some difficulty in making both ends meet. Indeed it would not surprise me to hear that he is in debt. So, you see, a little windfall of that kind would come in very handy." "But," said van Gulpendam "he has no right to any such thing--the law forbids it." "You are quite right, Resident, nothing ever escapes your eagle eye; but yet--'il y a des accommodements avec le ciel,' and therefore--" "But how?" asked van Gulpendam testily. "Look you, Resident, that I can't tell you--I don't know; but I fancy some loophole could be found. In this particular case, for instance, baboe Dalima is the real discoverer. Now supposing she, in order to save her Ardjan, should hand over her share or part of it--and remember she can have not the slightest idea of its value--to a third party?" For a moment or two the Resident reflected, then with a smile he turned to his secretary and said: "Well--even if that were so--that does not explain to me why I should distrust Mr. Meidema. As far as I can see, any hope of sharing in the profits of the confiscated tjandoe would make him as pliable as spun yarn." "It is very possible, Resident, your judgment is seldom at fault; but you must not lose sight of the 23rd clause of the opium-law. For myself, I would not mind swearing that Mr. Meidema is shaping his course with his eye on that particular clause. In the case which he, as head of the local police, has drawn up, you will notice that though he states the opium to have been found not far from the prisoner Ardjan, yet he takes care to add that the Javanese came ashore in a small surf-boat which could not possibly have conveyed so large a quantity, and which, moreover, was dashed to pieces by the waves; whereas the packages discovered show no trace whatever of having been in contact with water." "Is that mentioned in his report?" "Yes, Resident, it is, and there is something else. He draws attention to the fact that the schooner brig Kiem Pin Hin was seen cruising about off the coast on the night in question, and that the cutter of the Matamata gave chase to a boat of the smuggling vessel." "Did you read that report?" asked van Gulpendam who now began to be really alarmed. "Very possibly you are on the right tack," the Resident muttered rather than said. "Now, Mr. Secretary, be kind enough to hand me Mr. Meidema's report as soon as ever it reaches our office, and further send an oppasser to request that gentleman, in my name, to step over here at once." This, of course, was a dismissal in optimâ formâ. When van Gulpendam found himself alone he looked up the act of 1874 and said: "The secretary mentioned clause 23 I think. Let us see. Oho! a fine of one thousand to ten thousand guilders! And, when I come to consider how, on the evening of the occurrence, Mr. Meidema laid stress upon the exact value of the capture of tjandoe--Yes, then I am driven to confess that our secretary may perhaps be in the right channel after all." He sprang up from his seat, and with rapid steps began to walk up and down the gallery. "Oh!" cried he gnashing his teeth with vexation--"all this bother brought on by that wretched fellow van Nerekool! Oh--if Anna would but consent!" CHAPTER XXIV. PARENTS v. DAUGHTER; DUTY v. AUTHORITY. Yes, if Anna would but consent! But, that was the very thing she would not do. After both her parents, who were so strangely unlike their high-minded child, had employed every means in their power to induce Anna to join their conspiracy by using the influence she had over van Nerekool, the girl had replied: "No, never!" just as firmly and just as resolutely as Charles himself had uttered those words in reply to Mrs. van Gulpendam in the garden of the Residence. "No, never, never!" said the true-hearted girl as emphatically as it was possible to pronounce the words. "But remember," cried Laurentia, "his whole career depends upon the attitude you choose to assume in this matter!" "Charles shall never condescend to seek promotion by stooping to a mean, dishonourable action," was the girl's reply. "Anna!" shouted the Resident, in a furious rage, "take care what you say! I advise you to keep some check upon your tongue!" "For goodness sake, Gulpie," interposed Laurentia soothingly, "now do be quiet--anger will not mend matters." And then turning again to her daughter, she continued: "And Anna, I wish you not to lose sight of the fact that the possibility of your union with van Nerekool depends wholly on your present line of conduct." "My union!" sadly exclaimed the poor girl. "A woman who is really in love," continued her mother, "has a very considerable amount of power to influence the man upon whom she has set her affections." "But, mother, do you then really wish me to try and persuade Charles to lend himself to an infamous breach of duty?" "Anna, don't go too far!" roared van Gulpendam, beside himself with anger. "Would you," continued Anna, "would you have me deliberately widen the gap which is already growing between us? No, no, I shall not do that. All joy has been swept out of my life for ever; and I have now but one wish left, and that is that my image, pure and unsullied, may continue to live in his memory. I can never become his wife, that I know well; but my name at least shall remain with him as fair and as spotless as the remembrance of a blissful dream!" "But, Anna," persisted her mother, speaking in her most honeyed and winning tones, "but, Anna, my dear girl, why should you talk thus? Why should there be no joy for you in this life? Surely that is tormenting yourself quite needlessly." "Oh, mother!" cried the poor girl, "do spare me the pain and the sorrow of having to utter words which will be most distressing to you and most painful to my father to hear. No, no! Of happiness for me there can be no further question--of a union with van Nerekool, I must never again allow myself to think!" "Ah," sighed Laurentia, "if you would but--" "Yes, mother, just so, if I could but--But I will not. Suppose, for a moment, that Charles were weak enough to yield to my persuasion. Suppose I could succeed in talking him over, and could get him to consent to your proposals. Why then, from that very moment, every tender feeling would be wiped clean out of my breast. If such a thing ever could be--why then, I would utterly despise a man who is ready to offer up his duty to his inclination; and who could be base enough to stoop to a crime, in order to win the girl upon whom he has set his heart." "Anna, not another word!" cried van Gulpendam, in the most threatening accents. "But, father," she continued, "surely I ought to tell you what my feelings are. I must give utterance to thoughts which seem to choke me! As certainly as I know that I wish him to keep a pure and stainless memory of me--so surely am I convinced that he also, on his part, desires nothing more fervently than that his name should dwell with me, as it does now, great, noble, and strictly upright! Oh, I could not, indeed, bear to face the life of utter desolation, which would be in store for me were I compelled to despise him whom now, above all human beings, I look up to as noble and great. No, no, if such a thing could ever come to pass--then my misery would be too great a burden to bear! Come what will, the memory of Charles shall always remain unsullied in my heart." Mrs. van Gulpendam could but heave a deep sigh, while her husband was trembling with suppressed rage. At length he exclaimed, in the tones of a man who has fully made up his mind, "Let us cut this short, it has lasted too long. I take it then, Anna, that you absolutely and finally refuse to accede to your mother's suggestion?" "Yes, father--I do refuse most positively," said Anna, in a tone not one whit less resolute than her father's. "Mind, you are utterly spoiling all his prospects in life," said van Gulpendam, warningly. "Better that," was her reply, "much better, than that I should rob him of his honour." "It makes your marriage with him impossible." "I know it but too well," sighed Anna, "but I cannot help that--the fault of that lies with my parents." "How can you make that out?" exclaimed Laurentia. "He cannot, and he never shall, marry the daughter of parents who could venture to make him such infamous proposals!" "Anna!" roared her father, "you are utterly forgetting yourself--it is time we should have no more of this. A girl who dares to make use of such language to her parents shows herself unworthy of them. I fully intended to put an end to this nonsensical love-story altogether. It has, indeed, already compromised you. I intended to send you away, for a while, on a visit to Karang Anjer; and I meant you to start on your journey next week. Now, however, I change my mind; and you must be off at once--to-morrow morning." "To-morrow morning!" exclaimed Laurentia. "What will the Steenvlaks say to this sudden change of plan?" "Assistant Resident Steenvlak," replied her husband, "has been suddenly called away to Batavia. He has been obliged to leave Mrs. Steenvlak and her daughters at Karang Anjer, and, as he may be away from home for a considerable time, the family will no doubt be glad enough to have someone to stay with them during his absence. However that may be, Anna will, I am sure, be welcome. I am going to my office this moment and will at once send off a telegram to Karang Anjer. To-morrow morning Anna will start for Poerworedjo, a friend of mine will be there to meet her, and he will take her on in his carriage to the Steenvlaks. She will travel by way of Koetoe Ardjo and Keboemen." Laurentia heaved a deep sigh. "We shall have but very little time to get her things ready," said she. The remark itself and still more the way she made it, showed plainly enough that the bother of this sudden departure touched her much more nearly than the separation from her child. "Oh! mother," said Anna as quietly as possible, "pray leave all that entirely to me. I shall be quite ready to start to-morrow, as early as ever you please." "Do you intend her to stay long with the Steenvlaks?" asked Laurentia. "That will very much depend upon herself," was van Gulpendam's reply. "I don't want to see her face again, unless she consents to return in a much more submissive mood, and is prepared to behave in a dutiful and becoming manner to her parents." As he uttered these words, van Gulpendam glanced at his daughter hoping--perhaps expecting--that he might detect in her some signs of relenting. But, though she was deadly pale, Anna did not betray the feelings which were stirring within her. On her placid features there was no trace either of irresolution or of defiance; there was nothing but quiet determination and settled purpose. "You have, I presume," continued the Resident, "well weighed and thoroughly understood what I said?" He rose and prepared to go to his office. "Certainly, father, I have understood you perfectly. To-morrow morning I leave this house never to set foot in it again. Even if you had not so decided, I myself would have insisted upon an immediate separation." "Oh, ho! Does the wind sit in that quarter? And pray, may I be allowed to ask my proud and independent daughter what plans she may have formed for the future? She surely must be aware that she cannot quarter herself for an indefinite period of time upon the Steenvlaks?" Van Gulpendam, as he put the question, assumed a tone and manner in the highest degree offensive and taunting. But Anna would not allow herself to be ruffled and, in the calmest possible way she replied: "You ask me, father, what are my plans for the future, and I must beg you to allow me to keep my intentions to myself. For the present moment I gladly accept the hospitality of the Steenvlaks. You know how fond I am of the two girls and how much I respect and admire their mother. But, as to the future, my plans are, at present, I must confess, very vague. I do not very well know what to say about them; and, even if I were ever so anxious to give you my confidence, I could hardly tell you what I intend to do. Of one thing, however, you may rest assured--whatever may happen, I shall never again be a source of trouble or expense to you." "Indeed!" replied van Gulpendam, still in his sneering tone. "Indeed! And so my daughter seems to fancy that she can step out into the wide world without a penny in her pocket! I am very curious to learn what impressions she may have formed of that world." "You must pardon me, father," replied the young girl still very quietly; "but now you compel me to touch upon a subject which I feel is a very delicate one. You have given me an education which has but very poorly fitted me to provide for my own maintenance. Yes--I might, perhaps, earn something by giving music lessons; but here in Java I could not well do so without casting a reflection upon your name. To go to Holland and there have to roam about the streets in search of employment--the very thought is repugnant to my feelings. But all these are matters for future consideration." "Oh, you think so?" sneered van Gulpendam, "for future consideration! Now, it appears to me, that in such schemes, the earning of money ought to be the first and most important consideration." "Such being your opinion," replied Anna with a sigh, but no less resolutely and calmly than before, "I must now come to business. I did not think I should ever have had to speak to you on this subject at all--indeed the matter would never have crossed my lips, had not necessity compelled me to speak out freely. Two years ago, you remember, we received the news that Grandmamma van Gulpendam had died at Gouda. The same mail which brought us the sad tidings of her death, brought me a letter forwarded by her lawyer. In that letter the dear old lady took a most affectionate leave of me and told me how much she regretted that she had never had the opportunity of seeing me or becoming acquainted with me. She informed me further that, in her will, she had left me the sum of 30,000 guilders, and that, as soon as I was nineteen, the money would be at my disposal. She begged me, however, not to mention the matter to you as she did not wish to deprive you of the pleasure of giving me that surprise on my nineteenth birthday. Her lawyer merely added a few words confirming my grandmother's communication; and he went on to tell me that he had invested the capital in the 4 1/2 per cents, and that, by the express desire of the deceased, the money was not to be realised. Well, the interest of this sum, which is mine and which you will hardly refuse to give me, is amply sufficient for my present wants. Next year I shall be nineteen and I shall then have the power to dispose of the capital. By that time I shall have made up my mind as to the manner in which I can most usefully employ it." All this, the young girl spoke so naturally and so quietly that both her parents, who latterly had gained some insight into the character of their daughter, understood perfectly well that they had to deal with a resolution which nothing could shake. They were, indeed, greatly surprised to find that Anna was so well informed as to the dispositions which her grandmother had made in her favour; but they felt that denial or resistance to her claim were alike impossible. Indeed her better nature began to prevail over the mother, and tears stood in her eyes as she said: "Anna! poor child! what a terrible future you are laying up for yourself!" "Mother," was the girl's reply, "a future more terrible than that which must await me here, I cannot possibly conceive. What worse misfortunes can overtake me? I defy Fortune to be more cruel to me in the time to come than she has already shown herself in the past." At these words van Gulpendam rose from the seat he had resumed. He put his hand to his throat as if to clear away something which was rising there and threatened to choke him. But, his was a tyrannical nature, and he at once repressed the natural emotion which, he feared, might overcome him. The very consciousness, indeed, of the fact that his child was so much purer, so much better and stronger than he was himself, was unbearable to him. "Yes! yes!" he exclaimed, "that is all mighty fine--very fine and very romantic! Unfortunately it lacks common sense. We have now said all we have to say to each other and the upshot of it is that I stick to my resolution; and that to-morrow morning early, you leave for Karang Anjer." "I am not aware, father," said the girl with much dignity, "I am not aware that I have made any attempt to alter your decision." "Very good, that settles the matter!" cried van Gulpendam, and then, with concentrated fury in his voice, he continued: "We shall find some way of breaking that little temper." These were his parting words as he turned to go. On the morrow of this most painful interview, just as day was about to dawn, a carriage stood waiting at the steps of the residential mansion. It was one of those light conveyances drawn by four horses which Europeans often use in the interior of Java where railways are unknown, and which are well suited to traverse long distances along broken roads and steep mountain paths. Under the back seat of this vehicle was strapped a small travelling bag, only just big enough to contain a few necessary articles of clothing. Anna had made up her mind that she would not take away with her out of her father's house any single thing but what was strictly necessary. Even that she would have left behind, but for the consideration that the interest of the money left her by her aunt which, for the last two years, had not been paid to her, amply sufficed to cover the value of the few things she packed up. Not a single jewel, not one silk dress, not the least bit of lace, did that little bag contain. She carefully left all those superfluities behind her, and would carry away nothing but a little underclothing and a couple of plain muslin dresses. The small travelling trunk had scarcely been strapped into its place before Anna herself appeared in the front gallery. She was clad with the utmost simplicity in a black dress, and dark-coloured bonnet. There was on her person nothing whatever to catch the eye but the plain linen collar and the cuffs round her wrists, and these narrow strips of white seemed only to increase the demureness and earnestness of her appearance. As she thus prepared to leave her parents' home, she was alone, not a soul was by to comfort her. The rosy dawn was casting its friendly light over the garden, upon the shrubs, the flowers, the leaves, and even over the furniture of the verandah; and the young girl cast a yearning, sorrowful glance upon all these familiar objects which awakened so many memories in her breast. For an instant it seemed as if she hesitated; but it was only for an instant, for hastily brushing away the tears which were silently stealing down her cheeks, she sprang upon a splendid Devoniensis which was growing against the balustrade, and hastily plucked one just opening bud which she put into her bosom as she muttered with a sob: "My darling flower, you shall go with me into exile!" and the next moment she had jumped into the carriage which immediately started. Not another sigh, not another look. The final separation was thus accomplished. The vehicle rumbled heavily through the massive and highly ornamented gates, and then with all speed made for the hill-country of the interior of Java. Anna meanwhile throwing herself back in the carriage gave way to sad reflections. But all the while, hidden by the Venetian blinds, Anna's mother had been standing and watching her daughter with feverish anxiety. She had caught the desolate expression in Anna's eyes as she glanced around upon all those familiar objects which from childhood had been so dear to her; she had seen the girl plucking that rosebud, and her eyes had eagerly followed her as she sprang into the carriage. Then a hoarse cry escaped from her lips, "My God, my God," she sobbed, "has it come to this? Where there was everything to ensure happiness! How will all this end?" Aye indeed; how was it all to end? That was a question to which the future was to give a terrible answer. Late on that afternoon, Anna arrived at a small dessa in the interior, and left her carriage while a change of horses was being made. She asked the postmaster if he would allow her to sit down and rest awhile in his bamboo verandah, and he very readily granted her request. Then she drew forth her writing materials and was soon wholly absorbed in the work of writing a letter. For a few moments she sat irresolute, her pale and careworn face plainly enough showing that she had a most difficult and serious task before her. First she heaved a deep sigh; then two big, burning tears slowly trickled down and fell heavily on the paper before her. But at length, by degrees she appeared to be carried away by her subject, and she wrote on in feverish haste. Yes, the subject of that letter was indeed to the young girl a serious and difficult one; for she was composing her last letter to her lover van Nerekool. In the condition of utter loneliness in which she then was, she laid bare her whole soul to him, and, although words thus written were intended to meet the eye only of him to whom they were addressed; yet the novelist is guilty of no indiscretion if he should glance over the young girl's shoulder to gain an insight into her feelings and thus give the motive for her actions. The letter was not a very long one; yet it cost poor Anna a great deal of anxious thought. "Mr. van Nerekool," she wrote, "from the evening when we met on the occasion of the ball at the Residence, I have, in spite of all your endeavours to obtain another interview, purposely avoided seeing you again. On that occasion you asked me to become your wife, and I allowed you to speak to my parents on the subject. Under those circumstances you were no doubt perfectly justified in seeking for further intercourse with me, and it is for this reason that I now address these last words to you. After I left you in the garden, you had a long interview with my mother, and it was not until the following morning that I learned what had been the subject of conversation between you. Pardon me, Mr. van Nerekool, for I know that a child ought not to criticise the actions of her parents; but it is that conversation and the fact that my father endorses everything my mother then said, that makes my union with you impossible. Yours is an upright and loyal nature, and you cannot and must not think of making me your wife after the infamous proposals which have been made to you. You will say perhaps that a child is not guilty of the actions of her parents and cannot be held responsible for them. In that you are perfectly right, and I must tell you that my conscience is as clear, and that, if in my present forlorn condition I may be allowed so to speak, I, at this present moment, hold up my head as high as before I knew anything of my mother's designs. But to be always face to face with the man to whom the odious propositions were made; to be ever conscious, even in our tenderest moments, of the fact that I was flung to the man I love as the price of dishonour, that is a prospect which to me is utterly unendurable. You are a gentleman, and, as such, you would, no doubt, always have treated my parents with deference and with the proper show of respect; but to know that all this must be a mere empty show put on in deference to a daughter's natural affections, O Charles!--allow me for the last time to call you by that dear name--O Charles! that would have made life an intolerable burden to me, and must inevitably, in the end, have destroyed your happiness also. "I am writing these words to you from Sapoeran where I am resting for a few minutes while we are changing horses. You have, no doubt, heard that I am going on to Karang Anjer to stay with the Steenvlaks. My father, I know, has proclaimed that fact loudly enough and it must have come to your ears. Yes! I am now on my way to that lonely retreat; but that is only the first stage on the long and difficult road which lies before me. Do you ask what I intend to do? Well, my dear friend, I myself do not yet know what my future course will be. It is most probable that I shall try and get away to Europe, or perhaps to Australia. This much, however, is quite certain; that after my visit to the Steenvlaks I shall disappear altogether; for the very name of van Gulpendam has become hateful to me. But, Charles, when I shall have vanished, when even my very name shall no longer be mentioned, and I shall be as one over whom the grave has closed; then, I know, you will be generous enough to give a thought now and then to the poor girl who, innocent of even a thought of evil, would have esteemed herself only too happy to have been able to call herself yours; but for whom such happiness was not reserved. One request I have to make. Do not lose sight of Dalima. I know her sad condition. I know all about it. I know more about her misfortunes, at least as far as its authors are concerned, than you can do. But, for my sake, I know you will not leave that unhappy girl to her fate. I have no doubt that on the pretended accusation of opium smuggling, she will be found guilty, and condemned. I know it but too well! With our false notions of right and wrong, whenever opium enters into any question, no other result is, I fear, possible. But, oh! I beg of you, do not abandon her. Do not allow her, when once she regains her freedom, to sink into that pool of infamy into which all her countrymen inevitably fall, when, guilty, or not guilty, they have once come under the ban of our criminal law. And now, dearest Charles, farewell! In this world we shall meet no more. I will not, I cannot, ask you to forget me, a passing thought you will sometimes bestow upon her who now will bear no other name than "Anna." This letter the poor girl put into the hands of the postmaster, and it was sent off in due course though not so soon as she wished; for in those inland parts the mail goes out but twice a week. Although the distance between Sapoeran and Poerworedjo was not very great, yet the sun had fairly set before the carriage reached the latter place. Anna put up at the hotel, and, after having partaken of some refreshment, she lay down thoroughly wearied out by the journey, and fortunately she was soon fast asleep. After this short digression which the thread of our story required, we return to the Residence at Santjoemeh. When the secretary left the room, Resident van Gulpendam had bitterly exclaimed: "Oh, if Anna would but consent!" For a while he seemed lost in thought and sat turning over in his mind how matters would have stood if Anna could have persuaded van Nerekool to give way, and if he, on the conditions proposed to him, had been appointed President of the court. "Well!" he muttered at length, "it can't be helped. However, we shall manage I suppose to weather this Norwester and to get our boat safe into harbour." "But," he continued, "what did the secretary mean by alluding to that clause in the opium-law? Let me see, which was it? Oh yes, I have it, clause 23. Just let us have another look at it!" Herewith he took up the bundle of papers which he had replaced among other documents on the ledge over his writing-table. For some time he fingered the pages, turning them over impatiently, at length he exclaimed: "Oh, here we are! No. 228. Now let us see, clause 23--'All offences committed against the regulations herein laid down to which no special penalties are attached, are punishable by a fine of one thousand to ten thousand guilders for every hundred katies of opium or under, and of one hundred guilders for every additional katie?' By Jove! the fellow is right after all!--that's where the coast lies, is it? We shall have to get out another anchor. It is not at all a bad idea, but--" "The inspector requests the honour of an interview with you Kandjeng toean!" cried one of the oppassers, as he flung open the door to announce Mr. Meidema. "Show him in," was the reply. "Resident," began the inspector as he entered, "I just now met your secretary, and he told me that you wished to see me." "Quite right, Mr. Meidema, pray be seated. I have just seen your report on that smuggling business at Moeara Tjatjing; but I am surprised to find that your statement does not at all agree with the actual facts of the case." "How is that, Resident?" "No, Mr. Meidema, no it does not. Will you please try to recall our conversation on the very evening of the discovery?" continued the Resident with his eye steadily fixed upon his subordinate. "I remember that conversation perfectly, Resident." "Well," resumed van Gulpendam, "if my memory serves me, I then pointed out to you--and I did so by means of witnesses--that the opium was found in the possession of the Javanese called Ardjan. At the time you seemed to agree with me." "Certainly, Resident, I did not just then venture to contradict the opinion you had formed, and which you so positively stated as your conviction. It was, however, my duty to investigate the matter--" "And?"--interrupted van Gulpendam. "And the result of that investigation has led me to the conclusions I have embodied in the report of the case which, as head of the police, it was my duty to draw up." "Yes," hastily said the Resident, "against all probability, and in the teeth of the evidence!" "By your leave, Resident," said Meidema, "the report--" "Shall I tell you," broke in van Gulpendam, "shall I tell you to what your investigation has led you?" But Mr. Meidema, carried away by his argument, paid no heed to the question, and continued: "The report, for the matter of that, is not binding upon the court." "That's a good job too," said van Gulpendam, somewhat sarcastically; "but I asked you just now to what your inquiry has led you." "To what it has led me, Resident?" replied Meidema. "I think that is a very strange question, coming from you. I have, as I was in duty bound, held an inquiry simply for the sake of arriving at the truth." "Of course, Mr. Meidema, that is supposed to be the object of every inquiry; but I think that this particular investigation may have led you to a somewhat different result." "What may that be, Resident?" asked the other, calmly. "It has led you to the discovery that the fines, which are to be divided among the finders of the smuggled opium, can more easily be recovered from the wealthy farmer than from the poor Javanese fellow out of which no one can screw anything at all." "Resident!" cried Meidema, "such language--" "Mr. Meidema, pray be calm. My words merely express the impression which your report has made upon my mind." "But, Resident, I have nothing whatever to do with the fines. They are no business of mine. I am perfectly acquainted with the law on the subject, and I really do not know what meaning I must attach to your insinuations." "Oh, come," said van Gulpendam scornfully, "do you think I am not up to all the dodges by which the law may be evaded?" "Resident," said Meidema, indignantly, "I must really request you to modify your opinion of me. I never have stooped to any of the dodges you think fit to allude to. Not a single penny of the fines, not a single grain of the opium has ever come into my hands. And, allow me to say, that if you do not feel thoroughly convinced that when I say so I speak the bare truth--why then the office you hold compels you to lodge an accusation against me at head quarters." "Mr. Meidema," said van Gulpendam, coolly, "we are, I fear, wandering away from our subject. You tell me that you have been holding an inquiry--do you not? Now pray let me know, whose evidence may you have heard?" "Whose evidence? Why, in the first place that of the prisoner Ardjan--" "Of course, he has told you that he has nothing to do with the matter, that I can quite understand. Whom else did you examine?" "I next took the evidence of baboe Dalima--" "Oh, yes, she also is locked up on a charge of opium smuggling; she has no doubt given her lover a most excellent character. Fine witnesses those of yours, Mr. Meidema, I must say. Have you any others?" "Yes," replied the Inspector, quietly, "I have examined the dessa people who were that night pressed to assist in Ardjan's arrest." "And?" cried van Gulpendam, impatiently. "Come, look sharp!" "And their story contradicts, on almost every point, that of the police oppassers." "Of course it does, those dessa dogs always hang together; but all that ought not to have satisfied you as Chief Inspector of Police." "No, Resident, it ought not, I confess; and what is more, it has not," continued Meidema. "When the evidence appeared to me so very contradictory, I myself went down in person to Moeara Tjatjing, to inspect the boat in which Ardjan is said to have brought the opium ashore." "And you found nothing?" inquired van Gulpendam. "Oh, yes, Resident, I did. I found the surf-boat, and I am fully satisfied that it was much too small to contain the captured opium." "If I remember rightly, Mr. Meidema," observed van Gulpendam, "that boat is said to have held two persons, Ardjan and Dalima?" "Quite so, Resident." "The boat then was large enough to hold those two, eh?" "Yes, Resident, it might have done so; but there was room for nothing more." "But," asked van Gulpendam, "supposing now that baboe Dalima never was in that boat at all--what would you say to that, Mr. Meidema?" "Never in the boat at all, Resident!" exclaimed the other, in astonishment. "In that case," continued the Resident, "I suppose there might have been room for the opium if carefully stowed away?" "Well, yes, perhaps," said Meidema; "but the proof--" "Oh, yes, the proof--I can find you proof enough. I myself can solemnly declare that, during the whole of that night, baboe Dalima never left my house at all. And not only so, but all the members of my family are ready to declare as much." "Well!" said Meidema, "then all I can say is that the case is beginning to assume a very serious aspect." "Why! What are you driving at now?" exclaimed van Gulpendam. "Come, man, fire away!" "I mean that your statement directly contradicts the word of your daughter." "My daughter--the chatter of a silly girl!" "Not so, Resident," continued Meidema, very seriously, "I have in my possession a formal statement in Miss van Gulpendam's own handwriting, in which she gives a detailed account of baboe Dalima's abduction, of her forcible detention on board the schooner brig Kiem Ping Hin, and of her rescue by Ardjan." Van Gulpendam turned pale at those words, he felt as if he had received a stunning blow; Mr. Meidema, however, did not allow him time to recover his composure, but continued: "I have further in my possession the sworn testimony of the mate and the crew of the coastguard ship Matamata, which proves that on the night in question they manned the cutter in order to give chase to a surf-boat which contained two persons. That they fired upon them; but that they were compelled to give up the chase because of the tremendous sea that was running at Moeara Tjatjing in which their clumsy craft would have had no chance to keep afloat. Thus you perceive, Resident, that there were actually two persons in that boat, and that, consequently, there could have been no room for the opium. Moreover--" "What else?" broke in van Gulpendam, who was gradually recovering from his surprise. "Moreover, the surf-boat was dashed to pieces on the beach. I saw the wreck lying partly in the water and partly covered with mud, and I have witnesses to prove that the cases, in which the smuggled opium was packed, had not been in contact with sea-water at all. No, no, Resident, I am firmly persuaded that the stuff never came ashore in that boat, and further, that Ardjan has had no hand in the transaction." For a few moments the Resident sat lost in thought. "Mr. Meidema," he said at length, "have you, as you were bound to do, employed an expert to ascertain the quantity, the quality, and the particular kind of opium that was found?" "Yes, Resident, I have done so." "Have you secured the surf-boat itself?" "Yes, Resident," replied Meidema, "I did so; but, owing to some strange neglect for which I am unable to account, the watchman at the town jail, who had charge of the boat and with whom I had deposited it for safety, had broken up the boat and used the timber for firewood." A smile flitted over van Gulpendam's features, as he muttered, inaudibly: "I have found the leak, I can caulk it," and then, aloud, he said: "That's a thousand pities--to whose negligence do you ascribe that?--But, never mind, we can look into that some other time. Now, Mr. Meidema, will you allow me to give you a piece of good advice?" "Oh, Resident, you know, I am always most happy to receive good advice," was the reply. "Your finances," continued van Gulpendam, "are not in the most flourishing condition, I think. Eh?" "Resident!" "You have a large family--and your expenses must be considerable. Well then, my advice to you is this: Try and arrange matters quietly with the opium farmer." "What do you mean, Resident?" cried Meidema, in utter amazement. "You are shrewd enough, Mr. Meidema, to understand my drift. Lim Yang Bing is a wealthy man, and a kind, indulgent father. His son, you know, is on the eve of making an excellent match. He won't be so very particular just now as to what he pays." "Resident!" "And then," continued van Gulpendam, "another piece of advice let me give you. Very luckily for you the court, which was to have sat to-day and given judgment on that opium-case, has been adjourned. You see, you have yet time to alter that report of yours; which, I must say, appears to me to be drawn up with too much partiality." "That I will never do!" cried Meidema, vehemently interrupting his chief. "Mr. Meidema," resumed van Gulpendam, "I am merely giving you friendly advice. You have a large family--there are a good many mouths to feed. However, think the matter over well." "No, never, never, Resident!" "Very well, in that case our interview may be considered at an end. But don't be in a hurry, think it over well." When Mr. Meidema had left, the Resident stood for a while gazing after him. At length, hoarse with passion, he cried out: "That opposition must be overcome." CHAPTER XXV. EVE'S DAUGHTERS AND THE SERPENT. A couple of days after Mrs. Meidema was sitting with her two daughters in one of the hinder galleries of her house. Our reader has already made a slight acquaintance with the pretty pair of twins on the occasion of the reception and ball at the Residence. They were now sitting with their mother, very busy mending a heap of boys' clothing which appeared to be in a deplorable state. "It is too bad,--really it is shameful," said Gesina. "Now just do look at this, mother,--why the sleeve is literally torn out of it, and there is a huge rent right in the breast. I say, mother, do you think that jacket is worth patching up?" "To be sure it is, Sijntje," replied the mother, "now just you set to work with a will." "Those good-for-nothing boys!" cried Gesina, "they keep us stitching for them all day long." "Come, come," threw in her sister Matilda, "boys will be boys, and ours are so full of spirits." "That is no reason, I suppose," said Gesina, "why they should be climbing trees all day, and get their clothes in such a frightful state." "How do you suppose a boy is to keep out of a tree?" asked Matilda. "If I were a boy I would do just the same." The mother smiled at her daughter's warm defence of her little brothers. "Oh, yes," said she, "it would be a pretty sight to see Matilda up a tree." The two young girls had a laugh at the idea, and then Gesina said, "Don't you think, mother dear, that you might get us a needlewoman to help us with all this heap of clothes." "My dear girl, what are you thinking about?" asked Mrs. Meidema. "Well," continued Matilda, coming to her sister's help, "I must say I think the idea a very good one." "But, my dear girls, pray remember that a needlewoman would have to be paid, and pray where is the money to come from?" "Anna van Gulpendam," put in Matilda quickly, "I know always has her needlewoman." "No doubt she has," said Mrs Meidema; "but you must remember, Tilda, that Anna is an only child, and that she is, moreover, the Resident's daughter." "Is there then very much difference, mother, between the income of a Resident and that of an Assistant Resident." "I should think so, indeed," replied Mrs. Meidema; "the Resident draws fifteen hundred guilders a month at least, and your father has at the most but five hundred." "So much difference as that," said Matilda, seriously; "indeed I never thought it was so much." "And then, Tilda dear," continued her mother, "as I said before, the Resident has but one daughter, and we have five children to provide for." "Are children very expensive?" asked Gesina. "You can reckon it up for yourself, Sijntje--there is food to get and clothing and school-fees and--oh, ever so many odds and ends besides." "It is a pity!" sighed the girl, after a while. "What is a pity?" "It is a pity that boys are such an expensive luxury, for they are jolly little fellows." "Now did you ever hear such a girl?" laughed Mrs. Meidema, "first she grumbles at the trouble those good-for-nothing boys give her, and then she calls them jolly little fellows!" "Well, mother dear, you must let me grumble a bit now and then, I really can't help it when we have such a heap of boys' clothes to mend," and with these words the young girl laid her fair head lovingly on her mother's shoulder. "Money is not everything," said Matilda, sententiously, as she kept on stitching busily, while Mrs. Meidema was running her fingers through her daughter's flowing curls. The difference between her father's income and the pay of Resident van Gulpendam led Matilda to make this philosophical remark. "Of course not, Matilda," replied Gesina, "of course not; money is not everything--look at us now, are we not happy?" "Yes," said Matilda, "and to complete the comparison, could anyone be happier even in the Residence itself? Oh, when I come to think over what has happened, I cannot help feeling very sad. Poor, poor Anna!" "Have you had any news from her?" asked Gesina, who by this time had resumed her work. "Yes, this morning I had a letter from Karang Anjer, such a wretchedly sad letter. Knowing Anna's character as I do I can read despair in every word, and I fear--oh, yes, I fear, the very worst--She is capable, I do really think, of any desperate deed." "But," cried Gesina, "what can be the matter with her?" "I do not know the rights of it all," replied her sister. "On those matters Anna is very reserved; but what I know is that her parents will not consent to her marriage with van Nerekool." "Oh, she will soon get tired of Karang Anjer, and then we shall have her back again." "I think not; indeed she writes to tell me that it is her intention never to return. Her letter is so full of sorrow, so miserably despondent, it reads to me like a last farewell--as it were a parting for life. She writes to me as her best and truest friend, and beseeches me not to cast a stone at her should her despair prompt her to a step which will make the world scorn her memory. Mother dear, what am I to do, what can I do to relieve her--I wish I could go to see her at Karang Anjer!" "My dear child," said Mrs. Meidema quietly, "the very best thing you can do is to allude as little as possible, in your correspondence with Anna, to her attachment to van Nerekool. She has, as you yourself say, not taken you fully into her confidence; and from this you may conclude that there exist secrets which you cannot, without indiscretion, touch upon; and which it would only increase her pain to needlessly pry into. Time is the great healer, and it must have its soothing effect upon Anna in her distress. I know something of what has been going on, and I am in hopes that things may yet turn out well." "You know what has happened, mother?" cried Matilda, "do tell me all about it. I am so dearly fond of Anna, that anything which concerns her has, for me, the greatest interest." "Matilda," replied Mrs. Meidema, "Anna, who I do not think herself knows just how matters stand, has thought it right to keep silent before you. She has, in my opinion, acted very wisely." "But, mother!" "Yes, I say, she has acted very wisely in this matter, for she might perhaps have had to reveal to you a depth of wickedness which a young girl may very well remain ignorant of. You must allow me to follow her example. Just now you said, very wisely too, that money is not everything in the world. You were quite right, it is not. There now you see before you a family to which money is no object, which possesses moreover all other requisites for happiness, such as health, consideration, the highest position in our little society; and yet you see there is no happiness. No, money is not everything--But yet--" As she said it, the poor woman heaved a deep sigh. The fact that she was sitting there with her daughters hard at work, showed plainly enough that the earthly dross was not altogether so indifferent to her as her words might seem to imply--and she hesitated to go on--her girls looked up at her with an inquiring glance. "But yet?" asked Gesina. "Pray finish what you had to say, mother." "Well," continued Mrs. Meidema, "I had but very little to add; yet a couple of hundred guilders a year more would greatly improve our position. We have very heavy expenses to meet, we have a great deal of money to find; and--" The awning which separated the back-gallery from the grounds beyond, and sheltered it from the glaring light outside, was here suddenly flung aside, admitting a dazzling flood of sunlight which made the three ladies look up in surprise. "Babah Lim Yang Bing wishes to speak with the master," said one of the servants. "But your master is not in, he is at his office," replied Mrs. Meidema, "you know that as well as I do." "I told the babah so, njonja," said the man. "Well?" "He wishes to speak to the njonja." Mrs. Meidema made a gesture of impatience. But Lim Yang Bing, the wealthiest Chinaman in the residence of Santjoemeh--perhaps the richest man in all Dutch India--was not the kind of man who could very well be turned away. It was, moreover, no very unusual thing for him to come and pay his respects to the ladies and, on such occasions, he generally had some pretty little nick-nacks to show. "Very well, show him in," said Mrs. Meidema. The needle-work had in all haste to be put away and concealed, and some light fancy work had to be snatched up; for it would never do to let that Chinaman see a European family employed in such drudgery. "Tabeh njonja, tabeh nonna nonna. Saja halap--" But we will not attempt to reproduce the Chinaman's execrable Malay. In fact it would hardly be possible to do so, as the men of his nationality find the greatest difficulty to pronounce some of the consonants, and their talk is often extremely difficult to understand. "Good-morning, madam; good-morning, young ladies," said he most courteously, "I hope I am not intruding. I thought I might have found the Assistant Resident at home; but since I am not so fortunate, I take the liberty of paying my respects to the ladies--in the first place to inquire after their health, and also to tell them a great piece of news." "News?" asked Mrs. Meidema, who like most women did not lack curiosity. "Pray be seated, babah." And, turning to the native servant who was sitting cross-legged on the steps of the gallery, she said: "Todrono, bring a chair." As the Chinaman took his seat, the two girls looked at him with wonder-waiting eyes. "And now, babah, for your important news!" said Mrs. Meidema, somewhat eager to hear it. "First," said Lim Yang Bing with another bow, "allow me to inquire after the state of the ladies' health." "Oh, thank you," replied Mrs. Meidema, "we are all perfectly well." "Toean Allah be praised," cried the Chinaman in high-flown tones, but with the sweetest of smiles on his lips. "Now for your news, babah!" cried Gesina impatiently. "Yes, nonna, I don't wonder at your curiosity, you are quite right, the young ladies especially will enjoy it." "But, babah, do pray speak out, tell me what it is all about," cried Matilda as eagerly as her sister. "Well," said the Chinaman, "it is about a wedding." "A wedding!" exclaimed one. "A Chinese wedding?" asked the other. "Yes, ladies, yes, a Chinese wedding, as you say," replied Lim Yang Bing, laying as much stress as he could upon his words. "Delightful!" cried both the young girls. "And who may the happy couple be?" asked Mrs. Meidema somewhat more soberly. "I may not tell you that, nja." "Oh!" said Gesina with much disappointment in her voice, "then it is not decided yet." "Yes," replied Lim Yang Bing, "it is quite certain; it is so far decided indeed that I have samples of the silk with me now." "Samples of the silk!" cried both the young girls in a breath. "Yes, the samples of silk. You surely must have heard, young ladies, that on such occasions the betrothed couple always make some little presents to the invited guests. And since you ladies will, I hope, honour me by witnessing the ceremony, I have ventured to bring the samples along with me. Very fine silk indeed; I ordered it on purpose from Nan Hioeng. But you must judge for yourselves, ladies." Therewith he produced a small parcel which he carefully unfastened and the contents of which he displayed to the women's admiring gaze. "Oh!" cried Gesina, "just look at that lovely green shot with red! what a charming dress that would make!" "And," exclaimed Matilda, "what a splendid blue! Dark blue with flowers. If I had to choose, I would--" "And will not Mrs. Meidema make her choice?" asked Lim Yang Bing. Mrs. Meidema could not help casting an eye upon the seductive parcel but--she hesitated. "Come, come, pray select a sample for yourself, madam," said the Chinaman with a supplicating look. "But--babah--" she began, "I have never heard of gifts offered at Chinese weddings. I know they are customary at the New Year." "Yes, yes njonja, you are quite right, on that occasion we offer gifts all round to all our acquaintances; but at a wedding we only do so to our old friends, and--I take the liberty of reckoning the Assistant Resident among my very good friends." "Yes, but babah, you know Mr. Meidema, do you not?" "Surely the njonja would not refuse my poor little present," interrupted the Chinaman. "Oh, mother, dear!" whispered Gesina beseechingly. "No, babah, I will not downright refuse; but before coming to any decision or making any choice, I must have a talk to my husband." "Of course, of course," hastily said Lim Yang Bing, "that is nothing more than right and proper. It makes matters, in fact, easier for me, as perhaps, madam, you would not mind to intercede for me with the Assistant Resident." "Intercede for you, babah!" cried Mrs. Meidema now thoroughly surprised. "You know that my intercession has but very little influence with my husband." The Chinaman smiled--it was a cunning leer, as he said: "No, no, madam, I did not mean you to intercede for me--I cannot have expressed myself properly--what I meant was--to intercede for the bridegroom." "For the bridegroom?" asked Mrs. Meidema. "Oh, yes; but who is the happy man, babah?" "Madam, that is a secret--However, I may just as well tell you at once; as soon as you know who he is I feel sure I can reckon upon your sympathy. Well, the happy man, then, is my son Lim Ho." "Indeed!" said Mrs. Meidema very coolly, "and who is the young lady?" "Ngow Ming Nio." "The daughter of Ngow Ming Than--is she not? A very pretty girl and a very rich girl too--I am sure I congratulate you, babah." "And now, may I reckon upon you, madam, to intercede for Lim Ho?" asked the Chinaman. "I do not see," said Mrs. Meidema, "in what Lim Ho can need my intercession." "Ah, well," sighed Lim Yang Bing, "I fear that the poor boy is not in very good odour with the Assistant Resident. If only you would speak a good word for him, madam." "But why? His marriage can have nothing to do with Mr. Meidema." "No, njonja; but--" said the Chinaman dropping his voice, "You see there is something about an opium business in which the poor boy has got mixed up." "I will have nothing whatever to do with that sort of thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Meidema now fairly frightened. "There, babah, please put those samples up again." The Chinaman was taken aback, he reluctantly rolled up the parcel and slowly and deliberately put it into his pocket. "But, njonja," he mumbled, "the poor fellow is as innocent as the babe unborn." "I won't hear anything about it, babah, not another word, please, on the subject." "If only the toean Assistant Resident would hear what he has to say," insisted Lim Yang Bing. "Come, mother," whispered Gesina, who, to her infinite vexation saw the splendid silk dress fading away on the horizon, "If father would but hear what Lim Ho has to say for himself." Mrs. Meidema again hesitated. "Well," said she, "if my intercession is to go no further than that--I can see no objection to ask my husband to do that." "Mother, take care!" said Matilda in a very low but very warning voice. "I am infinitely obliged to the njonja," said the Chinaman as he took Mrs. Meidema's hand and gratefully pressed it. "I shall leave these samples here with you--" "Oh, no! no! I will have nothing to do with them." "But, mother," whispered Gesina. "Mother, take care!" said Matilda as softly. Lim Yang Bing did not at all like these whisperings of the two young ladies, and so he hastened to say: "My dear madam, I can assure you that those poor samples have nothing in the world to do with your pleading for my son. I have the honour of inviting you and your two charming daughters--and of course, Mr. Meidema--to be present at my son's marriage. There is not much harm in that I hope. I reckon you among my good friends and, as an acknowledgment of the honour which your presence will confer upon them, the young couple beg you to accept a slight present. In that no one will see any harm I hope; in fact it is simply our national custom. So far, I think we are agreed. This small parcel of samples I will leave here in order that the ladies may have time to make their choice and to talk over the whole matter with the Assistant Resident when he comes in." Put thus plausibly, the offer could hardly be refused. But even if Mrs. Meidema had wished to make an objection she had no time to do so; for the wily Chinaman had very hurriedly put down the parcel on the table, had muttered his tabehs with a few hasty words to the effect that he intended to look in again and ascertain what choice the ladies had made, and then had disappeared. When once the babah was fairly out of the place, the two young girls looked at each other and at their mother. Gesina with a smile on her pretty lips, Matilda with a very serious expression of countenance. "A Chinese wedding!" exclaimed the former. "No doubt there will be a reception and then, what a splendid dance we shall have. When the Chinese do give a party they know how to do it well!" "Do keep quiet, Sijntje," said Mrs. Meidema. She spoke reprovingly, although, as a loving mother, she was pleased to see her girl's radiant looks. They had so few opportunities to go out, especially to such parties as this promised to be. Once a year they got an invitation to the Residence, and that was all. "And how fine I shall look," continued the girl in her glee, "in my new silk dress." She took the parcel from the table, "Oh, yes," said she, "I have quite made up my mind, I choose the green silk. And you Tilda?" "I don't know," replied the other, "but somehow, I feel that all this bodes misfortune." "Oh, I say, how very silly! Just look at these samples!" cried Gesina as she opened the bundle. "Oh, what a splendid bit of brown silk--look mother, dear, that is something for you! And that deep blue is Tilda's choice; it is fine, yes it is very fine; but the green is to my mind the best of all. Just look--But--But--what is that!" Gesina was spreading the piece of silk on her knee in order to bring out the fine effect of the colours. As she did so--something slid out of the packet and fell at her feet. For a moment the three ladies sat there as if petrified, for at a glance they had recognized bank-notes--papers of five hundred guilders. At length Gesina stooped and picked them up. She counted them, one, two, three--up to ten. "Five thousand guilders!" she stammered in utter confusion. "How could they have got into the parcel? It must be some mistake of the babah's--surely he must have made some mistake." "I feared as much!" thought Matilda almost aloud. "Five thousand guilders!" The thought flashed through Mrs. Meidema's brain as she took the parcel and the papers from her daughter's hand, "Five thousand guilders!" Her first impulse was to send at once after the babah and to call him back--to give him his money, and to have him and his samples and his notes kicked out of the house. Five thousand guilders! And the Chinaman was already so far away. Five thousand guilders! Was it wise to let the servants know all this--no certainly not--it would not be wise. Five thousand guilders! It was about as much as her husband's salary for ten months amounted to. She took up the notes, looked at them, smoothed them down one by one, then rolled them together. Five thousand guilders! That would pay all those troublesome tradesmen's bills, and even then, when every farthing was paid, there would be a nice little sum left. Then Meidema might get leave of absence for a while to go into the hill-country. He wanted a change, lately he had been looking very poorly--a couple of weeks' holidays in the hills would quite set him up. Five thousand guilders! The boys might have new jackets. All these thoughts however were cut short by the rumbling of carriage wheels on the drive. "That is father!" cried Gesina, "quick! put away those samples and notes!" She tried to seize them, she had already hastily rolled up the whole parcel together and was about to hide it under the coarse needlework with which they had been busy as the Chinaman came in. But her mother took it from her and quietly laid it upon the table before her. The voice of her husband was heard in the front gallery giving some orders to his servant, and that voice had startled the good woman out of the train of evil thoughts which had unconsciously risen up within her, and which had threatened to lead her astray from the path of duty. No, no, from the man by whose side she had courageously walked for the best part of her life, she could have no secret; from him, whom she had followed for so many years in weal and in woe, she would have nothing hidden. She determined to lay everything open before her husband, he might then act as he thought best. True, they were very poor; but she felt that she must abide by his decision. All these thoughts, in a moment of time, flashed through the mind of this brave and loyal wife, and when Meidema walked into the back-gallery her mind was fully made up. The girls jumped up to give their father the usual kiss, the mother also rose to welcome him. But Meidema saw, at a single glance, that there was something wrong. He put his hands on his wife's shoulders and steadily looking her in the face he said cheerily: "I say, mammy dear--is there any news?" "Yes, Meidema, there is," replied his wife gravely, "sit down, I have something to tell you!" "I say, old girl, you look very serious, are the girls in the way?" "No, no, let them stay, I have no secrets that they may not hear--in fact I prefer them to be here." "My love, how solemn you are! Is there anything wrong? Anything to do with them eh? Have they had an offer? No? Of course not, you would not have looked so black if they had." "Now pray," said his wife, "pray do not talk such nonsense." "Oh, I see, it must be those boys! they have been naughty--trousers torn, jackets in holes! Yes--those youngsters are an awful nuisance--Never mind all that will come right by-and-by." "All that will come right!"--At those words he stopped short, poor man! his interview with the Resident then came to his memory and he began restlessly to pace up and down the gallery. He took out his cigar-case and looked at Matilda. She jumped up, "May I light it for you, father?" she said. She put the cheroot to her lips, lighted a match, and drew a few whiffs. As the smoke went curling up her nostrils and into her eyes, she made a funny little grimace--then she coughed slightly and closed her eyes, and, when the cigar was well lighted, she gave it to her father saying: "Ah bah, horrid! How can you gentlemen like that nasty smoke?" "Why you little minx!" said her father laughing, "you have lit it at the wrong end!" "It is more economical, father." "Perhaps so; but that is why it tastes nasty." "Well, father," said Matilda suddenly growing serious, "now please sit down and attend to mother." "Yes, Meidema, please sit down," said his wife; "I have to talk to you on a most serious matter." "All right, wifey--here I am seated--now I am all ears." "Babah Lim Yang Bing has been here this morning!" "Indeed!--I met him a few minutes ago, he greeted me most politely--more politely in fact than usually." "Do you know, Meidema, what he came here for?" "What he came here for? Not I," replied the husband somewhat astonished at his wife's words. The name of the opium-farmer had roused some suspicion within him though he was unable to guess what his errand might have been. "I suppose," said he, after a moment's pause, "I suppose he merely dropped in to have a chat." "Do you know," said Mrs. Meidema, "that his son Lim Ho is about to be married?" "Yes, I have heard some such rumour. To the daughter of that rich old Chinaman--is it not?" "Yes, father," interrupted Gesina, "to pretty little Ngow Ming Nio." "Lim Yang Bing," continued Mrs. Meidema, "was here this morning to invite you and me and the girls to the wedding." "All right," replied Meidema, "the girls will have rare fun; I daresay you know," he continued, as he patted the cheek of one of the twins, "you know a Chinese marriage is a most interesting ceremony. Is that then the reason why you all look so solemn? Oh, aye--I see--it is about the dresses. The other day when the Resident gave his ball we had some trouble about that. It is a great expense no doubt; but--" "No, Meidema, that is not troubling me, for the Chinaman offers us a present." "A present!" shouted the Assistant Resident. "Yes, he tells me that, on such occasions, they always give presents." "Quite right--some sweetmeats, a few cakes, perhaps. But what of that?" "No, no," said his wife, "not sweetmeats at all; but silk for dresses." "Silk!" cried Meidema, "the fellow must have gone mad! I never have heard of any such presents; and yet I have been a good while in India." "He has even left some samples here with us," continued Mrs. Meidema, "very fine silk, I assure you, most splendid quality. But there was one slight condition attached to his gift." "Indeed! a condition! what might that be?" "That I should intercede with you for Lim Ho." "For Lim Ho--oh, oh! and what did you say to that?" "I told him I would have nothing to do with it." "Where are these samples?" cried Meidema. "Hand them to me, I will fling them into the fire." "Now Meidema, do be quiet for a bit!" "Intercede for Lim Ho! So! they thought to bribe you with a yard or two of silk!" "No, no Meidema, not only with a yard or two of silk--just open that parcel." The inspector tore it open, and, in his excitement he cried, "Where is it?" The banknotes fell to the ground. Pale and utterly unnerved he picked them up, he opened them, looked at his wife and daughters with a stern look; but he spoke not a word. At length, breaking out into a curse, he crumpled up the whole parcel of samples and notes together into one formless mass as he hoarsely cried: "The devil take that d--d Chinaman! the fellow shall pay for this!" And calling to his servant he cried: "Todrono, have the horses put in!" Ten seconds later he had dashed out of the room. CHAPTER XXVI. NEATLY MANAGED. "Yes, Resident, I accuse the opium farmer of a gross attempt at bribery." Such were the words with which Mr. Meidema concluded his detailed account to Mr. van Gulpendam of what had taken place at his house that morning. "Avast! Mr. Meidema, steady a bit! You are going ahead much too fast. Can you be quite sure that the five thousand guilders were concealed in that parcel of silk samples for the purpose of bribery?" "I have already told you, Resident, that what he came for was to induce my wife to exert her influence over me in favour of Lim Ho. Yes, most decidedly. I know that the money was intended for a bribe." "But, Mr. Meidema," observed the Resident, "would it not be much more charitable to suppose that Lim Yang Bing, who is, by nature, a kind and generous man, really felt some concern at your financial difficulties?" "My financial difficulties!" exclaimed Meidema, fairly white with rage. "I should like to find out who spreads those absurd rumours. I am not rich, I admit; but if every man's affairs were in as good order as mine! Then--" "Let us not get out of our course, my dear sir," remarked van Gulpendam, interrupting him at the right moment. "Very good, Resident, I do not wish to do so; but who gives that confounded Chinaman any right to trouble himself about my private affairs. What right has he to offer my wife and daughters presents of five thousand guilders?" "But, can you be sure it was meant for a gift?" "What else could the money have been meant for?" asked Meidema. "Well, I don't know," replied van Gulpendam, "but might not the notes have got mixed up with the samples of silk purely by accident? You ought to know how carelessly such fellows handle paper money, they sometimes have a whole bundle of it loose in their pockets. Now I am persuaded, on the contrary, that when presently you meet Lim Yang Bing the whole business will be explained to your satisfaction. I will send for him. Have you any objection?" "None whatever, Resident; but the fellow may say or swear what he likes; it will not alter my opinion, and nothing will make me retract my charge against him." "Don't be in such a hurry to blow off steam, Mr. Meidema, just allow me to prick your chart for you, and you will soon see that you are out of your course altogether." Hereupon van Gulpendam called one of his oppassers, and ordered the man to mount, and to ride off full speed to the opium farmer's house. "Tell him I want him to come to me at once." The two gentlemen had hardly spent half-an-hour in conversation on the ordinary topics of the day, when an elegant carriage, drawn by two splendid Persian horses, dashed up to the gate of the residential mansion. A few moments later a servant announced the opium farmer. "Show him in," said the Resident. Lim Yang Bing sauntered into the room with his usual listless air and with the stereotyped smile on his lips. The oppasser had already told him that he would find the Assistant Resident of Police with his Excellency, and he looked upon this as a good sign; and had no doubt but that his troublesome smuggling question would be settled off-hand. He therefore greeted the gentlemen with great cordiality. "Tabeh, Kandjeng toean, toean!" The Resident pointed to a chair, and as soon as Lim Yang Bing was seated, he began: "Babah, Assistant Resident Meidema, fancies that he has reason to complain of your conduct." "No, no!" exclaimed Meidema, interrupting his superior officer, "I do not fancy anything of the kind, I actually do lodge an accusation against him." Both gentlemen spoke in Malay, and the Chinaman was thus able to understand all that was said. "And what cause of complaint may he have?" asked the Celestial, with his imperturbable smile. "You ask me," replied Meidema, "what I accuse you of? I will tell you. I accuse you of offering me a bribe--to me, the head of the police!" "I, Kandjeng toean?" asked the Chinaman, with well acted surprise. "When could I have done such a thing?" "Not much more than an hour ago," was the reply. "Just now, this very morning at my own house!" "The toean Assistant Resident must be poking fun at me. It is true that I met him a little while ago; but I had not the honour of exchanging so much as a single word with him." "I know that well enough," interrupted Meidema impetuously; "but did you not this morning call at my house?" The Chinaman looked upon the interview as a farce, in which every actor had to play his part. He had often acted in such little plays himself and had performed pretty creditably on such occasions. He continued therefore; "Oh, yes, Kandjeng toean, I did pay your ladies a visit, it was to invite you and them to the wedding, just in the same way, and for the same purpose, as I called at the Residence to invite the njonja and his Excellency." "Indeed!" said Meidema, sarcastically, "I suppose you came to offer silk dresses to the njonja Resident? Eh?" Lim Yang Bing winced under the blow; and his sallow face grew several shades paler. It was beginning to dawn upon him that matters were serious after all, and, in some confusion, he glanced at the Resident; but van Gulpendam, who was seated directly opposite to the Assistant Resident, could not, just then, make him any sign; yet Lim Yang Bing thought he could detect an encouraging expression in the Resident's eye. "And," continued Meidema, with increasing vehemence, "that you offered the njonja Resident a roll of bank-notes also. Did you not?" As he spoke these words, he flung the money down before him on the writing-table as if it burned his fingers. At this the Chinaman turned livid--for a moment he was utterly confounded. "There! you see, Resident!" continued Meidema, pointing to the farmer. "You see! Why, guilt is written in every line of the fellow's face!" At these words Lim Yang Bing recovered his presence of mind, he jumped up at once, snatched up the crumpled notes, spread them out before him, and began deliberately to count them, "one, two, three, four--ten." Then slowly raising his expressionless eyes to Meidema's face, he asked: "Does the toean Assistant Resident really intend to accuse me of attempting to bribe him?" "Yes, babah, I do most decidedly accuse you of it." "But, may I ask, why then does not the Kandjeng toean give me back the whole sum?" asked the Chinaman, very composedly, and with the usual smirk on his lips. "The whole sum?" cried Meidema, utterly taken aback, "what on earth can the fellow mean?" "Yes, toean," replied Lim Yang Bing, "I said, the whole sum. I have felt for some time that the toean Assistant Resident is by no means kindly disposed to me or mine; but I think it is not quite fair of him to fling me back a small part of my money, and so to try and ruin me, while he keeps back the greater part for himself." All this he said without showing the slightest emotion, without the slightest heat, without so much as even raising his voice; but in the drawling sing-song way in which Chinamen generally speak; and with the obsequious smirk which Chinese features always wear when the owner is addressing a superior. "Babah!" shouted Meidema trembling with rage, "take care of yourself, don't go too far!" But Lim Yang Bing felt his advantage, and was not to be intimidated. With the same false smile and in the same drawling tones he continued: "But I clearly see what the toean Assistant Resident is aiming at. The greater part of the present which I took the liberty of offering to the njonja he keeps for himself, and to that he intends to add the fine which Lim Ho will have to pay, should he be found guilty of smuggling instead of Ardjan. It is not at all a bad idea, I admit; but I leave it to the Kandjeng toean to say whether he thinks it quite fair and honest." Meidema sat there as if thunderstruck. A terrible suspicion began to arise within him. Yes! his money matters were not by any means in a healthy state. His housekeeping was an expensive one, all that, he felt, was true enough. Could his wife under the hard pressure of circumstances--could she have been induced to yield to the temptation, might she possibly not have told him the whole truth? Might she perhaps have mentioned to him only part of the bribe she had received, just to see how he would take it? Yes! that must be it--His wife and his daughters! Yes! now it flashed across him that they seemed much confused when he came in. And then the line of conduct which he had adopted before the Resident who, he felt, was no friend to him--with an awful imprecation he sprang to his feet: "Babah!" he exclaimed, "you are an impudent liar!" "If the toean Assistant Resident becomes abusive," said Lim Yang Bing with the same imperturbable calmness, "then I must request the Kandjeng toean to give me leave to retire." "Mr. Meidema," said van Gulpendam sternly, "I must beg of you to moderate your language." "How much do you say there was in that packet?" asked Meidema, in despair. "I offered the njonja Assistant Resident ten bank notes of a thousand, and ten of five hundred guilders." Poor Meidema fairly moaned with anguish and dismay. "Is that true?" he asked again, with faltering tongue. "I swear it!" was the quiet reply. "Oh! I must go and get to the bottom of this!" cried the wretched man, as he frantically rushed from the room. The Chinaman and the Resident watched him with a curious smile. "Splendidly parried, babah!" cried van Gulpendam admiringly, and then muttering to himself, he said: "I wonder what port that obstinate fool will make for in this storm." "Perhaps the Kandjeng toean will now allow me to retire?" asked Lim Yang Bing, with much humility. "Certainly, babah, certainly, let me not detain you." And, after the usual compliments had been exchanged, the Chinaman took his leave. "Deep fellow that Chinaman, devilish deep! Aye, aye, those who dabble in opium must have their wits about them, they must know how to trim their sails!" Foaming with rage, Meidema got home. He could not wait until his carriage had reached the door; it had scarcely got into the grounds, before he jumped out crying to the coachman, "Wait for me!" He traversed the fore and inner galleries at a bound, and when he reached the back-room where the ladies of his family were still sitting at their needlework, he flew up to his wife, who, noticing at once his excited state, rose from her chair. He grasped both her wrists in his iron grasp, and, exerting all his strength, he forced her down on her knees before him. All this had passed so quickly that, although the two girls had also sprung up, yet neither of them understood what was going on. "There!" roared the infuriated husband, "there! that is your proper position! And now answer me. Where is the rest of the money?" "What money?" asked his wife in alarm. "The ten thousand guilders!" thundered Meidema. "What ten thousand guilders?" asked his unhappy wife, still on her knees. "Meidema! let go my wrists, you are hurting me!" "No, I shall not let you go until you have told me where you have hidden the money." "What money are you talking about?" "The ten thousand guilders you had from the opium farmer!" "Father," said Gesina, "let mother go, and listen to me, I will tell you all about it." "You!" roared her father without releasing his wife whom he still kept kneeling before him. "I took the parcel from Lim Yang Bing," continued the young girl. "It was I who opened it, and we all admired the samples of silk. At that time, I swear to you, father, there were no notes in it. I swear it by all that I hold dear! When mother refused to listen to his conditions, he put the parcel back into his pocket. Later on, mother consented to speak to you about Lim Ho and to consult you about the silk, then, the babah flung the parcel on the table and hurried away." "But the ten thousand guilders!" cried Meidema impatiently. "Let me finish what I have to say, father," continued the young girl. "As soon as he was gone I again took up the samples. And now I come to think of it, they were not the same we had admired before. At the time, however, I did not notice the change. I took one of the samples and spread it on my knee to bring out the effect of the colours, and then--the notes fell out of the packet to the floor." "Fifteen thousand guilders!" said the father who had been listening with impatience but had not lost a word. "No, father, not fifteen thousand; there were ten five hundred guilder notes. There were no more than that," replied the girl in a firm and steady voice. "Is that the truth?" asked her father as he fixed his eye on his wife and children. But there was so much honesty and innocence in the eyes of his twins; and his wife looked up at him so firmly and trustfully, that further doubt was impossible, while all three as with one mouth and in one breath said: "That is the truth." Then the wretched man raised his wife from the floor where she was still on her knees before him. He clasped her in his arms and, as he pressed her to his heart, he cried in a lamentable voice: "My God! my God! I am a miserable wretch! I have dared to suspect my darlings--the only ones I love upon earth!" And, stretching out his arms, he flung them round the neck of his wife and children as sobbing, he cried: "Oh, my dearest ones, can you ever forgive me?" Standing thus, the four formed a group which would have charmed a sculptor; but which must have filled with rapture the heart of any true friend of man. The wife, the daughters, overwhelmed the man, who a moment before had so brutally treated them, with kisses and caresses. Oh, they could so well place themselves in his position--they could so well understand why he had been blinded by passion! "Was I not right?" said Matilda, "when I feared that the parcel boded us no good." "But do tell me, Meidema," asked his wife, "what can have happened that has so terribly unnerved you?" "That beastly Chinaman," he cried, "actually declared in the Resident's presence that he had given you not five but fifteen thousand guilders." "Good God, how infamous!" exclaimed Mrs. Meidema. "Infamous, yes most infamous! but what can one expect from a wretched speculator in opium? Such a fellow as that is capable of any infamy." "But," asked the anxious mother, "may not all this do you a deal of harm?" She had some little insight into the intrigues carried on in Dutch India. "Yes," sighed Meidema, "no doubt it will. If I had to do with honest people, it would not trouble me much; but now!--However, I must see what I can do. My carriage is still at the door--I am off straight to the Resident." "That's a queer story of yours, Mr. Meidema." Such was the only remark which Mr. van Gulpendam thought proper to make when Meidema had most indignantly given him a full account of what had occurred. While he spoke, the Resident had been sitting most attentively listening to his words; but the expression of his countenance showed no sign of sympathy. Now and then there was even a slight motion of impatience and an incredulous smile. That studied indifference and almost insolent smile exasperated the already over-wrought Assistant Resident to such a degree that, when at length his superior officer made his most unfeeling remark, he could not help crying out with indignation: "A queer story you call it, Resident. You mean, I suppose, a most infamous business!" "He, he, he! Mr. Meidema, not quite so fast if you please." "But, Resident, what do you mean--Do you not then think it a most infamous business?" "Oh, yes, most certainly I do; but the question is for whom?" "For whom? Is that the question, Resident? Then it appears to me you do not believe me." "Don't be in a hurry, Mr. Meidema, just listen quietly to me." "But, Resident, this is a matter which demands an instant explanation. If you do not take my word--" "Now, Mr. Assistant Resident, I beg you will allow me to speak." These words Mr. van Gulpendam uttered with that measured tone of voice, and with that dignity which only a Resident knows how to assume. They brought about an immediate and entire change in his subordinate's demeanour. Meidema at once mastered his excitement, he replied not a single word; but only bowed in sign that he was ready to listen. "I said just now," began the Resident, "'a queer story' and now I repeat the words--Yes, it is a very queer story, a very queer story indeed. I will for a moment suppose, Mr. Meidema, that you are an honest man." The Assistant Resident gnashed his teeth and writhed with inward passion at the insinuation; but he uttered not a sound. He had made up his mind, outwardly at least, to retain his composure, and to listen in silence. Without appearing to notice Meidema's evident anguish, the Resident continued: "I am ready to admit, for argument's sake, that you are an honest man; but I think you yourself must allow that appearances are terribly against you. Just put yourself in the position of a Resident; put yourself in my place. I am bound by my office to inquire into these matters calmly and impartially, without fear or prejudice, and, I must add without sympathy either; and then just see on what side probabilities have been accumulating. It is known to everyone, that you are in serious money difficulties--that is an open secret--and, I must tell you, that in your public capacity as chief magistrate, that common report is most injurious to you. When a man is in grave pecuniary difficulties, it is almost impossible to make the public believe that he can be impartial, inaccessible to bribes and strictly honest. The temptations, you see, are too great. On the one side there are tempting offers, which always manage to find a way for themselves, on the other there are the claims of his family, claims which have a powerful voice, and which clamour to be heard. Public opinion, therefore, needs must be against you. Under these painful circumstances, the opium farmer comes to your house and offers presents, in the form of silk dresses, to your wife and daughters, and he offers further a considerable bribe in the tangible shape of money. Now, do you think that you can make anyone believe that all this could occur without there having been some previous relations between you, some quiet understanding to encourage such bare-faced proposals? Surely not! You have told me with your own lips that the opium farmer came to invoke the aid of your wife. Therefore, he must have had some good cause to believe that not only could her aid be purchased; but also that her intercession, when obtained, would be of some value to him. Now, if you are compelled to grant me all this--why, then I say that you can hardly wonder if I come to the conclusion that she was not to-day solicited for the first time. At all events, you must allow that an impartial judge might very easily come to that conclusion. Now this is not all, there is yet another point to be considered. You have yourself confessed that, at least for a time, you yourself believed Mrs. Meidema guilty. Your description of the scene--the deplorable scene--which has just now taken place at your house, amply proves that. And, let me say in passing that I most strongly disapprove of such want of temper and of such want of self-control in my subordinates; but that in the particular case which I have now before me, I am willing to excuse it. However, as I was saying, the scene of which you gave me so graphic a description, amply proves that you yourself did not consider Mrs. Meidema above suspicion." Poor Meidema! He sat there before the pitiless inquisitor, pale as death, motionless as a statue. His bloodshot eyes gazed stonily at the Resident who, with a kind of refinement of cruelty, seemed to delight in probing his wound to the quick. At that moment the wretched man sat there accusing himself more bitterly than van Gulpendam or any one else on earth could have done. The voice of conscience is, to the upright man, the most terrible voice of all. Yes--it was but too true, he had been guilty of suspecting the wife of his bosom, he had thought evil of his two innocent daughters. The Resident was pitiless; but he was quite right. And then, alas! that was not the worst of it; his conscience had a still louder reproach to make. He had been so miserably weak that he had not been able to keep that foul suspicion to himself--he had not been man enough to keep it locked up in his own bosom. Honest and loyal as he was himself, he had fancied that the truth--the whole truth--would have proved the strongest bulwark for innocence. Thus, in a moment of blind honesty, he had, for no other purpose than to bring out more strongly the innocence of his family, betrayed to his enemy the excess of violence into which his wild frenzy had led him. And now, the weapon to which he had fondly trusted for his defence, had turned in his hand; not against himself only, but also against those dear ones of whose perfect purity he had no longer the faintest shadow of a doubt. The thought was too terrible to bear, it was maddening--his eyes began to ache as though a red-hot iron were pressed upon them. But, unmindful of his sufferings, his pitiless tormentor quietly continued: "From all this must we not then reasonably conclude, Mr. Meidema, that your wife, terrified--and very naturally terrified--at your unreasoning violence, must have confined herself to a simple denial after she had attempted to mislead you in the matter of the ten thousand guilders? You see," continued the Resident with a friendly smile, "after all, the best thing is, that we should give that aspect to a most lamentable occurrence; one cannot very well hold you responsible for the actions of your wife." At these words Meidema could restrain himself no longer. "No!" shouted he, "that suspicion shall not be cast upon her--my wife is innocent!" "Mr. Meidema," said van Gulpendam, in tones of mock sympathy, "let me implore you to take my advice, and to consider well what you are about. Once you let go that anchor, I have no other alternative than--" He paused, even he seemed to hesitate, even he recoiled from what he was about to say. "No other alternative than--what?" asked Meidema, with something of the listlessness of despair. "Than to consider you the guilty man and to hold that your family are in conspiracy with you." "Resident!" "Be calm, pray be calm! Remember it is not I who choose the alternative--you yourself force it upon me. Once again, let me remind you of your financial difficulties; let me remind you of the animosity which, in your report, you plainly show to Lim Ho. In that paper you eagerly seize upon every little circumstance which can possibly be adduced to prove him guilty; and you as carefully avoid everything which might point to Ardjan as the culprit. In fact you screen the Javanese in every way you possibly can. Taking all these things into consideration, the words spoken just now by the opium-farmer must needs give us food for reflection. You remember what he said, do you not? His words were blunt and cruel, I admit; but he seems to have had justice on his side. 'He wants,' said the Chinaman, 'to keep for himself the greater part of the present which I offered to the njonja, and he intends in addition to secure the fine which Lim Ho will have to pay if he be found guilty.' A fine which we know could not be screwed out of Ardjan. And when, in connection with those words we come to examine the 23rd clause of the Opium Act, why, then I do not think that many words will be needed to convince you that you must not venture to reckon upon either my sympathy or my support." Meidema, poor wretched man, was utterly crushed and annihilated. Without uttering a sound, he sat vacantly staring at his chief. "No, no," continued van Gulpendam, "I can see no alternative. Either you are guilty or your wife is guilty, perhaps both are equally culpable. You have, however, still time to make a choice; it is not yet too late, but that choice must be made quickly, now, at once; for I have made up my mind to telegraph to headquarters this very day." To telegraph! Poor Meidema only heard the one dreadful word "telegraph." He knew well what that word implied; he knew well in what an arbitrary and off-hand way the fate of subordinates is decided at Batavia. Already he saw himself dismissed and disgraced, shunned as a social leper by every respectable man; his wife and children wandering about in poverty, exposed to hunger and untold misery. Just then, as if he had been able to read the unhappy man's thoughts, the Resident said: "Come, Mr. Meidema, decide, make up your mind, there must be no delay." "What must I do, Resident?" moaned the poor man, now fairly at his wits' end. "What must you do? It is clear enough what you have to do. There is your report; it has just been handed to me along with the other papers relating to the business of the Court at which on Tuesday next I intend to preside. Take it; here it is; do with it what you will." He thrust the document into Meidema's hand--who took it, gazed at it for a moment with meaningless stare, then made some gesture with his hands as though he would tear it up; but--before he could accomplish the fatal deed, his brain seemed to whirl and he fell heavily to the ground. A doctor was sent for at once. When he made his appearance, he found Meidema lying back in a chair surrounded by the entire household of the Residence, but utterly unconscious; and all around the floor was strewed with fragments of paper. The physician spoke of brain fever, and he ordered the patient to be removed to the hospital. "There is no danger, I hope, doctor?" asked the Resident, in tones of the deepest sympathy. "My dear sir," replied the medical man, "there is the very gravest danger. It is a very sad case, it will surprise me much if the man does not go mad--that is if he gets over this attack at all." The Resident thereupon at once drove off to break the fatal news as gently as possible to Mrs. Meidema. The evening papers contained the following paragraph: "We are grieved to state that Assistant Resident of Police, W. D. Meidema, was this morning suddenly taken seriously ill. It seemed at first as if he were suffering from some acute form of brain fever; but after careful examination, our zealous and able medical officer has come to the conclusion that it is a case of 'melancholia attonita.' It is his opinion that no relief can be hoped for unless the patient be at once removed to Europe. There he will probably have to pass a considerable time in some asylum in which he can have the care which his peculiar malady requires. If we are rightly informed, our Resident at once telegraphed to Batavia; so that it is probable there will be no delay in obtaining the necessary leave of absence. Mr. van Gulpendam has further exerted himself to the utmost in obtaining a passage to Europe for the sorrow-stricken family in the Noah III. which is to sail for Patria on the day after to-morrow. Mrs. van Gulpendam also is untiring in her attention, and entirely devotes herself to assist the afflicted family by word and deed. Both the Resident and his wife have once again shown how cordial is their sympathy with their subordinates, and how thoroughly they have their welfare at heart. Our best wishes accompany Mrs. Meidema and her children, and we heartily pray that the Assistant Resident may speedily be restored to health." The correspondent had been well informed. This much is certain, that on the 14th of July the ship Noah III. left her anchorage, and under the influence of the Eastern monsoon, left the harbour of Santjoemeh and was quickly out of sight. Van Gulpendam had, in the overflowing kindness of his heart, accompanied his friends to the ship's side. He had warmly pressed Mrs. Meidema's hand and uttered the kindliest sentiments at parting. Then, when the ship was but a speck on the horizon, he uttered a deep sigh of relief, and with a pleasant smile, he muttered to himself: "Come, I have managed that pretty neatly." CHAPTER XXVII. SUMMUM JUS SUMMA INJURIA. FATHER AND SON CONDEMNED. MURDER OF SINGOMENGOLO. A couple of days later, Mr. Zuidhoorn left Santjoemeh. He started for Batavia in one of the Dutch Indian Navigation Company's ships, intending to take a passage to Singapore in the Emirne. From Singapore he was to go to Marseilles in the Irrawady of the Messageries Maritimes. He was, as we have seen, a thoroughly honest man; and he had fully made up his mind to let the authorities at Batavia know all that had occurred at the last session in Santjoemeh. He intended to act in this matter as prudently as possible; but yet was resolved that the officials at the head-quarters should be fully informed of the shameful intrigues that were carried on in the interior. But--between the forming of a good resolution and the carrying out of it, there is a vast difference, as Mr. Zuidhoorn was soon to discover. He had but three days to stay in Batavia, and he found that he could not, in these three days, obtain an interview with the Governor General. Mr. Zuidhoorn had taken the trouble to go all the way to Buitenzorg; but it was only to find that, on the very day of his arrival, his Excellency had, in the early morning, started for Tjipannas. The only thing, therefore, that he could do was to wait till the morrow, and then take a carriage and drive to that place. Mr. Zuidhoorn took the precaution of telegraphing to the adjutant on duty, and as he received no answer to his telegram, he started the next morning for Tjipannas. He was doomed to be once again disappointed; for when he arrived, he was told that, unfortunately, His Excellency the Governor was confined to his room by a severe attack of fever, and that no one could be admitted to his presence. The aide-de-camp made this announcement with a profusion of excuses, and tried to explain that he had not been able to send a reply to the telegram because His Excellency had not been taken ill until late in the night. There was no help for it, and Mr. Zuidhoorn had to hurry back, as best he could, to Batavia; cursing his unlucky star. But in these fruitless efforts to gain the Governor's ears, two precious days had been wasted, and he had but one left. On the following morning Mr. Zuidhoorn called upon the Chief Justice. This gentleman received him with a cordiality which was somewhat too boisterous to be real. "Here you are at length, my dear Zuidhoorn!" cried he, as, with much outward show of friendship, he grasped his hand. "Indeed, I am delighted to see you! I have been alarming myself so dreadfully about the state of your health, that it is a positive relief to see you as well as you are. I thought your indisposition was much more serious. I am glad to find you are not so very bad after all; but it is getting high time for you to go away for a bit and get a little rest." Mr. Zuidhoorn did not know what to make of all this. "You thought me very ill?" he asked in surprise. "What do you mean? I don't remember, in any of my letters, that I represented my state of health as worse than it really is. And then 'high time to get away?' I assure you I do not understand what you mean. I was not at all anxious to leave." "I suppose not," rejoined the Chief Justice, "I suppose not; but I know you are beginning to feel the effect of the climate." "Of the climate?" repeated Zuidhoorn still more puzzled. "Yes! yes! you see, when we Europeans are forced to live in the tropics for any considerable time, then, in some cases, nervous debility begins to set in, frequently accompanied by weakening or softening of the brain--" "My dear sir," cried Zuidhoorn, "your hints--" "Are not in the least applicable to you! My dear Zuidhoorn, I know that as well as you do; but pray let me finish what I was going to say. Some men, I observed, begin to suffer from debility and impaired brain-power--others grow nervous, excitable, irritable--" "Chief Justice!" cried Zuidhoorn, "is that the case with me?" "As a rule," continued the other without noticing the interruption, "as a rule the patient is, in such cases, wholly unconscious of his condition; and is under the impression that he continues to speak and act precisely as he was always wont to do." "Is such the case with me?" again asked Zuidhoorn, repeating his question. "Well, yes, my dear colleague, I am sorry to say that, to a certain extent, it is. You yourself are not aware of it, of course: but yet to your friends the style in which you write has, of late, betrayed a degree of irritability which you, as an excellent juris peritus, know is scarcely desirable in a high legal functionary." "But my dear sir!" exclaimed Zuidhoorn, "I am not at all aware--" "Quantum est quod nescimus!" interrupted the other. "Well," continued Zuidhoorn, "it is a very curious thing that no one has ever dropped the slightest hint to me of any such infirmity." "True enough, my dear colleague; but nevertheless it has been noticed for some little time. At first I looked upon it merely as a result of the extreme interest which we know you take in the discharge of your duties. But it soon became evident to your friends that it was a symptom of failing health: and, as you know perfectly well, in our profession especially, it is of the utmost importance that there should be meus sana in corpore sano." Mr. Zuidhoorn was utterly amazed, as well as fairly disgusted. Was that then the impression which his long and conscientious services had made upon his superiors at head-quarters? Was that the reward for the many years of anxious work which he had bestowed upon his office? "But, my dear sir," said he, "you will, I suppose, not object to give me a single instance in which that supposed infirmity of mine has manifested itself to you?" "A single instance! my worthy friend, why! I will give you ten, twenty if you like!" "I ask you but for one," was Zuidhoorn's reply. "Very well then," said the Chief Justice, "look at that recent business of the Santjoemeh sessions." "Which sessions?" asked Zuidhoorn. "Ah, you see! you have a kind of inner consciousness that there are several occasions on which--" "That is the merest quibble!" cried Zuidhoorn, somewhat testily, "the merest quibble! I have attended at, and presided over, so many sessions, that my question is, surely, a very natural one." "Well, I will tell you," replied the other, "I am alluding to the affair with Resident van Gulpendam." "Who would persist in presiding over the trials, which he had no right whatever to do." "Come, come, my dear friend," said the Chief Justice, "you must be losing sight of clause 92 of our Judicial regulations. But, I ascribe that want of memory to your mental condition." "Pardon me," interrupted Mr. Zuidhoorn warmly, "the condition of my mind has nothing whatever to do with it. You said clause 92?" "Precisely so," replied the Chief Justice, "that clause confers upon the Resident the power of presiding at any session which may be held within his district, should he think it right and proper so to do." "I know that," answered Zuidhoorn, "but pray remember, that when that 92nd clause was in force, there was as yet no thought of appointing specially qualified lawyers to the presidential office. At that time such a regulation may have been useful and even necessary; but, as matters stand now, it would be an utter absurdity for any Resident who is a layman, to put aside the specially appointed president in order to thrust himself upon a court of justice in the capacity of chairman. Methinks that--" "Mr. Zuidhoorn, allow me to say, that we judges ought to be the very first to show strict respect to the written law. Certain rules and regulations may appear useless or even mischievous; but so long as they remain in force, we are bound to abide by them. And--pardon me the question--have you in this particular case acted up to that principle?" "It seems to me then," said Zuidhoorn, "that you do not approve of my line of conduct?" "Not only do I disapprove of it," replied the Chief Justice, "but the Governor General also is extremely annoyed at the attitude you have chosen to assume in this case. In his opinion the line of conduct you have thought it right to adopt has seriously impaired the prestige which ought to belong to your position." "Oh, indeed! is that his Excellency's opinion?" asked Mr. Zuidhoorn musingly. "Now I begin to see why I have not been admitted to an audience." "Have you tried to obtain one?" "Yes, I have," was the reply. "The day before yesterday I went to Buitenzorg--yesterday I went on to Tjipannas--" "And--?" "I was told by the aide-de-camp on duty that his Excellency was ill in bed and could see no one." "You see!" exclaimed the Chief Justice. "What did I tell you?" "But, my dear sir," interposed Zuidhoorn, "the most scandalous proceedings are going on. For the sake of shielding a wealthy opium farmer, a poor devil of a Javanese--!" "Has been falsely accused--and will in all probability, be found guilty in spite of his innocence," remarked the Chief Justice with a cynical smile. "Oh, yes, we know all about it, you have put the whole question most clearly and most circumstantially before us. But what are we to do? We are powerless, and must bend our heads to the storm. You know summum jus, summa injuria." Mr. Zuidhoorn was leaning his head on his hand as his colleague spoke thus; and was vacantly, almost hopelessly, staring before him. "Let me give you a friendly piece of advice, my dear colleague," resumed the Chief Justice kindly; "the fact is you are not at all well--you are more seriously indisposed than you yourself are aware of. To-morrow you mean to sail in the Emirne, eh? Very well, my advice to you is to leave all these worries and bothers behind you in Batavia; fling off all these anxieties, and go to Europe to recruit your failing strength. In a couple of years' time you will return with fresh vigour--a new man, in fact, in mind and body--and then you will for many years to come continue to be an ornament to a profession in which, allow me to tell you, very few can compete with you. And now you must excuse me. My time is very precious and-- Oh, yes, one other recommendation let me give you before taking leave. For the future, pray take the greatest care never to meddle in any way, if you can possibly help it, with any of the complications and intrigues of the opium trade. I need hardly tell you that it is an imperium in imperio and, to this I may add, malum malo proximum; in all such matters, he who touches pitch must be defiled. And now--I can only wish you a quick and pleasant voyage and a happy time in the old country. Good-bye, my dear Zuidhoorn, good-bye. A pleasant journey to you!" The two cases of opium smuggling, the one at the Moeara Tjatjing and the other arising out of the discovery in the hut of Pak Ardjan at Kaligaweh, did not come on at once before the court at Santjoemeh. Resident van Gulpendam was delighted when he heard from the Chief Justice at Batavia, that, owing to the scarcity of legal men at head quarters, there was no chance whatever of filling up, for some time to come, the vacancy caused by Mr. Zuidhoorn's departure. The sittings of the court at which the Resident now had to preside, were held, as usual, regularly once a week; but Mr. van Gulpendam found no difficulty, on one pretext or another, in putting off the hearing of the opium cases from week to week. At length, however, the chief djaksa had informed him that the two Chinamen, Than Khan and Liem King, who had been on watch in the djaga monjet, could nowhere be found. Presently it was found that Awal Boep Said, the captain of the schooner brig, Kiem Ping Hin, on whose testimony Ardjan chiefly relied, had also disappeared without leaving a trace behind him. Then van Gulpendam thought that the proper time had come to bring up the prisoners for trial. Ardjan had to confess that on the February night in question, he had come ashore in very stormy weather; that the boat of the Matamata had chased him and had fired upon him; but he was quite unable to prove that the opium discovered, not far from the spot where his surf-boat was driven ashore, had not been landed by him. Thus all the evidence was against him. Then he called upon Dalima to prove that she was seated with him in the boat. The president, however, assured the court that the girl had not, on that night, left the grounds of the Residence, and that her testimony, therefore, must be a mere tissue of falsehood and of no value whatever--that it could not in any case invalidate the evidence already produced. The Resident further drew the court's attention to the fact that Dalima herself was about to be put on trial for a precisely similar offence--a fact which could not but affect the weight of her testimony. The court thus came to the conclusion that it was perfectly useless to call so tainted a witness. Moreover the chief djaksa deposed that Pak Ardjan, the prisoner's father, had confessed that the smuggled opium which Singomengolo had found in his cabin, had been supplied to him by his son. Thus the guilt of the prisoner was clearly established and Ardjan was, accordingly, found guilty of an attempt at smuggling one and a half pikols of pure opium which was equivalent to about three pikols of raw material. This brought the case under the 23rd clause of the Act, and the court condemned him to three years' penal servitude, and further to pay a fine of three thousand guilders. In default of payment, he was to have three months' compulsory labour on the public works for every hundred guilders. Ardjan was, therefore, doomed to what virtually came to eight years' penal servitude. The poor victim of this gross miscarriage of justice gnashed his teeth with impotent rage when he heard the sentence. Could he have expected more lenient treatment at the hands of the white men? Perhaps he had, poor fellow! After the son, the father--after Ardjan, Pak Ardjan. His case was treated in a still more off-hand manner if possible, than his son's. The prisoner had confessed that he had smuggled opium in his possession. Entrapped by artful cross-examination; and without having the slightest suspicion how heavily his testimony would weigh against his son Ardjan, he had admitted that the latter used, from time to time, to supply him with the drug. He had further been forced to confess that he had wrenched a sword from one of the oppassers and, in consequence of the fellow's grossly indecent conduct towards his little daughter, had dealt the wretch a couple of slashing blows with his own weapon. But hardly any notice whatever was taken of these extenuating circumstances--they were, in fact, not inquired into at all. The wretched father was there and then found guilty of having illegally in his possession two katties of opium. As this was his first offence, he could only be sentenced to forfeit the captured wares and to undergo three months' hard labour. But on the other charge, that namely, of having offered resistance to the police and of having wounded one of the officers in the execution of his duty, he was sentenced to ten years' penal servitude. Thus father and son were both satisfactorily disposed of. The latter, though perfectly innocent, was sent to penal servitude for eight years. The former, for a very simple offence, for which only a trifling penalty could be inflicted, had not the infamous conduct of the searchers driven him to resistance, was sent to penal servitude for ten years. The Chief Justice at Batavia fixed upon Atjeh as the place where the culprits should serve their time; but--before the order could arrive at Santjoemeh--both Ardjan and his father had managed to make their escape. It was an awful night, dark as pitch, while a terrible thunderstorm had burst over Santjoemeh. The young native soldier who was on sentry-duty inside the outer wall of the prison, had been driven to seek for shelter within his sentry-box, terrified by the flashes of lightning, the deafening claps of thunder, and the torrents of rain; when, suddenly, he felt an iron grip upon his throat. Before he had time to utter a sound, a blow from a heavy piece of wood stretched him senseless on the ground. Meanwhile the thunder kept on rattling and the rain came splashing down with redoubled fury--such rain as is only seen in the tropics. Of these circumstances, so favourable to their flight, the fugitives made the best use. Nimble and strong, as a good sailor must be, Ardjan was able to help his father to gain the top of the wall, then he soon managed to clamber up himself. Once firmly seated, he lowered the old man to the ground on the other side, and, in a twinkling, he was at his side. Not one of the sentries on duty outside the wall was to be seen, they also, in such dreadful weather, had got under cover. The rain still poured down in torrents, and the water was coursing over the plain beyond and dashing down the streets as if all the rivers in the country had broken their bounds. Outside the prison wall all was darkness. One solitary oil-lamp was flickering in a lantern; but it only shed a sickly and feeble light in its immediate neighbourhood, while its wretched little glimmers served but to make more palpable the darkness beyond. Just at the moment when the fugitives had safely reached the foot of the wall, there came a blinding flash of lightning, cleaving its zig-zag way through the clouds. The flash was followed immediately by a stunning clap of thunder with that peculiar crackling sound which tells that the lightning has struck something close by, and then another noise was heard--it was that of a mighty cocoa nut palm which split from top to bottom, came crashing to the ground. The two Javanese then left the shelter of the wall where they knew that the rounds might at any moment discover them; and, taking advantage of the dense darkness which followed upon the dazzling flash, they darted across the small plain in which the prison stood, and, in a few moments, had reached the edge of the dessa. Once there, they were perfectly safe, for not one of the inhabitants of the dessa would have thought of betraying the victims of the detested opium tyranny to the vengeance of the white man. When Resident van Gulpendam was informed of this escape, he was simply furious. One of the sentries stated that, after the fall of the palm-tree, he had heard a sound as of something splashing in the water; but the darkness made it impossible for him to distinguish what it was, and he thought it must be some dog who was trying to get away from so dangerous a neighbourhood. The Resident at once ordered the man to be tried by court-martial, and had him punished with fourteen days' close imprisonment. The most careful search was made to discover the fugitives. All the detectives, all the spies, all the creatures of the opium police, were turned out, and used their utmost skill; but all to no purpose. For months the entire district of Banjoe Pahit, especially the dessa Kaligaweh, was carefully watched; the wife and children of Pak Ardjan were not lost sight of for a moment; but without result. At length the police were driven to the conclusion that the criminals could not have returned to Kaligaweh and that they must, in fact, have left the residence of Santjoemeh altogether. Presently men ceased to talk about the matter, and soon the whole business was clean forgotten; when--a couple of months later--an event took place which, while it recalled the occurrence to men's minds, gave them at the same time ample food for reflection. On a certain evening Singomengolo had come to Lim Yang Bing and had told him that he thought he had found a trace of the fugitives; but, as he feared some of the information he had gained might leak out, he refused to give any further explanation. He requested, however, that he might, for that evening, have the assistance of two of Lim Yang Bing's men; and he picked out two Chinese bandoelans to accompany him on his voyage of discovery. The opium farmer tried all he knew to get at Singomengolo's secret. He questioned and cross-questioned him; but he could get nothing out of him. The bandoelan persisted in saying that he could hope for success only by keeping strictly secret the clue he had obtained. He further said that he was not at all certain that the information he had gained was genuine; and that he might very possibly be on a wrong scent altogether. The only thing he allowed to slip out was that the field of his operations lay not far from Kaligaweh. As soon as he had obtained the help he required, Singomengolo started off with his two police-spies; but he did not return. When on the following morning, the opium farmer heard that his trusty servant had not yet come home, he began to grow anxious. He was so used to see his bandoelan at a stated hour in the morning, to receive from him a report of all that had occurred during the twenty-four hours, and to give him his further orders, that the man's want of punctuality on this occasion gave him no little alarm. On that morning especially, he had been impatiently awaiting Singo's usual visit, as he was extremely curious to know what success had followed the night's expedition. He waited and waited with still growing impatience until noon. Then, the suspense becoming intolerable, he called for his carriage, and drove straight off to the Residence. "What is the matter now, babah?" cried van Gulpendam, greatly surprised at the manner of his visitor, who seemed to have lost all the calmness and composure which are so very characteristic of his nation. "Kandjeng toean," hurriedly said Lim Yang Bing, "I come to invoke your aid!" Thereupon he told the Resident what little he knew of Singomengolo's expedition, and could not hide the anxiety which the bandoelan's prolonged absence caused him. For a few moments the Resident sat reflecting on what he had heard. He had received, from one of the landowners at Banjoe Pahit, secret information which was of a very disquieting nature. A hint had been conveyed to him from that source, that very probably Banjoe Pahit would be threatened by a visit from certain bands of robbers. The hint was, however, so very vague and had apparently so little to support it, that he had not paid much attention to it. The new controller, whom he had appointed in the place of Verstork, and to whom he had imparted the information he had received, assured him that the district was profoundly quiet, that the population was as orderly and contented as it could possibly be; and that not a single alarming symptom could be discovered. True it was that the land-tax came in somewhat slowly; but, on the other hand, other sources of revenue were decidedly improving, and, judging from the flourishing state of the opium den at Kaligaweh, the bidding at the approaching sale of the monopoly would run unusually high. This report was eminently satisfactory to the Resident, and though he knew perfectly well that the foundation upon which the controller had built his pleasant expectations, was an extremely crazy one; for in such matters it was not an easy thing to deceive the keenly practised eye of van Gulpendam, yet he was quite ready to accept it as sufficient, because he reckoned upon the report as a convenient screen under which to hide himself should matters turn out not quite so satisfactory as his subordinate would make them appear. He had, therefore, written to the landowner a most polite letter in which he thanked him for his information; but in which he at the same time told him that he had reason to think his fears were unfounded, adding that for the future, it might perhaps be advisable not to spread such alarming reports. Strange that, as Lim Yang Bing was telling his tale, these vague rumours of possible disturbance had come up spontaneously to the mind of the Resident, yet so it was. Very probably van Gulpendam could not have explained the fact to himself. Why should the rather late return of Singomengolo--for, as yet, there was no ground for giving his absence any other name--why should that have any connection with those faint rumours of robber bands which had not shown the slightest symptom of having any substantial foundation? No, no, that was out of the question. Van Gulpendam accordingly tried to calm the Chinaman's fears. "But, babah," said he, "surely you have no reason for all this uneasiness. It must, I should think, be no uncommon occurrence for a bandoelan to be delayed for some time on a secret mission--" "No, kandjeng toean," was the reply, "not Singomengolo. He always takes his measures so carefully and lays down his plans so accurately, that he never fails to be with me at the appointed time." "Well, babah," asked the Resident, "in what manner can I assist you?" "All I want," replied Lim Yang Bing, "is for you to give me a few oppassers and your written authority to call upon the dessa people to lend the police any assistance they may require." "But," persisted van Gulpendam, "what do you want the oppassers and the dessa people to do?" "I wish," said the Chinaman, "thoroughly to search Kaligaweh. I don't know how to explain it, kandjeng toean; but I have a kind of presentiment that Singomengolo has fallen into some trap and has met with foul play." "Very good," said van Gulpendam, "so be it, I have no objection." A few hours later, a numerous band of men was searching Kaligaweh in every direction; but no discovery was made that could throw any light upon the matter. The dessa people were preparing to go home, and the policemen were getting ready to return to Santjoemeh, when a fisherman came up and told them that at Kali Tjatjing he had seen something which looked like three dead bodies. Thereupon the search was at once resumed, and, under the fisherman's guidance, the police proceeded to the spot he had mentioned. At length under a thickly tangled clump of mangrove, quite close to the river bank, they found the bodies of Singomengolo and of one of his Chinese followers. Both bodies were covered with wounds; and so fearfully hacked about with the kris, that death must have been almost instantaneous. The third Chinaman still showed some signs of life when they found him. He had a dreadful gash in the throat; but if it had been attended to at once he might possibly have survived. Loss of blood, however, had now made his recovery hopeless. When the party of searchers reached him he opened his eyes feebly, and muttered some disconnected words. He tried to say something about men with blackened faces, and some of those present thought they could distinguish the name of Ardjan, then, uttering a deep sigh, the man expired. CHAPTER XXVIII. CORRESPONDENCE. The departure of Verstork for Atjeh, seemed to have drawn more closely together the little band of friends which, after the boar-hunt in the Djoerang Pringapoes, we saw so cosily seated around the hospitable board at Banjoe Pahit. The loss of one of their number had strengthened rather than weakened their mutual feelings of friendship. We said the loss of one of their friends; but in this case that is hardly the correct word to use; for, though William Verstork was far away, yet he continued to dwell in the memory of them all, and he was perpetually the subject of their conversation. It was, however, not only that affectionate remembrance which held the friends so closely united. Letters were continually passing between them, and Verstork was kept well informed by his friends at Santjoemeh of all that concerned themselves privately, and also of the events which form the subject of our story, and in which they all played a more or less prominent part. Edward van Rheijn had, under the influence of van Gulpendam, for a time grown somewhat cool towards his friends; but when he began to gain a deeper insight into the real character of the Resident, and began to see with what cynical selfishness he turned everything to his own advantage, his feelings towards his friends became as warm as ever they had been before. He wrote a long letter to Verstork about his successor at Banjoe Pahit, in which he showed him how mischievous and destructive was that man's influence in the formerly thriving district. Everything, he said, was rapidly going to ruin, the rice-culture was being woefully neglected, and the second crops shared the same fate. Breach of contract was now an almost daily occurrence, inasmuch as the once so orderly and industrious population, was fast getting lazy, listless, in fact utterly unfit for any regular work whatever. In one word, the entire district was visibly deteriorating, and could look forward to nothing but a future of crime and misery. On the other hand, the opium den, the gambling hells and the pawn shop, were in a most flourishing condition, and produced large incomes to the farmers of those sources of revenue to the Dutch treasury. In order to satisfy the inordinate passion for gambling and for opium, smuggling was rapidly on the increase, and theft was of daily occurrence; nay, there were even ugly whispers of robber bands, which were said to have been organised, and to have already begun their criminal operations. Van Rheijn concluded his letter with these words: "The bandoelan Singomengolo--You remember the scoundrel who was present at the dreadful Amokh scene at Kaligaweh, and who afterwards arrested baboe Dalima--has been found murdered close to Moeara Tjatjing, and two of his Chinese followers have shared his fate. I have every reason to believe that this crime had nothing to do with robbers; my opinion is that it was a pure case of revenge; for on the bandoelan's body there was found the sum of sixty-eight guilders, and this plainly enough shows that robbery could not have been the motive of the murder. There is another very remarkable circumstance in this case, and it is this: Besides the money, I told you of--there were found on him five small copper boxes, which are precisely like the two little boxes you took possession of at Kaligaweh, and in the Djoerang Pringapoes. Indeed, I must tell you that I am now beginning to see what a fearful curse the opium trade is to the country. I make that confession the more freely to you, as you recollect, no doubt, that some little time ago I had not made up my mind on the question. Such, in the few months of your absence, has become the condition of Banjoe Pahit; and--to fill up the cup of misery--a rumour is now current that the land-tax is to be raised, and that the other already existing taxes are to be exacted with much greater severity; while, at the same time, fresh burdens will be heaped upon the shoulders of the natives. In one word, money grabbing in every possible shape and form, in the form of compulsory labour, in the form of duty on salt, in the form of import and export duties, in the form of opium dens, of gambling booths, in the shape of pawn shops,--everywhere extortion, the most wrung out of the poor wretched Javanese. William! William! where must all this end? I can foresee nothing but calamity--there must come a crash. It may come sooner or, it may be, later; but come it must. For the condition of Banjoe Pahit is by no means exceptional. It may much rather be looked upon as typical of the state of the entire island of Java." August van Beneden wrote to his friend to tell him all that had occurred with regard to the impending trials of the Javanese Setrosmito, and of his daughter baboe Dalima. He wrote as follows: "Just fancy, William! The Government have thrown all kinds of obstacles in the way of my appearing as defending counsel in these two cases. You will hardly guess what reasons are given for this opposition. The objection is, that perhaps I might have to be called as a witness in both cases. It was a rather clever dodge; but, as you may suppose, I stuck to my point. The whole question has been submitted to the Judge Commissary of the court of Santjoemeh; and, when I had declared that I had witnessed nothing, and that therefore my testimony could not be called for, after I had formally stated that I had no pecuniary interest whatever in the matter, and had consented unconditionally to abide by his decision, the Judge withdrew his opposition, and permitted me to plead in both cases. But he further said that, should I be unexpectedly called as a witness, he could not allow me to be sworn.--And now, William, pray attend to the reason which he gave for that decision. He could not allow me to be sworn because, although I am undertaking this defence gratuitously and do not expect to receive any fee; yet, as defending counsel, I must be looked upon as having an indirect interest in the acquittal of my clients, and am not, therefore, in the eyes of the law, a perfectly independent and unbiassed witness! Now what do you think of that? I freely admit speaking as a man and as a lawyer that the decision is correct, quite correct; but, what if that principle were to be applied to all witnesses that appear in court? Would not the testimony of all the bandoelans, the opium-hunters, the opium-den keepers, 'et hoc genus omne,' much rather lie open to suspicion? It is an admitted fact that all these men speak under the direct dictation of the opium farmer, and that, moreover, owing to the rewards which the law allows them, they have a most direct and material interest in procuring convictions. Oh, William! our entire legal system--and especially our treatment of the natives in opium cases--is most lamentably deficient. "The charges against Setrosmito and baboe Dalima will be brought before the native court, and it is but very seldom that counsel are heard there. It is my intention, therefore, to appear as counsel only in the case of Setrosmito. With regard to Dalima, should she be found guilty, she will have an appeal to the Superior Court at Santjoemeh, and then I shall have to conduct her defence with as much vigour as possible. You may ask perhaps why make that distinction between the two cases? Listen to me, and bear in mind that I am acting under van Nerekool's advice. "You have probably heard that Singomengolo, who in both trials was to have been the principal witness, has been mysteriously murdered. At first I thought that his removal was all in favour of my clients; but I have since ascertained that the chief bandoelan has left behind him a sworn deposition of all the facts, and that it will be received as evidence by the court. Thus his death is a positive and serious injury to our cause, inasmuch as we cannot now confront him with Lim Ho, and with the defendants. I fully expected to have been able to lead them into a long and angry discussion, in the course of which, I have no doubt, that several facts would have come to light, which would have enabled me to prove that the father committed the crime of which he stands accused, under the most extenuating circumstances; and clearly to bring out the absolute innocence of the daughter, and the brutal violence to which she has been subjected. Now, however, we are in a very different position. At the preliminary inquiry before the Judge Commissary, Mrs. van Gulpendam has stated that she was quite unaware of Dalima's absence from the house on the night in question; and thus the girl now lies under very serious suspicion of having left the grounds of the Residence for an improper purpose. You remember, of course, that on the morning of our boar-hunt she appealed to the fact of her having received leave of absence both from the njonja and from nonna Anna. Whereupon you asked her whether these ladies would bear witness to that fact. You recollect also that she at once replied in the affirmative. But you will ask perhaps: 'How about Miss van Gulpendam?' Well, William, that is another very mysterious business! The common report is that the Resident's daughter has gone to Karang Anjer on a visit to the Steenvlaks. But, no sooner had the inquiry about Dalima begun, than the Resident said that his daughter had gone to Europe, and that she intended to stay for a while with an aunt of hers who lives in Switzerland. But the most curious circumstance is that in the lists of passengers of all the ships which have, within the last few months, sailed for Europe, the name of Miss Anna van Gulpendam can nowhere be found. You know how inquisitive are our gossips at Santjoemeh--Well, the public--that public which sees everything, hears everything, and pries into everything--has made every possible endeavour to find out what may have become of Miss van Gulpendam; but without the slightest success. The Resident has been pressed on the point by many an indiscreet busy-body, and he treats the whole thing in a very light and airy way. He has concocted some tale to the effect that his daughter, in company with two English ladies, left by a boat from Tjilatjap, that she started for Port Adelaide, and from thence intends to take the mail-boat to England. Not a soul, of course, believes a word of the yarn, which is all the more apocryphal from the fact that the father has never yet been induced to mention the name of the ship in which the young lady is said to have sailed. Some anxious souls amongst us have actually gone the length of telegraphing to Acraman, Main, and Co. of Adelaide, and the answer they received was:--'We know nothing of the arrival of three ladies from the Dutch Indies.'--Van Nerekool is frantic, that you may well suppose. A few days ago he was talking about going to Karang Anjer to inquire after his lady-love, for whom he has still the deepest and warmest affection. He has been there and has returned as wise as he was before. He will, I have no doubt, write to you and tell you, poor fellow, all about his adventures. I rather fancy, indeed, that he has done so already. The sum total of all this is, my dear William, that my clients' affairs are in a very bad state; but I do not despair. I shall do my very utmost to save the poor creatures. To spur me on to further exertions, I have the fact that poor Dalima is, as the saying is, in an interesting condition; so that the consequences of Lim Ho's detestable misdeed are already showing themselves. Will this circumstance be of any use to me at the trial? I doubt it much. We have no legal proof of the outrage and, therefore, I think it will be best for all concerned to hush the matter up as much as possible. All right-minded men, however, are moved with the deepest sympathy for the poor girl; and should she be discharged, or after she has left the prison, will be ready to protect her. She will need all the support she can get; for, after her father's condemnation, she will be homeless, and, disgraced as she is by van Gulpendam's assertions, she will not be able to get a place anywhere either as baboe or in any other capacity. However, time brings counsel!" It was a letter from Grenits which brought Verstork news of the double escape of Ardjan and his father from the jail at Santjoemeh, and told him of the consternation which that event had spread in official circles. The young merchant wrote to his friend, and said: "The Resident tries to appear perfectly indifferent to the escape of the prisoners, and whenever it is talked about treats the matter with much unconcern. But it has been remarked with what feverish anxiety the fugitives have been pursued. I can assure you that, when the regular police were at fault, the whole army of opium-spies was pressed into the service. But since Singomengolo and two of his Chinamen were found murdered--and murdered too without having been robbed--the very gravest anxiety has been felt; and a report was current that the guard at the Residence had been doubled. There is not a word of truth, however, in that rumour, and I can positively deny it. The two sentries, as usual, march up and down before the door of the high and mighty one; but the officer who commands that honourable corps of civilian soldiers has assured me that the cartridge box in the guardroom at the Residence has not even been unlocked. A good job too; for if those heroes should begin to fire ball-cartridge, loyal and peaceful citizens will be in considerably greater peril than the offenders. But, for all that, I am heartily glad that the fellows have got clear away. Their escape may not be legally justifiable; but a most grievous piece of injustice has thus been partially rectified. The father was driven to his reckless deed by the brutal conduct of the police towards his children, while the son had no hand whatever in the opium smuggling with which he was charged. You know that perfectly well, and the public knows it as well as you do. My own little affair with Mokesuep will now very shortly come before the high court of justice. The case is an extremely simple one. I have admitted that I did give the fellow two good slaps in the face, and my confession has been confirmed by the evidence of the man himself, and by that of Lim Ho and of Grashuis. Acting on van Beneden's advice, I have not pleaded any extenuating circumstances; because we do not wish to bring up poor little Dalima's name. The doctor has given a formal certificate to the effect that no outrage has been committed, and thus there is no possibility of legally proving the offence. And yet we are all of us morally convinced that a gross outrage was perpetrated, but--when shall we see justice dealt out fairly in India?" It was, however, van Nerekool's letter which made the deepest impression on Verstork, though he had read the other communications with very great interest. The young judge told his friend all about Anna van Gulpendam's sudden disappearance and what had taken place since she left. He said: "I have done all I could possibly do to meet her again; but to no purpose. Not only have her parents taken every precaution to make a meeting impossible; but Anna herself was determined not to see me again when I had at length persuaded Mrs. Meidema to let me know when I might expect to find Anna at her house. Now she is gone--and I received a letter from Sapoeran; but, my dear friend, it is a letter which robs me of all hope. She writes: 'My union with you is utterly impossible, you cannot, you must not think of making me your wife after the infamous proposals which have been made to you. You will say, perhaps, that a child is not guilty of the actions of her parents and cannot be held responsible for them. In that you are perfectly right, and I must tell you that my conscience is as clear; and that, if in my present forlorn condition I may be allowed so to speak, I, at this present moment hold up my head as high as before I knew anything of my mother's designs. But to be always face to face with the man to whom the odious propositions were made, to be ever conscious, even in our tenderest moments, of the fact that I was flung to the man I love as the price of dishonour, that is a prospect which is to me utterly unendurable. You are a gentleman, and as such, you would no doubt always have treated my parents with deference and with the proper show of respect; but to know that all this must be a mere empty show, put on in deference to a daughter's natural affections,--Oh Charles! that would have made life an intolerable burden to me, and must in the end, have destroyed your happiness also.' William, my dear friend, these lines sounded to me so full of despair, while at the same time they are so full of love, that they made me the happiest and, at the same time, the most wretched of men. I can fully enter into her feelings--I can understand her deep disgust at the actions of her parents; and it is for that very reason that I now, if possible, love her still more ardently than before. Her noble character stands clearly revealed in every word of her letter and commands my respect and admiration. I often ask myself how can such a child have sprung from such parents? It must be by a freak of nature that two such depraved creatures could have begotten so noble a child. How is it possible that amid such surroundings Anna has remained spotless and pure? To us who hold the cynical opinion that with our mother's milk we imbibe our mother's faults, it is an insoluble enigma. But, you see William, all this only serves to increase my affection for the lovely girl who happens to have crossed my path of life. What will be the end of it all? That is a question I often seriously put to myself; but I can find no answer to it. There are moments when I recoil from my very self; for I am beginning to discover within me certain feelings which I hardly dare to analyse. Are these feelings to be accounted for by the obstacles which my love to Anna has encountered? Would they ever have arisen in my breast if the course of my love, like that of so many of my fellow-men, had run smoothly along? I cannot tell; for the ideal which once I formed of married life is so strangely different from the storm which now rages within me, that I sometimes cannot repress a painful smile when I call to mind my visions of days gone by. Then woman was to me an ethereal being rather than a companion of flesh and blood who can herself feel the passion she inspires. You know, my dear friend, how little, hitherto, I have been accessible to what is called love. Well, now I am a different man. At times I feel as if a burning fire were consuming me. There are moments when painful yearnings arise within me for that pure and lovely being, for that proud maiden, whose very chastity and purity attract me with irresistible power. She flies from my love--and, oh William! I confess it to you though I confess it with shame--that there are moments in which I not only long to make her mine, but in which I madly swear that at any price she shall be mine. And then--alas that I should have to say so--in this storm of passion there is nothing tender, nothing sentimental; but it is simple passion which masters me, the mere selfish and senseless raging of the grossly material man, who is prepared to fling himself, by force if need be, upon the object which he has determined to obtain. "After the receipt of that last letter I have repeatedly written to Anna. Again and again I have told her of my love. I have conjured her not to trample upon my affection. I have begged, I have entreated, I have prayed her not to refuse me her hand. Her parents would surely not persist in rejecting me; my worldly prospects might improve; indeed, I let her know that, as far as mere money was concerned, she need have no anxiety whatever; for that one of my mother's sisters had left me, not indeed any very considerable sum, but yet a competence. I told her that I must succeed in getting an appointment far away from the abode of her parents, and that, if life in India was really unbearable to her, we could cross the sea and go to Australia; that we might there marry and live quietly and forgotten by all, yet happy in our mutual affection. All this I wrote, and a great deal more; but, my dear friend, I received not a single word in reply. Regularly my letters have been returned to me and always unopened. Then I began to see that her determination was not to be shaken. With her own hand she enclosed my letters in an envelope and with her own hand firmly and boldly wrote the address. There could be no mistake about it; it was indeed her own handwriting. What was I to do? What could I do? I was in the most excited frame of mind; yet the huge mass of arrears with which the courts at Santjoemeh are overloaded would not allow me to ask for even a single day's leave of absence. I felt that I must get away--that I must fly to Karang Anjer; for I was persuaded that even yet I might induce Anna to look with less coldness upon my love. At length my last letter was returned to me unopened as all the others had been. As I held it in my hand a strange feeling of dread seemed to come over me for--the address was not in Anna's handwriting. Hastily I tore open the cover. Yes, there was my letter, unopened, and upon it were written these few hurried words: 'Anna van Gulpendam has left Karang Anjer!' You may perhaps be able, William, to understand my feelings as I read the words 'Anna has left Karang Anjer!' and not another syllable to give me a clue as to where my darling then was. Who could have written those few words--it was certainly not Anna's hand, that I could see at a glance. But who could it be? Was it a woman's hand at all? The writing was regular, the letters were fairly formed; but they told me nothing. One thing I felt quite distinctly, namely that, at any cost, I must get to Karang Anjer or else anxiety and suspense would kill me. The only question was, how to get away. You know that my superior officer in the High Court of Justice is a friend of van Gulpendam, and thus I knew I could not venture to ask him for leave of absence, I am glad I did not, for had I done so, I feel convinced that every one of my steps would have been watched. Happily, however, help came from an unexpected quarter. I became seriously indisposed. Congestion and feverish attacks made me wholly unfit for work, and though I was not forced to take to my bed, yet the doctor was so uneasy about the state of my health, that he insisted upon my starting at once for the hills; for, he declared, immediate change of climate was the only remedy for my complaint. You may imagine my feelings of joy when I heard this. I said, however, as quietly as I could, 'Well, doctor, is there any particular spot to which you advise me to go?' "'I fancy,' he replied, 'Salatiga will be about the best place; it lies pretty high up, 1800 feet I think.' "'Would not Wonosobo do just as well?' I asked, with assumed indifference. "'Have you any preference for that place?' he asked. "'Oh no,' I replied, 'not exactly a preference; but the Assistant Resident there is a friend of mine and I know several of the landowners in the neighbourhood. At Salatiga I shall be quite a stranger and must feel very lonely.' "'Well then by all means,' said the doctor, 'go to Wonosobo. In fact it lies up higher still, quite 2200 feet, that will be still better for you.' "The necessary certificate was soon signed, and in two days I was seated in a travelling carriage and was off on my way to the hills. Wonosobo, as you probably know, is 73 miles from Karang Anjer; but what were they in my eyes? Was it the hope which began to dawn within me, or had a reaction already set in? I cannot tell; but this much I know, that from the very commencement of my journey, I felt as if fresh life had been infused into me. In any other frame of mind the trip would have been highly interesting; for the country through which I passed was enchantingly lovely. I traversed the mountain district of Prahoe which is quite 8000 feet above the sea-level; then I went through the Dieng plateau, that classical volcanic region which the German naturalist Franz Junghuhn has so graphically described. My road then took me along Goenoeng Panggonang and Goenoeng Pakoeodja with their still active solfataras and their springs of boiling water; along the Telerep, that shattered old volcano whose very appearance testifies of eruptions and convulsions which defy description; along the Telogo Mendjer, the deep crater-lake inbedded in walls of rock and offering one of the loveliest basins in the whole world. Then further along the western slopes of the Goenoeng Lindoro, the fairest and most symmetrical volcano in Java which rises to a perpendicular height of fully 10,000 feet above the sea-level; and thus, at length, I arrived at Wonosobo. But for all this I had no eyes. I passed unmoved by all these marvellous beauties of nature, which in the shape of pyramids, of jagged mountain-ridges, of steep and towering rocks, of dashing mountain torrents, of thundering cataracts, of magnificent lakes, of green table-lands, of picturesque valleys, of dizzy ravines, of deep, dark precipices, of hoary forests, of delightful coffee and tea plantations, moved before me like some wondrous and ever varied panorama. One only thought possessed me: Anna! and I had but one object in view, namely, to hurry on as quickly as possible and to get to the end of my journey. "'Come coachman, drive on, drive on!' was my only cry to the Automedon who certainly did his best and plied his long whip with merciless dexterity. "But when I arrived at Wonosobo my impatience was far from being satisfied. "The kindest reception awaited me, and the Assistant Resident had prepared for my entertainment on the most liberal scale. You know the family Kleinsma, so I need enter into no details. The journey had the most beneficial effect upon my health; but yet I had to allow several days to pass before I could safely venture on a trip to Karang Anjer. I made use of my stay to tell my host something, at least, of the state of my affairs. I explained to him that I was most anxious to avoid observation and to keep away from Poerworedjo the capital of that district. "'Indeed,' said Kleinsma, 'you will find that no easy matter. In that case you will have to go by way of Kaliwiro, Ngalian, Peniron and so to Karang Anjer.' "'Will that take me far out of my way?' I asked, thinking that he was alluding to the length of the journey. "'Not at all,' was his reply. 'On the contrary you will by that road cut off about one third of the distance; but you cannot travel in a carriage. Our roads about here are very good; but in the interior you can travel only on horseback. You will moreover have to take a guide; for the roads cross one another and form so intricate a web, that it forms a very labyrinth and, even the most accurate map would hardly save you from losing your way altogether.' "That prospect however could not deter me. I passed eight days in that beautiful climate, and then, when all feverish symptoms had left me, I undertook the journey which was, in truth, a rather perilous one. The horse which Kleinsma had procured me was a stout Javanese mountain nag, and, in spite of the difficult nature of the ground, he always managed to get along at the rate of about six miles an hour. When the road lay up the mountain, the good beast would take to galloping without my having to use whip or spur. When the path ran downhill, if the descent was not too steep, he would keep up a decent trot or a good fast walk. At Ngalian I changed horses and obtained a still better mount than my former one. Thus I got over the Besser mountains, over the spurs of the Midangang and of the Paras and Boetak hills, and, at four o'clock in the afternoon, I reached Karang Anjer. "Alas! William, all this trouble proved in vain. I could gain no information about my dear Anna. I intend to let you know all about my disappointment on a future occasion; for the present, I have not the courage to go on." CHAPTER XXIX. AT KARANG ANJER. AN ACQUITTAL. Yes, it was true enough, all poor van Nerekool's trouble had been absolutely in vain. When he got to Karang Anjer he found in Mrs. Steenvlak a most amiable and highly accomplished lady, who, in her husband's absence, received him most kindly and hospitably; but who, as regards Anna van Gulpendam, refused to give him the slightest information. The young lawyer did his very best--he questioned and cross-questioned his hostess; but he had to do with a shrewd and clever woman who was quite able to hold her own, and would give him no direct answers. Most amiable Mrs. Steenvlak was no doubt; but he could get no information out of her; and all her replies to his oft-repeated questions left our despairing lover in the greatest perplexity. He begged and entreated, and she listened to him with the most unwearying patience, she showed even the deepest sympathy for his distress; but nevertheless nothing could move her to divulge anything. "Yes," said she, "Anna has been staying with us for the last few weeks, and I am happy to say, Mr. van Nerekool, that I succeeded in becoming her friend, and in obtaining her confidence. I will tell you further, that in her despair, the poor girl has told me everything--you understand me, do you not, when I say everything? She has told me of your mutual affection, and she has also shown me the barrier, the insurmountable barrier, which must for ever keep you apart." "Madam!" cried van Nerekool in dismay at her words. "And," continued Mrs. Steenvlak, "I am bound to tell you that I think the dear girl is right in every word she says. Of a marriage between you and her there cannot possibly be any further question; not even if you could succeed in winning the full consent of her parents. Utter misery for both of you would be the inevitable result of so foolish a step. Anna is, in my opinion, quite right when she maintains that a woman must have an unsullied name for her dowry." "But, madam!" passionately cried van Nerekool, "Anna is blameless and pure!" "I am speaking of her name, Mr. van Nerekool, not of her person. A man must be able to pronounce his wife's name without having to blush as he mentions it. Her parents must possess his esteem, and they must be worthy of his respect. If those conditions do not exist then, for both man and wife, existence must soon become intolerable. It must become so to him; for he will always have to be carefully on his guard, weighing every word he speaks or leaves unspoken; and this restraint soon must banish all real confidence between them. Every heedless expression, on the other hand, would inevitably inflict a wound upon her, and, in the most innocent utterances, she needs must see some hidden meaning. In fact, under such circumstances, no compromise is possible." "But, Mrs. Steenvlak," insisted van Nerekool, "I have proposed to Anna that we should leave Java altogether and go to Australia, to Singapore, or to any other place she might prefer. There no one would know the name of van Gulpendam, and we might live only for one another--and--and, I believe that our love would enable us to forget the dreary past, and thus a compromise might very easily be possible. As far as I am concerned no single word would ever drop from my lips which would allude to the past--I know how deeply any such hint must wound her, and, believe me, I love her far too dearly to inflict upon her the slightest pain." "Oh yes, Mr. van Nerekool, of that I have no doubt whatever; but, you see, that very silence, that very reticence on your part would be most painful to her; and it would ultimately become too great a restraint upon you also--you could not possibly bear it. But, for the matter of that, I must tell you that, with respect to your letters to her, she has never told me a single word." "How could she do so?" asked van Nerekool, "all my letters have been returned to me unopened." "I am glad of it," replied Mrs. Steenvlak, "there again Anna has acted most wisely; and in acting thus she has spared herself, and you too, much useless sorrow. Every communication from you, every effort on your part to remove the existing obstacles between you, could only be most painful, and could not possibly lead to any good result." "Madam!" cried van Nerekool. "You said, for instance, just now, that you have proposed to Anna to go to Singapore, and to be married there. But, just consider, how could you have undertaken that journey? Separately? I do not suppose that you could intend so young a girl to undertake such a journey alone. Together? You feel at once how such a proposition would have wounded her modesty and her feelings. No, I am glad indeed that she had the courage not to read your letters." "But, Mrs. Steenvlak," said van Nerekool, adopting another tone, "supposing that I were prepared to accept the present circumstances as they are?" "What can you mean?" asked Mrs. Steenvlak in some surprise. "Supposing," continued he, "that in spite of her parents, in spite of all that has occurred, I should be prepared to make her my wife?" "Mr. van Nerekool," replied Mrs. Steenvlak very seriously, "do not speak so wildly I pray. In spite of her parents! That must mean that you are prepared to accept all the consequences such a step would entail. In other words, that you are prepared to show her parents that respect and that esteem which they could justly claim from you as their son-in-law. But do you not see that by thus acting you would be making yourself contemptible in Anna's eyes?--you would be taking away the last support the girl still has to cling to in her exile. Believe me, the cruellest blow you can strike a woman of her nature, is to prove to her that she placed her affections on one unworthy of her. The unsullied image of him whom once she loved--whom she perhaps still fondly loves--gives her, in spite of the obstacles which separate you from one another, the best consolation in her sorrow. And that pure remembrance will be to her, together with the consciousness of having acted strictly in accordance with her duty, her chief support in a lonely life." As Mrs. Steenvlak was speaking, Charles van Nerekool had covered his face with his hands. At her last words however he sprang up from his chair, he took her hand and said: "A lonely life you say? Oh, do tell me where Anna now is. I will go to her, perhaps even yet I may succeed in winning her--tell me where to find her!" "Mr. van Nerekool," rejoined Mrs. Steenvlak, very quietly, "do not, I pray you, try to do any such thing. She has given me her fullest confidence, and I do not intend to betray it. She has told me every detail, she has consulted me about the line of conduct she ought to adopt; and in all she does she has my sanction. Do you think that I would throw fresh difficulties in her way? You surely cannot wish me to do so." "But," cried van Nerekool passionately, "what does she intend to do--what kind of plans has she formed?" "She simply intends henceforth to live forgotten." "Perhaps to mar--!" cried he. "My dear sir," hastily interrupted Mrs. Steenvlak, "do not pronounce that word, I forbid you to do so. In your mouth such a word conveys a foul calumny. She has refused your hand--she will never marry another." "But what then does she intend to do?" "I have told you," replied Mrs. Steenvlak, "she intends to live in perfect solitude and oblivion; and thus she wishes quietly to await death, which, she hopes, will soon release her from all her troubles." "She is ill then?" cried he in dismay. "No, she is not ill," replied Mrs. Steenvlak; "but such a trial as she has gone through is not at all unlikely to impair a young girl's health; and may very probably shorten her life." "Madam," cried van Nerekool, "your words are torture!" "I am telling you the simple truth." "Oh tell me--where is she?" "Never," was the quiet reply. "Is she in Java? Is she in India?" "I will not give you the slightest clue." "Has she gone to Europe? Oh, I beg and pray you, have pity upon me and deliver me from this fearful suspense?" "I will tell you nothing at all. Do you understand me, Mr. van Nerekool? nothing at all." "Can I not in any way move you to pity?" "No, Mr. van Nerekool, I intend to remain true to my word and, moreover--" "But, madam," interrupted van Nerekool vehemently, "you must take pity upon my wretchedness!" "Moreover," continued Mrs. Steenvlak calmly, "I feel certain that in acting as I am doing, and in keeping absolute silence, I am preventing much future misery." "You are hard, you are pitiless!" cried the young man in despair, as he rushed from the house. For a couple of days longer he stayed at Karang Anjer, at the house of the regent of that dessa who entertained him with the utmost hospitality. He cross-examined his host. "Yes--he knew nonna Anna well. She had frequently, in company with the njonja, called upon his wife; but she had gone away without letting anyone know where she intended to go to. His wife and he thought that she had gone back to Santjoemeh." The unhappy lover kept wandering about the neighbourhood, making inquiries everywhere. He tried to obtain some clue from the loerahs, from the overseer, from the postmasters round about; but nowhere--nowhere--could he obtain the slightest information. Either these people really knew nothing, or else they were obeying orders and would tell him nothing. This seemed to van Nerekool most likely, as he heard at a certain posting station that no one could tell where the young lady had gone. During his wanderings he sat down at many a guard house, and again and again he put the same question: "Could anyone tell him where to look for the young European lady?" But it was only to receive the same answer over and over again, "No, sir." In his distress and perplexity, he at length left Karang Anjer and went to Tjilatjap, for he wanted to find out whether there was any truth in the report which van Gulpendam had so assiduously circulated, namely that his daughter had gone to Europe. Very luckily for him the regent of Karang Anjer possessed a travelling carriage which he placed at the disposal of his guest. This was a most fortunate thing for van Nerekool; for he would otherwise have had to travel the fifty-two miles to the harbour on horseback, and, in his desponding frame of mind, the fatigue of so long a journey might have had the most serious effect upon his health. The road from Karang Anjer to Tjilatjap lies on one continuous plain which is but very little above the sea-level, while the hills which rise close to the Indian Ocean run north and south, thus preventing the free circulation of land and sea breezes and rendering the atmosphere exceedingly oppressive and stifling. When van Nerekool reached the harbour, he found that there also he could obtain no tidings. Neither the assistant resident of that place, nor the harbour-master nor any of the agents of the steam Navigation Company--nor, in fact any of the other shipping agents, knew anything about the departure of a young girl to Australia or to any other country. For months past no strange ship had sailed from that port; and the boats of the India Navigation Company which run to Australia, do not go along the South coast of Java but get into the Indian Ocean by the Bali straits. It was evident, therefore, that van Gulpendam's tale of two ladies under whose escort Anna travelled to Europe, was a merely trumped-up story. Weary and sick at heart, van Nerekool was forced to return to Wonosobo by way of Bandjar Negara. There he stayed for a little while longer, and when, in that magnificent climate, he had almost entirely regained his health and strength, he went back to Santjoemeh where he found his friends, August van Beneden, Leendert Grashuis, Theodoor Grenits and Edward van Rheijn anxiously waiting to welcome him home. "Well?" was the question of all of them as soon as they had made inquiries after their friend's health, "well?" The question alluded of course to his inquiries, for the anxiety and the efforts of van Nerekool had remained no secret among them. "Nothing!" replied van Nerekool fetching a deep sigh, "I have found out nothing, not even the faintest clue." "No more have I," added Grenits. "You?" asked Charles in surprise. "Yes," rejoined the young merchant. "I also have been at work. I have made inquiries amongst all the commercial men in Dutch India; but from all sides I have had but one answer. 'No young girl in any way corresponding to the description of Miss van Gulpendam has started from any of the shipping stations.'" "You think therefore--?" asked van Nerekool. "I think that Miss van Gulpendam has not left Java at all." "But where on earth can she be then?" cried van Rheijn. "God only knows!" sighed van Nerekool. "But her parents?" observed Leendert Grashuis, "we can hardly suppose that a young lady of her age could have thus disappeared without consulting her parents." "No," said van Rheijn, "especially as we know that Resident van Gulpendam is not exactly the papa to play tricks with." "Yet," rejoined van Nerekool, "I am of opinion that neither the Resident nor his wife have the least idea where Anna now is." Thereupon he told his friends all about his conversation with Mrs. Steenvlak; and when he had given them a detailed account of all that passed between him and that lady, he concluded by saying, "She only could give us the information we want if she would." "If that be so," remarked van Beneden, "we ought to search in the neighbourhood of Karang Anjer." "I have done so," was van Nerekool's reply, "I have most minutely searched the entire district. I have questioned everybody whom I considered in the least likely to know anything about her movements; but all my inquiries have ended in nothing." "Well, Charles," said Grashuis, "in that case I can see nothing for it than to leave the solution of the mystery to time." "To time!" sighed van Nerekool, "I suppose you are right; but, my dear friends, I am most wretched and most miserable." "You must get to business and, by hard work, seek to divert your thoughts," said van Beneden. "I can assure you that your absence has not diminished the arrears of work at the Court of Justice. At all events, brooding over your troubles can do no good whatever." "Well," replied van Nerekool, "to work then. God grant that hard work may have the effect you anticipate." "That reminds me," remarked Grenits, "that to-morrow I shall have to appear in court." "You? what for?" "Don't you remember Mokesuep's business?" "Oh, aye, for the cuffs you administered to that scoundrel!" "That will mean eight days for you, friend Theodoor," observed van Beneden, "eight days at least of seclusion. Well, that's not so very formidable after all." August van Beneden was not very far wrong, for the court condemned Grenits to ten days' imprisonment and to pay a fine of twenty-five guilders for the assault, which, though it had led to no serious consequences, was no light offence, inasmuch as it had been committed on the person of a witness in a case of opium smuggling. The sentence would probably have been much more severe; but the court made allowance for the natural feelings of indignation called forth by the shameful conduct of the opium police towards a defenceless young girl, at which the plaintiff Mokesuep had been present without interfering to protect her from insult. No sooner had the sentence been pronounced, than every hand in a crowded court was stretched out to Theodoor Grenits, while Mokesuep was shunned like some venomous reptile. The public did not look upon the punishment in the light of a degradation at all; and Grenits became the hero of the hour. A few days after this, baboe Dalima's case came on before the native court at Santjoemeh. The Javanese girl most emphatically denied that any opium had been found in her possession, she even swore that she had not been searched for any such object. She gave a very simple and unvarnished account of all that had taken place; but the testimony of Mrs. van Gulpendam and that of Mokesuep contradicted her assertions. The former handed in a written statement to the effect that she had not given the baboe leave to spend the night outside the Residence; but had only given her permission to start on the next morning, and that she had, in fact, set her a pretty heavy task of needlework to finish before going. Mokesuep swore that the girl's story was a fabrication from beginning to end, that she had violently resisted the search for opium and had bitten Lim Ho's ear as he made an attempt at holding her hands. That, in this struggle with the bandoelan, her dress had become torn and deranged, and that she might very probably have received a few scratches, but that there had been nothing resembling the outrage of which she accused Lim Ho. The medical officer also was examined, and he maintained that there could have been no such assault as the girl complained of; he spoke only of some slight abrasions which had occasioned a trifling loss of blood. In all this evidence the demoralising influence of the opium farmer could plainly be seen; but however conscientious might have been the new president who now occupied Mr. Zuidhoorn's place, the evidence must have compelled him to dismiss the complaint lodged by Dalima against Lim Ho. The court, therefore, proceeded to deal with the charge of opium smuggling of which the baboe stood accused. The deposition left by the murdered bandoelan Singomengolo was positive enough. It stated most distinctly that, hidden in the folds of her sarong and under the waistband, he had found a box full of opium. That the box in question had been delivered to Controller Verstork and had been sealed up by him. That the contents had been examined and were found to consist of eight matas of opium of coarse and blackish appearance, and of a sourish smell, and that, therefore, it could not have been obtained from the opium farmer in a legitimate way. But, when the little box was produced in court and was shown to Lim Ho, he hesitated for a while, and at length said that the struggle which was going on prevented him from actually seeing Singomengolo produce the box and that, moreover, his ear was very painful, and he was at the time busy in trying to staunch the blood. He could not, therefore, declare that he had seen the box at all until Singomengolo handed it to Verstork. It thus appeared that the man, though a vile scoundrel, was not wholly devoid of better feelings. Not so, however, with Mokesuep. When he entered the witness-box, bound by his oath to utter nothing but the truth, he did not for an instant scruple to say that he had actually seen Singomengolo discover the box hidden in the girl's clothing; and in giving his evidence he entered so minutely into detail and gave so graphic a description of the poor girl's struggles, that he fairly disgusted all present. Very ominous murmurs of disapprobation arose among the crowd. This went so far, that at length the president had to interfere, and to request the witness to confine himself strictly to the facts, as all such embellishments and elaborate descriptions were clearly superfluous. The chief-djaksa appeared as public prosecutor, and, as this was Dalima's first offence, he demanded that she should be condemned to three months' hard labour. August van Beneden however stood up for the defence, and drew the attention of the court to the fact that the small box which had been produced, was precisely similar to that other one which the bandoelan pretended to have discovered in the hut of Setrosmito the defendant's father. He further mentioned the rather strange coincidence, that, on the body of Singomengolo, after his murder, a number of other little boxes were found, all precisely similar again to that produced against Dalima. He called the coppersmith from whom the bandoelan had procured these boxes, and this man swore that Singomengolo had bought twelve of them from him, at the price of seven guilders. August van Beneden took advantage of this man's evidence to remind the court of the dodges and tricks which all opium hunters were well known to employ in order to secure the conviction of any one they might accuse. Finally he altogether disputed the authority of the individuals who had testified to the nature and value of the opium. The document they had drawn up as containing the result of their examination, he rejected as absolutely valueless; inasmuch as it was the work of Chinamen who were no chemists at all; but had come to the conclusion that the drug could not have been obtained through the regular channels, simply on the evidence of colour, taste, and smell. He pointed out that, as a general rule, the worst opium smugglers were the farmers themselves, and that, in hardly any two cases were their wretched mixtures alike. In fact he defied even the most expert chemist to establish anything like perfect similarity between two different decoctions of the same farmer. The young advocate was completely successful; and the court at Santjoemeh declared that the charge against baboe Dalima had not been satisfactorily established, and therefore acquitted her. She was set at liberty there and then, and the treasury was ordered to pay the costs of the prosecution. The verdict was hailed with thundering applause, and the public became so demonstrative that the president had peremptorily to call for silence. Mokesuep left the court amidst looks and gestures of the most profound contempt and much hissing and hooting. He got into his carriage as quickly as he could and immediately drove off. It was evident that the public was well aware of what had taken place in the hut by the Djoerang Pringapoes, and that everybody knew the odious part Mokesuep had played in the transaction. The trial was no sooner over than a crowd of well-wishers surrounded the unfortunate Javanese girl Every one could plainly enough see the painful situation she was in, and pitied her accordingly. Had the law allowed further inquiry, Lim Ho might have found himself in a difficult position; but as no legal remedy existed, the public showed the greatest sympathy towards his victim. On all sides she received congratulations on the happy issue of her trial, on all sides she heard kind words and friendly offers. Van Nerekool, Grenits, Grashuis, van Rheijn, and van Beneden, were of course close to the poor creature who, though deeply moved by the sympathy she received, yet could not refrain from shedding tears of sorrow as she thought of her blighted youth. Van Nerekool proposed to place her in the house of an aged couple where she might be sure of the kindest treatment in return for such services as she could render to the mistress of the house. Dalima heartily thanked the young judge for his great kindness; but she told him that she intended to take up her abode with her mother until after the event she was expecting. The poor girl was a genuine child of nature, and felt no false shame as she spoke of her misfortune. She took that opportunity, however, to gain some information about nonna Anna. But, as we know, Charles van Nerekool could tell her nothing more than that her young mistress had spent some time at Karang Anjer, and thereupon had disappeared without leaving any clue as to her whereabouts. "Karang Anjer? where is that?" asked Dalima, musingly. Van Nerekool gave her the necessary directions, and then he proceeded to join his friends whom Grenits had invited to his house to drink a glass together in honour of van Beneden's victory. It was getting somewhat late in the day and the sun's rays darting down almost perpendicularly made the heat most oppressive; but a good pair of horses soon brought our friends to Grenits' door. Glad enough to get under cover, they all rushed in, and Grenits at once cried out to his servant, "Sidin, get us some fizz quickly!" and a few moments after the young men were congratulating van Beneden on his well-merited success in a glass of sparkling Veuve Clicquot. After the first burst of excitement was over, and when they had begun to discuss somewhat more calmly the incidents of the trial, a feeling of disappointment began to prevail. "Is it not enough to make one despair altogether of the future of our fair Indian possessions," cried Grashuis, "when we come to think that we are sitting here congratulating one another on the issue of such a case as this? Every single person, including even the members of the court itself, is convinced that poor little Dalima is the victim of a most detestable outrage and yet, not only does the real culprit escape scot free, but the innocent girl herself was very near being found guilty, and punished for a purely imaginary offence! Could such a thing ever have happened at home? There must be something radically wrong in our entire colonial system." "I will tell you in one word," replied Grenits, "where the mischief lies, it is the abominable opium trade which is at the bottom of all this, which overrules and demoralises everything out here. You heard the head-djaksa's prosecution? Did you ever see anything more neatly put together? Did you notice how cleverly all the witnesses who might have spoken in Dalima's favour were got out of the way? Verstork sent to Atjeh, Miss van Gulpendam smuggled away somehow or other, while Mokesuep did not fail to put in an appearance." "The brute!" muttered van Rheijn. "Yes," continued Grenits, "and if it had not been for our friend August, that poor girl would have been found guilty as so many others have been who have been falsely accused of opium crimes. Just now you asked, Leendert, whether any such thing could possibly happen in Holland. I do not take upon myself to say what may be possible or impossible there; but this one thing I do know, that our whole opium-system is derived from thence, that year by year the opium revenue keeps on rising by several millions; and that thus the passion for opium is, by every possible means, excited to its utmost pitch. I further know that our Government and our Government officials are thus compelled by the authorities at home to support the opium farmers and to wink at all their dirty tricks with their attendant train of fatal consequences. Is it not enough to make one hide one's head for shame when we come to think that we belong to a nation whose sordid love of money and grasping avarice not only tolerate such a state of things, but actually fosters and encourages it?" All present shook their heads and sighed; for the words Grenits uttered were the simple truth. "But," inquired van Rheijn, "ought we to blame the nation for all this? Ought we not rather to find fault with the Government which countenances such abuses?" "The Government!" impatiently exclaimed Grenits, "a nation always deserves the Government it has. Yes, of course, it is the Government which issues the orders and which acts; but the nation looks on and--is loud in its praises of a minister who can boast that he makes as much out of the business as can be squeezed from it. It seems to me that the Dutch people have either lost their manliness altogether or else are on the verge of idiocy. It has no eye, no heart for its colonies, no feeling whatever, nothing, only one single thought: 'that minister balances his budget admirably!' And then the minister, feeling certain of success and applause, actually in his place in the House allows himself to perpetrate jests which an ordinary individual would be ashamed to utter in a pot-house. Then his friends applaud and the legislature seems to consider his jokes a very pretty exhibition of wit." Fortunately, however, at this moment Sidin came in, and his appearance checked the young merchant's indignant flow of words, a thing which his friends might not have found it easy to do. The Javanese servant held two formidable looking letters in his hand, which he offered to his master. "By Jove," cried van Rheijn, "two official letters! I bet you that it is the order to send you to jail." Grenits made no reply, but quietly opened one of the letters. "Only a very commonplace marriage announcement," said he when he had glanced at the paper; and then, when he had looked at it again, he cried out: "I say, boys, here's fun! just listen to me:--'Mr. and Mrs. Lim Yang Bing and Mr. and Mrs. Ngow Ming Than have the honour to announce the approaching marriage of Mr. Lim Ho, son of the former, to Miss Ngow Ming Nio daughter of the latter. The marriage ceremony will take place on the third of September next, and a reception will subsequently be held at the residence of Mr. Lim Yang Bing in the Gang Pinggir at Santjoemeh.'" "Piping hot," remarked Grenits, "poor Dalima's trial is scarcely over!" "A Chinese wedding must be a curious affair," said van Rheijn. "You are going eh?" "You may go if you like," returned van Nerekool, "I have not the slightest objection, if only you will allow me to stay at home. I could not, for the life of me, hold out my hand to that scoundrel Lim Ho, or offer him even the most formal congratulations." "Come, come," said Grashuis. "There will no doubt be a great crowd, and it will be easy enough to get out of that part of the ceremony without being remarked at all; who is to notice it?" "That's right!" laughed Grenits, "that's it 'des accommodements avec le ciel!' But just let me see what this second document is about. Upon my word, Edward, you would have won your bet. The day after to-morrow, I have to surrender myself into the custody of the jailer to undergo my sentence of ten consecutive days of imprisonment." For a few moments, a silence fell upon all present. They quite justified Grenits' conduct, and in fact applauded it as a generous outburst of manly indignation. But yet the fact of ten days' imprisonment threw a gloom over these young men, who were so full of vigour and life. The condemned man, however, was the first to regain his cheerfulness, "Well, my friends," cried he, "you will try and preserve me from feeling too lonely, I hope." "That we will!" cried one, "I have a splendid novel by Ebers, called Serapis, it has only just come out, I will send it you." "And I," exclaimed another, "I shall have my piano sent up to the jail, then you can strum away to your heart's content." "And we will come and sit with you as often as we possibly can, you will not lack company." "That's best of all!" cried Grenits gaily. "I will bring my fiddle." "Yes, and I my flute." "Then," laughed Grenits, "we shall get the whole jail to execute a sarabande de condamnés." "The sarabande is all very well," remarked van Beneden; "but I think we might do something better than that." "Well, what is it?" asked all in chorus. "You remember, do you not, that as we were seated together under the Wariengien tree on the green at Kaligaweh, I proposed making an experiment in opium smoking, in order to find out what its effect really is. Very well, on Sunday next, we might carry out that plan." "Capital! a capital idea!" "But," asked Grashuis, "who will provide the opium and the pipe?" "Leave that to me," replied van Rheijn, "don't trouble about that, I shall get all we require." "All right, gentlemen," said Grenits, "that's a bargain!" As he spoke he shook hands with his friends, and the company broke up. CHAPTER XXX. BABOE DALIMA'S JOURNEY. A long the rough mountain path which runs winding through the volcanic region of Soembrieng and Lindoro, baboe Dalima, a few days after her acquittal and release, was stepping along with her usual firm and springy tread. She was clad with the utmost simplicity in sarong and kabaja, but was as neat and tidy as in the days when she was Anna's favourite servant. On her shoulder, tied up in a shawl, she carried a bundle containing probably some articles of wearing apparel. We must notice also that she was not barefooted; but wore a pair of sandals to the use of which she seemed perfectly accustomed. It was evident, therefore, that the girl intended to take a long journey, while her outward appearance showed that she must already have got over a considerable amount of ground. How then did Dalima get to the spot where now we find her, at so great a distance from Kaligaweh, and what was the object of her journey? Immediately after her release, she had made, as we saw in the last chapter, some anxious inquiries after nonna Anna. When she was told that her young mistress had gone to Karang Anjer and had then disappeared without leaving a trace, her simple brain had set to work; and there arose within her the determination to go and seek for Anna on her own account. She had but little comprehension of the social relations which exist between Europeans; but somehow her instinct told her that her beloved Nana must be in distress. She felt that the dear girl must be sorely in need of a companion, and so the faithful creature at once devoted herself to share the load of sorrow with her former mistress. But, Karang Anjer was a great way off--in her estimation the distance seemed infinite. Her friends in the dessa had told her that it lay somewhere yonder, not far from the great sea, and near to the territory of the Queen of the south, a mysterious being of whom the Javanese stand in the greatest awe. But all that could not deter her. She made up her mind to summon up courage and to plod resolutely on, even though, as her friends again had informed her, the road might take her along seething solfataras, along burning mountains, along dizzying precipices and through lonely forests. She could travel only by day for fear of the wild beasts. Other fears she had none; for she knew that no man would wantonly molest her; and her outward appearance was not such as to suggest that she had anything to lose. And yet she did possess a treasure, which she had anxiously hoarded and had tied up in a handkerchief and now was carrying with her in the bundle which hung from her shoulder. When she lay in prison at Santjoemeh, nonna Anna had, from time to time, sent her small sums of money; van Beneden also and van Nerekool when they visited her to gather particulars for her defence, never failed to leave a few coins with the poor Javanese girl. All these presents she had thankfully accepted and most carefully saved up; for she always had an eye to the future. In this manner she had collected quite forty guilders, and this money, she had before starting, changed into twopenny and fivepenny pieces, knowing well that the sight of guilders or rixdollars might attract the attention of the evil-disposed, and might bring trouble upon her. This money had, in fact, for some time been constantly present to her mind, and had been the cause of some hesitation before she finally could make up her mind to undertake her long journey. She had anxiously hoarded it to meet the expenses which she knew must soon come upon her. The money was dear to her, for she would not be a burden upon her poor mother, who, now that her father was a prisoner, had already trouble enough to feed her little brothers and sisters. This money she had clung to, for young as she was, she knew that a time of need would soon be at hand. But all these considerations vanished as she thought of her Nana--then she wavered no longer. Her own unhappy condition, indeed, gave her but little uneasiness. She knew how kind-hearted her country-women are, and she felt sure that in the hour of need, she would find some hospitable roof to shelter her; and that even the very poorest would reach her a helping hand, and would gladly share her modest ration of rice with a traveller in distress. Once, at Kaligaweh, Dalima had received a visit from M`Bok Kârijâh, the loathsome confidante of Mrs. van Gulpendam. Perhaps it was at that lady's suggestion that the old hag went to see her. She had whispered to her something about a medicine made from the Clitoria Ternatea. At first poor Dalima had not understood what she meant and had opened her eyes wide with surprise--she knew nothing, of course, of the connection between the filthy old hag and the Resident's lady. But when the crone pretended to sympathise with her in her misfortune; and proceeded to speak out more plainly--then the girl's indignation and disgust knew no bounds, and she drove the old hag from her presence, threatening to rouse the entire dessa against her should she venture to show her face again. Her nature revolted at the foul crime which M`Bok dared to suggest, such practices she was quite content to leave to the more highly favoured daughters of civilisation. Thus then had she started on her journey, and, with the little bundle which contained all her earthly possessions on her back, she had trudged over hill and dale; and after eight days of steady walking, she was beginning to draw near to her destination. Whenever, at nightfall, she reached some dessa she would at once seek out the native priest and tell him that she was travelling to Karang Anjer in search for her father whom she hoped to find there. Perceiving the plight she was in, the good man then used generally to direct her to some kind-hearted woman, who willingly took her in for the night, and not unfrequently refused to take the small coin she tendered in payment for her lodging. Sometimes even they would give her a couple of small parcels of boiled rice as provision on the road. But she was not always so fortunate. Sometimes it happened that she could not well make out the directions given to her, and thus night would come on before she could reach any inhabited spot. Then she used to beg for a resting-place on the bench of some guard-house, and her prayer was never refused. But, on one occasion, even this poor resource failed her. Her road that evening lay through a dense wood, the sun was about to set, and under the thick foliage it soon grew pitch dark. She could keep to the path only by looking upward and following the narrow strip of sky which showed through the tree-tops stretching along in the same direction as the rough road. The stars were twinkling brightly, and for some time she listened breathlessly hoping to hear some sound, such as the late crowing of a cock, or the measured strokes on the rice tomboks, which might lead her to some human dwelling. Then she hurried on again; but she did not come across even a detached guard-house. At length she was suddenly brought to a standstill by the shrill discordant "meoh! meoh!" of a peacock which, perched in the upper branches of a lofty tree, thus announced that the last glimmer of light was disappearing in the west. Dalima stopped in terror, for she well knew that the peacock is hardly ever heard in the woods unless a tiger is near. Soon, however, she recovered her presence of mind, and quickly glancing round, she plunged into the wood and began to climb into a tree which stood close by. She was not indeed very well fitted for such gymnastics; but carefully clambering up, she, with some trouble, managed to reach one of the lower branches. As soon as she got there she felt safe. A panther will rarely attack mankind, and the tiger, she knew, does not climb trees. So she tried to make herself as comfortable as she could on the branch which was, fortunately, quite thick enough to bear her weight, and grew out horizontally so as to form a kind of seat. But that night of nearly eleven hours seemed to her of interminable length. She did not dare to give way to sleep, fearing that she might lose her balance and fall to the ground, and the branch on which she tried to settle herself, and the trunk against which she leaned, were covered with a thick knotty bark, which pressed into her limbs and gave her great pain. Again and again she attempted to change her position, but the relief thus obtained was only temporary. Then she tried to assume the squatting attitude which is customary with the natives; but, in clambering up the tree, the sandals had dropped from her feet, and the rough bark, cutting into the soles of her feet, soon made that position unbearable. To these discomforts was added the plague of myriads of insects, such as ants, mosquitoes, sundry kinds of beetles and other pests, which settled upon her, and caused the most frightful itching, while her hands, which supported her, and with which she had to keep her balance, were not always free to brush the tormentors away. She had also been obliged to drop her bundle, which contained her clothes, her money, in fact all she possessed; but she felt no anxiety on that account. No human being was present in that wood, and even if any one had been lurking about, he would hardly have been wandering in the dark just under the tree where she was seated. As for the animals which might be roving about, they would not disturb her little bundle. So the night crept slowly along, and it was with a deep sigh of relief that the poor girl at length welcomed the first faint streak of grey which began to tinge the eastern horizon. But she had much longer still to wait and endure the pain which every instant was getting more acute. For, during the night, she had heard very alarming sounds. The hoarse and terrible hoh! heoh! of the tiger had resounded more than once. There was no mistaking that well-known cry, and however painful her position might be, she could not yet venture to descend. Indeed the tiger is never more formidable than just at dawn of day--then he prowls about noiselessly like a huge cat seeking for his prey--then he hurries off to the nearest water hole to quench his burning thirst, and to lay in his provision of water for the day. In one word, she knew that the hour of early dawn is the most dangerous; and she felt that she must still have patience. On that branch she must remain perched until the sun was fairly above the horizon, and the daylight had penetrated the foliage, driving all evil beasts to their lairs. Soon she found that she had done well to be patient, for once again the peacock gave forth his screeching meoh! meoh! thus hailing the dawn as he had the evening before greeted the last glow of the setting sun. Thus Dalima knew that the tiger was close by. So she kept her seat high up on her branch, shivering with cold in the keen morning air, while she watched the faint streak of light gradually expanding and deepening, and the stars fading away one by one. Gradually the rosy tint of morning began to spread to the zenith, driving back the damp shadows deeper and deeper into the wood. Oh! how slowly time seemed to go by! how lazily the sun seemed to rise! And no wonder; for the agony she was enduring was growing well-nigh intolerable. She twisted and stretched her cramped limbs as she anxiously peered all around. Under her feet all was as yet dusky and grey. She could only just descry her bundle lying under her on the grass, and her sandals at the foot of the tree; but overhead the light was already shining, and the choir of birds was beginning to carol forth its morning hymn of praise. But how slowly time crept on! She saw the sky assuming a deeper and ruddier hue, while the East was clad in glorious purple. The clouds, the trees, the leaves, the branches above were all bathed in gold, and presently the light broke through to the bottom of the wood. Then the sun rose in his majesty and flooded everything in dazzling radiance. At length Dalima felt that she could safely leave her perch, and after giving another look round and observing the same precautions she used in clambering up, she began to descend. As soon as she reached the ground in safety, she stretched her numbed limbs, then she took up her bundle, in which she fortunately found a couple of parcels of rice. Swarms of ants were evidently anxious to share her breakfast with her; but these she soon got rid of. A little stream was murmuring close by, to this she hastened and bathed her face, her feet, and her arms in the cool refreshing water. Thus, having somewhat recovered from her painful night-watch, she sat down and enjoyed her rice, and a draught from the clear brook. Then with fresh courage and renewed strength, she continued her journey. The whole of that day she plodded along patiently until she came to a guard-house, where she heard the joyful news that the next dessa she would come to was Karang Anjer. "How far is it from here?" she asked. The man looked puzzled; for your Javanese is not much of a hand at judging distances. However, after a few moments' reflection, he told her that she would have to pass about fifty telegraph poles. Next day, with fresh courage she resumed her journey, and, after a good half-hour's walking, she reached the dessa. She lost no time in inquiring for the house of Mrs. Steenvlak and, having found it, she sent in her name to the njonja, adding that she was the baboe of nonna Anna. During her stay with the Steenvlaks, Anna had often, very often, spoken about her faithful servant, and always in terms of the greatest kindness and affection, so that Dalima found the most cordial reception. But, as regards the main object of her long journey, the poor baboe could get no information whatever. Prayers and entreaties were alike in vain. To all her questions she could obtain no other answer than, "I do not know." "But, njonjaa, Nana has been staying with you here," cried the poor girl. "Yes, Dalima, that is so." "But where is she now, njaa?" "She has gone away." "Yes, njaa; but where is she?" "That I cannot tell you." The faithful young girl twisted and turned her questions in every conceivable way--most plaintively she lengthened out her "njonjaaa"--but she could get no answer. Did Mrs. Steenvlak really not know what had become of Anna? That was hardly probable. Might she perhaps have some suspicion that Dalima had been sent on her errand by van Nerekool? That was precisely what the lady did think probable. She knew that the girl was well aware of the affection which existed between her mistress and the young lawyer, and, moreover, Dalima had, in the course of conversation quite innocently remarked, that Charles van Nerekool had visited her in the prison at Santjoemeh, and that she had received money from him. Mrs. Steenvlak was very far indeed from harbouring any sinister suspicions against Dalima; she saw perfectly well that love for her mistress was the only motive that had brought her all that distance. But yet, she could not help thinking that this devotion to Anna was mingled with some feeling of gratitude for the European gentleman who had showed himself so kind to Dalima in her distress. And again, might not the girl honestly imagine that in bringing the lovers together she was promoting the happiness of both? These considerations made Mrs. Steenvlak very guarded in her replies. "Njonjaa," began Dalima again, "do tell me where I may find my Nana." "I have told you already, and I tell you again, that I know nothing about it," was the lady's answer. "But, njaa, tell me, do you know where she has gone to?" cried Dalima, wringing her hands. "No, I tell you--how should I, baboe?" "But you know at least in which direction she went?" asked the girl, still sticking to her point. "Of course," replied Mrs. Steenvlak, "I know that." "Oh, then, tell me," cried the sobbing girl, with a ray of hope in her swollen eyes. "I may not, I cannot tell you, baboe." "But why not, njaa?" "Because, before Anna left me she made me promise her--" "What, njaa?" "That I would let no one know--no one, do you understand me, Dalima?" "That does not apply to me, you may trust me, njaa." "No, no," replied Mrs. Steenvlak, "I will trust no one--Anna was particularly anxious that I should not speak." "But, perhaps she is in need of my help, njaa. Where can she be? She is not fit to take care of herself, she is not accustomed to it. Do tell me," sobbed the poor girl again, "I must find my Nana." "No," said Mrs. Steenvlak firmly, "a promise once made must not be broken, you know that as well as I do, Dalima." For all her firmness, the kind-hearted lady was deeply moved by the devotion of the poor creature, who had already gone through so much suffering in her little life, that it was a wonder her temper had not been soured altogether by misfortune. She was half sorry that she had given her word to Anna; but yet, until she was authorised to do so, she did not feel justified in breaking silence. "The best advice I can give you," she said at length, as she looked with much compassion at the girl who sat sobbing at her feet, "is to return at once to Santjoemeh, or better still to Kaligaweh. Can I do anything for you to help you on your journey back?" Baboe Dalima sadly shook her head. "Come, come, you will want some money on the road, eh?" and opening her purse she took out four rix-dollars and put them into the girl's hand. Without uttering a word, Dalima accepted the gift, and carefully tied up the money in her handkerchief. Then she rose, respectfully kissed Mrs. Steenvlak's hand, and disappeared. As soon as she got outside, she muttered, "That gives me so many more days to look for Nana." Dalima's wants were but few. A couple of pence for her lodging, some twenty, or five and twenty cents for her food--that was all she required. Instead of leaving Karang Anjer, she continued to wander about the neighbourhood. She questioned, she inquired, she managed to penetrate everywhere. She could do what van Nerekool, as a European, and in his position as judge, was not able to do. She would, for instance, sit down at every small fruit and coffee stall she found on her way. At one place she would sit down and eat some rice, flavoured with red pepper; at another place again she would purchase some rasped cocoa-nut sweetened with the syrup of goela-areng; at another little stall again she would sip a cup of coffee or eat a bunch of ramboetans. These delicacies she could purchase for a very few cents, sometimes they cost her nothing at all; for the woman who kept the stall would look strangely at her, and when she produced her money would quietly put it back, and say: "Never mind, keep that for your baby, and take another cup of coffee, you are welcome to it." But Dalima did not sit down at these stalls to enjoy herself--she did so because it gave her an opportunity of asking questions and making inquiries. But, alas, all her perseverance and all her endeavours were, for a considerable time, fruitless. During the first few days of her wandering, she learned absolutely nothing. She was beginning to despair, and to give up all hope of success. She was, however, soon to have her reward; for on a certain day, as she was slowly walking through the dessa Prembanan, which is situated about three miles to the southwest of Karang Anjer, she obtained some information which seemed to point in the right direction. A woman told her that, on a certain day, about two months ago, one of the poles of a light litter suddenly snapped, and a fresh pole had to be procured. The bearers put down the litter and, as a bamboo of sufficient length and strength was not very easily found, some considerable delay ensued. During this time of waiting, a nonna had stepped out of the litter, and had taken a seat at the stall, and called for a cup of coffee. "A nonna, you say?" cried Dalima breathless with excitement: "are you sure of that?" "Oh, yes, quite sure," replied the woman. "She was dressed exactly like all Javanese girls, in a very simple sarong and a plain cotton kabaja, and she had sandals on her feet. But those feet had evidently been but little exposed to the sun, they were very small, very white, and not at all flattened out as our feet are. I fancy that not even the princesses at Sala have fairer and tinier feet; but for that matter she might perhaps have been a princess." "Why do you think so?" asked Dalima. "Well, she spoke Javanese; but entirely with the a sound so that I had some difficulty in catching what she said." "You spoke to her then, ma?" "Yes, I did," replied the stall-keeper, "she spoke with something of your accent." "But what did she say to you, ma?" "She first asked for coffee and then for ramboetans." "Did she say anything more?--do try and remember." "Oh, yes; she further asked me how far it is from here to the dessa Sikaja, and I told her that it is about two miles off." "Anything else?" cried Dalima impatiently. "Then she asked how far Sikaja is from the dessa Pringtoetoel; but I could not tell her that, as I know nothing of the country beyond our own district." "Did you hear her say anything more, ma?" "No." "But ma, did you see her face?" "Certainly I did," replied the woman, "why not?" "And?" asked Dalima, anxiously. "Her features were those of a white woman, though rather dark. Her face and hands, however, did not correspond in colour with her feet. In fact I suspected at the time that she had stained them. But perhaps the nonna had been running about a good deal in the sun." "And her hair, ma?" asked Dalima. "It was tied up in a knot." "What colour was it, ma?" "It was as black as yours; but much softer, it looked like silk and was wavy. Oh, yes! now I feel sure she was a nonna." "Yes," thought Dalima, "it is she;" and then she continued aloud: "She asked you no other question, ma?" "No, nothing else," replied the stall-keeper. Dalima did not stay long--a quarter of an hour later she was on her way to Sikaja. How she sped there, we shall see later on. The day after, she reappeared in Karang Anjer; but it was only to fetch the bundle she had left behind her. Then she disappeared, and no one saw or heard anything more of her. Mrs. Steenvlak sent a couple of oppassers to inquire what had become of her; but they returned saying that the girl had gone away, no one could tell whither. "She must have gone back to Santjoemeh," thought Mrs. Steenvlak. "Was I right after all in keeping my word to Anna? Time will show. Anna did seem greatly attached to her baboe; and no doubt, in her present lonely state, the girl would be a pleasant and useful companion." CHAPTER XXXI. THE PRISON AT SANTJOEMEH--THE OPIUM-TRADE AT ATJEH. It was a glorious afternoon in August and the green at Santjoemeh presented a pleasant and most animated appearance. The military band was performing a selection of music and numbers of carriages were slowly moving about among a crowd of pedestrians. The fine turf which, during the west monsoon, gives the square so fresh and pleasant an aspect, was now completely dried up and burnt to a uniform dark brown tint, while here and there the soil, which mostly consists of red clay, was gaping open in wide fissures under the scorching influence of the tropical sun. But at that hour in the afternoon, the sun had already run a considerable portion of his daily course, and was casting his slanting rays through the tops of the tall kanarie trees which, with their dark and glossy foliage, enclose the green as in a frame of verdure. The north-easterly monsoon was blowing freshly along the coasts of Java; it was rustling in the leaves, in the branches, and even far inland it was making its cooling influence felt, pleasantly tempering the heat of the day. The whole of Santjoemeh was astir. Europeans, natives, Chinamen and Arabs were walking about in motley groups. Every one seemed bent upon enjoying the music and upon breathing his share of the deliciously cool evening air. The Resident van Gulpendam and his wife, as charming as ever, had driven up the green in a handsome landau drawn by a pair of splendid horses. They were very busy exchanging greetings and nods on all sides; and distributing their most affable smiles among their friends and acquaintances. Officials of all kinds and of all grades were there and the leading men of commerce; all these, accompanied by their wives and daughters, sauntered about laughing, talking, or enjoying the music. We just now said all Santjoemeh was astir. But yet anyone who was well acquainted with the European world at Santjoemeh--and really it was not very difficult in that small inland town to become tolerably well known to everyone of any social importance--could not help noticing that one small group was wanting; a group which, by reason of its youth, its wit and gaiety, always was wont to impart a certain flavour of mirth to all these gatherings; a group which used to attract the brightest eyes and win the most beaming smiles--this little group was, on the present occasion, conspicuous by its absence. "What can have become of Edward van Rheijn?" "Where is Leendert Grashuis?" "Where can August van Beneden have got to?" Such were the inquiries which might be heard on every side. "Yes, and Grenits, where is he? What has become of our merry Theodoor?" "Theodoor? Why, don't you know--he is in the lock-up?" "Oh, yes, of course, I had quite forgotten; he is in for ten days, eh?" "Ah! well then, you hardly need ask where the others are to be found." "They are keeping him company you may be sure--cela va sans dire." "They are faithful friends these four." "Faithful, you call them? I tell you their devotion to each other is positively edifying. They are simply inseparable." "Hallo!" cried another, "there goes Mokesuep!" "I say, just look; now he is making his bow to the Resident. What a magnificent sweep--his hat almost touches the ground!" "And what a charming smile the fair Laurentia is giving him." "I should rather think so. In that late business of Lim Ho--" "Come, I say! no scandal if you please!" "Scandal you call it; why, all Santjoemeh is talking about it!" "Mokesuep," cried another, "won't go and pay Grenits a visit, I bet!" "He had better not show his nose there; he would find himself in queer street, I fancy!" "Yes, that he would; and no more than he deserves--the scoundrel!" "Look at him now, shaking hands with the Assistant Resident." "He is only a new chum--as soon as he has got to know the fellow--" "Why, then he will do just exactly as the Resident does; he will follow his lead, you will see." "Well, well," remarked another, "such fellows have their value." "Come gentlemen, do keep quiet; let us listen; they are just striking up Le lever du soleil." "The lever of what did you say? That's a good joke--the sun is just setting." "Do be quiet, I want to hear the music." It was the last piece on the programme, and at the moment when a brilliant fugue seemed to celebrate the rising of the orb of day--the actual sun was disappearing behind the hills to the west of Santjoemeh. "Just twelve hours out!" cried one, "either the sun or the bandmaster must have been having a drop too much!" A very few minutes afterwards the green was deserted. However, the frequenters of the Sunday afternoon concert, had been quite right in their surmise. Van Nerekool, van Beneden and van Rheijn--the three "vans," as the wits of Santjoemeh loved to call them, had indeed gone to the prison to pass the afternoon and evening, with their friend Grenits. He, poor fellow, had been condemned to ten days' imprisonment and he had already been in durance vile for some time. As soon as they had had their bath after the usual siesta, they had started for the prison, and at that hour the sun was still high and the streets were almost deserted. They were true friends and they cheerfully gave up these hours of amusement, which were indeed the most pleasant of the whole week, to the poor prisoner. It was a sacrifice, however, which brought its own reward. The apartment in which the young men were on that afternoon assembled, did not by any means wear a dismal appearance, it suggested anything rather than a prison cell. The room was of moderate size and perfectly square. On either side of the door two large windows admitted light and air, and these could be closed by means of Venetian blinds. The door gave access to a tolerably wide verandah, the architraves of which rested on pillars in the Doric style; and this gallery was common to four other similar apartments which served the same purpose as that for which Grenits was immured--namely to deprive their occupants, for the time being, of liberty. That verandah looked out upon a small but cheerful looking quadrangle, very tastefully laid out in grass plots and planted with flowering shrubs all covered with gay and many-coloured blossoms. The little square was enclosed by the buildings which formed the jail, one of its sides being occupied by the governor's house, a building which had a double row of pillars and whose spacious front-gallery was enlivened by a splendid collection of roses of all kinds, amongst which the thick double Persian rose, the fair Devoniensis, the Souvenir de la Malmaison and the fragrant tea-rose were conspicuous. The room occupied by Grenits was very prettily furnished. It had a good table, a very comfortable seat something like a garden seat, and half-a-dozen chairs; all these of the best native workmanship. The walls were hung with four or five fairly good pictures, and a handsome lamp was suspended from the ceiling. The floor was almost entirely covered with tiles and these again were hidden by matting of the finest texture. But the most elegant piece of furniture the room contained was undoubtedly the piano which van Beneden had sent to the prison for his friend's amusement. The bedroom, no less tastefully furnished than the apartment we have attempted to describe, was immediately adjacent to the sitting-room--so that Grenits had not much reason to complain, and his captivity was not very irksome. Said Grashuis, as he entered and looked around: "Why, old fellow! this looks really very comfortable. This is the first time I have ever been inside a prison, and I had no idea the Government took such good care of the criminals it has to keep under lock and key." "That's all you know about it!" laughed van Rheijn, "you ought to go and inspect the other side." "Where? on that side?" asked Grashuis as he pointed to the governor's house. "No, no," said van Beneden, "yonder in that wing, that is where you ought to go and have a look. That would make you sing a different tune." "Shall we go?" cried Leendert as he rose from his seat. "Thank you, much obliged--the smell would soon drive you away. The poor native prisoners lie there huddled together in a space miserably too small for them. The only furniture you would see there is a wretched bench or two, which in filthiness so closely rivals the floor, that the original colour of both has long since disappeared. At nightfall some further ornaments are introduced in the shape of sundry representatives of the tub family--and these utensils presently contribute their fragrance to the already pestilent atmosphere. The prisoners have but a very scanty allowance of air and light, admitted through two small heavily barred openings. The walls are supposed to be white-washed; but are smeared all over with blotches of blood, produced by mosquitoes and other still fouler insects crushed against them by the human finger, and are covered with sirih-spittle and other nameless abominations. All things considered, I believe you will give me credit for acting the part of a friend in strongly dissuading you from paying a visit to that horrid den." "Yes, August is quite right," remarked Grenits. "I ventured to go and have a look at the place yesterday, and I have not yet got over my feelings of disgust. But come, let us change the subject. Edward, your boy has just now brought me a parcel." "Yes, I sent him with it, where is it?" "It is there, just over there on the piano." "My friend," said van Rheijn as he deliberately opened the parcel, "here you have a brand-new bedoedan. You see the bowl is perfectly pure and the stem has never been used. And here is a small quantity of the very best tjandoe--prime quality as Grenits might say." "Oh yes," said Beneden--"that is, I suppose, for our experiment, is it not? How much opium have you there?" "This little box contains about twenty-five matas." "How much may that be?" "Let me see! That comes to about one centigramme." "But is that enough?" asked Grashuis. "Enough? Yes, Leendert, too much!" replied van Rheijn. "Yet Miklucho-Maclay, in his well-known experiment consumed one hundred and seven grains." "Well, if you reckon it up as I have done, you will find that a hundred and seven grains come to only eighteen matas and a fraction." "Very good, in that case we might begin at once." "Now please don't be in such a hurry," put in van Rheijn. "Why should we put it off?" asked Grashuis. "We have now a few quiet hours before us, such an opportunity may not recur." "But, I take it," objected van Nerekool, "our object is not merely to observe the sensations which opium smoking produces." "Methinks," interrupted Grashuis, "that there has never been a question of anything else." "That may be so," replied van Nerekool; "but yet I fancy we must all have some further object in view. Speaking for myself, I should be very sorry indeed to have anything to do with an experiment, whereby--well, how shall I best express myself?--whereby merely the animal side of the question is to be considered." "Yes, and so should I," cried van Beneden. "And so say I," added van Rheijn. "Yet," remarked Grenits, "even from that low point of view the problem would be worth studying. Don't you remember what we saw in the den at Kaligaweh?" "Bah! bah!" cried all in disgust. "Come, no more of that," said van Nerekool very seriously. "If your experiment is to reproduce any scenes like those--then I will take no part in it." "That is exactly my opinion," said van Rheijn, "and I am anxious therefore to give to our investigation a totally different aspect, and to conduct it on strictly scientific principles." "Very well," observed Grashuis; "but who is to conduct this scientific investigation--to do that we need a man of science." "Yes," said van Beneden, "we are no doubt most competent representatives of the judicial, the civil, the mathematical and the commercial branches of the community; but we do not represent the faculty." "Just so," replied van Rheijn; "but I have made provision for that?" "In what way?" "I have invited Murowski to join us." "What? Murowski the Pole?" cried one. "Murowski the snake-charmer?" said another. "Murowski the butterfly hunter?" cried a third. "Yes, gentlemen, Murowski, our learned medical officer. But, if you please, a little more respect for that high-priest of science. Do not, pray, forget that he is the most celebrated entomologist India has ever possessed and that is, I think, saying a good deal in these days when every little German prince gives his paltry decorations and family orders for any complete--or incomplete--collection of insects, or for a bowl of disgusting reptiles tortured to death in arrack. And, further, please not to forget that he is a most earnest observer of all scientific phenomena, a man whose very name will impress upon our séance that stamp of learning which it will need if it is to go forth to the world of science as a noteworthy experiment. Our Pole was in ecstasies when he heard of our experiment, and when I asked him to undertake the management of it, he promised to bring his thermometers, his stethoscopes--You will see what a dose of learning he will give us!" "That's all very fine;" said Grenits, "but meanwhile he has not turned up." "Perhaps," suggested van Beneden, "he is hunting butterflies." "Excuse me," replied van Rheijn, "in addition to his other merits, the man is also a great lover of music. Nothing in the world would induce him to miss the afternoon concert on the green, moreover he is deeply smitten with Miss Agatha van Bemmelen, and she, no doubt, is there in the family coach." "Oh, ho!" said Grenits, "that is a pretty little butterfly, she has money too." "Oh, yes, your Poles are no fools." "But how long will he be?" "He has promised me," replied van Rheijn, "to join us as soon as the music is over; and he is the man to keep to his word." "Meanwhile we might get up a little music on our own account," suggested van Beneden. "You see," said Grenits pointing to the piano, "Charles is at his post already." Van Nerekool, who had taken but little part in the conversation, had, in fact, risen and gone to the piano. At first, in an absent kind of way, he struck a few chords; but presently, under the influence of thoughts which always reverted to Anna, he had struck up L'absence of Tal. The room soon was filled with melancholy strains and sentimental trills. "No, no!" cried van Rheijn, "let us have no music, you see what effect it has. Just look at him sitting there, why there are tears in his eyes! A most pernicious thing, believe me, in this climate and in this horrid dungeon." The last chord had died away and still van Nerekool remained moodily seated at the instrument, his head bent forward and his hands resting heavily on the keys. "I say, Charles!" cried Edward, "no more music now. Come and sit here by me, and, while we are waiting for Murowski, I have a letter to read to you which I have just now received from Verstork." "From William!" exclaimed van Nerekool; and, rousing himself at the name of his friend, he took the seat van Rheijn indicated to him. "It is strange," he continued, "I have had no answer to my letter." "No more have I," said van Beneden. "Nor I!" cried Grenits. "I don't much wonder at that," replied van Rheijn, "he is much too busy yonder at Kotta Radja. You may fancy how much he has to do, as he is the only civilian in that military world." "Yes," said Grashuis, "a military world which has become a very small one now that our centralising system has come into operation." "A system, Leendert, which might more properly be styled a system of isolation," said Grenits; "it won't be very long before our grand army will be sitting there like Robinson Crusoe on his desert island without any other means of communication with the surrounding inhabitants than that of bullets." "Come, come, Theodoor," interrupted one, "no politics." "Especially, I suppose, no Atjeh politics," laughed Grenits. "Oh aye, I know all about that, we Dutchmen dread that subject as a cat dreads water; but, my friends, remember that for all that, it is a question which involves the most vital interests of our country and its colonies." "Now that'll do, that'll do!" they cried. "All right, my friends," said Grenits with a laugh, "I must not, of course, inflict upon my kind friends who deign to come and while away the time of a poor captive, a subject of conversation which is distasteful to them. But, yet, I cannot make out what in the world William can have to control at Kotta Radja. The native population which has, nominally, remained faithful to us and shows its good faith by treacherously attacking our soldiers--" "Now there you go again--do shut up!" "Well, but;" persisted Grenits, "this is no politics, I do not suppose he has to look after the mess of the soldiers and marines!" "Bah!" cried van Rheijn somewhat contemptuously, "what does a merchant know about such things? It is very much as if I should give a dissertation on the state of trade in madapollams." "You are right, quite right," laughed Grenits, "I confess myself wrong. Let the cobbler stick to his last. But now for William; what does he write about?" "Here is his letter," said van Rheijn; "but I ought first to tell you that I sent him a short account of the changes which have taken place in his district of Banjoe Pahit since he left it. I told him what lamentable influence the too compliant temper of his successor has had upon the condition of the population. To this letter of mine I have his reply, and I need hardly tell you that his views on that subject are not couleur de rose. But you had better hear what he says: "'All you have told me, dear Edward, about the state of affairs at Banjoe Pahit has made me very sad. Agriculture neglected, breach of contract a daily occurrence, and the fatal passion for opium increasing day by day! Alas, alas! can all this be justly put to the account of my successor? Should you not rather cast the blame upon me? Such terrible changes surely never take place suddenly. No, no, if indeed matters have changed for the worse as rapidly as you say, then I fear there must have been some antecedent cause for this wretched state of decay. I will tell you frankly, my friend, that my conscience bitterly upbraids me. It tells me that I have not always done that which it was my bounden duty to do; and that I have not set my face against the abuse of opium as sternly and as rigidly as I should have done. It is true, of course, that the opium den was established at Kaligaweh before I came to the place; and, so far, my conscience is clear. But the evil had not then assumed the proportions which makes it such a terrible curse at present. At that time there were still a great number of inhabitants who never touched opium. I might then, had I only been firm enough, have insisted upon the fact, that the opium den ought not to be maintained there--that, in fact, it had no reason to exist, inasmuch as it did not, at that time, provide for any local need. I did so, it is true; but weak and timid as I was, I did so in a half-hearted way. I did not forcibly enough insist upon the terrible fact that this same opium den was a most insidious means of seduction; and that, in the end, it must inevitably bring the poor people to ruin and misery. "'That is where I feel I am to blame. I may, perhaps, in self justification, try to persuade myself that, as a civil servant, I was bound to do all I could to augment the national income, that, by not opposing with all my might the use of opium, I was helping, as far as I could, to redress the balance of our national expenditure; that, even had I tried to check the havoc wrought by this baleful drug, I could have expected no assistance from my superior officer van Gulpendam, nor yet have hoped for any support from the authorities at home; that, on the contrary, they would between them have crushed me like a bit of glass had I dared so much as to lift up my little finger against this infamous stop-gap of our national finances. I have tried to persuade myself that any such action on my part must have plunged my relations, who for the present and, as far as I can see, for the future, are entirely dependent upon me, into the direst poverty-- "'But, my dear Edward, all this sophistry profits me nothing; my conscience refuses to be lulled by any such specious arguments. For conscience is inexorable, and it loudly cries out that I have failed to do my duty as public servant in not vigorously standing up for the poor natives to whose protection I was pledged. Alas! the past cannot be recalled! "'If it were lawful, under any circumstances whatever, to rejoice over the death of any fellow creature, I think I might rejoice over the death of Singomengolo--that detestable bandoelan who has caused so much trouble and misery. But, why do I talk of exulting over his death? Some equally worthless fellow will no doubt be found to take his place and to undertake the dirty work of an opium spy. The farmers are wealthy enough to create, so to speak, such creatures every where, and the Government! why--the Government--yes, it will, with a smile, pocket the foully earned money amidst the applause of the Dutch nation.'" "I say!" exclaimed Grenits, sarcastically, "don't you think it is about time to cry 'Shut up?'" But van Rheijn went on quietly reading, not heeding the interruption: "'I was just now blaming myself for not having carried out my duty more strictly. I hardly need tell you that I have made a solemn vow to act very differently in the future, and that I have determined henceforth to protect, to the utmost of my powers, the natives against the horrors of opium. But, that is more easily said than done. For, whom can I protect out here in Atjeh? The native population? Good Lord! all I see about me in this place resembles anything in the world rather than a native population. There is no such thing. Just let me tell you what is going on here. General van Swieten landed in 1873, and from that moment the natives have retired as our troops have advanced. When he returned to Europe we were holding a piece of ground which was completely deserted by the natives, and on which not a single Javanese was ever seen. I ought to except the narrow strip of land between the river Atjeh and the sea, the so-called dominion of Marassa, which, at most, supported no more than two thousand souls, and these, let me tell you, were by no means addicted to opium. Later on, when Colonel Pel took the command, things did not improve, on the contrary, the state of affairs grew gradually worse and worse. The natives were more determined than ever in their resistance to the hated invaders; and though that officer did try to introduce something like order into that most puzzling place Kotta Radja, which was entrusted to his care, and it must be said, did so with conspicuous success, yet daily his position became, if possible, one of greater isolation. Very soon no other communication with the surrounding natives became possible than by means of arms; and when they did meet it was not for the purpose of amicable conferences, but only to do one another as much injury as possible. You know all about this, for history must have told it you. The very first thing, indeed, which arises and flourishes under the folds of our Dutch ensign is not a house of prayer or a school, but an opium den. That is the first token of civilisation and the first blessing our rule brings with it. Among these conquered races there was not, as yet, a single man who would smoke the stuff; but yet an opium farmer had to be found. And why? Look you, Edward, when I put that question seriously to myself, then I can find no other answer than this one, namely: that it was necessary to make the Dutch people believe that the time of public expenditure on Atjeh had passed, and that now the place was beginning to pay. You may remember what a shout of joy was uttered by the daily press in Holland when, in the year 1875, the news arrived that the retail sale of opium in Atjeh was producing a yearly sum of 190,000 guilders, that is 16,000 guilders a month. A few, those who were capable of reflection, shook their heads doubtfully; but not even they were able to estimate the extent of the evil which this apparent gain would inevitably entail. "'It is, however, as clear as day, that no farmer could have been found to bid for the monopoly if the opium had been sold only to the few Marassans who remained faithful to us. Even granting that every single man of them smoked opium--and that was very far from being true, for the lower classes in this place are not nearly so much addicted to the habit as they are in Java; but even granting that--the entire number of smokers could not have exceeded three hundred. How could sixteen thousand guilders a month have been made out of these?--Why, it was clearly impossible, not even if every man smoked opium, drank opium and ate opium. You must consider that the farmer has to pay for the raw material with which the Government supplies him, that he has to pay all current expenses, that he has to make a living for himself, and that he must, moreover, make some profit. Thus I confidently state that, in order to be able to give sixteen thousand guilders for his privilege, he must retail opium for at least three times that amount. But who then are the consumers? Who are the people that bring this so-called profit to our national chest? "'I will tell you, Edward, who they are: "'In the first place, all the native soldiers quartered here. In consequence of the state of war and of the wretched arrangements in camp and bivouac, it is utterly impossible to keep any control over these men, and thus there is no question of repressive--still less of preventive--measures. The agents of the opium farmer prowl about among the encampments and bivouacs and most generously deign to accept, in payment of the poison they supply, the pay and, when that is gone, even the very clothing of the soldiers. "'Now, my friend, I ask you, do you begin to see why, during the Atjeh war, we suffered such terrible losses through sickness, and why our losses still remain so great? Now do you begin to see why all our hospitals are overcrowded? Do you now see what has demoralised our entire Indian force to such an extent, that, if we should have to face a serious rebellion or have to resist an attack on our colonies from any Western power--we can expect very little, or indeed nothing at all, from it? Then just reckon up what every soldier costs by the time he is equipped and drilled and fit to send out to join his regiment in the field. Just calculate what expense the country is put to for keeping all these men in hospital, and then you will be able to judge of the wretched shortsightedness of a policy which has created so fictitious a source of gain. "'I have mentioned, in the first place, the native soldiers as principal consumers of the poison; but the Chinese coolies and workmen also, whom the Government has to hire at an immense cost, from Penang, from Malacca, from Singapore, from Tandjong Pinang, and even from China itself, to occupy the country which the Atjehers have deserted, furnish another considerable contingent to the opium smokers, and consequently to the floating population of the hospitals and to the fixed population of the grave-yards. Who shall dare to compute with anything approaching to accuracy, the sums of money which are thus squandered merely to fill up the gaps which the abuse of opium is perpetually making among this working population? "'And, in the third place, the opium farmer finds his customers among the servants of the numerous officers, civil servants, and contractors; and, though this class of smokers do not entail any loss in the shape of money, inasmuch as the State has not to replace them; yet it must not be forgotten that as a direct consequence of the demoralisation of this class of men, there is at present at Kotta Radja, and more especially at Oleh-leh, a degree of insecurity of life and property, of which in Java you can form not the slightest conception. "'With regard to the moral condition of Oleh-leh, the harbour of Kotta Radja, it is simply indescribable! The things which daily are taking place in the opium dens within and around that spot where the poison can legally be purchased, simply baffle description. "'We saw some horrid sights at Kaligaweh, did we not? Well, my friend, what happens here exceeds everything that the most depraved imagination can possibly conjure up. "'The practices are, in one word, abominable. "'But, you may say perhaps, that if the poison were not to be obtained in a lawful way, men would procure it by illegal means. I say no! most emphatically I say no! Not a single ship can approach the North-West part of Sumatra's coast without being thoroughly searched. Very little trouble and care would be amply sufficient to prevent even as much as a single taël of opium to find its way into that part of Atjeh which is in our occupation. It would be the simplest thing in the world to prevent the import of the poison altogether. "'But no, that is not the object. The object of the Government, on the contrary, is to stimulate the opium trade as much as possible, and if ever the now rebellious population is brought under our yoke, the trade will flourish more vigorously than ever. The Dutch nation must be made to believe that Atjeh really produces a revenue, though, from even a financial point of view, this bogus revenue must result in the direst loss. "'In order to attain that object we have stuck at nothing--we have poisoned and demoralized the civil and military branches of the State--and have degraded men to the level of the beast. And all this merely for the prospect of the rich harvest which the opium trade will yield to the national exchequer as soon as we shall have forced Atjeh to share the blessings of our rule. "'Under these circumstances, you can readily see that it is difficult--that it is in fact impossible--for me to do what I feel it is my duty to do. That duty is incompatible with the position of a Government official.'" CHAPTER XXXII. A SCIENTIFIC OPIUM DEN The reader was here interrupted by a loud voice crying out in the verandah: "Donnerwetter! what has become of Mr. Grenits?" "That's our Pole," said van Rheijn, folding up the letter he was reading and replacing it in his pocket. "There is nothing specially interesting in the end of William's letter, and I do not think it advisable to allow a private communication of this kind to spread beyond our own little circle." The door opened and Dr. Murowski entered. Having shaken hands with the prisoner and greeted the other gentlemen, he said in a queer lingo of his own, made up of Dutch, German, and Polish, but which we will not attempt to reproduce: "Rather behind time, I fear, gentlemen, rather behind time, but donnerwetter--!" "Come, come, doctor," said van Beneden with a laugh, "no strong language if you please. I daresay you fell in with Miss van Bemmelen on the green." The doctor reddened up to the very roots of his hair, as he replied in some confusion: "Well, yes, I did meet her--" "In that case, my dear fellow," continued van Beneden, "you need not trouble yourself to make any apology at all, where there is a lady in the case--" "Stuff and nonsense!" broke in Murowski, "I wasn't in her company for five minutes!" "If that be the case, doctor," said van Rheijn, "we must ask you why you have kept us so long. You knew we were all here waiting for you." "Oh, never mind," put in Grashuis with a smile, "don't press him too hard--our learned friend has probably been hunting some other pretty little butterfly!" "Yes, I can see him," continued van Beneden, "net in hand, running after some splendid Sphynx." "Indeed," growled Murowski, "you seem to have a pretty lively imagination. Sphynx indeed! A funny kind of Sphynx has been after me!" Van Rheijn laughed aloud. "Now, come," said he, "illustrious countryman of Sobieski, of Poniatowski, and so many other worthies in ski, let us have your news--for news you evidently have to tell us. Let us have it. But, mind you, whatever excuse you may have to make--it will have to be a a good one." "As I was strolling about the green enjoying the music," began the doctor, "my chief called me aside and said he wanted to see me at his quarters as soon as ever the concert was over." "Well, what of that?" cried the friends. "A request of this kind," rejoined the Pole, "is, as you know, gentlemen, tantamount to a positive order." "Yes, yes," cried van Rheijn, full of curiosity, "we grant you that; but what important communication had he to make to you?" "No doubt some case of pneumato--" began van Beneden. But Murowski did not give him time to complete his sentence. "He simply wanted to tell me that I am to be transferred to another station." "You are going to leave us?" exclaimed the friends in a breath. "Yes, gentlemen, so it seems--you see I have been a very long time settled in this place," grumbled Murowski, "it must be quite five months and a half." "Well, and where are they going to send you to?" "To Gombong, it appears." "They might very easily have packed you off to a worse place," said van Rheijn, "to Singkelen, for instance, or to Atjeh." "Oh, I have no doubt you are quite right there," sighed Murowski, "but where on earth is Gombong? You must excuse my ignorance, gentlemen," continued he, with a smile, "the study of Indian geography is, I fear, somewhat neglected in Poland." "Gombong," exclaimed van Rheijn, "is in Bagelen." "Indeed," replied the Pole, "I am much obliged to you for the information; but where may Bagelen be?" "Bagelen," said the embryo-controller, with a certain sense of superiority, pointing in the required direction, "Bagelen is only just over there." "Not over the sea then?" cried Murowski, evidently much relieved. "No, no, my dear fellow, not a bit of it; a carriage will take you there very comfortably. But, why don't you ask van Nerekool, he has but just returned from the very place. He knows all about it. Why! he lost his heart there!" "Lost his heart? At Gombong?" asked Murowski, looking from one to the other with a puzzled air. "Not exactly at Gombong; but at all events very close by, at Karang Anjer. Do you know Miss van Gulpendam?" "Pretty Miss van Gulpendam! Of course I do," exclaimed the doctor. "Very well then, Miss van Gulpendam has gone to Karang Anjer, and she has taken our friend's heart along with her." "That's smart," replied the Pole, quite mistaking the meaning of the word he employed. "Oh, you think so?" asked Grashuis, drily. This conversation, as may well be supposed, was highly distasteful to van Nerekool. He hastened to put an end to it by saying: "Gentlemen, I vote we begin to think of our experiment." "Ah, you are right," exclaimed the doctor, "our experientia by all means; experientia optima rerum magistra you know. By-the-bye, did you receive the parcel I sent you?" "Oh, yes," answered Grenits, "you will find it safe on that little table yonder." Thereupon Murowski produced his instruments; a couple of thermometers, a hygrometer, an aneroid barometer, a stethoscope, and a small chemical balance. While he was arranging these, van Rheijn opened the other parcel, which contained a bedoedan and a small box of tjandoe. "I say," cried van Beneden, who was the first to open the little box, "precious nasty stuff this looks!" Murowski took the box from him, examined the contents, and then falling at once into a lecturing tone, he began: "Opium is an amorphous, sticky substance which, being of a gummy nature, is not fissile but plastic. It is of a dark brown colour, possesses a faint sweetish smell, and is somewhat oily to the touch. Its chief constituents are morphine and narcotine, in the absence of these the drug has no value." "But," interrupted van Beneden somewhat impatiently, "which of us is to submit to the experiment?" "The best plan to settle that question," said van Rheijn, "would be, I think, to draw lots." "Very good," put in Murowski, "providing you allow me to stand out, as I shall have to watch the experiment." "Now, I think," suggested Grenits, "you had better let me make the trial." "Why you, rather than anyone of us?" "Why, because, being a prisoner," replied Grenits, "I have plenty of time on my hands to get over the effects of the debauch." "You are quite right," said van Rheijn, "I never thought of that--I must be at my office as usual to-morrow morning." "And I," continued van Beneden, "I have to be in court, on Setrosmito's business, you know." "Of course, of course!" cried all in chorus, "not one of us must, on any account, miss that trial." "Very good," said Grenits, "we are all agreed then that I am to be the smoker." "It is very kind of you, Theodoor, to make the offer." "All right, I am quite ready to begin." "Very likely," interrupted Murowski, "but that is more than I am." "No, and I am not ready yet," said Edward van Rheijn. Thereupon, assuming the most severe professional gravity, the worthy Pole commenced carefully to weigh out the stock of opium, which he found came to 142 grains. This fact he noted down in his pocket-book. "You had better add," said van Rheijn, "that there are twenty-five matas." "Twenty-five what?" asked Murowski, again with a puzzled look. "Twenty-five matas," repeated van Rheijn. "Matas!" exclaimed the doctor. "What? eyes?" The general burst of merriment which followed the question served only to augment the doctor's surprise. "Eyes!" laughed van Rheijn, "no, no, nothing of the kind. The Government table of opium weights runs thus: 1 pikoe = 100 katties, 1 kattie = 16 taëls, 1 taël = 10 tji, and 1 tji = 10 matas, and therefore--" "All right, all right!" cried Murowski, as he joined in the laugh, "now I see it." "But, gentlemen," he continued, "we must look sharp, the sun has set." It was nearly a quarter past six and, in the month of August, the sun in Java sets some time before that hour. Murowski requested Grenits to have the lamps lighted, and when the servant had brought in the lights, the Pole continued: "Now then, Grenits, get your clothes off!" "What is that for?" asked Theodoor. "My dear fellow," replied the doctor, "I must have you in pyjamas; for I shall have narrowly to watch the action of the chest." Grenits retired to his bedroom, and in a few minutes returned clad in his ordinary night clothing. The doctor then made him lie down on the divan, he felt his pulse, examined his tongue, sounded him with the stethoscope, and carefully took his temperature. During these preliminaries the countenance of Murowski wore a look of stern solemnity which, no doubt, ought to have impressed the spectators with the feelings of respect and awe due to a high priest of science; but which, unfortunately, only served to excite their merriment. Even Grenits himself could hardly repress a smile. "What in the world is the good of all that hocus-pocus?" whispered August van Beneden to Grashuis. "Why are you lawyers," rejoined the other, "always fencing with scraps of Latin? It is the correct thing, I suppose. It is a trick of the trade." At length Grenits said: "Well, doctor, is my carcase in pretty good order?" "Perfect," replied Murowski, "perfectly normal; I must have a look at the barometer, and then our experiment may begin at once." The barometer recorded 745 m.m., and the doctor made a note of the reading. "There, now," he said to Grenits, "I am quite ready--no, no, wait a bit--there is something else. When did you last partake of food?" "At half-past twelve," replied Grenits, "the usual dinner." "Thank you," said the doctor, and looking at his watch he continued, "It is now half-past six--just six hours ago. Did you partake of anything in the way of spirits?" "No, nothing of the kind," answered Grenits, "nothing but a little pale ale." The doctor then placed his thermometers in position under the patient's arms. While all this was doing, van Rheijn was busily employed dividing the opium into twenty-five equal parts. Then he lit the lamps, and, warming the bits of opium at the flame of the little lamp to make them soft, he kneaded into each of them some very finely cut Javanese tobacco, and then rolled them into small round pills. His friends looked on with some surprise at the dexterity with which he performed these manipulations; for he had not told them that, previously, he had asked Lim Ho to show him how the thing ought to be done. This lesson the wily Chinaman had been only too willing to give him. "Who knows," thought he, with a grin, "perhaps the Europeans may take a fancy to the delicacy." When Edward had prepared his pills, he produced the bedoedan. It consisted of a tolerably thick bamboo stem some nine or ten inches in length, highly polished and of a beautiful light-brown tint. This stem was open at one end and sealed at the other. Very near to the closed end and at right angles to the stem, a small earthenware bowl was inserted into the wood. "It is a spick-span brand new one, I can assure you," said van Rheijn to Theodoor, "I bought it myself for this very occasion." "Thank heaven for that!" cried Grenits. "Just fancy if one of those old sots had been sucking and slobbering at it! Bah! it makes me sick to think of it." "That shows how innocent you are," rejoined van Rheijn, "your real lover of opium, your 'feinschmecker,' prizes an old pipe very highly. When the stem is thoroughly saturated and the bowl thickly encrusted with juice, the smoke must be indeed delicious." Thus saying, Edward put one of the little pills into the bowl and handed the pipe, thus loaded, to his friend, while he drew the little table with the lamp within easy reach of the smoker. Grenits lay stretched out at full length on the divan, the front of his kabaai was wide open, so that the action of the chest was plainly visible, and his head rested on a somewhat hard pillow. "Now," remarked Grashuis, "there is only one thing lacking, and that is the greasy filthy pillow we saw in the den at Kaligaweh." "Much obliged to you, Leendert," laughed Grenits. "I would not for the world touch the beastly thing--this pillow will do perfectly well." Thus speaking, he turned his face to the lamp, applied his mouth to the stem of his bedoedan, and, trying to imitate as closely as he could the proceedings he had witnessed at Kaligaweh, he was about to apply the bowl to the flame. "Hold hard!" cried Murowski, "don't be in a hurry, one moment." With these words he took Theodoor's pulse and held it for fully a minute looking the while carefully at his watch. Then he once again applied the stethoscope, examined the thermometers, replaced them, and finally, in his notebook he wrote: Pulse 72, respiration 24, temperature 99 1/2. "That's it," said he, "now then puff away to your heart's content." With one steady long pull Grenits sucked the flame of the lamp into the bowl. As the opium-ball kindled, a faint sweetish odour began to pervade the apartment, a smell somewhat suggestive of warm blood and treacle. "Swallow it, swallow it!" cried van Rheijn. This, however, was more easily said than done. Grenits made an effort to swallow the nasty smoke; but then a violent fit of coughing compelled him to open his mouth and blow out the fumes into the room, augmenting thereby the nauseous smell which already pervaded the apartment. "Poeah! poeah!" cried Grenits, puffing and coughing. "What do you feel? What do you taste?" asked Murowski. "I am half choked with coughing," stammered Grenits, "and I have a nasty sweetish taste in my mouth. I cannot describe it." This first draw had been a deep one; the madat-ball was entirely consumed; van Rheijn slipped another opium-ball into the pipe. "Now, this time," said he, "you must try to swallow the smoke; you have done so often enough when you have blown the smoke of a cigar from your nose." Poor Grenits made another attempt. This time he did actually inhale the fumes and succeeded in retaining them for some seconds, after which he allowed them slowly to curl out at his nostrils. Dr. Murowski made a note in his pocket-book, pulse 70, respiration 25, temperature normal. Being asked again what he felt, Grenits answered: "I feel nothing; but the sweet taste has gone and now it tastes rather bitter." After the third pipe, Theodoor complained that his head felt heavy and said he wanted to go to sleep. This drowsiness seemed to increase with the fourth and fifth pipes; but, as yet, Grenits was well able to resist it. He returned sensible answers to the questions put to him by his friends; but remarked that his faculties seemed to be clouded and that he had to reflect for some considerable time before he could grasp the meaning of a question, and that he could not readily frame an answer. He was able, however, to sit upright, and could even walk up and down the room without support. Dr. Murowski watched him carefully and after the sixth pipe he found, that the drowsy feeling was still increasing, that the pulse was at 70 while the respiration had risen to 28. The eighth pipe produced further drowsiness, but yet Theodoor was able to tell the time by the clock. With the ninth pipe, his speech became thick and his utterance indistinct; and when the doctor pressed him very hard, he said that his tongue seemed as if it were increasing in volume. After the tenth pipe, the patient began to complain of a bitter taste in his mouth, and said he felt giddy. The doctor at once grasped his hand; but pulse and respiration both remained unaltered. After the eleventh, Grenits could no longer raise himself unaided from the divan, and, when he tried to walk had to be supported, so tottering and uncertain were his steps. After the twelfth pipe, which he smoked very slowly, a remarkable change came over the patient. Theodoor was now lying with his eyes closed; but every now and then he opened them and there was now a brightness in his look which offered a strange contrast to his former dull and heavy expression. His sensations, he declared, were highly pleasurable; but he could give no description of his feelings. "Charles, Charles," he faintly cried, "give us a little music," and he turned slightly to van Nerekool. The latter at once sat down at the piano and began very softly to play Chopin's variations on airs from Don Giovanni. The ecstatic expression on the smoker's face showed that he took in every chord and every note. "Go on playing," he murmured, as soon as Charles left off, "more music--more smoke--give me the pipe." This ecstatic state went on increasing with the thirteenth pipe and with it also the craving for opium grew more intense. Theodoor now began to laugh; he stretched out and waved his arms--the most pleasant pictures were evidently floating through his brain. When Murowski asked him what made him laugh he replied, with a fresh burst of unnatural merriment: "I don't know, I don't know!" Presently he requested van Nerekool to play him a certain passage from Schumann's Manfred. In this state of ecstasy the patient remained while he smoked his fourteenth and fifteenth pipes. The fixed smile did not leave his features; but now he ceased to reply to the questions of his friends. He also grew restless by degrees and no longer lay still as before. After the sixteenth pipe Grenits complained of having to leave off smoking while the pipe was being refilled. He grew fretful and found fault with van Rheijn for not having supplied another bedoedan, for then, he said, the experiment might have gone on without interruption. Dr. Murowski observed that the pulse was at 72 and the respiration at 28; that the conjunctiva was much bloodshot and the eyelids heavy and drooping. After the seventeenth pipe the smoker suddenly started up and attempted to walk; but, after a few steps, fell down and was unable to rise. His friends carried him back to the divan. He begged hard to be allowed to go on smoking and, as the doctor declared there was no danger whatever, the request was complied with. The eighteenth pipe brought back the state of ecstasy which, for awhile, seemed to have left the patient. Every now and then he opened his eyes wide and seemed to follow some flying image. With the twentieth pipe these symptoms merely increased, and when Murowski asked him how he felt he replied: "Oh! I feel so happy; I never felt anything like it before." The doctor made the following note: Sclerotica much inflamed, pulse 70, respiration 25, temperature 100·04, satyriasis setting in. Upon being asked if he wanted anything, he replied: "I don't want anything--nothing at all--leave me alone. The pipe! give me the pipe! that Edward, that Edward! does he want the thing to fail altogether?" The next instant he exclaimed: "Oh! if this be Mohammed's paradise, let me go on smoking for ever! The pipe! the pipe!" "Is it not high time," asked van Nerekool anxiously, "to put a stop to this? The poor fellow will, I fear, do himself some serious mischief." "No, no, no," cried the Pole. "Don't be alarmed, I answer for him, there is not the slightest danger. His pulse is perfectly regular, the breathing has quickened somewhat; but there is only a rise of ·3 in the temperature. It would be a pity not to go on now, this experiment is most important to science." After the twenty-first pipe, Grenits seemed to lose all control over himself. He lay still, almost motionless; but every word he uttered, every look and every gesture betrayed what was passing within. This continued until the twenty-fourth pipe had been smoked. Murowski then again asked him how he felt, and he answered pretty quietly: "Oh! I am at peace, at rest. Delightful! delightful!" But this was far from satisfying our Pole. With his right forefinger on the patient's pulse and his left hand spread out on his breast, he kept on asking him again and again, "What kind of feeling is it?" Theodoor, however, did not reply. By this time he was heaving and panting with excitement. His arms and hands were stretched out clutching convulsively at some phantom of his brain. His face wore a look of unutterable bliss which filled the bystanders at once with amazement and horror. "Doctor, doctor!" muttered van Nerekool, "let us put an end to this. Look at him, look at him. It is disgusting!" But the Pole would not give in. "There is no danger, none whatever!" he cried; "we must go on now, we must go on!" With the tough tenacity of the man of science bent upon fathoming some natural phenomenon, he eagerly watched Theodoor's slightest movement. He was desperately anxious to make the patient speak out. "Grenits!" he cried, "Grenits, do you hear me; tell me, do you hear me?" Then he forced up the eyelids, and with his finger sharply filliped his nose as he kept on crying, trembling with impatience: "Do you hear me, Grenits, do you hear?" Grenits muttered a few incoherent words as he restlessly tossed about on the divan. "Do you hear me?" persisted the doctor. "Tell me, can you understand?" "Oh, yes, yes," at length muttered Grenits, "do leave me alone!" In his eagerness the doctor bent over his patient, he did not for an instant take his eyes from his face. Just then the friend was transformed wholly into the man of science who, entirely mastered by the passionate desire of unravelling some secret of nature, might become capable of practising vivisection even upon his fellow-man. "Oh do tell me," passionately implored the doctor, "do tell me what you feel!" "What I feel?" muttered Theodoor vaguely. "Oh it is delightful, delightful--more delicious than--" "This is too bad!" shouted van Nerekool, "abominable! I can't stand this any longer!" and, snatching the pipe out of Grenits' hand, he stamped on it with his foot. Then he seized the box in which there remained but a single pill of opium and violently flung it and its contents out of the window. "That's right, quite right!" cried Grashuis and van Beneden in a breath. "It is a pity, a thousand pities," complained Murowski. But even he had very soon to change his tone, as the condition of Grenits now began seriously to alarm even the medical man. The smoker's pulse had fallen to 62, and his respiration to 24, while the temperature had risen to 101·40. Grenits moreover was now growing very restless, and was pouring forth a torrent of libidinous and incoherent ejaculations. His eyes were bloodshot, his face much swollen, his skin was hot and dry, while the hands were damp with clammy sweat. Incessantly he kept on clamouring for opium. "The pipe, give me the pipe! van Rheijn, the pipe!" he almost yelled, and this amidst a string of loose and frantic exclamations. Murowski, now beginning to fear that the experiment might have been carried too far, endeavoured to make him drink some of the strong coffee which had been kept ready for the purpose, by pouring it down his throat with a spoon. He bathed his head with iced water, and every now and then, made him sniff strong smelling salts. Thus, with considerable difficulty, the doctor at length succeeded in somewhat quieting his patient. The coffee, especially, seemed to have a soothing effect. At first Grenits violently resisted all attempts to make him swallow it; but presently, of his own accord he began to ask for it, and the beverage had the most sobering effect. Gradually the excitement began to abate, the patient's voice became more natural and subdued, and his utterances less wild. At length Grenits fell into a deep sleep. Murowski took out his pocket-book and wrote: Pulse 70, respiration 24, temperature 100. "Normal," said he with a sigh of relief, "quite normal! However, I shall not leave him to-night." The gaoler was very easily persuaded to allow the doctor to remain with his patient for that night, and Grenits slept for thirty-three hours. When he at length awoke he found that, with the exception of a feeling of exhaustion and a pretty severe headache, he was none the worse of his opium-debauch. Even these unpleasant sensations, however, left him as soon as he had taken a bath, and then he became ravenously hungry so that his attendant had some difficulty in serving him quickly and plentifully enough. Three days after these events Murowski was on his way to his new station. It was his intention to expand his notes into a full account of what he had witnessed, and to send his paper on the effects of opium smoking to one of the scientific publications in Germany. The experiment in the prison at Santjoemeh had one good effect, at least, upon those who were assembled to witness it: it served namely, to confirm the opinions they already held with regard to the use of opium. It would not be true to say that van Rheijn had ever stood up as a defender of the use of the drug; yet he had always striven to find some argument in palliation of the Government system; but now even he was completely converted. With poor Theodoor Grenits the events of that evening were, for a long time, a very sore point; and he never could bear the slightest allusion made to his antics while under the spell of the poppy-juice. "May I be hanged!" he cried, "if ever again I touch a bedoedan, however seductive and pleasant may be the images it calls up." And then, turning to his friends, he said, "Gentlemen, I beg you will do me the great favour of never, in the slightest manner, alluding to the past; and," continued he enthusiastically, "let us now join hands and solemnly declare war--war to the knife against the opium trade." CHAPTER XXXIII. IN THE PANDOPPO OF THE REGENT. The day which followed the opium experiment described in the last chapter, promised to be an interesting one to the inhabitants of Santjoemeh. On that day, Setrosmito, the father of baboe Dalima, who had for months been lying in gaol on a charge of having murdered a Chinese bandoelan in the execution of his duty, and who had been accused also of opium-smuggling, was to be brought to trial. The evidence had already been taken, and the witnesses on both sides had been examined. The prisoner confessed that he had, with his kris, taken the Chinaman's life; but he stoutly denied that he had been guilty of smuggling. All Santjoemeh had turned out, that is to say, the whole European population; for it was known that August van Beneden would conduct the defence. As our readers know, the young lawyer had already appeared as counsel for baboe Dalima; but at her trial he had merely watched the proceedings in behalf of his client, and had no opportunity of showing his powers as an advocate. Thus the speech he was expected to deliver in defence of Setrosmito, might be looked upon as virtually his maiden-speech. In social circles, however, and on several minor occasions, August van Beneden had given evidence of much ability and considerable readiness of speech, and thus the good people of Santjoemeh were looking forward to the coming trial as to a rare intellectual treat. But that was by no means all. It was further rumoured that the unfortunate bandoelan had lost his life in consequence of his misconduct towards the little daughter of the prisoner. Now, the public at Santjoemeh knew pretty well what excesses the bandoelans used frequently to permit themselves to take in these domiciliary visits for opium; and thus expected that some spicy details would be forthcoming at the trial. It was, moreover, confidently expected that in his devotion to Themis, the young lawyer would lay his finger heavily upon the crying abuses of the infamous opium traffic, that plague-spot of Javanese society and that disgrace to the European conquerors of the island. No wonder, therefore, that long before the time appointed for the trial, the pandoppo of the Regent's house in which the court was to sit, was crowded to its utmost capacity. Even ladies appeared in the audience, and foremost among these was fair Laurentia van Gulpendam. As a rule, no ladies ever appear at these native trials; but, on this occasion, the full-flavoured particulars which were sure to be revealed, might perhaps account for their presence. At all events, the numerous staff of servants looked on in amazement at this unusual concourse; for generally the public is, on such occasions, conspicuous only by its absence. These attendants found it as much as they could do to provide seats for all the company, and though there always is an abundant supply of chairs in every Regent's house, yet on this occasion, a sufficient number of seats could hardly be mustered. Had it been evening, and had the numerous lamps which swung from the roof of the pandoppo been alight, one might have imagined oneself at some festive gathering, or rather, one might have thought, that an exhibition of juggling or other such-like entertainment was about to take place; for, at one extremity of the spacious hall, there was a raised platform three steps above the level of the floor. On this stage was seen a long table covered with a green baize cloth on which were displayed a thick book and a number of 'pièces de conviction;' and at which several chairs were placed in order. A police oppasser, who, judging from his demeanour, was fully aware of the importance of his office, was mounting guard at the table, evidently posted there to keep the profane vulgar at a respectful distance. Had any unruly spirit attempted to approach, he would no doubt, with a noble flourish, have dragged the rusty bit of iron which he wore by his side from its scabbard. Pending the entrance of the judges, the crowd tried to pass the time as agreeably as it could. Greetings were exchanged, jokes circulated freely, the people laughed and chatted, and, in fact, behaved, in that temple of Justice, precisely as they might have done at a music-hall during the interval. "Good morning, Mrs. van Gulpendam, do you intend to be present at our session?" The speaker was Mr. Thomasz, deputy clerk of the court. He had strolled in en amateur to have a look at the proceedings; for the chief clerk himself was on that day to officiate, and Thomasz meant to make the best of the opportunity thus offered him of paying his court to fair Laurentia. "Good morning," replied the Resident's wife as she held out her hand. "Yes, I have come to have a look. I never have been present at one of these trials, and am rather curious to see what they are like. This case will be an interesting one, I think?" "I think it will, madam," replied Thomasz; "but for my part, I consider the examination of the witnesses much more entertaining." "I daresay," said Laurentia; "but--that horrid murderer--they are sure to find him guilty, are they not?" "I am not so sure of that, madam." "You are not? Why not?" "No, indeed, I am not. The head djaksa has indeed got up a splendid case for the prosecution, there is not a loop-hole in it; but ever since our Residents and Assistant-Residents have ceased to preside, and the duty has devolved upon professional lawyers, we seem to be be under the influence of a kind of morbid philanthropy--and, it would not at all surprise me if the scoundrel got clean off, especially--" "Ah yes," exclaimed Laurentia, "I know what you would say: especially since a European has undertaken the defence of that Javanese scoundrel. It is perfectly unheard-of--monstrous! But, tell me, who pays that counsel, do you know, Mr. Thomasz?" "Hush! madam, that's a secret." "A secret!" cried Laurentia, "you must keep no secrets from the wife of your Resident. You seem to know all about it. Come tell me what you know." "Let us go on the platform then," said Thomasz with a faint smile, "no one will be able to overhear us up there." They walked up the steps, went to the table, and made a pretence of examining the objects displayed upon it. The policeman on guard, of course, took good care not to interfere with the njonja Resident and the assistant registrar of the court. "Now then," said Laurentia in an undertone, "you may speak out. Who pays that lawyer?" "A company, madam," was the reply. "A company! What? of Chinamen?" cried Laurentia impatiently. "I did not say so, madam," replied the deputy clerk with a smile and a slight bow. "What company then?" "Of Europeans, madam." "Oh ho! you know them. You need not deny it; I see it in your face." "Hush, madam," whispered Thomasz, "there are a couple of ladies coming near," and then aloud he added: "Yes this is the very kris with which the deed was done--you see the wavy blade is stained with blood--that black spot--" Mrs. van Gulpendam seized the weapon. "Give me their names," she whispered as she stooped forward over the table to take it up. "I know but one of them--van Nerekool." "Van Nerekool--still that van Nerekool," hissed the fair woman between her clenched teeth. And then, turning to the pandoppo, she said to one of the ladies who had by this time mounted the platform: "Look here, Henriette, just look here--this is the kris with which the murder was committed." The policeman in charge of the table seemed inclined to step forward to forbid the others to approach; but a haughty look from Laurentia restrained him. "Is that really the kris?" asked Henriette. "Yes," exclaimed Laurentia, "look, you! that's how it was done--slash across the throat!" She accompanied these words with a sweep of the formidable weapon which made both the ladies start back in terror. "A magnificent woman that Laurentia!" said a young man in the body of the hall. "Just look at her attitude, look at her features, look at that hand as she grasps the dagger! What a lady Macbeth! what a perfect instep!" "Aye, aye," quoth another, "she is posing, she knows--she feels--that we are admiring her." "What are you frightened at?" continued Mrs. van Gulpendam, "see here, that spot is the blood of the victim, is it not, Mr. Thomasz?" "Disgusting!" cried both ladies in a breath. "How can you touch it, my dear madam?" "Touch it? why not?" scornfully replied Laurentia as she flung back the kris rattling upon the table. "Why not touch it? the thing doesn't bite." "Of course not, my dear," said Henriette; "but the mere thought that it has murdered a man!" "Pooh! a Chinaman!" cried Laurentia. "But a Chinaman is a human being," objected her friend. "I suppose so," was Laurentia's disdainful reply. "It is well that Lim Yang Bing or Lim Ho are not by to hear you," said Thomasz forcing a laugh. "Oh that is a different matter altogether," said the arrogant woman. "They are opium-farmers," cried Henriette. "They are millionaires!" added her friend. The two ladies uttered these exclamations almost simultaneously, with an indescribable tone of sarcasm peculiar to their sex. Laurentia fully understood the taunt and felt it too; but she gave no sign of displeasure. "Ah yes," continued Henriette following up her pleasant little home-thrust. "Now you mention their names, what has become of the two Chinamen. I don't see them. Yonder is the Chinese captain and Kam Tjeng Bie the wealthy merchant; but I can't see the two opium-farmers." "They will take good care," added the other lady, "not to show their noses here." "I daresay," carelessly remarked Laurentia, "that they find plenty to do getting ready for the wedding." "Is not the murderer," asked Henriette, "the father of baboe Dalima who accused Lim Ho of--?" "My dear Henriette," hastily interposed Mrs. van Gulpendam, "that is the merest tattle--in our gossiping Santjoemeh you ought not to believe one tenth part of what you hear." "But," continued she rather hurriedly as if anxious to change the subject, "but, Mr. Thomasz, what kind of gollokh is that yonder on the table--that looks as if it were blood-stained too--did the murderer use that thing also?" "Oh no, madam," replied the assistant-clerk, "that is nothing but chicken's blood." "Chicken's blood?" inquired Henriette with a laugh. "Yes, dear madam, we call that the gollokh soempah." "Indeed, and what may that mean?" "We might translate it by the 'oath-knife,'" replied Thomasz; "it is, in fact, with that instrument that the Chinese take an oath." "That's interesting! did you ever see it done, Mr. Thomasz?" "Oh yes, madam, very frequently." "Do tell us all about it," cried Henriette, "how is it done?" "It is as simple a ceremony as possible, ladies. The witness who is about to be sworn, accompanied by a Chinese interpreter, and one of the members of the court, walks up to a block of wood. Then the gollokh is placed into his hand and with it he chops off the head of a black chicken. Nothing more, and nothing less. It is an utterly meaningless performance, and, at first sight, it is simply ludicrous." "But why must the chicken be black, Mr. Thomasz?" asked Henriette. "That is more than I can tell you, madam," replied he. "You are aware, I suppose, that white is the mourning colour in China." "Oh, yes, I know that; but--a black chicken? There must be some hidden meaning in that," mused Henriette. "There may be, madam," replied Thomasz; "but I have never been able to discover any, though I have frequently asked interpreters and even Chinese chiefs about it. There exists, however," he continued, "in China another manner of taking an oath, the significance of which is, perhaps, more obvious. But it is used only on special and very important occasions." "Can there be any question of greater moment," asked Henriette, somewhat sharply, "than that of speaking the truth before a judge?" "Certainly there may be, madam," was the reply. "More important do you mean to tell me, than of giving solemn testimony upon which may depend perhaps the life or death of a human being?" "Undoubtedly, madam," said Thomasz. "Well!" cried Henriette, "I should like to know what questions those may be!" "To give you only one instance," replied Thomasz, "the great oath, the solemn oath which the Government requires to be taken when a man is made a Chinese officer." "Indeed!" exclaimed Henriette with a laugh, "do you call that so very serious a matter?" "And then," continued the assistant clerk, "on certain occasions, though rarely, the great oath is administered in civil cases, where the interests involved are very considerable." "Ah, now I understand you! When it is a question of £ s. d.," laughed Henriette; "but, pray, tell us something about that great oath." "With pleasure, madam, only I am afraid I do not know very much about it. The rites observed on such occasions are borrowed from the ceremony with which the oath is administered in China to princes and high state officials on their appointment. I will, in as few words as possible, try to describe to you what takes place. The witness first writes down the evidence he intends to give or the promise he intends to make, on a strip of red paper, and then he confirms the truth of his words by calling down upon himself the most fearful curses should his evidence prove untrue, or should he fail to carry out his engagement. This strip of red paper the witness next carries to the temple, and solemnly spreads it out upon the table of offerings, between a number of burning candles, some bottles of wine and some confectionery, which are destined to be gifts or offerings to the idol. While this is going on the priests are screeching forth a form of prayer, at certain passages of which a bell is violently rung. Thereupon the witness, in a loud voice, reads out what he has written on the paper, the priests the while burning incense. Finally, the red paper is held to the flame of one of the candles, and, having been thrown down on the table, is allowed to burn until it is reduced to ashes. This concludes the ceremony. I know, ladies, my description is most imperfect; but I hope that I have succeeded in giving you some notion of this very curious solemnity." "Much obliged to you, Mr. Thomasz," said Laurentia, holding out her hand to him as, with haughty glance, she surveyed the company assembled in the pandoppo. "I wonder whom she is looking for?" whispered one of the young men in the body of the hall. "Not for me I fear," sighed another, "perhaps--" "The gentlemen of the court!" bawled a police oppasser, much in the tone of a French huissier when he shouts, "La cour, messieurs!" The name of the individual who was supposed to be the object of Laurentia's solicitude remained unspoken. Just then, out of one of the side buildings which could be seen from the pandoppo through the intervals between the blinds, there appeared two European gentlemen, two Javanese chiefs and two Chinese officers. These formed a kind of procession and slowly marched towards the pandoppo. Having entered the hall they ascended the platform, and took their seats at the table, on the chairs placed ready for them. At the head of the procession walked Mr. Greveland, the successor of Mr. Zuidhoorn and president of the court. After him, came Radhen Mas Toemenggoeng Pringgoe Kesoemo, regent of Santjoemeh; Radhen Pandjie Merto Winoto the patih, and babah Tang Ing Gwam the Chinese major--these three were members of the native Council. Then followed Mas Wirio Kesoemo the head djaksa, and behind him came the clerk of the court, while Hadjie Moehammad Kassan, the panghoeloe or native priest, closed the procession. The president was in his judicial robes of office, while the clerk of the court appeared in black frock-coat and white trousers. The Javanese members wore, of course, the national costume, which consisted of a short jacket with stiff gold-embroidered collar over a similarly embroidered vest, with the finely stitched sarong wrapped in neat and narrow plaits round the waist. On their heads they wore the ordinary scarf; but in addition to this they also wore the kopja, an ugly and shapeless head-gear, looking like a bit of stove-pipe ornamented with narrow gold lace. The Chinese major was in full Mandarin's dress, the most conspicuous part of his attire being a kind of tabard of light blue cloth, on which, in front and behind, were richly embroidered in gold a pair of monstrous dragons. His head was covered with a stiff cap of light blue cloth. This cap had a somewhat high crown, on the top of which, surmounting a little tuft or tassel, shone a large blue gem of extraordinary lustre. The panghoeloe was clad in a sombre-looking cassock reaching down to his heels. He was remarkable chiefly by a turban of prodigious size, which, by its magnitude and colour, proclaimed that the man had visited the tomb of the prophet and was therefore a Hadjie or pilgrim. In his hand he held a book which looked much worn and soiled. This was the sacred book--the Koran. On the steps leading to the platform were seated several Javanese youths dressed in the national costume but without the kopja. These were the mantries, generally young men of good family, and even of noble birth, who were present to listen to the proceedings, and thus to qualify themselves for future appointments. They sat on the steps with their legs crossed before them, and each had on his knees a writing tablet, on which he was prepared to jot down whatever remarks he might consider valuable enough to be thus rescued from oblivion. Mr. Greveland took the chair at the middle of the oblong table. On his right hand sat the regent and on his left the clerk of the court. Next to the regent sat the djaksa and on his right again sat the panghoeloe. The clerk of the court had on his left the patih, and after him came the Chinese major. All these places were allotted to their several occupants, in accordance with the rules of the strictest etiquette, to which Eastern nations always attach the utmost importance. Just after the president had taken his seat, August van Beneden made his appearance in his barrister's gown; and, by the chairman's direction, sat down at the end of the table by the side of the Chinese major. At that moment the pandoppo of the regent's house offered an interesting and most curious spectacle. It was a wide roomy shed the lofty roof of which was supported by eight pillars, and completely open on all sides. In order to temper the glare of the sunlight, and also to exclude the prying looks of the public outside, the spaces between the pillars were hung with green kreés or mats, while the members of the court had the further protection of a canvas screen stretched behind them. Behind the judges some Javanese servants were squatting. These men bore the pajoengs of the Javanese chiefs, and though these umbrellas were closed, yet their bearers held them aloft in such a manner that they could plainly be seen behind the backs of their masters. As the native court was then sitting; and taken as typical of the entire judicial system as regards the native inhabitants of the island of Java, it presented a strange combination of those three leading principles which the Dutch Government has, sometimes in greater sometimes in lesser degree, but always very cleverly, managed to unite. First there was the European law represented by the person of the President; in the next place the native usage was respected which demands that both the judges shall be Javanese chiefs or nobles of the highest rank; and in the third place there was the Mohammedan law represented by the panghoeloe whose office it was to enforce due respect for the injunctions of the Koran. Between the platform and the first row of chairs there was a considerable open space which, however, was not protected by any kind of railing. To the right and left of the platform stood a pair of native police oppassers in their bright yellow uniform and with side-arms dangling from bright yellow belts. The poor fellows cut a sorry figure as they stood there, they were quite taken aback at the sight of so large a crowd. Fair Laurentia had taken her seat on the middle chair of the first row. As njonja Resident this place of honour belonged to her, and by her side she had placed two of her most intimate friends. Close around these clustered the most fashionable and important inhabitants of Santjoemeh, or such as considered themselves the most important; and behind these again came the miscellaneous crowd which filled the pandoppo from end to end. The conversation, however, now that the judges had entered, was carried on in whispers or in a low undertone. Edward van Rheijn, Charles van Nerekool and Leendert Grashuis, we hardly need say, were present in the third or fourth row of chairs among a number of their young friends and acquaintances--the jeunesse dorée of Santjoemeh. Thus they had an excellent view of the proceedings. "Look at that Thomasz," said van Rheijn, "what an ass the fellow is making of himself with Laurentia!" "Yes, yes," quoth Grashuis, "he is making hay while the sun shines." "I don't know so much about that," remarked one of the young men present, "it seems to me that just now he is pretty well at home at the Residence." "There are very queer rumours afloat about him," whispered another. "Rumours!" said van Rheijn testily, "why, in Santjoemeh, the air is always full of rumours. What would Santjoemeh be without its chronique scandaleuse?" "If people will behave themselves in that way!" "Yes, and if appearances are all against them!" "Indeed," said van Rheijn tartly, "am I to suppose that, where a woman's good name is concerned, you would go by appearances?" "They say that M`Bok Kârijâh has been employed." "Oh! if that filthy hag has a finger in the pie, then--" "They say!" exclaimed van Rheijn contemptuously, "they say!--and pray who are they?" "Well--everybody--" "At all events I am not one of them," replied van Rheijn. "No more am I," added Grashuis. "Hush," whispered van Rheijn, "I am sure Laurentia can hear all we say; just look how she pricks her ears." "How very dignified van Beneden looks in his gown," said Grashuis anxious to change the subject and slightly raising his voice. "I don't see it," returned van Rheijn; "he looks for all the world like an umbrella in its case." At that moment fair Laurentia turned and cast her eye over the group of young gentlemen seated behind her. They all greeted and bowed. Van Rheijn, however, had a gracious smile all to himself--it might have been perhaps in acknowledgment of his comparison of van Beneden with the umbrella. "Oh, you sly fox," whispered one with a nudge, "that is why you took me up so sharply just now? eh?" "Do shut up!" said van Rheijn, "I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself for talking such nonsense!" "Have you received an invitation yet?" asked Grashuis, wishing to turn the conversation into another channel. "What invitation?" "To Lim Ho's wedding party." "Yes, I got one the other day," said one. "And so have I," said another. "That is a curious custom," remarked van Nerekool, "for the bridegroom to give the wedding party." "Yes," added another, "it is so totally different from what one sees among Western people." "Different!" exclaimed van Rheijn, "of course it is--it is quite consistent with everything else in China. With them everything is upside down. Their mourning colour is white and blue is half-mourning. Their ladies wear trousers and the men carry fans. Such things as knives, spoons and forks they leave to us barbarians, while they manage very cleverly to whisk down their food with a pair of chop-sticks. They hold that descendants can ennoble their ancestors so that one may become a count or a baron after one's death. They pay their doctors so long as they keep well; but the moment they fall sick they stop payment. What can you expect from such people--? surely you may let them hold their wedding feast at the bridegroom's house instead of the bride's!" A general laugh greeted this whimsical sally which had by no means been uttered in an undertone. Mrs. van Gulpendam joined in the merriment and rewarded the speaker with another friendly nod. "You see! you lucky dog! you are decidedly in her good books." "Hush, gentlemen! here comes the murderer." "What? unfettered?" "Yes, the law demands that an accused man shall appear free and unfettered before his judges." "But it does not forbid a couple of constables to stick close to his elbow." "Hush!" Mr. Greveland had repeatedly struck the table with his wooden hammer. "Usher," he said at length with much dignity, "you must see that silence is kept in court." The man thus addressed was a sjenjo or half-caste--he rushed up and down the pandoppo in frantic endeavours to enforce the order he had received, "Hush, hush, silence! Silence, ladies and gentlemen!" he bawled at the top of his voice, thus making more noise than all the company put together. Again the hammer came down, and the president himself called: "Silence." "Silence!" shouted the usher imploringly, as he stretched out his arms and looked as if he were going to swim, or was trying to lay a tempest. At length he succeeded in controlling those unruly tongues. One of the very last to give way was Laurentia--"who had a right to interfere with her--the Resident's wife? Those gentlemen on the bench are always giving themselves such airs!" Presently, however, even her chatter ceased. Once again the president brought down his hammer. "The session is opened," said he; "constables bring the prisoner forward!" One of the oppassers hereupon drew Setrosmito to the foot of the steps and made him squat down in front of the table. The poor fellow looked a wretched object indeed. The months he had passed in prison had effectually done their work upon him. He was frightfully lean, and the warm brown colour of his skin had turned a dusky grey. His long lank hair, which here and there straggled from under his head-dress, had turned grey--nay white. As he advanced he looked timidly around him, he cast one imploring glance at van Beneden, who gave him a friendly nod and a smile of encouragement, and then, submissively, he squatted down in the spot to which the policeman pointed. When first Setrosmito came forward some one uttered a loud heart-rending shriek of Ah God!--this cry was followed by the usher's cry for silence. At the back of the pandoppo several Javanese women were huddled together. They were the friends of Setrosmito's wife, who had accompanied her into the court. She it was who had uttered the wail which made all the spectators turn their heads. She had not been able to restrain her feelings at the sight of the wretched object in which she could hardly recognise her husband. Van Nerekool at once hurried up to the poor creature, he got one of the regent's servants to give her a kind of stool, and then he tried to quiet her. "You must keep quiet, M`Bok Dalima," said he, "or else you won't be allowed to remain here." The poor sobbing woman buried her face in both her hands. On all sides were heard murmurs of "The murderer's wife! Poor woman!" "Silence!" roared the usher. CHAPTER XXXIV. SETROSMITO'S TRIAL. As soon as the commotion produced by that lamentable cry had subsided, Mr. Greveland began to question the prisoner. "What is your name?" he asked. The djaksa interpreted the question to the accused man in Javanese. The prisoner with his head bent forward and his eyes steadfastly fixed on the floor replied: "Setrosmito, kandjeng toean." "Where were you born?" "At Kaligaweh, kandjeng toean." "How old are you?" "I don't know, kandjeng toean." The djaksa turned to the clerk of the court and said, "Put him down about forty years of age." There was, in reality, but little need for all this interrogatory; for the particulars had been already noted down during the course of the preliminary examinations. The questions were, in fact, put merely pro forma. "Where do you live?" continued the president. "In the prison, kandjeng toean," innocently answered the prisoner. "Aye! but I mean before you went to prison?" "In the dessa Kaligaweh, kandjeng toean." "Setrosmito," continued the president, "do you know why you have been brought here before us?" "Yes, kandjeng toean." "Let us hear it then." "They tell me I have smuggled opium, and that I have killed a Chinaman," quietly replied the Javanese, without so much as raising his eyes from the floor. A murmur of indignation ran through the pandoppo at the apparent callousness of the reply. "Silence!" cried the president. "Silence in the court!" vociferated the usher. "Do you plead guilty to these charges?" asked Mr. Greveland. The djaksa interpreted the question; but the prisoner hesitated--he seemed not to know what he ought to say. He cast a furtive sidelong glance at August van Beneden, who reassured him by saying: "Speak up, Setrosmito, speak up, tell the simple truth." "No, kandjeng toean," said he, "I am not guilty of smuggling. I never touch the bedoedan. I have killed a Chinaman because he ill-treated my child." The Javanese spoke in a very low tone of voice--he was abashed before that large audience and before his chiefs. He spoke moreover in the Javanese tongue, which hardly any one present could understand, so that his answer produced no impression whatever. "Now, listen attentively, Setrosmito," said the president. "The charges against you, your own statements, and the evidence of the witnesses, will be read out to you." "Yes, kandjeng toean." Thereupon the clerk of the court rose, and in the sing-song monotonous tone of voice peculiar to his class, began to read all the depositions and the whole body of evidence which the preliminary examinations had produced. He read very fast, very indistinctly, and in so low a tone of voice that not a soul in the pandoppo, not even the president himself, who was seated close beside him, could understand what he said. The prisoner, of course, could not catch a single word; for the papers were all drawn up in Malay, a language of which the simple dessa-labourer knows little or nothing. From time to time this dreamy flow of words was interrupted by the djaksa, whose duty it was to translate to the prisoner the more important parts of the case. But even the interpretation was got through at such a pace that it was very doubtful whether the prisoner was any the wiser for the djaksa's translation. He sat squatting on the floor without changing his attitude, and kept his eyes rivetted on one spot; his hands, fumbling the while at the skirts of his jacket, betrayed his extreme agitation. At every explanation of the djaksa, whether he understood it or not, he mumbled the invariable Javanese answer: "Yes, kandjeng toean." This reading of the evidence was a most dreary and tedious business. Even the members of the council at the table kept up a whispered conversation, which the president had repeatedly to interrupt with an impatient gesture and a stern look of displeasure. The audience, however, did not confine themselves to mere whispers. No one spoke out aloud; but gradually there arose a humming and buzzing--an indescribable rumour, broken now and again by some lady's giggle--which sadly interfered with the majesty of the law. In vain did the usher exert the full power of his lungs. His shout of "silence" produced its effect for the moment; but it was only for the moment. The instant after the universal buzzing began again as if a huge swarm of bees had taken possession of the pandoppo. "What an insufferable bore that clerk is to be sure!" simpered Mrs. van Gulpendam. "He leaves the reading to his nose," remarked Mr. Thomasz. "Mind your chief does not hear you," said one of the ladies. "Pray don't tell him!" cried Thomasz, "he does not know he talks through his gable--if he did, he might try and improve." "Be quiet, Mr. Thomasz," said Laurentia, with a burst of laughter, "you really must not make us laugh so." "What? I, madam?" asked the clerk. "You? Of course. The Resident calls you a dry comical fellow." "How, madam, do you mean to say the Resident applies such terms to me?" "Yes, he does--don't you like them?" "Madam," replied the assistant-clerk, "professionally I cannot say that I do. Just fancy, ladies," he continued, turning to the others, "a comical clerk, who ever heard of such a thing?" He uttered these words with a serio-comic air, so irresistibly droll, that the ladies fairly shook with suppressed laughter. "Oh--do hold your tongue, Mr. Thomasz!" Laurentia at length managed to say, "you see how savagely Mr. Greveland is glaring at you." "What a time that mumbler takes to be sure!" said a voice almost aloud in the centre of the pandoppo. "If one might only light a cigar to while away the time," said another. "Or get a glass of bitters!" "I was asking an oppasser just now to fetch me a glass of beer--my throat is as dry as a lime-kiln," said another voice in an audible whisper. "Well--and did you get it?" "Don't I wish I may get it? 'Not allowed, sir,' was all I could get out of that canary-bird, who looked as black as a three days' west monsoon." "Shall we go to the club, it is close by?" asked another. "Yes, if I thought that muttering would last much longer." "Silence! silence!" shouted the usher, "respect for the court!" That respect for the court was all very well; but the good people of Santjoemeh had gathered together for the sake of amusement, and they were being bored almost to death. At length the clerk had got to the end of his dreary tale--at length the djaksa had, for the last time, said to the prisoner: "Do you understand, Setrosmito?" And at length, for the last time, the latter had replied in his monotonous drone the same words: "Yes, kandjeng toean." Then came the usual shuffling of feet and a general murmur of satisfaction which, however, the usher soon managed to subdue. As soon as silence had been restored, the head djaksa rose from his chair and, in his capacity of public prosecutor, he began to open the case for the Government. His speech was remarkably well put together, and worked out with much skill and care; but it could have an interest only for those who knew nothing of the other side of the case. It was, in fact, little more than a statement of what had occurred, strictly on the lines of the report of the bandoelan Singomengolo. The public prosecutor took the case of opium smuggling as conclusively proved. He dwelt at great length upon the cunning displayed in hiding the forbidden wares under the pandan-mat of the couch--the opium itself and the box which had contained it lay before him on the table as convincing proofs of the truth of what he advanced. Then, in very forcible words, he went on to dilate upon the craftiness of these opium smugglers; and tried to show how, in their endeavours to cheat the revenue, they gave evidence of much cleverness; but generally over-reached themselves and proved, by the tricks they employed, their utter want of honesty and moral sense. Mas Wirio Kesoemo waxed well-nigh eloquent when he pointed out how the passion for opium was, hand over hand, gaining ground in Java; and how this debasing passion was promoted and fostered chiefly by the abominable smuggling trade. He dwelt, in glowing terms, upon the absolute necessity of repressing, by every means the law would allow, that dirty underhand traffic which was the fruitful source of so much misery. "Picture to yourselves," he cried, "the amount of injury which this nefarious trade is inflicting upon the realm beyond the ocean, upon all India, and especially upon our own beloved island of Java. Think of the millions which are lost--the millions!--I might say the tens of millions, and then calculate the amount of good which these tens of millions might produce if they were allowed to flow quietly and without check into the national treasury!" At these words the djaksa, who up to that time had been addressing the members of the council, turned to the public, knowing well that this argumentum ad crumenam would tickle the public ear. And he was not mistaken. The audience consisted for the most part of Dutchmen, and the tinkle of these tens of millions had a metallic sound which was strangely fascinating to the hearers. A distinct murmur of approbation arose, many a head nodded in silent assent and many a voice muttered: "Hear, hear! If we could but be delivered from that abominable smuggling!" These evident tokens of sympathy did not escape the djaksa's watchful eye, and Mas Wirio Kesoemo did not let so favourable an opportunity pass without expressing the fervent hope that the judges would not fail, by their sentence in the present case, to crush the foul reptile which battened upon the national prosperity. He called upon them, therefore, to pass upon the prisoner, who not only sat there accused of the heinous crime of smuggling; but was charged also with the additional offence of murder, the heaviest sentence which the law would allow. By doing so, he added, they would earn for themselves the cordial thanks of the island of Java, and establish a claim upon the gratitude of the entire Dutch nation. For a moment it seemed as if the greater part of the company assembled in the pandoppo, would have given vent to their feelings of satisfaction by cheering and clapping of hands--one cry of "bravo!" was distinctly heard; but the usher repressed all such manifestations with his repeated shout of "Silence--silence in the court!" The head djaksa now proceeded with the second part of his case against Setrosmito, that, namely, of having murdered a Chinese bandoelan; a charge which was inseparably connected with the former one of opium smuggling. The entire assembly hung breathless on his lips, as he described how Setrosmito had resisted the searching of his house; how, when the fatal box had been discovered, he had hurled an opprobrious name at Singomengolo and called him a "dirty dog;" how he had, thereupon, seized his kris and how, when the chief bandoelan fled back in terror, he had flung himself upon an inoffensive and defenceless Chinaman, and had drawn the wavy blade of his knife across his throat, while a stream of blood deluged murderer and victim alike. This description, graphic almost to brutality in its details, made a powerful impression upon the audience. One of the ladies present screamed and fainted away, and had to be carried off insensible. This episode caused considerable commotion, and Setrosmito cast an anxious glance behind him to see what was going on. "Silence! silence!" bawled the usher. As soon as order had been, in some measure, restored, Mas Wirio Kesoemo proceeded to dwell on the increasing temerity of the opium smugglers, who scrupled not to take a human life rather than risk the loss of their smuggled wares. He insisted upon the necessity of inflicting the extreme penalty for the protection of the police in the execution of their arduous duties; and he ended his speech by demanding that the murderer be condemned to death by hanging, or, if the defence could establish any extenuating circumstances, that the sentence should be at least twenty years of penal servitude with hard labour. A deep silence reigned in the pandoppo as the djaksa resumed his seat, one might have heard a pin drop, so intensely was that frivolous crowd impressed by this fearful demand for a human life. A kind of spell lay upon all, every heart seemed compressed as in a vice. A general sigh of relief was heard when the president broke the silence: "Setrosmito," asked Mr. Greveland, "have you heard what the public prosecutor has said?" The prisoner looked up with a puzzled expression at the speaker; but he did not answer a word. The entire case had been conducted in Malay, of which he did not understand a single word. The expression of the poor fellow's face showed that plainly enough. The president repeated his question, which the djaksa, thereupon, interpreted to Setrosmito. The prisoner cast one look upon August van Beneden, and upon a nod from the latter, answered: "Yes, kandjeng toean." "Have you anything to say in reply?" asked the president. Another look at his counsel, and then the prisoner answered: "No, kandjeng toean." A cry of indignation and horror arose in the pandoppo at the seeming callousness of the answer. "Silence, gentlemen! Silence in the court!" shouted the usher. As soon as he could make himself heard, Mr. Greveland said: "I call upon the counsel for the defence." "At length!" muttered Grashuis, with a deep sigh. "Now we shall hear something very fine!" cried Mrs. van Gulpendam, with a sneer; but in a voice quite loud enough to reach the young lawyer's ears. Van Beneden very calmly rose from his chair, wiped his forehead, and then, in a clear voice which could distinctly be heard through the entire pandoppo, he said: "The trial which is now occupying the attention of this honourable court is one which is indigenous to the soil of Java. I might say, indeed, that in no other spot in the world could such a case arise. There can be nothing simpler, nothing more plain than the demand of the prosecution! Opium has been smuggled, some one must be punished for it. A man has lost his life, some one must hang for the murder. Undoubtedly the law must have its course, and the criminal ought to be punished. We are living here in the East, in the home of the law of retaliation--an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth! This, gentlemen, is a hard law unworthy of our Western civilisation; but against it we have the right of inquiry, and our milder code allows every accused man the right of defence. It is of this right of defence, that, in behalf of the unhappy man sitting there at your feet and awaiting his fate at your hands, I now intend to avail myself. "Now, if the facts were really such as the prosecution has represented them to be--why then there would be nothing for me to do than to commend the prisoner to the clemency of the court, or rather I should say, that I would not, in that case, have undertaken at all the defence of a cause which my conscience could not justify. I take, therefore, a totally different view of the matter; and am prepared to lay before you the grounds upon which I have arrived at a wholly different conclusion. I beg that you will lend me your attentive hearing. "But, before entering into the details of this case," continued the young lawyer, in a voice which clearly betrayed emotion, "allow me to pay my tribute to the zeal, the devotion, and the undoubted ability of a man concerning whom I must not speak without reticence, inasmuch as I am bound to him in the straitest bond of friendship. "Mr. William Verstork was controller of the district of Banjoe Pahit when the facts occurred which now claim our attention. Independently altogether of the action of the Government, he undertook the task of continuing the investigations which he had initiated. The result of his inquiry he has submitted to the proper authorities. I ask, why were not these papers laid before us? Allow me, gentlemen, to pass very lightly over this most important omission. I could not enter into that subject without stirring up a pool of iniquity which is immediately connected with the opium question; and I freely confess that I shrink from thus occupying your valuable time. For the defence of the unhappy man for whose interests I am responsible, it will suffice if I now tell you that the documents to which I allude exist beyond the possibility of doubt or denial; and that I have here, lying on the table before me, the authentic copies properly attested and legalised by the Governor of Atjeh and by the Chief Justice at Batavia. "You all," continued van Beneden with a courteous gesture, addressing the public as well as the bench, "you all know William Verstork, and I would not even mention the noble qualities of that zealous public servant--there would be no need of doing so--were it not that our president, Mr. Greveland, has but lately arrived at Santjoemeh. The interests of my client demand that I should clearly point out to him that the writer of these documents is universally known as an upright man, who, in his official capacity, has won for himself the esteem and affection of all, natives as well as Europeans, that have come into contact with him. That he is a most dutiful son who, for the sake of his mother and his younger sisters and brothers, has made the greatest sacrifices; and that, before this large audience I assert, without the slightest fear of contradiction, that a more single-minded and honourable man has never trodden the soil of Netherland's India." A burst of applause, cheering and clapping of hands followed immediately upon this general appeal. Mrs. van Gulpendam sat gnawing her lips with suppressed rage, while the noise drove the usher to the verge of frenzy. At length, by dint of much hammering, Mr. Greveland obtained silence, he rose and said: "Much as I appreciate this tribute of affection, this spontaneous testimony to the merits of a distinguished public servant; yet I must warn the public against such demonstrations either of approval or disapproval. Should they be repeated it will be my duty at once to clear the court. Mr. van Beneden, I beg you to proceed." August had made the most of this interruption, he had wiped his forehead and refreshed himself with a draught of iced water. He continued: "After the fatal evening, William Verstork repeatedly visited Kaligaweh. He thought he thoroughly knew Setrosmito and remembered the well known lines of Racine: 'Un jour ne fait point d'un mortel vertueux Un perfide assassin, un lâche meurtrier.' But, for all that he determined to sift the case to the very bottom. He made minute inquiries on all sides, and, as the result of his investigation, he found that the man who is now sitting there before you crushed under the load of so terrible an accusation, has ever been an irreproachable husband, a tender and devoted father, an industrious hard-working labourer--that he is, in fact, one of those quiet and submissive villagers of which our Javanese population is chiefly composed, and which make it possible for an entire race, which may well be called the quietest and meekest on earth, to submit to the cruel fiscal yoke we have imposed upon it. I have here, lying on this table before me, the sworn testimony of the wedono of the district of Banjoe Pahit. He states that on a certain occasion, when a loerah had to be appointed for the dessa Kaligaweh, the man most eligible for the post was this same Setrosmito, especially because he was known never to touch opium; but that he could not recommend him for the appointment, because the man could neither read nor write. "Now, gentlemen, I ask you, how comes it to pass that a man bearing so excellent a character should be brought up here before you as an opium smuggler and a murderer? An opium smuggler! At those words your very looks betray what is passing in your minds. You know well enough what is going on in this residence of Santjoemeh. You turn away in disgust at the mere mention of the word 'opium smuggler!' But, let me ask you, upon what grounds has the prosecution founded this most serious charge? Why, upon no grounds whatever! The prosecution has not even attempted to bring forth any proof of the prisoner's guilt. Their case rests entirely upon the unsupported word of one of the opium farmer's bandoelans--upon the bare assertion of a vile wretch whom public opinion holds up to public execration as capable of the lowest and most infamous perjury. Yes, gentlemen, I repeat it most emphatically, this charge rests upon nothing whatever but upon the bare word of Singomengolo, and upon that little box which lies there in evidence before you on this table. "But, you all must remember, it is not so very long ago, that, on this very same table, we had before us a number of those little boxes, all of them the property of that same bandoelan; and that, on that occasion, you had to acquit the daughter of the prisoner who was also charged with smuggling; who was charged with smuggling, mind, by that same Singomengolo. And how did he attempt to prove that charge? Why, by swearing that he had seized upon her person a box precisely similar to that which you now see before you. Again I ask you, what proofs have we that this box was discovered under the pandan-mat of the couch in Setrosmito's dwelling? We have none! You hear me, I repeat that word, we have absolutely no proof of the truth of that bare assertion. But, on the contrary, for the defence, I have the clearest possible proofs that it never was there at all. We rely on proofs which are absolutely incontrovertible. And here, gentlemen, allow me once again to turn to the sworn evidence of my friend William Verstork. "'When one of the Chinese bandoelans, accompanied by a couple of police oppassers, presented themselves at the door of Setrosmito's house for the purpose of making a domiciliary visit, no opposition whatever was offered to their searching the place. The only precaution taken was that they were themselves submitted to a search before entering the premises. On that occasion no opium, nor any vestige of opium was found; not even under that very pandan-mat on the couch. The two oppassers and the witnesses Sidin and Sariman, who were present at the visitation, have expressly sworn to that fact. Sariman indeed has sworn most positively that the pandan-mat was twice lifted up, and that the Chinaman had most minutely examined the pillow which lay upon it.' "That I think is plain enough, gentlemen, is it not? "But now, allow me to continue with Verstork's sworn declaration. "Very shortly after they had left, Singomengolo himself appeared to search the house. He refused point-blank to submit to the usual body search; whereupon Setrosmito protested and said: 'In that case, no doubt, opium will be discovered in my house. I know all about these dodges.' I have the proofs of all this here before me signed by the Kabajan of the dessa. "And, of course, opium was found, gentlemen. It was discovered in the very spot where the Chinese bandoelan, who was no fool either, had looked twice without making any discovery. That again is clear enough, I think. "Opium smuggler! The court will understand that I fling the odious accusation far, far away from me. Not indeed because the charge has not been legally proved; for I know that in these opium-cases very curious evidence is often admitted; but because my client is innocent, absolutely innocent, of any such offence; because he is the victim of one of those detestable conspiracies which, as every one well knows, are commonly resorted to when some obnoxious individual has to be removed or some sordid wretch thirsts for revenge. "Opium smuggler! Yes, the prosecution has dwelt at considerable length and with considerable eloquence upon the millions, the tens of millions, of which this illegal traffic is robbing the public exchequer. "As the Public Prosecutor made his fervent appeal, every heart was thrilling with emotion, though it may not perhaps have been of a very noble kind. And, gentlemen, he was perfectly right. Millions, yea tens of millions are lost to the revenue! But they are not lost in the manner the prosecution has so graphically described; they are not conveyed away in little boxes which hold but a minute quantity of the drug. The millions of which we heard so much just now--Ah, gentlemen! need I tell you who are the men that thus defraud the revenue? Why your own hearts have already pronounced their names, they are trembling now on your very lips. Those smugglers are not poor dessa-folk, they flaunt their ill-gotten wealth boldly in the face of our good people of Santjoemeh; and can afford to keep Singomengolos to remove out of their path any unfortunate creature who may stand in their way. Shall I mention these names which are even now on every lip? Why should I do so? An Attorney General once ventured to lay his finger on the plague-spot and to denounce these criminals to the Governor General. What did he gain by it? That is the question I would ask you?" The young barrister here paused for a few moments, to allow these last words, which he had driven home like a wedge, time to sink into the hearts of his hearers. In the pandoppo the deepest silence reigned. The assembled crowd sat breathless listening to every word as it fell from van Beneden's lips. On all those faces there was but one expression, and it said plainly enough "Aye truly! that is the state of things which the accursed opium-monopoly has created in this island." After a short pause, August continued: "I now pass on to the second and far more terrible charge which has been brought against my client. Shall I be able to purge him of that accusation as I know that I have cleared him of the former? Here there is no question of denial. The facts are all plain enough and are all frankly admitted. The fatal deed has been done, the grave has closed over the ill-starred victim; and the weapon, the kris with which the fatal wound was inflicted, lies there before you on the table. "The prosecution has given us a shockingly graphic description of the terrible occurrence, and has painted, in the most vivid colours, the manner in which that kris was slashed across the throat of the unhappy bandoelan. It is not difficult to see why so much stress was laid upon the bloody scene, and why we had the loathsome details so forcibly placed before us. But yet, gentlemen, I venture to think, that the cause of my client has been benefited rather than damaged by this vivid word-painting. For the more painful the impression produced, the more forcibly must the question arise: 'How was it possible that a creature of so quiet and meek a nature could have been goaded to a deed of such unbridled fury?' Again I appeal to the testimony of William Verstork, and I think it well to tell you that I also have personally and independently made a careful investigation into all the facts of this most painful case; and the results of my personal inquiry I will proceed to lay before you. Yes, gentlemen, I also shall have to be graphic and realistic; but remember that I am merely following the example set me by the prosecution. Yes, gentlemen, I also shall have to enter into harrowing and revolting details; but I shall do so only because the cause for which I am pleading compels me to that course." And now the young lawyer displayed a power of eloquence such as had never before been heard in Santjoemeh--never perhaps in all Dutch India. He made use of words not only but also of gestures. He "acted" as Mrs. van Gulpendam spitefully remarked to one of her friends. Yes, he did enact before his spell-bound audience that tragic scene, building up the entire drama, as Cuvier out of a single bone would construct the entire skeleton of some antediluvian monster. He made them see how the opium-hunters penetrated that peaceful dwelling. He made them hear how Singomengolo haughtily refused to submit to any examination. One could behold as it were the ruthless ransacking of all the poor furniture, one could hear the children crying and wailing at the licentious conduct of the ruffians who had respect neither for age nor sex. The entire audience shuddered at the "Allah Tobat," the frenzied cry of the desperate mother, and one could see also how, at his wife's bitter cry, Setrosmito's eye had, for a single instant, glanced away from Singomengolo, and how the latter had profited by that instant of distraction to draw forth the box of opium with a gesture of insolent triumph. How rage and indignation wrung from the unhappy father an abusive epithet which was answered immediately by a blow in the mouth. How, stung to madness at that insult, Setrosmito grasped his kris; how at that fatal moment the cry of little Kembang had drawn the attention of the father to his poor little girl; how he had seen her exposed to the hideous outrages of the Chinese bandoelan. All these events the eloquence of the advocate conjured up, as it were, before the eyes of his hearers. At the words, "Let go!" uttered with incomparable energy, the audience seemed to see the father flinging himself upon the astonished bandoelan, who, dazed by the very imminence of peril, had not sufficient presence of mind to desist from his outrageous conduct, and thereupon resounded the terrible words, "Die then like a dog!" in a tone which filled the entire pandoppo with shuddering horror. Even Setrosmito, who profoundly ignorant of the Dutch language did not understand a word of his counsel's speech, and had for some time been sitting vacantly staring before him, even he, at length, grew attentive, lifted his eyes inquiringly to the young man's face, and then kept them riveted upon him with concentrated intensity. No! the rich flow of words had no meaning to him whatever; but the gestures he could interpret quite plainly. He saw the whole tragedy unfolded before his eyes--he saw his outraged child--he saw the hand of the speaker go through the very action which cost a human life. With eyes glittering with excitement he nodded again and again at his counsel, while thick heavy tear-drops kept trickling down his cheeks. "Yes, that is how it happened," he murmured audibly amidst the deep silence to the Javanese chiefs while he stretched out his arms imploringly towards them. "And," continued van Beneden, with still increasing fervour, "if now, after having thus laid before you the bare facts of the case, if now I turn to you with the question: 'Is that man guilty of murder--who slew another--yes; but who slew him in a moment of ungovernable rage, and in defence of his innocent child?' What must be your answer? Is there anyone here who would cast a stone at him who drew the weapon--and who used it--to preserve his own child from the foulest outrage that can be perpetrated in a father's sight? Aye but, 'this is a question of opium-police!' If I could, for a moment, harbour the thought that anyone present under this roof would, for the sake of the opium question, desire to hear a verdict of guilty returned against this man--why then, in sheer despair, I should be driven to exclaim: 'Woe to the nation that contains such a wretch--woe to the man, who, for so sordid a principle, would tread Eternal Justice under foot--such a nation must be near its fall!'" The effect of these words was simply indescribable, a shudder seemed to run through the assembly. "And now," continued the young man turning to the prosecution, "go on your way, pile one judicial error upon another, erect for yourself a pedestal so lofty that the cry of the unhappy victim of the opium traffic--that insatiable Minotaur--will not reach your ears! The time will come, when, from above, retribution will overtake you. The day will dawn when the Dutch nation will awake out of its lethargy and sweep you and your opium-god from the face of the earth. "As for you," continued August van Beneden turning to the members of the council and speaking in a more subdued voice, but yet with a persuasive energy which it was impossible to withstand, "as for you, gentlemen, place yourselves, I pray you, in the position of that unhappy man whose eyes were just now dropping tears as I sketched, in a manner which could reach his comprehension, the terrible deed of which he is accused. Picture to yourselves the hours--the days of mortal anxiety he has passed through, and is even now passing through as his fate is hanging on your lips--then you will in some measure, be able to realise the unutterable joy with which he presently will hail the verdict which you will deliver--a verdict of 'not guilty' which will restore to his wife and family a man who can so sturdily stand up in their defence." Having thus said, van Beneden resumed his seat, or rather fell back exhausted in his chair. It was getting late, the sun was high up in the heavens, and an oppressive heat weighed like lead upon the assembled crowd. For a few moments, absolute silence ensued, the silence of emotions too deep for utterance and which was broken only by a sob here and there. But then, a tempest of cheering arose which made the very roof tremble, and amidst which the stentorian voice of the usher was completely drowned. This applause and general enthusiasm continued for a considerable time, and was not hushed until the president had repeatedly threatened to have the court cleared. The prosecution was crushed, utterly annihilated. Feeling that his cause was lost, the djaksa attempted to have the trial adjourned; but Mr. Greveland saw plainly enough how very undesirable such an adjournment would be; and he wisely refused to grant it. Thus compelled there and then to get up and reply, Mas Wirio Kesoemo could not rise to the level of his subject. He mumbled a few words which did not awaken the slightest attention--he said something about the necessity of vindicating the action of the police, he uttered a few incoherent sentences, he stammered, he drawled, he repeated himself over and over again, and finally sat down without having produced any impression whatever. As soon as he had ended, the president called upon the defence to exercise its right of reply. With a gesture of lofty disdain, van Beneden refused to avail himself of his privilege: "No, no, Mr. President," he said, "anything I could now add would but lessen the impression made by the prosecution. It is to the weakness of the charge brought against him, rather than to the power of the defence, that my client must owe his acquittal." After a moment's pause the president turned to the panghoeloe and asked him what law the sacred book prescribed. In a sleepy tone of voice the latter replied, "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth--the man has taken a life--the man must die." A shriek resounded in the pandoppo, a Javanese woman had fainted away. The members of the council thereupon retired to their consulting room. After a while they returned into court and the clerk proceeded to read out an elaborate judgment, wherein, after a number of "seeing thats" and "whereases," the verdict of "Not Guilty" on both counts was at length pronounced. Then the real storm broke loose. A great number of the audience rushed up to van Beneden and warmly congratulated him on the victory he had just gained. The president, far from trying to repress the general enthusiasm, now cordially joined in it. August raised Setrosmito from the floor and whispered some words in his ear which were immediately afterwards affirmed by the Regent himself. The poor Javanese cast one single look at his young champion, he pressed his hand to his heart and uttered a few incoherent words. But that one look was sufficient for van Beneden, it was the overflowing of a grateful heart. At the very bottom of the pandoppo one solitary voice cried out: "Great is the justice of the whites!" A few moments after, the pandoppo was deserted. Said Grashuis to his friend as he was walking home with him: "By Jove, old fellow, you have knocked the wind clean out of me--I am still under the spell. That is natural enough; but what I want to know is how you managed to get the native chiefs on your side?" "Very simply indeed," replied the other, "I called upon them yesterday and read my speech to them in Malay." "Come, come, that's cute!" laughed Grashuis. The young lawyer, however, did not tell his friend that, at the conclusion of that visit, the old Regent of Santjoemeh had pressed his hand and whispered to him: "You are a noble fellow!" CHAPTER XXXV. A MEETING IN THE KARANG BOLLONG MOUNTAINS. On the western slope of the Goenoeng Poleng--that mighty mass of rock which forms the nucleus, as it were, of the Karang Bollong range running along the South Coast of Java, and not far from the dessa Ajo there stood a modest little hut. To the traveller approaching from the North or from the South, it was completely hidden by the walls of rock which towered around it. Steeply rising ground but scantily covered with thin grass and prickly shrubs, shut out all view from the back of the little cabin. From either side also nothing could be seen but the rocky slopes, with here and there a small patch of arable ground. But the front of the hut offered a prospect which, for loveliness and variety, could hardly be equalled, certainly not surpassed; and which amply made up for the dreariness of the view on the other sides. From the small front gallery or verandah the incline ran down pretty swiftly, and displayed to the eye a panorama which might in truth be called magnificent. Immediately beneath this verandah lay the mountain-slope; at first bald and bare, with huge weather-worn boulders scattered about here and there, and a few stunted shrubs. Between these a narrow pathway ran winding down. In its tortuous course it seemed to rival the brook, as, twisting and bubbling and splashing and foaming, it went merrily and swiftly dancing down its fantastically-cut bed. As gradually the slope ran down to the valley, the vegetable kingdom began to assert itself more and more. At first there appeared dwarf trees with curiously twisted trunks and strangely gnarled branches, these, in their turn, gave way to the more luxuriant representatives of the realm of Silvanus, and these again gradually merged into a rich plantation of fruit-bearing trees, above which the tall cocoa-nut palms reared their feathered heads waving and nodding to the breeze. Beyond this, at the foot of the mountain, lay the little dessa Ajo, snugly embowered in a mass of glossy foliage. Very pleasant to look at from the eminence were the dwellings of the native villagers with their neat brown roofs and bright yellow fences peeping here and there through the rich verdure, reflected in the waters of the Kali Djetis, which forms the western boundary of the dessa; and which, at that point, makes a majestic sweep before emptying itself by a wide mouth into the Indian Ocean. The view of that ocean still further enhanced the beauty of the grand panorama which lay stretched out in front of the little hut. On a fine calm day the deep-blue expanse of water extended far--endlessly far--away to the horizon, glittering under the rays of the tropical sun like a metallic mirror; while numerous fishing boats, with their white but quaintly-shaped sails, hovered about the Moeara Djetis, and skimmed like birds over the glassy surface. When, however, the South-East trade was blowing stiffly, and the flood-tide helped to raise the waves, the aspect of the ocean was entirely changed. Then not a single boat was to be seen; but heavy breakers came tumbling in, and, as these reached the mouth of the river, and met the body of downflowing mountain water, they would tower up and roll along steadily for awhile as a huge wall of solid blue, then curl over into mighty crests, and finally break into a foam-sheet of dazzling whiteness. This magnificent spectacle, a kind of prororoca on a small scale, could be watched from the verandah in its minutest details. The hut itself was but a very poor little dwelling; constructed, as those places generally are, of such primitive materials as bamboo and atap. It consisted indeed merely of four walls and a roof. It had a door in front and behind, which gave access to a small verandah, while, in the side-walls, two square shutters did duty for windows. Whether or not the space within was divided into separate apartments we cannot tell. There are secrets into which a novelist must not venture to pry; and there are feelings which, even he, must know how to respect. It may be his duty--his painful duty--to introduce his readers to an opium-den, and reveal to them the horrors it conceals, if, by so doing, he may reasonably hope to do something to cure a crying evil; but he ought not, without sufficient reason, to invade the sacred rights of privacy by throwing open to his readers a cottage wherein-- But, modest as was the little building which stood there lonely and deserted on that mountain slope, and poor as was its outward appearance, yet there existed a very marked difference between it and the other cabins, the dwellings of the dessa people, far down at the foot of the mountain. The difference consisted herein, that it was scrupulously neat and clean, and bore no trace whatever of the slovenliness and general want of cleanliness which is too often the characteristic of the houses of the ordinary Javanese villager. The Javanese, indeed, are an Eastern race. As such they have certain points in common with all the other branches of the great Oriental family, whether we call them Moors, Hindoos, Arabs, Chinese, Egyptians, Berbers, aye, or even Greeks, Italians, or Spaniards. The entire house from top to bottom, from the roof of fresh nipah leaves to the hedge of yellow bamboo hurdle, looked bright and clean. The small plot of ground in front was carefully laid out as a trim garden with well kept paths and pretty bits of green lawn. The flower-beds also, and the ornamental shrubs, which grew around, spoke of careful tending, while an impenetrable hedge of the conyza indica enclosed the entire nook. At the back of the house lay a patch of grass, evidently used as a drying ground, for several articles of female apparel, such as slendangs, sarongs, and the like, were hanging on ropes stretched over bamboo poles, and fluttered in the breeze. In the front gallery a single flower-pot was conspicuous, a thing very seldom found in any Javanese house, in which flowered a magnificent "Devoniensis" in full bloom; and close by stood a native loom, at which a young girl was seated cross-legged on a low bamboo stool. Wholly intent upon her work, she is plying the shuttle with nimble fingers. As novelist, we are, to some extent, a privileged being, and may venture to draw near though we would not intrude into the little house. The girl is so deeply absorbed in her task that we have leisure, unperceived, to examine the further contents of the verandah; but specially to watch its solitary occupant. That she has for some considerable time been hard at work, the reel tells us; for it already contains quite a thick roll of tissue, the result of her day's toil; so does, likewise, the spinning-wheel, which stands hard by, ready to supply the shuttle with thread as soon as it may need replenishing. As regards the girl herself, she is, just now, bending forward over her work so that we cannot catch even a glimpse of her features. Her dress, consisting of a simple jacket of light-blue cotton, and the sarong made of some dark-coloured material, with a gay flowering pattern, proclaim her to be a Javanese. So also do the hands and such parts of the face and neck as we are able to see, by their brownish yellow tint. So again does the hair which is combed away smooth from the forehead and rolled up at the back of the head in a thick heavy kondeh or plait. Aye, but--that kondeh, however carefully it may have been plaited and fastened up, yet it at once awakens our curiosity. Little rebellious locks have here and there strayed away, and very unlike the stiff straight hair of full-bred Javanese beauties, they curl and cluster lovingly around the plait, while the shorter hair under the kondeh also forms crisp little curls which cast a dark shade over the light-brown neck. "Might she be a nonna after all?" we murmur inaudibly. Our suspicion is strengthened when, by the side of the little stool, our eye lights upon a pair of tiny slippers. These slippers are not remarkable in any way, they are of the simplest make and wholly devoid of ornament; but it strikes us at once that in Java girls or women hardly ever wear such things, and then--more remarkable still--their size and shape point to the fact that the owner's feet in no way correspond to the broad, splay feet of the natives. As we stand wondering and losing ourselves in surmises, the weaving girl very slightly changes her position, and one snow-white toe comes peeping out from under her sarong. The startling difference of colour betrays the secret at once: She is a nonna! Wholly unconscious of our proximity the girl looks up and casts a single glance at the fair view stretched out before her--she utters a deep sigh and-- "That face," we murmur inwardly, "where have we seen that pretty face?" We have, however, no time to collect our thoughts, for, the next moment as the young girl is again bowing her head to resume her work, a quick light footstep is heard on the path which leads to Ajo. The girl looks up, evidently scared at the unusual sound, she peers anxiously forward and then, almost bereft of the power of speech by the suddenness of the surprise, she gasps forth the cry, "Dalima!" Yes, it is indeed Dalima who, with nimble step, has crossed the garden and is now running up to the verandah. The weaving-girl starts up from her stool, and before her unexpected visitor has time to mount the three steps, the pair are locked in each other's embrace and forming, as it were, but one exclamation we hear the words: "Nana!" "Dalima!" Now the mystery is cleared up, now we recognize at once both the one and the other. That weaving girl is Anna van Gulpendam and the other is poor Dalima whom we followed in her anxious and painful search as far as Karang Anjer when we lost sight of her until now. "Where have you come from?" asked Anna, as again and again she clasped the Javanese girl to her breast. "To-day I came from the dessa Ajo," archly replied Dalima. "What brought you there?" "Well, I came from the dessa Pringtoetoel, that's where I was yesterday." "But," continued Anna, "what business had you there?" "The day before that," resumed Dalima not heeding the interruption, "I was at Gombong and the day before that again at Karang Anjer." "At Karang Anjer?" exclaimed Anna. "What induced you to go there?" "To look for my Nana," was the reply. "To look for me? Is that why you have come all the way from Santjoemeh? Have you undertaken so long a journey to look for me?--and in your condition too!" Anna spoke these last words with some hesitation, while the furtive glance she cast at the poor girl's figure left no doubt as to her meaning. "Yes, Nana," replied Dalima very quietly and without the least trace of confusion. "As soon as ever I left the prison, thanks to the aid of the young judge," continued she, as she fixed one penetrating look upon Anna who felt the blood fly up to her cheeks at the words, "I went to look after my mother. Thanks again to toean Nerekool, I found her and the children well provided for. My next thought was for my Nana. The toean had told me that the nonna was no longer staying at Karang Anjer but had left, and had vanished without leaving a trace behind her. I thought I could guess why. I knew how lonely, how forsaken, how utterly miserable my dear Nana must feel. An irresistible longing came over me--the longing you know of a young woman in my situation--" she added with a faint sad smile, "to go at once and look for Nana so that I might be of some service to her. I started and--" "Does toean van Nerekool know of all this?" asked Anna much alarmed. "No, Nana, he knows nothing whatever about it." "You did not tell him what you were going to do?" "No, Nana, I did not." "Might you not perhaps have dropped some hint to Mr. van Nerekool, or may be to your mother? Do, Dalima, try and remember!" "No, I have not given toean Charles the slightest hint of my intention. I told my mother that I was going to seek for you." "Where?" asked Anna. "Well, Nana, at Karang Anjer." "But you knew that you would not find me at Karang Anjer?" "Oh, I knew that; but I wanted to see Mrs. Steenvlak. I thought she would be sure to tell me where you had gone." "Did you go to Mrs. Steenvlak?" inquired Anna, "Yes, Nana." "And--?" "I could learn nothing from her. The njonja confessed that she knew where you were; but she refused to tell me--she said she had promised not to let anyone know." Anna drew a deep sigh of relief. "But how then did you manage to find me, Dalima?" she asked. "Well, Nana, how shall I tell you that? It is such a long story. I have been wandering about in all directions, I have made inquiries everywhere. I asked at the posting-houses, at the loerahs of each dessa I passed through. I questioned the gardoes and the stall-keepers on the road. In fact I asked everywhere and everybody. In my wanderings, at length I happened to come to the dessa Pembanan." "The dessa Pembanan!" cried Anna in the greatest agitation. "Yes," resumed Dalima, "that's where I found the first trace. You took a cup of coffee there at a stall while you had to wait for the pole of your sedan to be repaired." Anna glanced down uneasily at her yellow-stained hands. "Oh! it is no use looking at your hands," continued Dalima with a smile. "The old stall-keeper has sharp eyes and the stain could hardly deceive her. She guessed at once that you were either a nonna or a princess." "Well, go on!" sighed Anna. "You asked her how far Pembanan was from the dessas Sikaja and Pringtoetoel--did you not?" "Yes, that is so," replied Anna. "Very well, then, that clue I have followed, up hill and down dale." "Poor, poor dear girl!" cried Anna, as with tears in her eyes she again clasped Dalima to her breast. "Poor child! such a journey, and in your condition, too! Yes, now I see how worn and weary you look!" "Oh, that's nothing!" cried Dalima cheerfully, "that's nothing, I am strong enough, Nana, don't trouble yourself about that. "At Pringtoetoel," she continued, "I got further information. There they told me that you had gone on to the dessa Ajo. When I got there I found the very sedan in which you had travelled--it was stowed away in the loerah's grounds--and they told me that you had a house built for yourself up here--How very pretty!" As she said this Dalima looked around; and an involuntary sigh escaped from her lips, a sigh which contrasted strangely with her spoken words. The Javanese girl could not help comparing this wretched little tenement with the stately Residential palace at Santjoemeh. Hitherto the conversation had been carried on standing, the girls half leaning upon, half embracing one another. Said Anna, who perfectly understood the meaning of that sigh and wished to break the train of Dalima's thoughts: "Come, let us sit down, you must be dead-tired, poor Dalima." So saying she resumed her seat on the little bench while Dalima, as in days gone by, squatted down on the mat at Anna's feet and laid her head lovingly in her mistress's lap. Then the conversation flowed on as briskly as before. "No, Nana," said Dalima, "I am not the least tired. I arrived yesterday morning, very early, at Ajo and have had plenty of time for rest." "But now," resumed Anna, "do tell me something about yourself, about your own affairs, about the trial and all that." Thereupon followed the story with which our readers are acquainted. We need hardly add that in the telling of it van Nerekool's name was by no means forgotten. Dalima's deep gratitude to her benefactor would not allow her for an instant to neglect his interests. It even seemed as if that gentleman's name was introduced into her story more frequently than the narrative strictly required. So much so that Anna could not help saying: "Will you assure me, will you swear, that it was not at Mr. van Nerekool's suggestion that you have undertaken this journey in quest of me?" "Yes, Nana, I will swear it," replied Dalima readily and with the utmost candour. "And now," continued Anna, "you must make me another promise, and that is that you will never in any way whatever, let him know that you have succeeded in finding me." Dalima made no reply. For a few moments she hesitated. "Now listen to me, Dalima," resumed Anna very firmly, "if you will not make me that promise, and promise it most solemnly, then we must part. You will have to leave me and I shall go elsewhere. Heaven only knows where I shall go to!" One instant the Javanese girl looked up at her companion incredulously--then seeing that Anna was in downright earnest she exclaimed: "Not stay with you, Nana! Oh! do not say so. I who have travelled so far to be with you. You cannot mean it. Not stay with you? But that can never be. I have left my parents, my friends, my home, my all--only to be close to you--and now you talk of parting!" The poor child could get no further; uncontrollable sobs stifled her voice. "No, no!" cried Anna, who was in reality no less deeply moved than her companion; "no, no, very far from it. Above all things I wish to keep you here with me; but you must promise that you will not let anyone know where I am hiding--will you promise that?" Dalima flung herself weeping into her mistress's arms: "You are so lonely here, so miserably poor!" she sobbed. "Oh, that is nothing," cried Anna, "never mind that; I have got used to it." "He loves you so dearly, so tenderly," pleaded the baboe. "Not another word on that subject, Dalima," said Anna, very sternly; "you cannot possibly understand how insurmountable a barrier there exists between Mr. van Nerekool and myself. There can never be a question of marriage between us, let me tell you that once and for all." The baboe made no immediate reply, but went on sobbing and weeping as if her heart would break. "Will you make that promise, Dalima?" insisted Anna. "I owe him so much," sobbed Dalima, "I am so anxious to make him happy." "You would be doing him the greatest wrong, Dalima." "Wrong?" cried the baboe, "how so? by bringing him to you; oh, Nana!" "Once again, I say not another word on that subject," cried Anna; and then, taking her companion's hand she continued: "Now, Dalima, give me your hand--so, that is right; now you will give me your promise, will you not?" "It makes my heart ache to think of it," sobbed Dalima, "but if you will have it so, I must obey. I give you my promise." "That's a good girl," said Anna cheerfully, but with a painful smile. "Now I am glad that you have come, for you will be able to help me, oh! ever so much. Look what a splendid striped material I have here on the loom." "Do you make those things, yourself, Nana?" asked Dalima in pitying accents, "you, the daughter of a kandjeng toean Resident?" "Now, Dalima," said Anna sadly, "that is another subject you must never mention. Not a soul knows me here. They do not so much as suspect that I am a white woman. They take me for a Solo princess who has been banished by her father--you told me so yourself--Oh! there are such funny stories about that, the one funnier than the other. You see that name of poetri is of the greatest use to me. The good dessa-folk look upon me as a kind of supernatural being and it protects me from all danger. Why even the old woman who sells my goods takes me for a relative of the Queen of the South, and can get much better prices for me than the things would otherwise fetch." "Do you sell those 'kains' you make, Nana?" exclaimed Dalima, folding her hands in sorrowful wonder, "you, the child of a kandjeng toean?" "But Dalima," replied Anna, with a smile, "that child of a kandjeng toean, as you call her, must eat like other mortals. Come, I must get on with my work, we have wasted too much time already in talking. That kain polèng mas has been ordered and I must get it done as soon as possible." So Anna set to work again at the loom. Dalima, for a little while, sat watching her with tearful eyes; but presently she jumped up, took the spinning-wheel and placed it close to the loom so that they could continue their conversation without allowing their hands to be idle, and then began industriously to spin. So clever did she show herself at the wheel that Anna gave her an approving nod and said: "That's right; now I shall have some real help and we shall get on famously. Nothing kept me back so much as that continual spinning every time my spool was empty." "Oh, but," said Dalima, with a smile, and not without a touch of pride, "I can do a good deal more than spinning. You will see I can take my turn at the loom as well. I am a particularly good hand at painting on linen." "Indeed, I am glad to hear that; then you will be of the greatest use to me; for I must confess I am as yet rather awkward at it though I have improved very much since I began. Before we go and get dinner ready I must show you some of my productions in that line." Thus chatting, the girls went on working diligently for another couple of hours until it became time to go to the kitchen. In that department also, everything was poor enough. It required no very elaborate cookery-book to prepare their simple meal. Dalima would not allow her Nana to have any hand whatever in the cooking. She took the basket of raw rice, ran to the brook which flowed hard by, thoroughly washed the grains until the water ran off clear through the basket. Then she put the koekoesan on the fire in a dangdang, wrapped a little salt fish with herbs and Spanish pepper in pisang leaves to make pèpèsan ikan, and roasted them slightly over the glowing coal fire. Next she toasted a few strips of meat and had everything ready long before the rice was done. "Now, Nana," she asked as she looked around, "where is our table and the table-linen? I want to lay the cloth." "You forget, it seems, Dalima, that I have turned Javanese. If I wish to remain unknown, I must conform, in every respect, to the manners and customs of our dessa-people There is my table and these are my knife and fork." Thus saying, Anna pointed downwards to the pandan mat which covered the floor and then held up her taper fingers. Dalima heaved a deep sigh. "But, Nana," she asked, "can it be necessary for you to work and to live thus? Have you then no money at all?" "Money!" replied Anna, who retained all her pride in the midst of her adversity, "I have plenty of money, I am very well off, I might indeed call myself rich for one in my position. But you must not forget that I am in hiding; and that if I did not work and did not live exactly like the natives, they would begin to suspect me and then my hiding-place would very soon be discovered. Moreover, who can tell what the future may have in store; the day may come when that money which I now so carefully hoard, though you may perhaps think me stingy, may be of the greatest use to us?" "Oh, Nana!" cried the baboe, as she strove to put in a word. But Anna would have no arguments. "Come, come," said she, "let us change the subject. While the rice is boiling, come and see how I have been getting on with my painting." She took Dalima into the back-gallery where stood several frames on which were stretched the tissues she had woven and which showed the process of painting in all its stages. On one of them the piece of linen was as yet pure white and the flowers which were to be painted were only lightly traced upon it. Another frame showed the designs partly covered with wax, so as to protect these parts from the action of the dye. On a third again the ground colour had been applied and the wax had been removed from such portions of the design as were to receive the next coat of paint. Neatly arranged around stood the small pots of colours, of indigo, of red paint, of brown paint, of yellow paint, and so forth. All these things Dalima surveyed with the critical eye of an expert and she highly approved of the arrangements. She took up a saucer which held the wax, and having held it to the fire, she proceeded, by means of a little tube, to pour the melted substance on one of the drawings and so gave proof of her skill in that kind of work. "You see, Nana!" she cried, triumphantly, "you see how useful I shall be to you! I shall also teach you how to use the 'aboe Kesambi' (ashes of the Scheichera trijaga), I don't see any about here--then you will see how vastly your flowers will improve in colour and softness." Thus then had baboe Dalima found a home on the slope of the Goenoeng Poleng. Thus she was again united to the young mistress to whom she was attached with a fervour of devotion which is not uncommon among Javanese servants. Both girls toiled and moiled together. Anna insisted upon taking her full share in all the drudgery of the little housekeeping--and whatever objections the baboe might strive to make, Anna would share and share alike. In Dalima she had acquired not a servant; but a true and faithful companion and friend, and a comforter and supporter in the time of her bitter trial. How long was that peaceful life to last--? CHAPTER XXXVI. LIM HO'S WEDDING. On a fine September morning, of the same year in which the other events of our story took place, Santjoemeh was once again in a state of commotion. And no wonder. For that day had been fixed upon for the marriage of Lim Ho. Of Lim Ho, the son of the opium farmer, the son of the millionaire Lim Yang Bing, with Ngow Ming Nio, the prettiest Chinese girl of Santjoemeh, the prettiest perhaps in all Dutch India. She was the only daughter of old Ngow Ming Than, a speculator who had dealt in every possible thing out of which money could be made, and who was honoured, esteemed and sought after for the sake of the millions he had scraped together. Money everywhere exercises a certain power of attraction; not otherwise was it at Santjoemeh, and the union of two such enormous capitals was certain, therefore, to awaken general interest. Moreover, a Chinese wedding of this kind was a very rare occurrence, and the reports of the magnificence which the house of Lim Yang Bing would display on the occasion, were so extravagant that they bordered on the miraculous, and opened to the imagination visions like those of the Arabian Nights. All Santjoemeh--taking these words in the same sense as "tout Paris" on similar occasions--had been scheming and intriguing to obtain an invitation; and many a pleasant smile had been lavished on babah Ong Sing Kok, or on babah Than Soeï, the purveyors of Mesdames Zoetbrouw and Greenhoed, ladies who, in the ordinary way, did not waste their blandishments on Chinamen, because it was thought that these gentlemen had a pretty large acquaintance among the staff of servants on Lim Yang Bing's establishment, and that through them the much coveted card of invitation might be procured. There were some who were wicked enough to whisper, that a certain nonna had promised one of Lim Ho's cousins to give him a kiss if he would procure her parents a ticket for admission. The wicked went on to say, that this Chinaman, a shrewd fellow--like most of his race--had refused to undertake the negotiation, unless he received payment on account; an instalment which was not to count on the day of final settlement. That these negotiations had been very much protracted owing to the many difficulties which would constantly arise; that, on every such check in the proceedings, progress had to be reported to the young lady, and that our artful young Celestial had made every fresh effort on his part depend upon the payment of another instalment on hers. If all this were true, then the poor nonna must have paid pretty dearly for her ticket--in kisses. That, however, is the story of the wicked, it is not ours. On that September morning then, Santjoemeh was in a fever of excitement and expectation. If here and there perhaps Lim Ho's ugly adventure with baboe Dalima had not been forgotten, the remembrance of that outrage did not damp the general enthusiasm, or keep any one at home. Those who were troubled with a somewhat tender conscience, laid the flattering unction to their soul that, as there had been no prosecution, probably the whole story was false, or that, at the worst, no great harm had been done. Others there were who fully believed the truth of the reports which had been spread abroad; and who actually envied Lim Ho his "bonne fortune." That Dalima was such a pretty girl! Oh, no! there was no one who would deny himself the expected pleasure on that account. It was very much the other way. The evening before the eventful day, Santjoemeh had had something like a foretaste of the coming joy. For, on that evening, a procession had started to the Chinese temple. Now, marriage has, in the celestial empire, no necessary connection whatever with any religious observances; yet, on the present occasion, it had been thought well to propitiate the goddess Má Tsów Pô, the guardian and protecting deity of candidates for matrimony and of newly married people. Accordingly, on the eve of the wedding, a procession had been formed in front of the bride's house. First came a numerous band of native musicians who, on their brass instruments accompanied by a drum of monstrous size, performed a selection of waltzes, polkas, mazurkas and redowas. In spite of the horrible dissonance of their execution, these lively tunes would have set even Johann Strauss a jigging could he but have heard them. Then followed a corps of Chinese artists whose grating one-stringed fiddles, clashing cymbals and discordant screeching wind-instruments, alternated with the former band; and produced a mixed medley of hideous sounds, which literally set one's teeth on edge, and put all but the most inveterate sightseers to instant flight. At the head of the procession and in its rear, marched six torch-bearers, while eight paper lanterns were born aloft on red poles on either side. These shed a soft coloured light and, by their fantastic shapes, imparted a thoroughly Chinese air to the scene. But the nucleus, and most important part of the pageant, consisted of twelve boys who walked two and two, and were called 'lo jen see' (barefeet). They were dressed in short nankin gowns reaching only to the knee, under which appeared the bare legs and feet, and on their heads they wore tall conical caps, trimmed with red fringe. Each of these youths held in his hand the pa-lee, or hollow metal ring containing little bits of iron, from which hung small copper bells. With these, the bearers made a gentle rattling sound as they marched along. When the temple was reached, the boys grouped themselves around the image of Má Tsów Pô, a deity represented as standing on the clouds and wearing a crown in token of her dignity of Queen of Heaven. Then, to a kind of measure, they began to mumble and chaunt their prayers and incantations, shaking their ring the while incessantly. This went on for about the space of an hour, and then the procession reformed and marched homeward with a far greater crowd at its heels than had accompanied its setting out. The next day, however, was the great day. Very early in the morning carriages began to rattle through the streets of Santjoemeh, to fetch the landowners, officials, and other distinguished guests, who lived in the country round about. On the stroke of ten the élite of the Residence had assembled in the vast inner-gallery of Lim Yang Bing's mansion. The gentlemen were all in full-dress, in uniform, or in black evening dress; the ladies wore ball toilettes; and at the entrance a number of Chinese boys were stationed to hand to each of their fair guests a bouquet of lovely pink roses. As one by one the principal guests drove up, crackers were let off, varying in number according to the social position of the individual who presented himself. If two or more happened to enter together, bunches of crackers were exploded in exact proportion to the number of visitors; and sometimes these fireworks exploded with a din that was almost deafening. At length Mr. van Gulpendam and his fair spouse made their appearance. They were received and escorted into the house by Chinese officers with the most punctilious ceremony. At his entrance, two copper serpents were exploded, and there were flatterers among the company who declared to Laurentia and to Lim Yang Bing, that, compared to the din these terrible serpents made, an eruption of Krakatoea was but child's play. The object of this infernal noise was two-fold. It was useful on the one hand to frighten away the evil spirits who might be lurking about the premises, and, on the other, it served as an expression of joy and as an evidence of cordial welcome to the visitors. As soon as the Resident had arrived, a long line of the intimate friends and acquaintances of the bridegroom, accompanied by the inevitable band and by the barefeet who had officiated on the previous evening, started off to fetch the bride from the house of her parents. Meanwhile, the major and the captain of the Chinese did the honours of the feast, while the lieutenants of that nation acted as masters of the ceremonies. Nothing could be more courteous than the manner in which these gentlemen acquitted themselves of their onerous duties. They attended to every want, they offered refreshments; and soon the popping of champagne corks indoors began to mingle with the incessant banging of the fireworks without; and generous wine, iced in huge silver bowls, was foaming and sparkling in the crystal glasses. For the ladies, there was an ample supply of hippocras, Golden water, Chartreuse and other liqueurs. Lim Yang Bing had offered his arm to fair Laurentia, and the pair walked leisurely up and down that stately saloon, which, under ordinary circumstances, might be called magnificent, but had now been specially decorated with the utmost skill and taste. The woodwork, the pillars, the beams and architraves of the apartment were all curiously carved and heavily gilt, and represented either hideous dragon-forms, or else scenes of domestic life in China. The walls were tinted a delicate rose-colour, and the floor, of pure Carrara marble, was covered with matting woven of the finest split rottan. At the end of this splendid saloon stood the altar of Tao Peng Kong gorgeously decorated, while wide strips of red silk, bearing black Chinese letters, hung on either side of the sanctuary. "Tell me, babah," asked the Resident's wife, "what may be the meaning of that scribble on those red rags?" "They are proverbs, njonja, taken from Kong Foe Hi," gallantly replied the Chinaman. "Yes, but what do they mean?" "That one, njonja, signifies: 'May the five blessings abide in this house.'" "And the others?" "They are the names of the five blessings." "Ah indeed!" continued Laurentia, "and what are those blessings?" "A long life, peace and rest, love of virtue, wealth and a happy end as the crown of life." "And what do the letters on those lanterns signify? I say, babah, they are very fine!" said Laurentia pointing upward at the lanterns, depending from the ceiling and from the beams. They were handsome hexagonal contrivances skilfully made, in the Chinese style, of wrought copper, and having large plates of pure polished crystal let into the sides. "Yes, yes, njonja," assented the babah with a complacent smile, "as you say they are very beautiful objects; but they cost a good deal of money. Now could you give a guess at the price of one of those copper lanterns?" "Not I, babah! how could I? let me see--they may be worth some fifty guilders." "Fifty guilders!" exclaimed the Chinaman with something like pity for her ignorance. "Oh, njonja, how could you have made such a bad shot. Why! I thought you prized the masterpieces of our Chinese art somewhat more highly than that!" "Well!" said the crafty woman, "and what, pray, may be the value of the things?" "Every lantern, njonja, you see hanging there, has cost me in Canton, three hundred and fifty guilders, without reckoning carriage and duty." "Oh, never mind that!" laughed Laurentia, "I daresay you managed to smuggle them across." "No, njonja, by Kong, no! I can show you the receipt from the custom-house. Will the njonja--" "No, babah, don't trouble yourself, I take your word for it. But what may they have cost you altogether?" "Close upon four hundred guilders a piece, njonja." "There are about thirty of them I should think," said Laurentia. "Only five and twenty, njonja." "Only! Only five and twenty!" said Mrs. van Gulpendam smiling. "It is pretty well, I should say--ten thousand guilders worth of lanterns!" Lim Yang Bing's face glowed with satisfaction. Like most parvenus he took an intense delight in letting every one know what he had paid for the precious objects he exhibited. "And look, njonja," he continued, "pray look at those tigers." With these words the opium-farmer pointed to a pair of red marble tigers. The figures were life-size and were represented crouching on two black marble pedestals at the foot of the two pillars one on each side of the altar. "Yes, babah, I admire them much--they are very fine indeed! They must have cost a pretty penny I should think?" "Each one of those figures represents five thousand guilders, njonja." "But babah!" cried Laurentia. "You see, njonja," said the babah sententiously, "when one gives a wedding party of this kind, one ought to do it well. Have you noticed that cock over the altar yonder?" "I see it, babah, I see it, how exquisitely it is carved." "It is cut out of a single block of peachwood," said the Chinaman, "that little thing alone has cost me twelve hundred guilders." "I say, babah! you must be a rich man," remarked Laurentia. "So, so," replied the Chinaman inordinately proud in his assumed modesty. "Do you happen to know what the wedding breakfast and this evening's banquet will cost me?" "No, I don't--do tell me, babah!" "Well, I will--they will stand me in very nearly fifteen thousand guilders." "Why, babah! you must be a very rich man," said Laurentia in a wheedling voice. "Oh, not very," whined the Chinaman. "But you don't know how much I give my son as my wedding gift." "You mean to Lim Ho, the bridegroom? No, I cannot guess--do tell me, babah?" "Two millions!" he whispered, fairly beside himself with delight. "Two million guilders!" exclaimed Laurentia, feigning the utmost surprise. "Why, babah, you must have a mint of money!" "No, njonja, not overmuch!" "And all of it out of your opium contract, eh?" The Chinaman looked at his fair companion, he gave her a very strange look; that word opium had completely sobered him. "And you have only had the contract for three years, I think, babah?" continued Laurentia. Lim Yang Bing nodded assent. In his heart he was beginning to curse his boasting and vapouring. "Have you seen the Resident lately?" asked Laurentia carelessly, but determined to strike while the iron was hot. "No, njonja," replied the Chinaman politely, but with none of his former gush. "I know he wishes to speak to you about the contract--it runs out I think with the current year?" "Yes, njonja." "And I think the monopoly for the next three years will be granted some time this month?" "Yes, njonja." "Do you intend to bid for it, babah?" "I think so, njonja." "Yes, njonja! no, njonja! I think so, njonja!" cried Laurentia mimicking the poor Chinaman most comically, "But, hush, someone is listening--What do you say is the meaning of those words on the lanterns, babah?" The last question she asked in her ordinary tone of voice, with that light-hearted giggle which was peculiar to the handsome woman. "Those letters mean: 'We pray for happiness and prosperity.'" "Thank you, and on that one yonder?" "The word on that one signifies: 'Lantern of Heaven?'" Thus talking they had walked away out of ear-shot. "Now," resumed Laurentia in a subdued voice, "now we can go on with our conversation: "You seem to be very lukewarm about that monopoly business, babah. I fear you will have a competitor at the auction." "Who is he?" asked Lim Yang Bing somewhat eagerly. "I have heard the name of Kwee Sioen Liem mentioned, the Solo man; you know!" "Indeed," muttered the Chinaman evidently much put out. "Yes, they say he is a rich man, he may do you some damage perhaps, babah," continued Mrs. van Gulpendam fixing her glittering eyes upon her companion. To this Lim Yang Bing made no reply, but he kept on with measured step walking by the side of the Resident's wife. "That bit of information does not seem to affect you very much?" continued Laurentia with a slight sneer. "Is that why the Resident wants to see me?" asked the Chinaman. "Yes, I think so, partly at least for that; and I believe he has some other business to transact with you. The Government, you know, expects the bids to go much higher this year." "Oh ho!" grinned the Chinaman. "You now pay twelve hundred thousand guilders for your monopoly, do you not? You will have to make it twenty, or else the Government will keep the whole business in its own hands." "Let them!" said Lim Yang Bing smiling disdainfully, "I should very much like to see that." But, after a moment's reflection, he went on: "It is quite impossible to offer more; as it is, we can only just avoid a loss." "And yet you can manage to give two millions to your son as a wedding present," remarked Laurentia, with a knowing laugh. "Aye," he continued, as if he had not heard the remark, "if the Government would grant more licenses in the Residence, in that case."-- "Is that all?" cried Laurentia carelessly. "How many do you hold now? But; that is no business of mine. How many more do you want?" "Ten at the very least," was the ready answer. "That's a good many, babah!--if ten additional licenses were granted, then I understand you to say that you are prepared to go up to two millions?" Lim Yang Bing could only nod assent; he had no time to express himself verbally, for at that moment the procession, which had gone to fetch the bride had returned, and was appearing at the entrance of the gallery. Its arrival was greeted with an explosion of fireworks so tremendous, and a cacophony from the Chinese band so hideous, that the din was absolutely deafening. If any evil spirits had been lurking about, that atrocious noise must certainly have made them take to their heels. No, not even the Shan Sao could stand that. In the midst of all this uproar, a comely group of Chinese maidens, very demure damsels, with finely cut features and modestly attired in picturesque gowns of yellow silk, with rose coloured sashes round their slim little waists, came forward to meet the bride and to bid her welcome. They offered her a garland of peach blossom, the emblem of maiden purity, and some nick-nacks amongst which was a cock, the emblem of the sungod, curiously carved out of peach-wood. Lim Ho also advanced to offer his hand to Ngow Ming Nio, and to lead her to a table well furnished with the customary viands. On that board appeared an endless array of dishes, the usual Chinese dishes, such as sharks' fins, soup made of stags' tendons and birds' nests, "kiemlo" and "bahmieh" (two fat soups) and other delicacies of no particular significance. But besides these the table contained other articles of food to which a distinctly emblematical meaning was attached. There was the pomegranate sliced in such a manner as to display to the greatest advantage its innumerable seedgrains, signifying the numerous offspring with which might the marriage be richly blessed! There were large heaps of the orange, fit emblem of the sweetness of life, which might the happy pair long enjoy! There were clusters of the oyster, typifying the distinct personality of each member and the unbroken unity of the entire family; and lastly some cuttings of the sugar cane, signifying the blessedness of the married state which, as that cane from knot to knot, from joint to joint, still increases in sweetness and in love. The betrothed couple now took their place at the table, Lim Ho at his bride's left hand, the place of honour in China. Before them were set two mighty goblets of pure gold. Both the beakers were filled with wine to the brim, and were connected with one another by a thread of scarlet silk. Then the bride and bridegroom simultaneously drained half the contents of the cups, after which they exchanged goblets, taking care however, that the scarlet thread remained unbroken. This time the cups were drained. "Ouff!" cried van Beneden, who was present with his friends, "it is enough to take one's breath away! Each of those things must hold at least a bottle and a half of wine I bet! For Lim Ho it is nothing; but for that poor little thing!" "Aye, and I bet, you wouldn't mind hob-nobbing with pretty Ngow Ming Nio," replied Grenits. "Do hold your tongue!" said Grashuis as he glanced at a group of Chinamen who stood near, and who looked anything but pleased at the unseemly burst of merriment which at so solemn a moment, had greeted Grenits' words. "Hush! Hush!" was the cry on all sides. Resident van Gulpendam glared round indignantly, and Laurentia looked black as thunder at the interruption in the midst of the drinking ceremony. Van Rheijn would have crept underground to avoid those terrible eyes. When the couple had thus copiously pledged one another, the bridegroom took the left hand of the bride. He raised it to the level of her breast, and in that attitude, the pair gravely saluted one another. "I say," whispered Grenits, "I wish that dear little pet would give me such a bow." "I daresay," remarked August van Beneden; "a dear little pet with two millions of money." "Hush, hush!" was again the cry. "Pooh!" cried Grenits, "millions squeezed out of the opium trade!" The young lawyer hung his head in confusion. "You are right," said he. "No! from such a source I would not take a single farthing!" "Hush, hush!" Van Gulpendam's eyes flashed with indignation. The next rite was a very curious one indeed. Two dishes were placed before the betrothed. They contained a mixture of red and white pellets, the size of an ordinary pea. Grenits turned to one of the Chinamen who stood close beside him in the crowd, and asked what might be the meaning of this ceremony. "Are they medicine?" he asked. "Yes, sir," replied the Chinaman. "The red balls represent the Jang or male, the white represent the Jin or female principle in nature." "Hush, hush!" resounded again on all sides. Lim Ho and the bride now, each in a golden spoon, took up a red and a white ball, swallowed them and once again bowed deeply to one another. Then the dishes were interchanged, just as the cups had been before, the ceremony was repeated and with that act, the marriage was complete. They were now man and wife inseparably joined together. Ngow Ming Nio and Lim Ho, the one set of millions was joined to the other. During all these festive rites, did Lim Ho bestow even one passing thought upon his victim, baboe Dalima? We doubt it. The nuptial ceremonies having been thus performed, the young wife took up in the spoon two of the little balls and gracefully presented them to the lips of her husband, and, with a winning smile, invited him to eat. By this rite the newly married woman bound herself to bear all the cares and anxieties of the domestic arrangements in the future household. While this ceremony was going on, one of the oldest members of the family audibly recited a few words in the Chinese tongue. "What is he saying?" asked Grenits, turning to his friendly neighbour. "O toean," replied the latter, "it is a quotation from the Sji-king, the book of songs which was printed long, very long ago." (It is said to have been printed in the eleventh century B.C.) "But what is the meaning of the quotation?" "It has a very pretty meaning--something like this: 'The peach tree is young and fair, its blossoms are pure and bright--this young woman is going to her future home and will be an excellent manager of her domestic affairs.'" "Very pretty indeed!" laughed Grenits. When the young wife had thus, typically, served her husband with food, both made another low obeisance, and this concluded the ceremony. The last bow was the signal for another terrific outburst of noise. The small cannon thundered, salvos of innumerable mertjons were fired off, the band of the Santjoemeh militia, which had appeared but lately on the scene, played up with all its might, the Chinese orchestra shrieked forth most dismal wails, and that roaring, that crackling, that drumming, that tooting, that sawing and scraping produced a din so indescribably stunning and so hideous that an ear-drum of bull's hide could hardly have endured the noise. In the midst of this tumult the newly married couple took up their position in front of the altar of Tao' Peh Kong. First, they each kindled a little stick of sandal wood and fragrant incense which, while burning, they stuck into a massive golden bowl half filled with scented ashes. Thus having paid their homage to the household god, they turned to receive the congratulations of the company. This was not a national custom at all, for in China, when no white men are present, the wedded pair at once retire to their apartment. It was, in fact, a concession made to Western usage, and the Chinamen who were present scrupulously avoided taking any part in it. The majority of them left, to show their zeal, no doubt, by letting off some more fireworks and completing the rout of the evil spirits. Resident van Gulpendam, taking his wife's arm, at once headed the procession of Europeans all eager to fall down before those millions thus auspiciously coupled together. But for these millions, however lovely might have been the bride, and though in the little world around him Lim Ho might have been voted a very good sort of fellow, not a single soul would have so much as dreamed of taking part in this chorus of hollow compliment. The scandal about Dalima was of much too recent date. But now that the two millions on the one side had joined the two millions on the other--now that Lim Ho, the son of Lim Yang Bing, the all-powerful opium farmer, was the happy man, now the entire European population was ready to crowd around that highly-favoured couple and press upon them their heartfelt and sincere congratulations. Not content with this, Mr. van Gulpendam considered it his duty, after having shaken hands, to add a few words of affectionate advice. Very fortunate indeed it was that neither husband nor wife understood the Dutch language and thus were spared the infliction of the nautical terms with which the worthy resident so richly interlarded his discourse, but which he found utterly untranslatable into Malay. It was a good thing also for the patience of the bystanders, that Laurentia stood by the side of her dear spouse and exhorted him to be brief by digging the point of her elbow pretty sharply into his side. At length the twaddle of the chief functionary came to an end, and now ensued a scene of handshaking, of cringing and fawning, and of general cant on both sides, which would have filled any honest heart with the deepest disgust. But neither Lim Yang Bing nor Lim Ho failed to notice that neither Theodoor Grenits, nor August van Beneden, nor Leendert Grashuis, nor Edward van Rheijn had joined this troop of sycophants. They had taken advantage of the crowd and confusion to leave the house. Charles van Nerekool had flatly refused to go at all. He could not overcome the aversion with which Lim Ho had inspired him; but when he heard a report of the proceedings, he resolved that, should another such opportunity occur, though the festivities might be held on a much smaller scale, he would try and witness so extraordinary a spectacle. It was well perhaps for our young friends that they left when they did; for presently the scene became rather uproarious. No sooner were the greetings exchanged and the congratulations ended, than the champagne corks began to pop with an energy and frequency which seemed to rival the bangs of the mertjons outside. Presently the whole company, Chinamen and Europeans, stood up, holding aloft their glasses full of sparkling wine, and deafening cheers were raised, while the Chinese "trauwkoeis" and the clattering cymbals screeched and clashed, and the militia trumpets brayed, and the serpents and mertjons banged with a noise as if a town was being bombarded. In the midst of this unearthly din the bridal pair disappeared; anxious, probably, to save their ear-drums. In the evening, the formal banquet took place, to which eighty guests had been invited. The menu of the feast had been carefully prepared by a French mâitre d'hôtel, and was excellent; although next day the wags of Santjoemeh would have it that dishes decidedly peculiar to the Celestial empire had graced the board, such as "Potage Kiemlo à la Tartare," "Potage printanier à l'ail," "Croquettes aux oreilles de rats," "Bouchées d'ailerons de requins," "Consommées de tripang," &c. &c. After dinner, President van Gulpendam rose to propose the toast of the evening; and to drink the health of the newly married couple. He did so, if the reports are to be believed, in a speech of extraordinary brilliancy. It fell to his lot also, afterwards, to propose the health of the Chinese officers, and, in doing so, he expressed a hope that the Netherlands might always find in her Chinese subjects as faithful and useful members of the community as they had hitherto proved themselves to be. He laid very marked stress upon the word "useful," and the close of his speech was greeted with thundering applause. Lim Yang Bing replied to this toast, and at the conclusion of his remarks he proposed the health of Mr. and Mrs. van Gulpendam. He heartily congratulated Santjoemeh on the possession of such excellent rulers, and for the good of its inhabitants in general, and of the Chinese community in particular, he expressed the hope that they might long see that noble pair at the head of the Residence. It was well that the roof of the mansion was a pretty strong one and that the foundations of its walls and pillars were firm and deep, or else some deplorable calamity must have occurred; for the deafening cheers of the company burst forth with the force of a hurricane; the soil literally shook under the feet of the assembled guests at the salvoes of mertjons and of small ordnance without, while the air within was alive with the popping of corks, which flew from the necks of the bottles with the regularity of well sustained file-fire. So unbounded was the enthusiasm with which the eloquent words of the worthy opium farmer were received. After the banquet came the ball, which was attended by almost the whole of Santjoemeh. Towards midnight, there was a display of Chinese fireworks in the grounds, and our pig-tailed brethren, on that occasion, proved how immeasurably superior is their skill in pyrotechny compared to anything European artists can aspire to in that line. Then dancing was resumed with fresh vigour, and the last couples did not leave the ball-room until the break of day. "That was a glorious, a most sumptuous feast, babah," said Resident van Gulpendam a few days later to his friend Lim Yang Bing. "My eyes! didn't you make the galley smoke!" "Yes, kandjeng toean," replied the opium farmer, with a smile of intensely gratified vanity. "Yes; but it has cost me a pretty little sum of money, why, in champagne alone, I have spent more than two thousand guilders, and quite another twelve hundred in Rhenish wine. The fireworks I had direct from Canton, and they have cost me three thousand at the very least." As he dwelt upon these details, the man was in the seventh heaven of delight. CHAPTER XXXVII. DISGRACEFUL OPPOSITION. TWO OPIUM COMPANIES BY THE EARS. Nearly the whole of Santjoemeh had been keeping festival. It was, indeed, no everyday occurrence for the son of the rich opium farmer of the district to marry the daughter of an equally wealthy disciple of Mercury. At the union of so many millions the Dutch public could not but evince the liveliest interest--and it had done so. We said: nearly the whole of Santjoemeh; for there were some who had not thought it incumbent upon them to grace the banquet and the ball with their presence. Van Beneden, Grashuis, van Rheijn, and Grenits, had allowed their ethnological curiosity to prevail so far as to induce them to go and witness the nuptial ceremony; but nothing could persuade them to attend the subsequent festivities. They had, on the contrary, determined, while the European population was crowding within Lim Yang Bing's stately mansion in the Gang Pinggir, and the natives were swarming all around it, to pass a particularly quiet evening together at the house of their friend van Nerekool. When they entered they found the young judge still seated at his study bending over his work by the light of a reading-lamp. "Hallo!" cried one, "still at it?" "Are the courts so very busy just now?" asked another. "By Jove!" exclaimed a third, "that's what I call zeal for the service!" "Ornithologically speaking," laughed van Beneden, "our friend Charles should be classed with the rara avis. Come, come, old fellow, this is no time for working! All Santjoemeh is astir--just hear what an infernal row is going on yonder." "Yes," remarked Theodoor Grenits, with a scornful laugh, "they are making noise enough over it." "My dear friends," replied van Nerekool, "the greater part of the day I have been very busy indeed; for as Leendert just now observed with more truth than he himself was aware, at the present moment we have a great deal of work to get through in the courts; but yet, when you came in, I was occupied in a very different manner." "Would it be indiscreet to ask what made our host bend his head so anxiously over his desk?" asked Theodoor. "Not at all, I was reading a letter I have just received from William; that is what made me lay aside my pen." "From William Verstork?" "How is he?" "Is he well?" "How is he getting on at Atjeh?" These questions crossed one another, and were uttered, as it were, in a breath; for the five young men were warmly attached to the worthy controller. "Yes," replied van Nerekool, "I am glad to tell you that Verstork is in perfect health, and that he is getting on uncommonly well in the military world yonder." "Well, that's a blessing," remarked van Rheijn, who never liked soldiers, "I am glad to hear it--I don't at all want to change places with him." "And what is his letter about, Charles?" asked van Beneden. "His letter is a very long one," replied van Nerekool, "much too long to read to you this evening. The greater part of it, moreover, is devoted to purely private matters; and contains particulars concerning the parents of Anna van Gulpendam, which I do not think I have a right to communicate to you. He tries to cure me of my love for her, and I have no doubt that his endeavour is exceedingly well meant; but yet the contents of his letter have made me very melancholy, as they make the chasm between us appear deeper and more impassible than it seemed before. "Where can she be?" he continued after an instant's pause--"If I only knew that then all would not be lost!" The four friends looked at one another sadly--that letter had evidently touched a string which vibrated painfully in van Nerekool's heart. "Come, Charles," said Grashuis, trying to rouse his friend, "you must not give way to that melancholy mood. You must try and accept the inevitable. Moreover, who can tell what the future may bring!" "But she is gone!" cried Van Nerekool hopelessly, "she has disappeared without leaving a trace." A strange smile passed over Edward van Rheijn's lips; but he made no direct remark. At length he said: "Baboe Dalima also seems to have mysteriously disappeared." Van Nerekool made an impatient gesture as one who would say: 'What is that to me?' "I happened lately to be at Kaligaweh," continued van Rheijn, "and I chanced to meet old Setrosmito there. He tells me that Dalima started off some time ago for Karang Anjer." "For Karang Anjer!" exclaimed van Nerekool, "and what--?" "But from that time to this her family have had no tidings from her," continued van Rheijn. "Have they heard nothing?" asked Charles. "Not a single word--indeed her parents do not know whether she is alive or dead." Van Nerekool's head sunk down despondingly on his breast. "One faint gleam of hope," he murmured, "and then dark night again!" For a while no one spoke. At length van Beneden, who wished to lead his friend's thoughts into a different channel, broke the silence: "Does Verstork write upon no other subject than this?" "Oh, yes," replied Charles, who was gradually regaining his composure. "Let us go into the inner room and I will read you the most interesting portion of his letter. This is not at all the place for a comfortable chat." Thereupon they left the study, which, with its folios and bulky law-books, did not indeed present a very sociable or cosy appearance. "Sabieio, chairs and cigars for the gentlemen!" cried van Nerekool. When all were seated and the fragrant Manillas were lighted, he continued: "Gentlemen, what do you say to a glass of beer?" No very determined opposition being offered to this hospitable proposal, van Nerekool again called to his servant, "Sabieio, bring us some iced beer." Thus all having quenched their thirst in the pleasant and cooling beverage: "Now then gentlemen," said Charles, "I will give you the most important parts of William's letter," and he began to read as follows: "'Do you recollect that when we sat down to dinner together after our day's hunting in the Djoerang Pringapoes, I told you of a certain recipe for pills to counteract opium, and how that I also told you what success I had already had with this medicine? Grenits, at the time, was not at all inclined to look favourably upon that communication, and took a very gloomy view of the prospect which lay before me. The words he used on that occasion have been continually ringing in my ears; and to this day I remember them as clearly as when they were spoken, he said: "Keep that prescription strictly to yourself, and don't say a word about it to anybody. The Colonial Secretary, who has but one object in view, and that is to raise the opium revenue as much as possible, might look upon your remedy as an attack made upon the golden calf; and missionaries have before this been impeded in their Gospel work, and men have been expelled from the colonies, and official functionaries have been suspended or pensioned off for the commission of much more venial offences than bringing such pills as yours to the opium smokers." Now, Charles, you know that although with an eye to the future of the members of my family, who, to some extent, depend upon me for support, I was, for a few moments, depressed at my friend's gloomy prognostic; yet I soon rallied, and, after a little reflection, began to look upon Grenits' words as the outcome of a passing fit of melancholy induced by our conversation, which had almost exclusively run on opium horrors and opium scandals. Indeed, Grenits himself could not have intended to paint the future in colours as dark as his words seemed to imply; for you remember that when I laughed and said: "Oh, it is not quite so bad as that, I hope," he replied with a smile, "Perhaps not; but your pills will not earn you the Netherlands' Lion." "'Ah, no, Charles! I never aimed at any such distinction. The little good I have been able to do I have done simply for its own sake and without the least expectation of any recompense. Such ambition I have always most willingly left to others; for I know full well that seldom real merit, sometimes the directly opposite, but always a certain amount of pliability and want of back-bone, is rewarded by these outward tokens of official approbation. And the mere thought that I might so much as be suspected of belonging to those invertebrates would suffice to paralyse every effort on my part. The shaft which Theodoor thus shot at random missed its mark; yet neither he nor I could, at that time, suspect how much sarcasm lay hidden in his last words or how very much to the point had been his foregoing counsels. Now pay good heed to what I am about to tell you. "'I had not been here very long, before I received a document from the Chief Secretary's office at Batavia. That, in itself, was no very uncommon occurrence. I have frequently had communications from that quarter when information was required on certain civil questions, such as duties and other things of that kind, about which they did not wish to trouble the Military Governor. But yet, it seemed rather strange to me that, on this occasion, I did not receive the document through the Chief of the Military Department. It was a written paper, yet not a despatch. It looked more like a circular although these are generally either printed or lithographed. Now listen to what it contained: "An attempt has been discovered at Batavia to import certain pills consisting of or mixed with opium, under the pretence that they are medicinal. The Indian Government has come to the conclusion that the pills in question must be considered as a preparation of opium, and it, therefore, forbids the importation of this so-called medicine except through its own agents, and the sale thereof excepting by the regularly licensed opium farmers and such apothecaries and chemists as are specially exempt from the provisions of the Opium Act. You are hereby requested strictly to enforce the Government's decision on this subject." "'This precious document bore the Home Secretary's signature. "'Here at Oleh-leh I had made attempts with the pills in question to cure the Chinese opium smokers of their fatal passion, and my efforts in their behalf had met with marked success. I had further given a couple of hundred of them to the officers of the garrison for distribution among such of their men as might need them. These gentlemen also gave me the most glowing account of the success of the medicine. The trophy of bedoedans in my study was enriched by half-a-dozen pipes; and I must confess, Charles, that as often as my eye happened to fall on those instruments of moral ruin, which are hanging there harmless on my wall as the visible tokens of victories obtained, I could not repress a feeling of self-satisfaction. Was I now to desist? Was I forbidden any longer to attempt the rescue of the infatuated wretches around me? I could not realise it--I could not believe it. Surely the Government would not refuse to hold out a helping hand to the myriads of wretched victims of opium which swarm all about India! There must be a mistake somewhere. The Government must have been misinformed and all that was needed was for somebody to open its eyes to the truth. "'To put these pills into the hands of the opium farmer for distribution would be reducing the whole thing to the most utter absurdity and to ensure failure beforehand. "'I therefore sat down and drew up a carefully detailed statement in which I gave the result of my own experience, the evidence of the missionaries and the favourable opinions also of the officers mentioned above. I added to my document legally attested declarations of these gentlemen as to the salutary effects of the medicine. "'Finally, I ventured to suggest, that, in favour of these pills as a bona fide medicine, an exception might be made, and that, as prepared and sent out by the Missionary Society, they might be excluded from the regulations of the opium law. "'My dear Charles, what was I about? Oh, yes, as an honest man I had followed the dictates of my conscience; but it was too simple-minded on my part to hope that the Government might, in the highest interests of morality, be induced to forego even the smallest scrap of its profits. I was a greenhorn indeed to sit down and pen such a document at a time when money--money--money--is the only question with the Government and money-scraping seems to be our highest national virtue; while men resolutely close their eyes to the dirty gutters out of which it is raked together. "'Very soon after, indeed by the very next mail, I received a reply to my proposal. It ran thus: "It is not the intention of the Government to discuss the proposal contained in your letter of the --th. The pills in question must have lately found their way into other parts of the island as well as into Batavia. Ostensibly they are designed to wean the smokers from the excessive use of opium; but in reality they only serve to procure that indulgence at a much cheaper rate for those who, either from want of means or for other reasons, cannot procure the drug from the legitimate source. While you were occupying the post of controller in the district of Santjoemeh we had good reason to suspect that, in your official capacity, you were not disinclined to evade--we are willing to believe from the best motives--the Government regulations with regard to the sale of opium; and that you thus contributed to diminish the public revenue. Your last letter incontestably proves that you are pursuing the same practices now. On a public servant who entertains such views of his duty, the Government cannot look with much favour; and were it not that I am fully persuaded that you are actuated by the very best motives in pursuing your present line of conduct, and that your well-known family relations make me very loth to adopt decided measures, I would at once propose your dismissal as a man unfit for the public service. I have directed the Governor carefully to watch your proceedings and to report immediately to head-quarters the first failure of duty on your part that may come under his notice. I need hardly tell you that the State requires from its servants a very different conception of duty from that of lending a willing ear to every foolish sentiment of morbid philanthropy; and that, therefore, if you give any further cause for dissatisfaction you must not reckon upon any consideration whatever."'" "It is disgraceful!" exclaimed Grenits as soon as van Nerekool ceased reading. "A noble-hearted fellow like William Verstork to be so shamefully treated!" "Oh, that opium, that opium!" continued Grashuis no less indignantly than his friend, "it seems to taint the very life-blood of our nation. Has it then come to this that we are to be deprived of every means of stemming the national evil?" "Yes, it is indeed disgraceful!" chimed in van Beneden. "But, my friends," objected van Rheijn, "are you not rather one-sided in your view of the matter and rather too hasty in forming an opinion? May there not be some truth in what the Government alleges and might not these pills, under the pretence of being a cure, only be another means for extending the illicit traffic in opium?" "Oh, Edward!" exclaimed van Nerekool, "how can you bring yourself to suspect William Verstork of illicit traffic?" "And the Netherland's Missionary Society?" added Grashuis. "Pardon me, my friends," cried van Rheijn as he passionately jumped up from his chair. "You misunderstand me entirely, I never meant to suggest anything of the kind. I am just as much convinced as any of you can be that both William Verstork and our missionaries are acting in this matter with the most perfect good faith and honour. I was not for an instant thinking of them when I spoke. But might not men without principle and without honour, under cover of these wholesome pills, introduce others made of pure opium and thus defraud the revenue?" "Well," said Grenits doubtfully, "such a thing might perhaps come to pass." "And is it not then right and proper," continued van Rheijn, "that the Government should guard against possible fraud? Under cover of these pills the opium plague might conceivably attain to altogether extravagant dimensions." "Without the treasury being one penny the better for it," hastily interposed Grashuis. "So long as the revenue is kept up they are not so over squeamish in Government circles about the abuse of opium. Quite the contrary." "And then Verstork's proposal to admit only the pills sent out by the Missionary Society was fair enough," added Grenits. "It would not be very difficult to protect and encourage the use of the medicine and at the same time guard against adulteration or fraud. But no," he continued, "that is evidently not what the Government wants. Not one poor scruple must be taken from the dose of poison which is, in a measure, forced upon the people, and every effort to mitigate the evil must, in spite of the twaddle and cant at the Hague, be sternly repressed. My friends, you all recollect our discussions on that subject. In the face of what we have heard and seen can anyone deny or doubt that opium lies as a curse upon our poor Indian possessions?" For a few moments the young men sat silently gazing on the floor before them. Alas no! that plain fact could not be denied--all were equally convinced of its truth. "Yes, that opium!" sighed van Beneden. "Friends, let us change our ground without, however, quitting our subject. It would be a pity to do so just now--just now that we five men are assembled here together in Santjoemeh to protest against opium, while, at the same moment, yonder, the trumpets are braying and the cannon is roaring in homage to the millions which that same opium has wrung from the people. At the present moment the pig-tailed children of the Celestial empire are gathered together in perfect harmony and concord around their Tao Peh Kong; but such is not always the case. Circumstances sometimes arise which kindle the bitterest animosities between these Chinese brethren. As I was looking through a pile of papers, not very long ago, I happened to come upon a pretty quarrel which greatly interested me and gave me a deep insight, from another point of view, into the vicious circle in which the question of opium farming revolves. We are now sitting here so cosily and quietly together that I should like to take advantage of this favourable opportunity to tell you the story. I must only beg of you that you will pay no heed either to the names, the places or the dates I may use. I have no right to incriminate the actors in my tale, some of whom are still living. On the other hand, my story would lack interest and vividness were I to speak of N or P and introduce places as X or Y. I shall therefore take the liberty of introducing fictitious names. I beg you will bear that in mind. "In the year--let us put it at ten years ago--there existed in the capital of one of Java's Residences--supposing we say in Santjoemeh--a mighty opium company, to which we will give the name of Hok Bie. This company Hok Bie had cast a covetous eye upon the monopoly in a district adjoining to Santjoemeh, which we will call Bengawan. But this same district had also attracted the attention of a young Chinaman called Tio Siong Mo. This young man was very wealthy, although he had not as many millions at command as had the company Hok Bie. "It would lead me too far afield," continued van Beneden, "were I to describe to you all the intrigues and plots which were set on foot, all the bribery and corruption which took place on both sides, to get possession of the coveted prize. Suffice it to say that the antagonists exerted their utmost powers; for Bengawan was a prize indeed. From the opium farmers' point of view it was the fattest district in all Java--and so it is now, unless I am much mistaken, and at present counts the greatest number of opium dens--though I hardly need add, as a corollary, that it contains the most wretched and poverty-stricken population in the island. "At first it seemed as if the company Hok Bie would carry all before it; for it managed to cast serious doubts upon the solvency and credit of its adversary's sureties, and if they could be discredited, Tio Siong Mo would be excluded from the contest altogether. "Tio Siong Mo, however, held firm, he fought the bribers with their own weapons; and he found means, somehow or other, to re-establish the credit of his sureties. How? You will perhaps be able to give a shrewd guess at that." "Oh, yes, yes, go on!" cried Grenits, "that is as clear as the sun at noonday." "Well then, that dodge having failed, the company Hok Bie began to look round for other means of attack. First it endeavoured to bribe Tio Siong Mo's sureties and to induce them to declare themselves bankrupts; but that did not succeed. Next it made an offer to its competitor of half a million of guilders in cash if he would retire from the contest. Half a million! It was a liberal bid, there was no denying that. But no! Tio Siong Mo did not waver a single instant, he flatly refused the tempting offer; for the monopoly of Bengawan was worth a much larger sum of money than that. "On the day of the sale five competitors came forward; but three of these very soon dropped out of the bidding, and the representative of the company Hok Bie and Tio Siong Mo were left to fight out the matter between them. "I will not weary you by describing the contest, which was carried on at one time with what seemed the wildest recklessness and at another with the most cunning circumspection. There were some very exciting passages in the battle. At length Hok Bie bid eighty thousand guilders." "Eighty thousand?" exclaimed van Rheijn. "Why, that is not a very large sum." "A month, a month, my dear fellow!" said van Beneden, correcting him. "Well, a month, so be it," resumed van Rheijn; "that comes to only nine hundred and sixty thousand guilders a year. Here in Santjoemeh--!" "For those days it was an exorbitant price," continued van Beneden, "I know all about it, and I can assure you it was an extravagantly high price." "Well, and what happened then?" asked van Nerekool. "The representative of Hok Bie had called out eighty thousand, thinking by that bid to disconcert and crush his opponent, for he had made a tremendous leap from sixty to eighty." "The deuce!" cried van Rheijn, "and then?" "Tio Siong Mo lost not an instant; but with the utmost coolness he said: 'Another thousand.' "He spoke these words in a tone of voice which seemed to convey that he simply intended to add a thousand to whatever bid the other party might make. "Hok Bie's representative looked blue; that last bold jump of his had brought him to the end of his tether--he was not empowered to go further. The resident who presided encouraged the competitors to go on. But no one spoke. "At length was heard the 'third time,' accompanied by the fall of the hammer, and Tio Siong Mo had secured the monopoly. It was a large sum to pay merely for the contract; but the young Chinaman laughed in his sleeve. He knew well enough that in the dessa Bengawan he could screw double that amount out of it. But, as you will see, he reckoned without his host. The company Hok Bie was furious at having thus been worsted, and resolved to have its revenge. At the very first meeting of the directors four hundred thousand guilders were voted, not only to ensure Tio Siong Mo's fall, but even to secure him a comfortable little nook in the State prison. Two of the oldest members of the board undertook the job." "By Jove!" cried Grenits, who was thoroughly interested in the story. As a merchant, such a piece of business was quite in his line, and he pricked his ears as a young race-horse, impatient for the start, dilates his quivering nostrils. "By Jove, I am anxious to hear how they managed that." "They managed it very simply, indeed," continued van Beneden, "though it cost them a mint of money. But when it is a question of gratifying his passions, or of pampering his vanity your Chinaman is by no means stingy." "No," said Grenits, "nor yet when it comes to throwing out a sprat to catch a mackerel." "Agreed," said van Beneden; "but now let me go on, or else we shall not get to the end of the story to-night." "Just so," assented Edward van Rheijn. "Make what haste you can; for I have also my little opium tale to tell--and something else besides that." "Very good! August, drive ahead!" said Grenits. "There were at that time a couple of opium districts which were contiguous to Bengawan, and which lay along the Java sea. Upon these the company Hok Bie at once flung itself, the monopoly not having as yet been granted for them." "Yes, of course," remarked van Rheijn, "having lost the rich district of Bengawan, a couple of rather more meagre ones would form an agreeable compensation." "Upon these," continued van Beneden, not heeding his friend's interruption, "the company Hok Bie greedily flung itself, and for the opium privilege of those two districts, it paid the sum of 40,000 guilders a month; though it was clear as day that at such a price it must incur a heavy loss." "What then could it have been about to offer the money?" asked van Nerekool. "The company's object was to get a large strip of the Java sea under its control." "Oho!" exclaimed Grenits and van Rheijn in a breath--A light was beginning to dawn upon them. "Do you fellows now begin to understand?" asked August with a broad smile. "That's a good job. "You must know that the Residence Bengawan is bounded on the north by these two districts. The consequences of this acquisition soon began to show themselves. The coast of the Java sea lay open to the company Hok Bie, and smugglers soon began to ply diligently between that coast and Singapore. The contraband very soon found its way through the two districts to the interior, so that presently Bengawan was literally flooded with smuggled opium. To such an extent was this contraband trade carried on, that the drug was readily sold for about one half-penny, a price at which the farmer could not possibly afford to sell it. "Then Tio Siong Mo attempted to brazen it out. He began by punctually meeting his obligations, and every month paid the contract money into the treasury. He did this, poor fellow, in the hope that the European authorities would assist him and protect him against this illicit trade which was robbing the revenue as well as himself. And what were the effects of all his representations to the Government--'Schwamm darüber'--Even where he did obtain some kind of co-operation from some chief official, he got no support whatever from the subordinates. They all, to a single man, sided with the much more powerful company Hok Bie, which never left any service unrewarded. "These punctual payments were all very well so long as Tio Siong Mo could find the money. But, however well lined his chest might be, it was with him--as it always must be where much is going out and little or nothing coming in--a mere question of time. "In the latter half of the second year of the contract, Tio Siong Mo was declared a bankrupt. He could not possibly cover his expenses, and by that time had fallen in arrears and owed a colossal sum to the treasury, a debt of which little or nothing was ever recovered, because, at the critical moment, his sureties had absconded to Singapore. So cleverly did these worthies dispose of their property, that they left nothing but debts behind them. "'The Dutch Government wields a sword without mercy,' said the financial secretary; and that same Government which, by taking proper measures in its own interest as well as in the interest of their farmer, might have put a stop to smuggling on anything like a large scale, but had neglected to do so--that same Government now clapped poor Tio Siong Mo into prison. There he lingered for several years, and quite lately he has been released, it being evident that nothing was to be got out of him. We sometimes say, with regard to horses, that they who earn the corn do not always get it; and this episode I think shows that they who are punished are not always the real culprits." "But what ultimately became of the Bengawan contract after the farmer's bankruptcy?" asked van Rheijn, curiously. "Of course," resumed van Beneden, "the district had to be put up again after Tio Siong Mo's failure. Who were the new farmers the papers do not tell me; but, from a whining lamentation uttered by the financial secretary, in which he exhorts the judges to the utmost rigour against the luckless bankrupt, it appears that the whole thing only produced forty-one thousand guilders. Thus the State, in addition to the large sum owing by Tio Siong Mo, lost a clear sum of forty thousand guilders a month." "That's the style!" exclaimed Grenits, "I wish such a thing as that would happen regularly, year by year, in all the districts, then some means would speedily be found to put an end to the opium traffic altogether." "And what became of the two coast districts, which the company Hok Bie had taken?" asked van Rheijn, very anxious to get to the bottom of the story. "What could the company make of them? they could be worked only at a loss, and, as soon as the object it had in view was obtained, it made over the contract to some other company--no doubt at considerable loss. At least Hok Bie would have no more to do with them." "And the moral of the story is?" asked Leendert Grashuis. "Why, simply this," said Theodoor Grenits, "that from whatever point of view you look at the opium-farming system, you are sure to catch sight of something particularly loathsome and disgusting." "And that such a rotten system should form one of the principal sources of the Netherlands' colonial revenue!" "Yes," assented van Beneden. "In these latter days it has indeed been raised to that dignity by men in office, into whose hands the indifference of our Dutch nation has placed unlimited power." CHAPTER XXXVIII. FURTHER FACTS ABOUT OPIUM. BIRDS-NESTING AT KARANG BOLLONG. These were most unpalatable facts for our friends to listen to. But, however painful they might be, and however offensive to the ear of a patriotic Dutchman, yet they were facts which could neither be ignored nor explained away. Very gravely and very sadly the five young men sat slowly rocking themselves in their chairs and watching the wreaths of blue smoke as they curled upwards from their manillas. Thus they passed some time in silent thought, when suddenly, in the distance were heard fresh volleys of musketry, redoubled banging of mertjons, and this noise accompanied by loud bursts of cheering repeated again and again, which, arising within the banqueting hall, was taken up by the thousands of natives who stood without waiting for the display of fireworks. That crescendo in the festive din was occasioned no doubt by Lim Yang Bing's eloquent speech in honour of Resident van Gulpendam. "Sabieio, fill the glasses!" cried van Nerekool to his servant, making an effort to shake off the gloomy thoughts which oppressed him, and which not even van Beneden's story had been able to dissipate. For the next few minutes they all sat listening to the disturbance outside, and when at length the noise had died away, van Rheijn re-opened the conversation. "You told us just now, my dear August, that Tio Siong Mo had found no co-operation or support among the inferior class of officials; but that these, on the contrary, sided with the more powerful company Hok Bie. Now I take it for granted that you did not talk merely at random; but that you had some sufficient grounds for saying what you did. One thing, however, is not quite clear to me, and that is whether you meant that accusation to apply to the native opium-officials or to the Europeans. You will grant me, I suppose, that the accusation is a rather serious one." Van Beneden did not raise his eyes, he drew a deep breath. At length after an interval of a few seconds, he said: "Yes, you are perfectly right, the charge is undoubtedly a serious one. As a lawyer I am perfectly aware of that; and you were quite right also in presuming that I did not utter it without due consideration. The question you now ask me is this: 'To whom do you intend this grave censure to apply?' I might answer with perfect truth, that I apply it to native and European officials alike. But to be absolutely candid I ought to go further and confess that, when I spoke, I was aiming specially at the European officers." "August!" cried van Rheijn, evidently much moved at his friend's earnestness and sincerity. "May you not be taking too partial and unfair a view of the situation?" "My dear fellow," replied van Beneden, "just listen to what I am about to tell you, and then I will leave you to judge for yourself-- "Among the mass of documents relating to this Tio Siong Mo's business, I came upon some remarks made by a very highly placed official, a man perfectly competent to form a correct opinion; and who had, in fact, been consulted on this very occasion. His remarks run thus: "'The salaries paid to the officials who are employed in checking the trade in contraband opium are wholly insufficient; and in the discharge of their most arduous duties, these public servants receive no support at all. The consequence of this is, that hardly a single person who is properly qualified for the work will ever offer his services. In what manner, then, are those places filled? Why, in the simplest manner possible. Individuals are appointed quite at random and are then placed under the orders of some Resident or other. These poor creatures, who, as a general rule, have no very brilliant antecedents to boast of, and who know little or nothing of the opium trade, receive a salary of 150 guilders (£12 10s.) a month, and are stationed at such points as the smugglers are most likely to resort to. It follows, of course, from the nature of the case that these stations are far away from any inhabited spot, generally in the heart of some swamp or in the all but impenetrable jungle on the north coast of Java. In such localities there can be no question of a house; and some of these men have to hire a small bamboo hut at the rate of 25 or 30 guilders a month, or else they run up a kind of rough shanty at their own expense. They have no staff whatever--there being no money to provide one--and thus, on an emergency, they have to apply for help to the chiefs of the nearest dessas, and that is very much like going to the devil for confession. Moreover, the Residents compel these people to keep two horses, which animals they must purchase for themselves, and they have to pay 10 guilders a month at least for forage for each horse. If now we take into consideration deductions for widows' and orphans' fund, then these wretched creatures receive only about 102 guilders a month, out of which they must find house rent and servants' wages, leaving them, say 67 guilders to live upon, to find themselves in dress, and to keep their often numerous families. Now, the question is, how can such persons manage to live at all in even the most frugal manner? How do they manage to keep body and soul together? They have no other resource than to apply to the opium-farmer for assistance, and in him they always find a most obliging money-lender. The whole question, then, comes to this: Are not such officers forced by mere pressure of circumstances to squeeze as much out of their wretched billet as can be got out of it?' "And thus, you see, my dear Edward, that all these men either are, or very soon get to be, under the thumb of the opium-farmers, and the consequences of such a state of things are, you must grant, inevitable. By the side of the note I read to you just now, I found a list--it was a long list--of the names of such individuals as, either for neglect of duty or for having aided and abetted the smugglers, had been dismissed the service. There were others who were mere puppets in the farmers' hands, and who could not venture on the slightest remonstrance if the farmer himself was implicated in the smuggling trade. Then there was a third--alas! the list was a very short one--of officials who undertook to perform their duties conscientiously, and who, looking upon a smuggler as a smuggler, whether he happened to be an opium-farmer or not, were determined to put down the illegal traffic whoever might be engaged in it. I regret, however, to have to add that those names very quickly disappear from the scene. The Residents soon found fault with such men--they had no tact--no management--in fact, some ground of complaint was sure to be found. And then, of course, the Government does not like to see the farmers, so long as they pay their contract money regularly into the treasury, annoyed by opposition of any kind." "But," exclaimed Grenits, somewhat warmly, "what becomes, at that rate, of the assertion made over and over in Parliament by the Colonial Secretary, that the abuse of opium is in every possible way kept in check? As far as I can make out from your statement, the Government seems, indirectly of course, actually to protect the smuggling by the farmers, and these, equally of course, in order to dispose of their contraband, press the drug by all means, legal or illegal, upon the helpless population." "The sum and substance of all I have told you is simply this," said van Beneden. "No man who has the slightest respect for himself can or will undertake any office for the suppression of opium smuggling, and therefore a lower class of people must be employed, and thence, you see, it becomes possible for the tricks and dodges of such companies as Hok Bie to succeed." "By Jove!" cried van Nerekool, "that's another nice little glimpse into the charming situation which the system of opium-farming has created. Come! now we are about it, we had better exhaust the unsavoury subject as far as we can. Did you not say just now, van Rheijn, that you also had an opium tale to tell?" "Oh, yes," replied Edward, "and something else besides that." "Indeed!" said Grashuis; "go on then. I thought I was pretty well informed; but every moment I am making fresh discoveries." "Now, gentlemen," said van Nerekool, "are you all furnished with cigars? Van Rheijn, we are waiting to hear you." "I have had a letter from Murowski," began van Rheijn. "From Murowski?" cried one. "From our Pole?" "From our doctor?" "Yes, gentlemen, from our expert at the scientific opium-smoke. Now, as his letter contains very few, if any, secrets, and that moreover it is addressed to us in general, I need not follow our host's example; and I will read it to you in full." "But, my dear fellow," said Grenits, "it is getting late, nearly nine o'clock. Is there anything in that letter about butterflies?" "Oh, yes." "And about beetles and snakes?" "Oh yes, certainly." "Then, I say! heaven help us, those entomologists are so long-winded; they don't spare you a single claw, not an antenna, not a shard!" "Oh, you won't find it so bad as all that," laughed van Rheijn; "just listen." "'My dear friend, in your last letter you ask me how I pass the time at Gombong. At first, I must confess, it was tedious work and everything looked very black. You know, I was rather smitten with Agatha van Bemmelen, and I have reason to flatter myself that she used not to shut her little peepers very hard when she happened to meet me at Santjoemeh. So, when I first came here, my thoughts ran entirely on her; I detested my new place, and cursed the man who had played me the scurvy trick of having me transferred. Of entomology there was no question. Two or three times I went out and tried to get some specimens, but I failed woefully. Wherever I went, in whatever direction I took my walks, there was but one picture before my eyes--the image of my Agatha's sparkling eyes and my Agatha's rosy cheeks. "'So utterly lost was I in rapture that the rarest specimens in butterflies fluttered past my very nose without my so much as holding out my net. I gave the whole thing up in despair, and tossed all my apparatus into a corner. But, what to do with oneself at Gombong? The officers of the garrison were busy enough; but I had nothing--absolutely nothing--to occupy my time. The climate of Gombong is a wretched one--most miserably healthy, no chance of ever getting a patient here! Being a devout Catholic, I sent up a little prayer every now and then for a good epidemic, or at least some case worthy of keeping one's interest going--nothing of the kind!'" "Well now," cried Theodoor, "did you ever hear of such a fellow, praying for an epidemic! Such a chap as that ought to be put out of the colony altogether--he is fit only for the new lunatic asylum at Buitenzorg!" "Nonsense!" retorted van Rheijn, "does not every one pray for his daily bread? Does not our friend van Beneden here pray for a good lawsuit--and that is, perhaps, not much less serious a matter than an epidemic. But let me go on. "'Seeing that my prayers were not heard, I sought refuge in poetry;--perhaps I might say I prayed and wrote verses alternately. I celebrated my well-beloved in alexandrines, in iambics, in pentameters, in hexameters, in odes, in lyrics, in sonnets, in stanzas, in German, in Polish--'" "That must have sounded well!" interrupted Grashuis. "'--In Polish, in French, nay, even in Latin!'" "In Latin!" exclaimed Grenits, with a shout of laughter, "the fellow must have gone raving mad!" "Just fancy the poor child receiving an ode from her adorer entitled 'Solis occasus,'--and 'Virgini Agathæ pulcherrimæ Bemmelensi dedicatus'--I should like to have seen her little phiz," cried van Beneden. "Do stop all that nonsense," remonstrated van Rheijn, who nevertheless was laughing as heartily as the others, and when silence had been restored, he continued: "'And Heaven only knows how much paper I might have wasted had not suddenly the news reached me that my adored Agatha was engaged, and was, indeed, on the point of being married. Then I crumpled up all my poetical effusions, and that very evening made a nice little fire of them. They were of some use in that way in keeping off the mosquitoes and other such like vermin. I invited all the officers of the garrison to a jolly good champagne supper; and, after having passed a night in which I rivalled the Seven Sleepers of holy memory--I arose next morning a new man--perfectly cured!--'" "That Pole is a practical fellow," cried Grashuis. "I say, Charlie, you should take a leaf out of his book!" "'Thereupon I resumed my insect hunting, and then, for the first time, it dawned upon me that the hemiptera, the diptera, the hymenoptera, the lepidoptera, the coleoptera--'" "I say, I say!" cried Grenits, "might you not skip all these barbarous words. That a Pole like Murowski makes use of them is excusable perhaps--he knows no better; but that he should inflict them upon us!--it is unpardonable." "Oh, well!" replied van Rheijn, "I have almost done-- "'--The coleoptera, the crustaceans are really our best and truest friends, and that they would, after all, afford me the most wholesome recreation. I happened to be in luck's way. Patients there were none, and, to make assurance doubly sure, a medical officer, and therefore a colleague of mine, had arrived here in Gombong. He had obtained three months' leave, and, in this mild and singularly equable climate, he hoped to find a cure for an incipient liver-complaint. This gentleman was willing, he was indeed quite eager, to take my place in any unforeseen emergency, if it were only to break the monotony of his existence out here. I quickly availed myself of this favourable opportunity to ask our military chief for eight days' leave to go on a trip into the Karang Bollong mountains and give myself up to my passion for entomology. "'"By all means," said the kind-hearted captain, "by all means, you go and catch butterflies and snoutbeetles. Only see that in those wild mountain districts you don't come to grief; and, mind you, be back again in time." "'An hour after, I had shouldered my gun, slung on my game-bag; and, with the tin box for my collection strapped to my back, I was on the war-path, my servant following with the other necessaries. From Gombong I marched through the dessas Karang djah, Ringodono and Pringtoetoel, and there I was in the heart of the mountain country. That journey I did not make in a single day; but I took my time, and spent two days in covering the ground. "'I will not tire you with an account of my insect-hunt, that would, in fact, be casting pearls before swine.'" "Upon my word, that is a good one!" exclaimed Grenits, laughing. "Our Pole is exquisitely polite!" "Well," laughed van Rheijn, "he is paying you back in your own coin, you remember what you said about 'barbarous words' just now. But let me get on. "'But yet I must tell you that my trip was very successful. I have every reason to be satisfied; for among many other rare and valuable specimens, I secured a fine Ulysses and a splendid Priamos. But what will constitute the real glory of my collection is an Atlas, a truly magnificent creature, which, with outspread wings, covers an area of nearly a foot square. I will not however dwell on these matters. I know you take no interest in them. No, no, I have a subject to write upon which will prove much more attractive to yourself and to your friends. Our experiment in opium-smoking has been haunting me ever since I witnessed it; and I have by no means forgotten the conversation we held on that occasion. What I then heard and saw has opened my eyes and my ears, and has made me very attentive whenever the opium question is mentioned. And, I must say, that I have here been brought to the very spot where I am able to glean most interesting information about the use of that drug. In my wanderings through the Karang Bollong mountains, I have been brought into contact with the gathering of the far-famed birds' nests. Whether you gentlemen are acquainted with that source of the Dutch revenue, I know not; but in order to come to the subject I wish to lay before you, that is, the abuse of opium and the encouragement the Government gives to that abuse, I must give you a short account of this most interesting gathering of birds' nests. You must, for the present at least, take my word for the truth of every syllable I write--'" "The deuce we must!" cried Grenits, "he is rather exacting!" "I bet we shall have a lot of learned stuff inflicted upon us. The prigs which the German Universities turn out can be pedantic to the last degree." "No fear," replied van Rheijn, "for my part I must say that I have found in this letter, a great number of highly interesting particulars. But I must get on. "'The Karang Bollong mountain range is, as you are probably aware, a spur of the Goenoeng Djampong which again forms the connecting link between the Midangang mountains and the Goenoeng Batoer. The bulk of these Karang Bollong mountains consists of extensive chalkbeds which form the table-land known as Goenoeng Poleng; and, on the side of the sea, these chalk-beds are surrounded by a broad band of trachyte rock which rises perpendicularly out of the Indian Ocean. In this massive wall of trachyte the ocean, with its mighty breakers rolling in from the South Pole upon Java's coast, has washed numerous holes or cavities, some of which extend to a considerable distance underground. It is in the innermost recesses of these caves that men find the nests of a certain kind of swallow which the natives call manoek lawet, and to which the Zoologists give the name of hirundo esculenta.'" "Didn't I tell you so?" cried Grenits indignantly; "the Pole is beginning already to bring in his Latin names. Heaven only can tell what may be in store for us!" "And what about me, then?" remarked van Rheijn. "I have had to read the whole letter! You need not trouble yourself, that Latin will come all right enough. I go on: "'----give the name of hirundo esculenta. The nests consist of a slimy substance which is found in the stomach of the birds. These little swallows cover the spot in the rock they have selected for their nest with an extremely fine coating of this gelatinous stuff. As soon as this layer has dried and has had time to harden, they apply a second coat, which again must have time to dry before they can proceed with their building. And thus they go on gradually and layer by layer until the nest is complete. When it is finished it looks like a saucer of small diameter which has been broken in two with the line of fracture cemented to the wall of stone. Thus these little nests consist of a hardened gelatinous mass of a light yellow colour and which, when they are of superior quality, ought to be somewhat transparent.'" "And the Chinese eat such trash as that and like it?" cried Grashuis curling his lip in disgust. "Do let me go on," said van Rheijn. "'When soaked in water and properly cooked these nests are looked upon by the Chinese as the rarest delicacy. A cup of broth made of that gelatinous substance represents, in their estimation, the most delicious beverage that can gratify the human palate. They ascribe to this soup rare medicinal virtues and prize it as a never-failing aphrodisiac. In my opinion this latter is the only quality which gives value to the nests.'" "And this again is the sort of thing out of which the Dutch Government makes a revenue!" exclaimed Grenits. "It is a very lucky thing that the ingathering of these nests can only be carried out on a small scale, or else, no doubt, some means would be found to force this kind of food upon such Chinese as do not, at present, crave for it; just as the farmers do their utmost to drive the population into their infamous opium-dens." "'The gathering of these nests,'" continued van Rheijn still reading Murowski's letter, "'takes place three times a year. The first gathering begins in the latter part of April and is called "Oedoean kesongo." The second begins in the middle of August and is called "Oedoean telor," and the third, the "Oedoean kapat," takes place in December. Now that kind of birdsnesting, my friends, is an occupation which I very willingly leave to the Javanese who make it their business. To gain the entrance of one of those caves they must clamber down the perpendicular face of the rock along ladders. The ladder, for instance, which leads to the mouth of the Djoembling cave is only 660 feet long. My heart beat high with desire to make a trip to these subterranean vaults. But--when I laid myself flat down and got my head over the edge of the rock while a couple of Javanese were holding on to my legs--when I saw that rottang ladder swinging hither and thither in the breeze sometimes clinging to the wall and then again curving inward and for a while lost to the eye. When, at a giddy depth below, I saw the huge breakers come tumbling in and forming there at the foot of the rocks a savage scene, a wild and whirling chaos of spouting water, of dazzling foam and of blinding spray. When my ear caught the hoarse thunder of their charge while I felt the very stone under me quiver with the shock--then, I must confess a feeling of sickening horror came over me; I started back involuntarily, and nothing on earth could have induced me to plant my foot on the crazy ladder which, a few moments ago, I had made up my mind to descend. "'But how grand, how magnificent, how sublime was the spectacle! The towering waves which like a stately row of hills came moving along the intense azure blue of the Indian Ocean--that graceful curve of the billow as it neared the pumice reefs which lie at the base of the mass of trachyte--then the thundering fall of this mighty crest toppling over, as it were, into a sea of seething milk in which every drop, every foam-speck glittered in the rays of the tropical sun--that finely divided spray which hung over the watery mass and wrapped it as in a veil of transparent silver-gauze--all this, my friends, formed a spectacle which can never be effaced from my memory but will dwell there engraven as on tables of stone. At times, when a wave of unusual height came rolling in, the entrance of the caves would be completely swallowed up and hidden and the water driven into the interior would continue its perpetual work of excavation. Then, for a few moments it seemed as if the holes had disappeared. But presently, when the wave flowed back again, the water, impelled by the tremendous force of the compressed air within, would rush forth like a horizontal fountain five or six hundred feet in length, spouting and hissing and blowing with a roar which was perfectly appalling, and forming whirls and high-flowing eddies in the retreating wave. "'No, no, no, I durst not touch that swinging ladder; but I have nevertheless made up my mind to penetrate by some other means into the interior of those mysterious cavities. The natives here tell me that when the south-east trade-wind is far from the south-coast of Java, on very calm days a flat-bottomed boat may enter the Goewah Temon, which is the name of one of the grots. The loerah of the dessa Ajo has promised me to keep a canoe in readiness for me, if I will give him notice beforehand; and, on the first favourable opportunity I mean to make the attempt. Meanwhile, however, I have had to satisfy myself with a description of this birdsnesting which I soon hope to witness in person, and this is what one of the chiefs has told me concerning it. "'From the mouth of the caves the Javanese have stretched a couple of cables along the interior wall. The lower of these rottang-cables serves as foot-hold, the upper is grasped in one hand, while with the other hand, the man engaged in the work picks the birds' nests from the rock. When the hand cannot reach them the man detaches them by means of a long bamboo pole furnished with an iron hook, and as they fall he has to catch them in a small hand net. As you may suppose, the taking of these swallows' nests is an extremely perilous undertaking. First to clamber down that ladder to an extreme depth along the perpendicular face of the rock and dangling over that boiling sea, then to penetrate into these holes into which the ocean thrusts its waves. In rough weather the work has to be stopped altogether in many of the caves; and, not unfrequently, it happens that the ropes are washed away and the poor fellows who trust to them are dashed to pieces or miserably drowned. You will ask then, perhaps, how can people be found to venture on so hazardous an undertaking? You know, of course, that no race on earth is more attached to its native soil than the Javanese. That characteristic is found in this part of the island also. There is perhaps no wilder and more ungrateful soil in this world than this region in the Karang Bollong mountains. Nothing, or next to nothing, can be made out of agriculture. The tiny rice-fields one meets with here and there on the mountain slopes, are not worth mentioning; and, as far as tradition reaches, the scanty population of this part of Java has always supported itself and does still support itself, by collecting these edible nests. "'Whether they fared better or worse before the Dutch government appropriated that source of income to itself, I have not been able to ascertain. But one thing is certain, that the pay these poor wretches receive from the Government is something worse than pitiful. I have now lying before me a statement drawn up by an official in this part of the country, from which I gather that, for every sack of 80 nests delivered into the Government stores, the man who collects them gets a sum of 15--let us put it down in words--of fifteen cents (about 3d.)!'" "Aye but," said Grashuis, "before we follow the grumblings of our Pole any further, it would be well to know what is the commercial value of those 80 nests." "As a merchant," remarked Grenits, "I can at once supply you with the information you require. The Chinese are always ready to give five thousand guilders for a pikol of nests, and, since one hundred of them weigh about one kattie and the pikol contains one hundred katties, our Government receives four hundred guilders, while it sends the poor devil of a native about his business with 15 cents! By Heaven it is a crying shame!" "But has not the Government other expenses to meet?" asked Grashuis. "Allow me to continue," said van Rheijn, "I promise you an answer to your question, August." "All right, drive ahead!" "'It is true,'" continued van Rheijn, "'that when a man has good luck he may deliver 12 bags.'" "That comes to one guilder eighty cents (about 3s.)," cried Grenits! "and then he must be in luck! God help the poor fellow!" "Now do not be constantly interrupting me!" cried Edward impatiently. "'One must be a Javanese to encounter such perils for so miserable a pittance; for, to realize that magnificent sum, the poor devil must make several trips to the cave which has been assigned to him. The shortest gathering always lasts three weeks, and the longest sometimes goes on for more than two months. Now, how can the native be induced, for such utterly inadequate pay, to face this perpetual and deadly risk? I fancy I can see that question hovering on your lips, and if you will bear with me for a few moments I will tell you. In the first place the Government has secured the co-operation of the native chiefs. You know what a dependent race are the Javanese, how they trust implicitly to their chiefs, and these men are indeed paid on a much more liberal scale. Where the actual worker receives his three shillings, the loerah, for instance, is paid twenty guilders (£1 13s. 4d.), besides a number of perquisites of all kinds, and he receives this, mind you, merely for superintending the work, as it is called. Yet it is probable that the respect and obedience of even a Javanese would not endure such miserably inadequate pay, and therefore the Government has devised another means of binding these poor creatures hand and foot, and that means, my dear friends, is--opium! "'I will not trouble you with all the superstitious fads which the Government not only tolerates but pays for in the matter of this gathering of birds' nests; nor will I speak of the idolatrous worship of Njahi Ratoe Segoro Kidoel which precedes every expedition, and which also is paid for out of the public purse. I will merely point out to you the use which is made of opium, the pernicious effect of which, when taken in anything like excessive quantities, you have yourselves been able to observe. "'Well then, let me tell you that in everything which has any relation whatever to this gathering of nests the current coin is opium. "'If the wajang and toppeng-players have to be sent for, five petty chiefs and four dessa-folk are despatched to fetch them. For this piece of service each of the former receives one kedawang, and each of the latter half a kedawang of opium, the kedawang being equivalent to about two matas. For the cleansing and clearing of the Goewah Bollong loerahs and other chiefs are specially appointed, the former receiving each two and the latter one kedawang of opium. The wajang and toppeng-players receive on their arrival, sixteen kedawangs apiece and four kedawangs for sadjen or offering, and, on their departure, they are paid with a further present of sixteen kedawangs of opium. "'In the Goewah Bollong a feast is always held before the commencement of the expeditions; and for this feast, a certain number of bullocks and one goat have to be killed. For the slaughtering of each of these animals eight kedawangs of opium are paid. For each quarter of the slaughtered animals which must be brought in and carried by one petty chief and two dessa men, the chief is paid one, and the men have half a kedawang of opium apiece. When the ladders are brought to the edge of the cliff, a ceremony which requires two chiefs and two men, the former receive one kedawang, and the latter half a kedawang of opium. "'But I have not finished yet, the abuse of opium goes much further than that. My friends, I beg you have patience and read on. "'At the festival itself the following quantities are served out: to each loerah and each petty chief two kedawangs, and to every guest one kedawang. I have now lying before me a paper from which the following words are an extract: "'"It is impossible to give, with any exactness, the number of persons present at these customary festivals; but seeing that every guest has his portion of opium served out to him, it may be taken for granted that no one who has the slightest right to be present, fails to avail himself of it. At the opening of every cave eight kedawangs are served out, and when the ropes are fastened another eight kedawangs are paid." "'During the ingathering of the nests--but how shall I get through it all? Let me try to be brief. The loerah of Goewah Jedeh gets 76, the loerah of Goewah Dahar gets 64, the one at Goewah Mandoe Loro 44, and the other loerahs receive 40 kedawangs apiece. The toekans of these caves receive each 54, the bekels 24, and the sekeps each 12 kedawangs of opium. "'But even this is not all. The dessas in which the ladders are made are paid in opium, the persons appointed to mount guard over the nests when they are gathered receive their pay in opium. The transmission of the produce, the carrying to and fro of orders, the return of the ladders, the guarding of the caves--everything--everything--is paid with the same fatal drug. In one word, the entire thing is simply an opium debauch on a colossal scale; and it is the surest means of accustoming the people to the use of the deadly narcotic. But--why should I further dilate upon this matter, my letter is already, I fear, too long and I have still to communicate to you certain things which I know will be of the greatest interest to you.'" "Is there much more of the letter?" asked Grashuis. "Yes, I have some pages more to read," replied van Rheijn. "You have given us quite a budget already," remarked van Beneden. "True; but it is extremely interesting," said Grenits. "By Jove, those Poles know how to make use of their eyes." "He has learnt that lesson from the Germans, you know they steal with their eyes." "True, witness the Franco-German war in which the Teutons proved that they knew more about France than the French authorities themselves." "Don't you think," asked van Rheijn, "we had better get on as fast as we can? The most interesting part of the letter is yet to come." These last words he spoke with a strange look at Charles van Nerekool. "Had we not better have a drink first?" suggested Grenits. "By Jove, yes!" cried van Rheijn, "my throat is as dry as a rasp." "Sabieio!" cried van Nerekool, "fill the glasses." While the servant performed that duty the gentlemen lit a fresh cigar, rocked themselves for a while in their rocking-chairs and then were all attention. CHAPTER XXXIX. MUROWSKI ON THE TRACK.--AN OPIUM SALE AT SANTJOEMEH. "Now then," said van Rheijn, "let us proceed. "'Two days before my leave had expired and that, therefore, I should have to return to my garrison duties at Gombong, I started very early in the morning before the break of day from the dessa Ajo in which I had passed the night. My intention was to explore the Western slopes of the Goenoeng Poleng, and I expected that this trip would bring a rich harvest to my collection. And, my friends, I must tell you that my hopes were amply--very amply--realised. For I secured an Arjuna, a large and most lovely butterfly with pointed golden-green wings fringed with a deep velvety band of black. It was a rare specimen I can assure you, and absolutely perfect and uninjured. The day before, one of the dessa-people at Ajo had brought me a Cymbium Diadema, a fine brown shell spotted with white, which the man assured me, he had picked up on the sands in one of the creeks on the South coast of the island of Noesa Kambangan. I purchased it from the fellow for a mere song. "'But enough of this: I return to my subject. "'As I told you, I had started some time before the break of day and had got some distance from the dessa Ajo when the dawn began to tinge the entire mountain range of Karang Bollong. My path was not a very pleasant one to travel along; for it took me right across all the ravines which run down from the heights. These are funnel-shaped, exceedingly tortuous; and twisting and turning in all directions they run down to the plain at the foot of the range, in which the Kali Djetis flows onward to the sea. "'As gradually I mounted higher and higher, the panorama stretched out at my feet became more and more imposing. The fresh invigorating morning air and the truly magnificent scenery about me, filled me with delight; and every now and then I actually forgot my passion for butterflies wholly absorbed as I was in the glories which lay around me. "'At length I gained a ridge between two pretty deep ravines, and I was stopping for a few moments to regain my breath after the exertion of climbing the steep ascent up which my path had led me. In both these ravines little brooks were gurgling. They were mere threads of water hurrying down the Goenoeng Poleng, and it was refreshing to look upon them as they frisked and danced and foamed along their strange zig-zag course. From the eminence on which I then stood, they looked like ribbons of silver tape unconsciously displaying their beauty to the morning air. The ravine which I had just left was strewn with big blocks of trachyte flung about in confusion, great masses of ruin detached, no doubt, from the central range. Such was the case also in the other ravine into which I was preparing to descend; but between the boulders and scanty shrubs, my eye suddenly caught the attap-roof of a Javanese house. From the place where I stood, I could catch sight only of the front verandah; but yet that small hut, situated there in the wild and lonely mountain range and at some distance from the dessa Ajo, arrested my attention. Can it be some misanthropist, I thought, who is living there so far away from the haunts of men? Through an open window, my eye could penetrate one of the rooms in the hut, and I thought I saw a snow-white bed-curtain waving to and fro under the influence of the morning breeze; I fancied also that I could distinguish a chair. Now all this greatly puzzled me; for your Javanese, as a rule, does not indulge in such luxuries, and, if he makes use of a curtain at all, he generally selects one of some gaudily coloured material.'" Van Rheijn paused for a moment or two to take a drink of beer, and in doing so he cast a penetrating look upon Charles van Nerekool. The latter was sitting in his chair listlessly rocking himself up and down, and had very much the appearance of a man who listens but whose thoughts are travelling elsewhere. "You are not listening to me, Charles," he cried! At this abrupt address van Nerekool started up out of his reverie. "I?" he asked in confusion. "Now, you see!" continued van Rheijn with a laugh, "while I am wasting my breath to get to the end of Murowski's budget, our friend the judge there is sitting in a brown study, his thoughts wandering heaven knows where, but certainly nowhere near the dessa Ajo. But wait a bit, you fellows, mark my words, you will see a change soon. The part most interesting to him is just coming. Now listen." Van Nerekool shook his head and smiled incredulously, he puffed hard at his cigar, sat up straight in his chair and disposed himself to listen with concentrated attention. Van Rheijn went on reading: "'But, while I was thus standing, gazing and pondering, I heard far, far away beneath my feet, a noise of laughing, giggling and playing--in fact, the silvery tones of two girls' voices. "'I stretched out my neck and cautiously peered about to find out, if possible, from whence those pleasant sounds proceeded; but it was in vain, I could discover nothing. I noticed, however, that the foaming brook beneath me took a very sharp turn, and that close to its side grew a large Wariengien tree, whose massive foliage defied every inquisitive look; while, at the same time, a pretty little clump of shrubs shut out the view on either side. Meanwhile, the tittering and laughing went on, mingled every now and then with a playful little shriek, accompanied by the sound of plunging and splashing of water. Then it dawned upon me that yonder in that clear mountain stream, some girls were amusing themselves with bathing. What shall I say in excuse of my indiscretion? I suppose the best, in fact the only excuse I can offer, is that a man is neither a stock nor a stone. My road, moreover, led straight to the attractive spot; and thus, without, I fear, giving much thought to what I was doing, I found myself on the way to emulate Actaeon in his fatal curiosity, never in the least expecting to spy out a Diana. "'So I cautiously clambered down the slopes, taking, as you may suppose, the most particular care not to make the least noise which might disturb the bathing nymphs. For a little while my path ran down directly to the Wariengien tree, which overshadowed a considerable area. If the course of the narrow path had only continued in that direction a little longer it must have brought me to the very foot of the tree. But, suddenly, I came upon a large rock, and there the road ran to the left and seemed to shorten the way by leading straight to another bend in the creek. Most probably this led to some ford, for I could see the path on the other side of the brook, running up the side of the ravine. Now, what was I to do? I ought, like a good boy, to have followed the path no doubt; but my curiosity was stimulated by the splashing and laughing, which now seemed much nearer to me than before. I confess, the temptation was too great, and I left the path in order to get up to the Wariengien tree. Good luck seemed to favour me. From the rock which barred the road I could see a gentle slope thickly overgrown with bushes. In these numberless butterflies were fluttering about; but, will you believe me? I never so much as gave them a look or a thought I had left my tin box and my net behind at the foot of the rock so as to be quite free in my movements. Like some Dajak or some Alfoer of Papua I stole along from bush to bush.'" The young men burst out into a loud shout of laughter. "I can see our Pole," laughed Grenits, "sneaking along like an Alfoer, in something like Adam's costume, up to the bathers." "Yes," said van Rheijn, laughing as heartily as the others, "with only an ewah round his loins. "But pray let me go on, we are coming to the most interesting and most important part. Are you listening to me, Charles?" "I am not losing a single syllable," said the latter, moving somewhat uneasily in his chair. "Do make haste." "'--From bush to bush, and I got as near as I possibly could. At length I found myself standing before a kind of hedge which grew around the Wariengien, and made it impossible for me to advance any further. The magnificent wild-fig tree stood on the edge of an oval water-basin, which might have been washed out by the power of the stream, or might have been hewn by the hand of man out of the mass of gray trachyte rock. The pool itself appeared to be about 25 yards long, and perhaps 15 yards broad, and the heavy crown of the Wariengien cast a pleasant shadow right over it. It was fed from the brook of which, in fact, it formed a part, and the water, though deep, was so bright and clear that even the smallest pebbles could be seen distinctly at the bottom. These details, you must know, have only lately occurred to me; at that moment I had no time to pay any particular attention to them, something very different was engrossing my thoughts. For, in the centre of the pool, of which from my position I could survey about twenty feet, were swimming and splashing and frisking about two female forms. How shall I describe to you what I saw and what I felt without too painfully affecting one of your friends.'" Here Edward stole another glance at his friend van Nerekool. "Go on, go on!" cried the latter almost passionately as he caught the look. "'Two female forms. Both had on the usual bathing dress of Javanese women, that is the sarong. You know how prettily, and how modestly too, the Indian beauties can coquet with that rather scanty garment--how they draw it up and fasten it above the bosom; and, I presume, you can imagine how such a garment, when wet through and closely clinging to the limbs, rather serves to heighten than to veil the charms it is intended to conceal. That, however, I will leave to your fertile imaginations. Both girls were extremely beautiful, though each had her own style of beauty. One of them was decidedly a Javanese, the nose slightly turned up, the round cheeks and somewhat full lips, in fact the entire face, bore unmistakably the stamp of her nationality. For a few moments she stood still in a somewhat shallow part of the pool, and busied herself in readjusting her sarong, which had got rather loose in swimming. As she did so I could at once perceive that the young woman I had before me was in what is called an interesting condition.'" Once again van Rheijn paused for an instant and shot a quick glance at van Nerekool. The latter sat in his chair literally panting with excitement, and taking in every word with the most eager attention. "Go on! Go on!" he murmured. "'The other was altogether of much slimmer build. Her bust, which the wet sarong could hardly conceal, showed that it had been in contact with the European corset, and her features proclaimed her of totally different race from her companion. Had the skin not been brown I should at once have pronounced her to be a European, especially as her hair, though jet-black, was silky, and fell around her as a mantle, and, while she was swimming, floated on the water behind in a mass of wavy curls. Then, I thought, I could trace something of Arabian origin in the fair creature I saw moving in the crystal stream. Arabian! why that could not be; for at the very same moment I thought I recognised her very features. "'My friends, I am utterly unable to describe to you the lovely scene I was just then gazing upon. No pen is eloquent enough for that. It would need the brush of some great artist to catch the glow and colour of that entrancing view. "'Quite unconscious that, in that lonely pool far away from any human dwelling, and in the recesses of such a wilderness, any indiscreet eye was watching them--the two girls, like real water nymphs, were gaily disporting themselves. They pursued one another, trying to duck each other in the stream, while they had the greatest trouble to prevent their sarongs from getting loose and falling down. That game lasted a considerable time, it seemed as if the pretty creatures could not make up their mind to leave the cool refreshing stream. At length the slimmer of the two girls said: "Come, baboe, it is time to go home."'" "Ha, ha, it was Malay they were speaking and not Javanese at all!" remarked Grashuis. "No, no," replied Edward, glancing uneasily at van Nerekool, "it was not Javanese; but let me read on, we are now coming to the dénouement. "'The fair swimmer got to the side of the pool and sat down on the rocky bank allowing her little feet to paddle in the water. She presently began to wring out her mass of hair and, as she was sitting with her face turned away from me, from the position I occupied I could only catch a glimpse of part of her back as she lifted up her arms to tie up her hair. Was it the light in my eyes? Was it all a mere delusion? Did my eyes play me false altogether? I began to think that her back was not nearly so dark as her face, her neck and her hands. Puzzled beyond measure I was determined to get a better view. I grasped a branch of one of the shrubs which were around me, I hoisted myself up and bent forward as far as I could! Alas!--no, rather let me say thank God!--in making that movement I slipped. A big lump of stone, dislodged, no doubt, by the motion of my feet, went rolling down the slope and fell down plump into the water to the right of and close beside the fair bather. It was just by the merest chance that I did not tumble in myself, what a fright the poor little dear would have been in! It was bad enough as it was. At the splash made by the stone the girl uttered a cry of terror, she suddenly moved to the left and started to fly. In doing so her sarong must have hitched in some projecting stone, and-- "'By all the gods, she was a pure-bred European! Face, arms, hands, neck, shoulders, all were brown; but for the rest she was lily-white--that beautiful creamy white which is so characteristic of brunettes. "'Then it all became clear to me--Miss van Gulpendam--she who had so mysteriously disappeared--that face with which I felt all along I was familiar--Oh, there was no possibility of a mistake, I knew her well enough now in spite of the dark colouring of her skin. Though the girls could not see me behind my thick hedge, yet they were much startled and frightened. They at once snatched up their clothes and fled up the path which leads to the hut I had seen on the ridge, and as they ran I could overhear the Javanese saying to her companion: "Don't be alarmed, Nana, there is no person there." Probably she meant to say that the stone was loosened by the movement of some animal or perhaps she ascribed it to mere chance. In spite, however, of this, both of them hurried out of sight as fast as they could, and soon the sheltering roof of their little hut received them. "'It was then only that I began to feel how unpardonable had been my indiscretion and, to spare the young ladies' feelings as much as I could, I remained for a long time concealed. When I thought they must have given up looking out, I sneaked as quietly as possible, under cover of the bushes, to the bottom of the ravine, and there a bend in the path soon enabled me to get away unperceived. Such, my friends, is my adventure in the Karang Bollong mountains. I have sent you this news as soon as possible for I know how happy my communication will make one of you. I will not venture to give you any counsel as to what you ought to do under the circumstances; but I place myself entirely at your disposal and shall at any time be ready to point out the little hut to you.'" "Anna!--Anna found!" exclaimed van Nerekool, jumping up out of his chair and striding impatiently up and down the inner gallery. "What do you intend to do?" asked van Beneden. "What I intend to do? Why, to-morrow morning at daybreak I am off--I will--!" "My dear fellow," said Grashuis, restraining, as well as he could, his friend's impatience and excitement, "now, pray, do not be in a hurry." "How can you talk such nonsense!" cried van Nerekool--"Do not be in a hurry!--And what if meanwhile she should again disappear?" "I do not think," remarked van Rheijn, "that there is much danger of that. I suppose the girls have by this time got over their fright--indeed there was not much to terrify them--and as they have probably not seen any one since of whom they can have the least suspicion, they will come to the conclusion that they were scared by a false alarm. I do not think they will for a moment think of leaving that lonely spot." "My dear friends," said van Beneden, "I believe the very best thing we can do at present is to go to bed. It is now late, and we ought to have time to think this matter over. At all events, Charles must certainly not think of starting to-morrow morning; by doing so he would spoil his whole career. A man in his position must not run away from his post as a deserter." "Yes," said Charles, "you fellows had better go to bed. I shall sit down at once and write for leave of absence." "That's right," quoth Theodoor Grenits. "In that case we shall have a few days for quiet reflection. And now, Charles, my boy, I have no need to ask for leave, I intend to go with you on your journey; here's my hand upon it!" The young men hereupon shook hands and each went to his own lodging, while, in the distance, the sounds of revelry at the Chinaman's house were still resounding. Van Nerekool applied for leave of absence; but found that it took some time to obtain it. Mr. Greveland was just at that time so very busy that he could not undertake to grant Charles' request, however eagerly this latter might press for it. The President, however, forwarded van Nerekool's application to the authorities at Batavia. Thus Charles was forced for some days to wait with such patience as he could command. Meanwhile, however, events were taking place which exercise some influence on the course of our story and which we will now proceed to narrate. Not long after the nuptials between Lim Ho and pretty and wealthy Ngow Ming Nio had been solemnized, the great day came round on which the opium monopoly for the years 18--, 18--, and 18-- had to be assigned. This was a most important event for the whole official world, and one which, in the well known financial position of matters at home, was especially significant to those who were in authority at Batavia and Santjoemeh. For, if the Colonial Secretary could but show a goodly number of millions as the produce of the sale of opium-contracts, why then he and his colleagues might feel themselves pretty safe in their seats. They thought, and not without excellent reason, that if they could but manage to increase the revenue they would, by that means, gain infinite credit in the Parliament at home. It need hardly be said therefore that every nerve was strained to obtain so desirable a result. Resident van Gulpendam had, as our readers know, another, that is a private, reason for making every exertion; and he left no stone unturned to induce as many as he possibly could to come and bid for the lucrative contract. His agents were out on all sides trying to get the rival companies to enter into competition, and in these efforts his handsome wife was of the greatest assistance to him. The proud woman had set her heart and soul upon seeing her husband's breast adorned with the "bertes knabbeldat." Now that the existing contracts were fast running out, and that by the last day of December, the opium-monopolies for the different districts had to be again put up to the highest bidder, the greatest activity prevailed. The strictest precautions against smuggling were taken along the entire coast-line--against such smuggling, be it understood, as was not carried on by the farmers themselves. Bandoelans and policemen were everywhere on the alert, and were left to do pretty much as they pleased in their visitations of suspected houses, or in their search for opium on the persons of the unhappy creatures to whom they might owe a grudge. Especially did those suffer from their insolence, who either did not make use of opium at all, or who used it in strict moderation. The success which these stringent measures obtained was rapid and complete. The sale of opium by the farmers rose in an extraordinary manner now that contraband wares could no longer be obtained, and the retail price of the pernicious drug rose in proportion. "If we could only have that kind of thing always going on!" cried Lim Ho who, when the conversation turned upon opium, could not always keep a discreet tongue in his head. But Lim Yang Bing, who was older and wiser, and who, above all things, feared competition at the coming sales, merely shrugged his shoulders. He would have been glad enough to say nothing about this sudden increase in his daily receipts; but, with so many opium-dens under his control, secrecy was well-nigh impossible. But Resident van Gulpendam did more than this. He, through his agents, cleverly spread the report that the Government intended largely to increase the number of opium-licenses in his Residence. This had its effect also, and presently a feverish excitement began to show itself in the rival Chinese camps. On the important day of the sale, a brand-new flag of extraordinary dimensions, the finest and brightest that could be found, was waving in the morning breeze from the flag-staff in front of the residential mansion. On that day the whole body of oppassers had been mustered. They numbered over twenty men, all dressed in new uniforms with bright yellow belts furbished up as smartly as possible. The native soldiers also on sentry were in full-dress, and they marched up and down before the steps of the Residence with a solemnity and gravity of demeanour, which plainly showed that they were impressed with a full consciousness of the responsibilities which rested upon them. To add to the brilliancy of the display, Resident van Gulpendam had summoned to Santjoemeh a couple of assistant residents and a couple of controllers from the adjoining districts. These gentlemen, together with all the native chiefs then present in the capital, assembled towards ten o'clock in the front gallery. All were, of course, in full official dress with sprigs of orange and oak-leaves embroidered in silver on their collars. The orange, an emblem of purity; the oak, the type of manly vigour and independence. They had on white cashmere trousers with a broad gold stripe, and the regulation dress-sword by their sides. Presently the Chinese contingent also began to arrive, all dressed in clean white jackets and black trousers monstrously wide in the legs, their heads carefully shaven and polished, while the long scalp-lock which forms the tail was treated with the greatest care, plaited skilfully and with almost mathematical exactness, and interwoven with red, blue, and white silk cord. At first only a few idlers appeared strolling in merely out of curiosity to have a look at the proceedings. These were succeeded by other more wealthy men, the representatives of the various companies, who might be expected to enter into the competition. Last of all Lim Yang Bing and his son Lim Ho drove up and, as they stepped out of their carriage, they carefully scrutinized their countrymen present. For some time the Celestials mingled with the official personages, and formed a group in which salutations and hand-shakings bore witness to the cordiality existing between them. But when the soldier on guard struck one blow upon the gong which stood beside his sentry-box, and thus announced that it was half-past ten, Resident van Gulpendam accompanied by his private secretary--both in full-dress--entered the front gallery, while Mrs. van Gulpendam, on the arm of van Rheijn, appeared at one of the open doors. The chiefs present all made a low bow, the sentries presented arms, the oppassers formed a line by the pajoeng stand, in which a gorgeous emblem of dignity was conspicuous. The officials present now advanced in a body to pay their homage to the representative of the Governor-General who, in his turn, represents the King of the Netherlands in these far-away Asiatic regions. Next, the Chinamen came forward to perform a similar duty, and after this the two groups of Europeans and Chinamen remained apart. A few of the latter, foremost among them Lim Yang Bing and Lim Ho, walked up to Laurentia, and gave her a courteous greeting. She was all affability and cordially shook hands with the pair as well as with some others, who were standing near; and then she invited all the babahs to come in and have something to drink. "It is so frightfully hot just now in Santjoemeh!" she protested. A faint smile passed over the Chinamen's wan and yellow features; they bowed their thanks as they cast significant looks at one another. Then they followed their fair guide through the inner gallery into the pandoppo. A large table stood there bearing a number of trays full of champagne glasses, while, under the table, might be seen little tubs of ice, in which the bottles with their silvered corks were neatly arranged. "Open the champagne!" cried Laurentia to three or four attendants who stood by. The corks popped, and in a few moments all the babahs, rich and poor, were standing glass in hand eager to be allowed the honour of touching glasses with the Njonja-Resident. As a rule, your Chinaman is a great stickler for etiquette; and, on any ordinary occasion, they would no doubt have sipped their wine leisurely, with half-closed eyes as they have seen Europeans do; but now they behaved in a widely different manner. For fair Laurentia had informed them that, when they had the honour of drinking with a njonja, the glass must be emptied at a single draught. "The gentlemen call that ad fundum," remarked the Chinese major. "Just so, babah," replied Laurentia as she gave him a sly nudge. In an instant every cup was drained. "Fill the glasses!" she cried; and from that moment Mrs. van Gulpendam kept the waiters busy. On one pretext or another, she took care that the glasses were kept filled and that their contents were duly and speedily disposed of. Meanwhile the Resident himself had been engaged in conversation with his friends and subordinates in the front gallery. "What has become of our babahs?" he asked presently. "Come, gentlemen, I do not think we shall have cause to repent if we go and look them up. It is frightfully hot here. Don't you think so?" Thus saying and wiping the perspiration from his brow with his cambric handkerchief, he led the way into the interior of the house followed by his embroidered and lace-covered staff. "Ah, I thought as much!" he cried, as he entered the pandoppo, and then to the servants: "Look sharp, give the gentlemen glasses." As this was going on, Laurentia slipped away unobserved leaving the lords of the creation to enjoy themselves in their own fashion. The Resident whispered a few words to Kwee Siong Liem, one of the wealthiest Chinamen in Santjoemeh, and this latter, during the brief conversation, strove to cast furtive glances at Lim Yang Bing. "I shall go as high as I possibly can, kandjeng toean," said the babah; "but I fear--" "You need not be afraid," whispered van Gulpendam. "Aye, but, kandjeng toean, the bidding will run up too high!" "Don't forget, babah, that there are eight additional licenses specified in the contract." "That's all very well, kandjeng toean; but--" However, the kandjeng toean did not stay to listen to the Chinaman's objection. He stepped forward, took off his cocked hat, raised the glass which a servant had put into his hand and said: "Here's success to the sale!" The sentiment drew forth cheers from the assembled Celestials on whom the generous wine of Veuve Clicquot was beginning to have an exhilarating effect. "To the health of the kandjeng toean!" cried the assistant resident of police. "To the health of the Chinese major!" shouted another and so it went on. To all these toasts ample justice was done. The little slanting eyes of the Celestials were really beginning to twinkle right merrily. At length the clock struck eleven and the clear metallic sound rang quivering through the apartment. "Now, gentlemen!" cried the Resident, "to business! But first allow me to inform those present here who may not happen to be successful in this competition, that in a few days the monopoly for the district of Bengawan will be put up to auction; and that, a couple of days after that again, another valuable contract will be offered for sale. You see, therefore, that there are rich, very rich profits awaiting many of you." After having thus spoken, the Resident led the way into the inner gallery followed by the entire company. In this room stood a large table with a white marble top on which were scattered about a number of official papers and documents. At the head of this table van Gulpendam took up his position surrounded by his staff; and opposite him stood the crowd of Chinamen, the table separating the two groups from one another. On the wall of the room hung a very fine picture, a life-size, half-length portrait of King William III., and this picture formed the centre, as it were, of the two groups of Europeans and Asiatics. "The secretary will now proceed to read out the conditions of the opium contract which we are about to dispose of," said the Resident very solemnly. The official thus alluded to began at once, in the usual monotonous and almost unintelligible drone, to mumble a series of articles which he seemed to have by heart. Indeed, the whole thing was a mere formality. Those who had come prepared to bid for this Government contract were perfectly familiar with every word that paper contained. At the preamble, "In the name of the King," every head bowed deeply. One article, in which mention was made of the fact that the new opium farmer would have the privilege of opening a number of stores in addition to those specified in the former contract, the secretary took care to read out with an amount of distinctness and emphasis which could not fail to arrest the attention of all interested parties. When this formality was ended, the Resident said: "The sum bid for the former contract which is now about to expire was twelve hundred and thirty-two thousand guilders-- Who will make a higher bid?" "Twelve hundred and thirty five!" cried a voice. "Twelve hundred and forty thousand!" said another. "Twelve hundred and fifty!" was heard in a corner. "Twelve hundred and sixty!" There was a pause of a few seconds. "Twelve hundred and sixty is offered," quietly repeated van Gulpendam. "Thirteen hundred thousand!" exclaimed Kwee Siong Liem who stood at one side of the table. Lim Yang Bing had not yet spoken a word; but now he looked up, gave one inquiring look at his rival and cried: "Fourteen hundred thousand!" "Fifteen!" The real battle had begun. "Sixteen hundred thousand!" was the opium farmer's ready reply. Once again a short pause ensued. "It is hot to-day!" whispered a voice. The Resident cast a look at one of his oppassers and the man immediately left the room. A few instants later three or four servants hurried in bearing trays full of glasses in which the deliciously iced champagne was foaming and glittering. The Chinamen eagerly took them--it was so very very hot! "Sixteen hundred thousand guilders is offered!" cried Mr. van Gulpendam. At that moment Lim Yang Bing's opponent seized upon two of the glasses and, in his feverish excitement, he gulped down their contents. "Sixteen hundred and twenty-five!" he cried. "Seventeen hundred thousand!" retorted the opium farmer with great composure. Another pause, which was broken only by the heavy breathing of the excited crowd and the clinking of the glasses, which under the able superintendence of Laurentia, who stood behind a side-door watching the scene, were continually being replenished by the waiters. "Seventeen hundred thousand!" repeated the Resident. "Seventeen hundred and twenty!" cried Lim Yang Bing's rival. "Eighteen hundred thousand!" answered the farmer. Another glass of the seductive beverage was required before a higher bid was made. "Eighteen hundred and twenty thousand!" at length gasped Kwee Siong Liem huskily, as if he were losing his voice altogether. "Nineteen hundred thousand!" cried Lim Yang Bing. His rival was beginning to waver, yet he mustered up courage to mutter in an almost inaudible whisper: "Nineteen hundred and twenty-five thousand!" "Two millions!" exclaimed Lim Yang Bing triumphantly. A dead silence ensued. After that knock-down blow one might have heard a pin drop. It was evident that the opposition was crushed. Perhaps Kwee Siong Liem might have made another attempt; but the members of his company pulled him forcibly back and prevented him from rashly uttering another word. "Two millions are bid," said the Resident. "Allow me once again to draw the attention of the company to the fact that several additional licenses will be granted." But it was of no avail. The servants--poor fellows--kept rushing about filling up the glasses; but the wine seemed to have lost its power. "Two millions once! "Two millions--twice. Will anyone bid higher? Two millions--for the third time!" Bang! down came the hammer. "Subject to the approval of the Dutch Government," said the Resident impressively, "I declare this opium contract to be assigned to Lim Yang Bing!" At these words all the officials crowded round their chief to wish him joy on his brilliant success; while most of the Chinamen pressed around Lim Yang Bing to congratulate him and shake hands with him. Laurentia took care that another round of champagne should set the seal on the bargain. There was, of course, a great deal of excitement for some time, and much enthusiasm was displayed; but whether any one present bestowed even a passing thought upon the poor unhappy dessa-people, out of whose scanty means and enfeebled frames this enormous sum was to be wrung--that we cannot undertake to affirm. Yes, there was one man who did think of them; and that man was van Rheijn. He looked sadly up at the portrait of the king as he asked himself whether it could really be his royal will that such things should go on among his subjects. Alas, the dumb canvas could not answer, and the picture of the sovereign gazed down quietly upon the noisy crowd. Scarcely had the Resident got rid of his visitors before he rushed into his study, and soon returned with beaming countenance, bearing in his hand two telegrams, each couched in precisely similar terms. "Result of opium-sale at Santjoemeh--two millions. Van Gulpendam." One dispatch was destined for Batavia, the other was for the Hague. When the oppasser whom he sent to the telegraph office had disappeared, van Gulpendam looked around him with the utmost satisfaction and complacency. As his eye fell upon the Dutch flag, which spread its gay colours to the breeze, he fancied that those folds pointed to the North-West--towards home. "Aye," he muttered to himself, "from that quarter my reward must come." Turning round as he said these words, he saw Laurentia standing at his elbow. He gave her one penetrating look: "You here yet?" asked he. But without replying, she grasped his arm, drew him with gentle violence into the inner room, and there, when safe from every prying look, she clasped him in her strong white arms to her breast. "Gulpie!" she cried, "Gulpie, my darling! you have surpassed yourself!" "Yes," said he, with assumed modesty, "yes, I have piloted that frigate pretty cleverly, though I say so myself. Now, I hope they will not be ungrateful at the Hague!" CHAPTER XL. THE "VIRTUS NOBILITAT." ANNA AND DALIMA. A TELEGRAM. Oh no, the people at the Hague were not at all ungrateful. Eight days had not elapsed before the telegraph had flashed across the ocean the news, that it had been the pleasure of H. M. the king to confer upon his trusty servant van Gulpendam the order of the Netherlands' Lion. By the next mail the particulars arrived in Java, and it then became known that immediately after the receipt of the telegram announcing the result of the opium-sale at Santjoemeh, a special council of Ministers was called. At this meeting the Colonial Secretary, elated to the verge of excitement, had drawn special attention to the conspicuous merit of Resident van Gulpendam, and had dwelt upon the great financial advantages which would accrue to the State if all the other residents were encouraged to emulate his example. He reminded his colleagues that the revenue derived from the coffee-culture was fast dwindling away and threatened soon to become a thing of the past; and that, therefore, opium was in the future to be looked upon as the chief means for keeping afloat the ship of the State. That it was for this reason a matter of the utmost importance to strive and raise the revenues, derived from that source, by all possible means, as indeed he had always shown himself zealous to do from the day that the king had entrusted the affairs of the colonies to his hands. Knowing perfectly well that he had nothing new to say, yet the minister purposely left something unsaid. He took care not to tell his colleagues, and the nation, that, with anything like judicious management, the coffee culture would have continued as profitable as ever it was; but that, by gross neglect and swindling on the part of the officials who had the management of it, that source of revenue had been well-nigh destroyed. He further omitted to let them know, that the culture of coffee was a means of spreading prosperity and contentment among the native population; whereas the encouragement of opium was a public disgrace and a national curse. Upon these subjects the Colonial Secretary did not touch; and thus his colleagues unanimously applauded his speech and supported his application for the Netherlands' Lion, an application to which, being a constitutional monarch, King William III. could not refuse his sanction. Some few there were, no doubt, who shook their heads dubiously as the news of this honourable distinction reached Santjoemeh. But yet, when the newspapers, in their boldest type, conveyed to the people the happy tidings, almost all Santjoemeh was beside itself for joy. Cards, letters, telegrams of congratulation came pouring in on all sides, not only from Java; but also from friends in Holland. The van Gulpendams received visits innumerable, and even those who did not join in the universal chorus of rapture, yet found it difficult to refrain from giving some outward show of satisfaction. Such want of courtesy might very easily have been ascribed to envy. But these were not the only demonstrations of the public joy. Fêtes, dinner parties, balls were given to celebrate the memorable event. The Regent of Santjoemeh led the way by giving a splendid banquet in honour of the newly made knight; and his example was speedily followed by the Government officials, by the members of the Club "Concordia," by the Chinese major, &c. &c. As a grand final to this round of festivities, a state ball was given at the Residence, at which, it is needless to say, that all Santjoemeh was expected to be present, as indeed it was. On these festive occasions, toasts were drunk, speeches were made, congratulatory odes were recited--and all this to glorify the man whose breast was now decorated with the "virtus nobilitat." Fair Laurentia, with that fine tact, which, in woman, is almost an instinct, had tried to persuade her husband to appear in public with the very tiniest cross suspended from the narrowest possible bit of blue and orange ribbon. This would undoubtedly have been in good taste; but the Resident would have none of it. He sent at once to Batavia for a cross about as big as an ordinary saucer, and he suspended it from a ribbon of proportionate width. "When you do hang out a flag," said he to his wife, "men must be able to see it a mile off and you must let it blow out bravely." That was his view of the matter, and no argument had been of any avail against this nautical aphorism. To tell the truth, the man was mighty proud of himself and hugely enjoyed all the fuss that was made about him. His satisfaction would indeed have been perfect, had not certain uneasy rumours begun to spread among the public. It was whispered, that among the native population, the feeling of contentment of which the Resident was constantly making mention in his despatches, was not by any means so perfect as he tried to represent it. Rumours were abroad of secret gatherings and even of conspiracies far more alarming than the casual assembling of robber bands. It was a curious thing that a certain paper in Batavia, alluding to these secret risings in the residence of Santjoemeh, said that a Holy War was in preparation, and gave this information on trustworthy authority. This paper, which had thus ventured to disturb the serenity of the authorities, was treated in the most summary manner, its plant was confiscated, its offices closed, its editor banished; all this to prove, of course, that there was no disturbance whatever, but that the press only was dangerous. But yet, some very plain hints were conveyed to Resident van Gulpendam that it would be well for him to do his utmost to prove that the situation was really as satisfactory as he represented it to be, and that the unpleasant rumours were nothing more than idle gossip. Accordingly, van Gulpendam had, during the festive week, made some excursions into the parts which were said to be disaffected; but he had found the most profound quiet everywhere. At the suggestion of the European officials, the native chiefs had not failed to wait on the kandjeng toean to offer him their very sincere congratulations on the distinction with which it had been the king's pleasure to honour him. Nothing could be better. Van Gulpendam was in the highest possible spirits, he had a kind word for all, he courteously acknowledged every profession of good will, whether it came from European or native; and exhorted every one to continue in these pleasant paths of peace. But yet, amidst all this chorus of jubilation, one jarring note was heard. It came from a well-known European settler, who owned a large sugar-plantation and factory, situated on the extreme limits of the residence of Santjoemeh. This gentleman was most positive in his assertion, that clandestine meetings and assemblies were, now and then, held in a wood close by his property. He had his information from sources which, he thought, were absolutely trustworthy; and he further declared that he was acquainted even with the names of a couple of the ringleaders. He could not help looking upon these secret meetings as suspicious, even though perhaps they might not be immediately dangerous. "And may I beg you to tell me what are those names?" said Mr. van Gulpendam sarcastically. "I know only two of them," was the reply; "they must be father and son, for they are Pak Ardjan and Ardjan; the latter, I am told, is a bold and determined fellow, and both seem to belong to the dessa Kaligaweh in the district of Banjoe Pahit." At the mention of these names, the Resident felt that he turned pale. He pulled out his handkerchief to wipe the perspiration from his face and to hide his evident confusion. "It is oppressively hot!" cried he, in a faint tone of voice. A glass of iced water was handed to him, and soon he regained his composure. Determined to remove the impression which his momentary confusion might have made, he continued: "Pooh, pooh! Those Kaligaweh fellows have crossed the sea long ago. Depend upon it they won't show their noses on Dutch territory again. I know for a fact that they were quite lately seen at Singapore. There can be no doubt about that." "Well, Resident," replied the sugar-planter in a serious tone, "I must tell you that I do not feel at all safe. You know, of course, that here in India the outlying settlers always are the first victims of these native plots; and that if such a rising as I apprehend were to break out, all Europeans would be ruthlessly massacred. My grounds," he continued, "lie far away, and, in case of a sudden outbreak, it would take two days at least for either police or military to reach me. I shall therefore esteem it a great favour if you will grant me some kind of protection. Send me a few policemen whom I can trust, I will see to the arming of the men." "Policemen! my dear sir. What are you talking about? What would be the use of them?" asked the Resident with a compassionate smile; for he had by this time completely regained his self-possession. "You are creating fanciful dangers. It is, in fact, absurd to talk in this manner." "I know what I know," rejoined the sugar-factor, "and I say without any hesitation, that the reports which have reached me do not appear to me at all fanciful or incredible." "All right!" said van Gulpendam carelessly. "You must excuse me, Resident," insisted the sugar-planter, "but I think that if you were living with your family in that lonely spot you would not talk in quite such an easy way." Although our friend van Gulpendam was not precisely the stuff that heroes are made of, yet he was not by any means a coward. He felt, moreover, perfectly well that the moment had arrived to payer de sa personne. What might be said at Batavia should it be suspected that he felt the slightest distrust or fear? "All nonsense!" cried he in the same sarcastic and careless manner. "Come now, my dear sir, to prove to you how certain I am that there is nothing wrong, I invite myself and my wife to go and stay with you for a fortnight on your plantation. I know you keep a pretty good galley, do you accept my offer?" "With the greatest pleasure in the world, Resident," eagerly cried the planter. He felt sure that the Resident of the district would take care to come under a sufficient escort of police. "Very well, then," replied van Gulpendam; "as soon as ever these festivities are over at Santjoemeh, I will let you know; and then you may get a couple of rooms ready for us." "And how many oppassers do you intend to bring?" "None at all! a couple of my servants, and that is all. I intend to show you that I have the fullest confidence in the state of affairs, and that I am under no apprehension whatever. Now that is agreed upon, eh?" Just outside, close under the verandah in which this conversation was taking place, a couple of sentries were walking up and down as a guard of honour to the kandjeng toean. If any one could but have watched one of these fellows, he must have noticed that the sentry marched up and down in such a manner as always to keep as close as possible to the speakers. He must have observed also, that the man was listening to every word that was said; and that his eyes wore a most dangerous and sinister expression. At the last sentence spoken by the Resident a gleam of satisfaction seemed to overspread the native soldier's face and, had he received a classical education, no doubt the man would have muttered to himself: "Deus quem vult perdere prius dementat." As soon as van Gulpendam returned to Santjoemeh, he gave it out far and wide that both his wife and himself were tired out by this round of festivities, that they needed rest and had made up their minds to go and enjoy a fortnight's peace and quietness at the factory "Soeka maniesan." Two days later they started. Laurentia took only her maid, and van Gulpendam a couple of body-servants; but, on the box, a single oppasser was seated beside the coachman. His duty was to hold aloft the golden pajoeng in token that the Resident toean was seated within. That same day Charles van Nerekool and Theodoor Grenits also started for Gombong, intending from thence, in company with Murowski, to go and surprise Anna van Gulpendam in her lonely retreat. The two carriages crossed as they left the town of Santjoemeh. The one over which the pajoeng was displayed travelling in an eastern direction, while the other took the road to the south. After nonna Anna and baboe Dalima had been so thoroughly frightened at their bathing place, they no longer ventured to go alone to the spot. They thought--indeed by this time they felt sure--that the stone which so unexpectedly had splashed down by Anna's side, had been detached from the rock above by the tread of some animal--of some wild boar perhaps or some stray goat. But for all that the fright had suggested the possibility of a surprise. Anna, therefore, had persuaded an old Javanese woman to come and take up her abode with them in the little hut. She would accompany them to the bathing place and mount guard while the young girls were disporting themselves in the water, and would thus be able to give them timely warning of the approach of any possible intruder. There was another advantage gained by taking this nènèh into their service; for they could now leave to her certain necessary and menial duties which would leave them more time to spend at the loom or to work in the painting room. The harder they worked the faster the money came in, for the kahins and the slendangs which they wove, and the sarongs they painted, were in great request. In fact they generally had more orders on hand than they could manage to execute. The result was that the inmates of the hut began to find themselves in somewhat easy circumstances, and--was it perhaps owing to this fact, or was it because no one could look upon the two pretty girls without being attracted by them?--At all events this much is certain that when, on rare occasions, they appeared in the dessa Ajo, where they had no fear of being recognised, the young men of the village would cast many a tender look upon them--sometimes even a kindly word was whispered as they passed. All this the girls mightily enjoyed, and they had many a hearty laugh over the love-lorn looks of the village swains. One day Dalima merrily said to her young mistress: "If they only knew that they were casting sheeps' eyes at a resident's daughter, wouldn't they fly back in terror?" "Hush, Dalima, do not mention such a thing again," said Anna very seriously. "You ought to know that I dislike any such allusions. I am no longer a resident's daughter!" But, when she perceived that her scolding tone of voice really grieved her companion, she continued with a pleasant smile: "As if the young men of Ajo ever gave me a look!" "But, Nana," asked Dalima, "whom do they look at then?" "They have evidently taken a fancy to one of us," replied Anna, "but it is certainly not to me; I can see that plainly enough. All those smiles and sweet little whispers are for you, Dalima." "How can you talk such nonsense!" said Dalima half-crossly. "I am only telling you the truth, Dalima." "Have you ever noticed Kjahi Wangsa, Nana? He has no eyes but for you." "No, no, Dalima, for you." "No, for you, Nana!" And so the girls would run on almost daily, and on such occasions it would have been hard to say who had the last word. One day, as they were thus merrily talking, Anna said to her friend: "What if it were the Kjahi who gave us that fright the other day?" "What do you mean, Nana?" "I mean that it might have been that booby watching us." "There is not the least fear of that," replied Dalima, "he would never have dared to do such a thing. Not one of the young fellows are bold enough for that--he, least of all." "Not much boldness required for that," laughed Anna, "to play the spy on two young girls!" "Well, I tell you, he would not have dared to do it. But you need not trouble yourself, there was no one there at all. You know how long we kept looking about and, though we had a view of the path for a long way to the right and left, we saw not a single soul." "Yet," rejoined Anna, "it seems to me a very mysterious thing." "If there were anybody there at all," continued Dalima, "it must have been a white man." "A white man, Dalima!" "Yes, it is now so long ago that I do not mind telling you all about it. A few days earlier it would only have made you nervous. The evening before we were frightened by the fall of that stone, a white man arrived at Ajo, and passed the night in the loerah's house." "Dalima!" cried Anna, in dismay, "who was he?" "I can't tell you, Nana. I have tried hard enough to find out; but I have discovered nothing further than that he busied himself with butterfly catching. Pah!" We may mention here that the natives of Java are, as a rule, afraid of butterflies. They fancy that the dust from their wings produces violent itching and even leprosy. Hence Dalima's exclamation of disgust. "Did you see him, Dalima?" continued Anna, "did he see you?" "Well, no, Nana, I did not. In fact next morning he started before daybreak. The last that was seen of him was at Pringtoetoel, he was then going in an easterly direction." "Why did you not tell me this at once?" asked Anna. "Why should I have done so? It would only have disturbed you for nothing. What was the use of troubling you to no purpose?" For a few moments the girls spoke not a word. Dalima, who was beginning to fear that Anna was really displeased, at length broke the silence and said: "You are not angry with me, Nana?" "Angry? no, Dalima." "What makes you look so serious then?" "I wish we could move to some other place," sighed Anna. "Move? why?" cried Dalima. "Yes, move away, further into the mountain, where the country is wilder and more lonely. Yonder close by the birds-nest grots. I wish I could retreat into one of those caves!" "What are you thinking about, Nana?" cried Dalima, growing seriously alarmed at her friend's words. "Oh, I have some kind of presentiment that Charles is on my track," sighed Anna. "He ought to have been here before this," remarked the baboe with something very like scorn in her voice. "A Javanese," she continued, "would have found you out long ago." "How about Ardjan then?" asked Anna. "Ardjan!" cried Dalima sadly, "Ardjan is a convict, he has run away, Allah only knows where he is and what he is about. Moreover, I am no longer his betrothed. To him I am nothing more than a poor fallen girl!" Both again were silent for some time, each absorbed in her own thoughts. Anna was sorry that she had touched so sensitive a chord; but it was Dalima who continued: "But even if it were so, if the young judge really were on your track--" "Oh! don't speak so," cried Anna, "the very thought fills me with terror. If I could think that possible I would start off at once." "But what can you have against him?" persisted the baboe. "No more of this, Dalima!" "Have you ceased to love him then? Have you cast him out of your heart?" "Don't speak so!" cried Anna in the greatest excitement; "not love him? Oh! if that were true! Cast him out of my heart! Not a day, not an hour, not a minute passes without my thinking of him!" "Well then," continued the simple Javanese girl, "why be so cruel?" "Be silent, Dalima!" "Can you not feel how wretched you are making him, Nana?" "Oh! I pray you, pray do not say another word. Never, never can I be his--no--nor any other man's wife." Dalima looked up at her with a puzzled expression. It would not be easy perhaps to say exactly what was passing in her mind. On her face there was a look of astonishment mingled with vexation; in her eyes one might read: "What funny whims those white folk have! How miserable they make their lives!" After a little while she was about to renew the conversation, she was in the act of opening her mouth to do so, when, just at that moment, the nènèh entered the gallery where the two girls were sitting. She had been down to the dessa to make some purchases, and now came in to give an account of what she had bought and of the money she had spent. Her entry created a diversion; but, when the old woman began to open her budget of news, she caused the greatest consternation. She told the girls that three Europeans had arrived at the dessa and had taken up their quarters in the loerah's house. "Three Europeans?" cried Anna, pale with terror. "Yes, Nana," replied the nènèh, who, thinking that she was speaking to a countrywoman of her own, always followed Dalima's example and addressed the Resident's daughter as "Nana." "Did you see them, nèh?" asked Dalima. "No," said the old woman. "Could you find out what business they have in the village?" "Some say one thing, some another," was the reply. "I have heard it said that they are railway people who are out on a shooting expedition. I think it very likely, for they have guns with them. Another man told me they are after snakes. Well they can catch enough of them here. As I was coming along just now I saw a deadly snake. Luckily I caught sight of the beast or else I might have trodden on it, and then it would have been all up with me. A third report is that the gentlemen have come to visit the birds-nest caves." "Did you hear anything else?" "No, Nana; but why do you look so strange? There is nothing whatever to be frightened at--those white men never hurt anybody. Look--there they are--coming up the path!" Anna gave one look in the direction to which the nènèh pointed. She uttered a shriek and catching up a slendang which she flung over her head she rushed from the house. Dalima, who also had recognised van Nerekool among the party, followed her mistress and both flew as fast as their feet would carry them up the pathway which ran in the opposite direction to the south of the Poleng range. The three men could see two female forms leaving the hut and rushing up the slope over against them. "There she goes!" exclaimed Murowski. "Anna! Anna!" cried van Nerekool in heartrending accents; but it was in vain. That moment the two girls disappeared in a sudden bend of the mountain path. And now, before coming to the closing scene of our story, we must here cast another look backward. Van Nerekool and Grenits had started, as we heard just now, in a carriage from Santjoemeh on their way to Wonosobo. From thence they had pursued their journey on horseback. They had no time, they had no inclination, to admire the beauty of the sublime scenery through which they passed. Whenever Grenits tried to rouse his companion and awaken in him some interest in the glories that surrounded them, the latter might cast a furtive glance around, but it was only to cry immediately after: "Let us get on, Theodoor, let us get on!" Before setting out on their journey, they had telegraphed to Murowski, and they found that medical officer quite ready to accompany them. His colleague was still staying at Gombong and our Pole therefore found but little difficulty in getting his leave of absence prolonged for four or five days. The travellers, however, did not arrive at Gombong until pretty late in the day. They were tired out with their long ride and felt that they must put off further operations to the morrow. Of that compulsory delay they made the best use they could by calling upon the commandant of the place to pay their respects to him. "If you three are going on the campaign!" exclaimed the kind-hearted soldier, "I advise the butterflies and the beetles to keep a pretty sharp look-out. There will be slaughter on the hills to-morrow. I hope you have a good supply of corks and pins for the poor prisoners. However, I wish you success." But while they sat chatting with the commandant and with his wife and enjoying a cool glass of beer in the verandah, a servant brought in a telegram. It was addressed to Murowski. He took it from the man. "Will you allow me?" said he, looking towards the lady of the house. "Of course, of course," said she, "no ceremony required for telegrams. Open it at once; perhaps it is about some patient. I only hope it will not interfere with your expedition." Murowski tore open the envelope and glanced at the signature. "It is from van Rheijn," said he to his friends-- "Great God!" he continued, "what have we here?" "What is the matter? What is it?" exclaimed all in a breath. "Tell van Nerekool," he read, "that Resident van Gulpendam and his wife have been murdered by a band of ketjoes. Further particulars by letter!" For some seconds all present sat dumb with amazement and horror. Then van Nerekool sprang to his feet, he snatched the telegram from Murowski's hand, and held it up to the light of the lamp. He rubbed his eyes as if he could not trust his senses: "Aye!" he exclaimed at length--"true, too true!" "Is Mr. van Nerekool related to those poor people?" asked the captain's wife, who was struck by the ghastly pallor of the young judge's face. "Pardon me, madam," said Grenits, "we happened to leave Santjoemeh at the same time as the family van Gulpendam. The mere thought of so terrible a murder perpetrated on friends, whom we but lately left in the full glow of health and spirits, fills us with horror." The lady nodded assent. "It is indeed terrible!" she murmured. "My friends," said van Nerekool, turning to Murowski and Grenits, "I fear our expedition will have to be deferred for a few hours. Under these terrible circumstances I feel it my duty to go at once and see Mrs. Steenvlak. How far is it from here to Karang Anjer, captain?" "About six pals, Mr. van Nerekool," replied the soldier. "Is it as much as that? Could you manage to get me a horse?" "My own horse is at your disposal," said the captain. "What do you intend to do?" "I must at once ride off to Karang Anjer. It is now about seven o'clock. Before eight I can be there. To-morrow morning before daybreak I shall be off again, and at six I hope to be back here to resume our journey to Karang Bollong. You need not fear, captain, I shall see that your horse is well cared for." "I am not at all afraid of that," replied the captain. "He will find an excellent stable at the Steenvlaks." Then he rose and went to give the necessary orders to get the horse saddled. "Miss van Gulpendam was staying: with the Steenvlaks--" said the lady of the house, her curiosity thoroughly aroused at this sudden resolution on the part of van Nerekool. "You are right, madam" replied Murowski. "You see it is very probable that Mr. Steenvlak may know where the young lady is to be found, and we might then break the sad news gently to her." Meanwhile Grenits had been asking van Nerekool what he intended to do. "She cannot now refuse to give me a few words to Anna," was his reply. "In such terrible circumstances a true friend's advice may be of the greatest value. Do you not approve of my plan?" Theodoor merely nodded assent while he warmly pressed his friend's hand. Ten minutes later van Nerekool was in the saddle and was galloping along the road to Karang Anjer. When he arrived there he found the Steenvlaks had already been informed of the terrible event; for the Assistant Resident also had received a telegram from Santjoemeh. CHAPTER XLI. THE OUTLAWS AT SOEKA MANIESAN. FEARFUL RETRIBUTION. Yes! the terrible news was true--it was but too true--! When the van Gulpendams arrived at Soeka maniesan, the proprietor of that sugar-factory could not help admitting that lately all symptoms of disturbance had disappeared. He had caused the woods, in which the supposed seditious meetings were held, to be carefully watched; but he had not been able to discover in them a single human being. Thus, he had come to the conclusion, that either his former information had been altogether false, or else that the mutinous spirits had removed to some other part of the country. Resident van Gulpendam, on his arrival, summoned the Assistant Resident of the district of which Soeka maniesan was an outlying station, and he also called before him the Regent and the Wedonos of the place; but he could not extract anything out of them which might awaken so much as a suspicion of danger. Very much the other way! All these authorities declared that the most profound calm and content prevailed throughout the district, though the Regent was fain to admit that there was a great deal of poverty and distress about. "Indeed!" said the Resident; "and what may be the cause of this sad state of things, Radhen Adipattie?" The Javanese chief shook his head dubiously, he did not at all like answering that question. As he stood there hesitating, van Gulpendam asked: "Do the landowners pay the labourers reasonably well?" "Oh, yes, kandjeng toean." "Perhaps the rice harvest has failed or has not, this season, produced as much as usual?" "No, no, kandjeng toean, the harvest has been especially good and abundant this year. The men have brought home many bundles of rice to the common barn." "What then may be the cause of the distress you speak of, Radhen Adipattie?" asked the Resident. "I do not know," replied the Javanese chief with a sigh. The truth was, that he knew it well enough; but that he did not dare to speak out. He knew equally well that if he told the whole truth he would incur the displeasure of the Resident. He knew that the barns were empty. The harvest had been plentiful indeed; but very little of the crop had found its way to the barns. The fact is, that the Javanese is a mere grown-up child. He had simply squandered away his produce while it was yet standing unripe in the fields. To lay his hands upon a little ready cash, he had sold his rice, long before it was cut, to the Chinese money-lenders. And the money thus obtained, at a ruinous sacrifice of course, had speedily found its way to the opium-den, to the gambling-booth and to the pawn-shop. It had been swallowed up by that august Trinity which is the chief source of Dutch revenue. No, no! the Regent was too prudent a man to put his thoughts into words, he cast a look of awe upon the big cross which glittered on the Resident's breast and, with another sigh, he said again: "I cannot tell, kandjeng toean." The Resident was perfectly satisfied with the result of his investigation, and declared that he would occupy no other rooms than those in the outbuildings. He professed himself quite contented with the ordinary visitors' quarters. "But, Resident," persisted the proprietor, "your apartments in the house are all ready for you." "My worthy friend," said van Gulpendam, "I won't hear of any such thing. I intend to prove to you that I am perfectly satisfied as to the state of the country, and, in the out-buildings I shall sleep as securely and as soundly as you in your house." From this resolution no arguments could move him. And, indeed, it seemed that he was perfectly right. The reports which came in from all quarters were so reassuring, that the owner of the factory Soeka maniesan himself was beginning to incline to the opinion that he must have been deceived. The first night which the Resident and his wife passed in their apartments, was as quiet as any night could possibly be, and they enjoyed the most delightful rest. The next day was spent in a minute survey of the sugar-factory although it was rather late in the season, and the yearly campaign was about to close. In the afternoon they took a pleasant walk, in the course of which both Mr. and Mrs. van Gulpendam were delighted at the very great respect which was paid them by every class of natives they happened to meet. Not that such homage was strange to them, quite the contrary; for, while he was only a controller, van Gulpendam had exacted that every native whom he encountered on the way should squat down and make a respectful sembah, and that every woman should turn away her face, which is the usual way of showing deference. But here, all these things were done by the natives with such evident signs of deep humility--the country people were evidently so overawed at the sight of their august visitors--that both the Resident and Laurentia were delighted at so much submission. No, no, in these parts there could be not the smallest ground for apprehension; van Gulpendam thought he knew quite enough of the native character to make sure of that. The evening also was passed most pleasantly. The owner of Soeka maniesan had invited the principal families of the neighbourhood to meet the Resident; and these had, of course, eagerly, accepted the invitation. The gentlemen, and some of the ladies too, sat down to a quiet game at cards, and those who did not play, passed the time pleasantly enough with music and social conversation. If some remnants of uneasiness could yet have lingered in the Resident's mind, the placid landscape which lay stretched out before him must have dissipated all such vague apprehensions. The moon stood high in the heavens and shed her calm quiet light over the scene. A cool breeze was rustling in the leaves of the splendid trees by which the entire building was surrounded. In fact, everything breathed the most profound peace, that serene quiet which makes tropical nights above all things delicious. Thus the evening passed in quiet enjoyment, and the hour of midnight had struck before the carriages came rumbling up to take the visitors home. When the guests had taken their departure, and the inmates of the house were preparing to retire to rest, one of the overseers came in and reported that some fellow had been seen sneaking about behind the garden hedge. "Some thief, probably," said the man carelessly, as if such a thing was a not at all unusual occurrence. "Come," said the proprietor, "let us go and have a look round." As he said these words, he took down his gun, and offered the Resident a weapon of the same description. Van Gulpendam however, with a wave of his hand, declined to take it. The two gentlemen, accompanied by the overseer, walked out into the grounds; while the ladies retired to their bedrooms. As we have already said, the weather was beautifully warm and clear. The two European gentlemen strolled about but could discover nothing to breed suspicion. The cool night-air induced them somewhat to extend their walk. They got outside the grounds and entered the fields of sugar-cane which adjoined the property, in which the canes had already been partially gathered. The cane which had been cut had been carried away to the factory; but a considerable part of the field was still occupied by the tall stems awaiting the hand of the reaper. Here and there in the field were big heaps of dry leaves which had been stripped from the cane and were destined presently to be carried to the factory to serve as fuel. The proprietor of Soeka maniesan was a thoroughly practical sugar manufacturer, a man who knew all the ins and outs of his trade; and Mr. van Gulpendam, who, while he occupied inferior positions in the interior of the island, had been brought much into contact with that industry, prided himself upon being pretty well up in the subject also. Thus between these two experts, the conversation never once flagged. Followed at a respectful distance by the overseer, the gentlemen strolled leisurely along discussing the various kinds of cane which were grown on the plantation. Van Gulpendam would have it, that the light yellow cane contained the greatest amount of saccharine matter, while the other declared, quite as positively, that his long experience had taught him that the dark brown cane was the more profitable to grow. Both gentlemen stuck to their opinion, and the discussion was growing somewhat lively; when--suddenly--a yell was heard, and a number of men with blackened faces and armed with clubs, sprang up from behind one of the heaps of leaves and made a rush straight at the two Europeans. Startled at this sudden apparition, the Resident and his host took to flight; but they had time to run only a very few paces, before the nimble-footed Javanese had caught up the proprietor of the factory and felled him to the ground with a single blow, before he could so much as get his gun up to his shoulder. The Resident they did not overtake until he had got within the grounds; but, instead of striking at him, the men seized him, flung him down to the ground and securely bound him. What had meanwhile become of the overseer was a mystery. Very likely he had thrown himself down and was crouching behind a heap of leaves; or, perhaps, he was hiding behind some bushes. As van Gulpendam was being bound, he could see a dozen of the men rushing off in the direction of the wing in which was situated his wife's bedroom. He would have cried out for help; but a powerful hand drove into his mouth a gag made of an old rag and prevented him from uttering a sound. He could see that the attacking party first attempted to open the door; but, finding it locked and fast bolted, dashed it from its hinges with their clubs. Then the whole party rushed in and cries of terror arose from the interior--then, suddenly, came one terrible shriek of agony--and all was still again--. This had taken place so rapidly, that the din made by the battering in of the door only startled some inmates of the house and the men who, during the night, had to attend to the steam-engines in the factory. Long before anyone could come to the rescue, the attacking party had returned to their comrades, who mounted guard over van Gulpendam. Then, one of them without attempting to disguise his voice, said: "Come, make haste, let us get along, the horses are waiting for us in the cane-field." "Is the lady dead?" asked one of the men as coolly as possible. "Dead!" was the reply, in a voice which trembled with revengeful passion. "Come, pick up that white pig, or else all the factory men will be upon us and I shall have to kris the dog; that would be a pity." At the words, a couple of bamboo poles were thrust under the arms and legs of poor van Gulpendam. "I am the kandjeng toean Resident!" he tried to say. Whether the words were understood or not is doubtful; but the only result of the effort was a furious blow in the mouth which drove the foul gag further home. "March!" said the leader. Four Javanese thereupon took up the bamboo poles on their shoulders and trotted off with their burden. The sufferer groaned with the intense pain caused by the jolting; but his lamentations were not heard, or if they were, no one paid the slightest heed to his distress. Close outside the factory grounds stood half-a-dozen horses saddled and all ready to start. Upon one of these van Gulpendam was tightly strapped, then some of the men mounted the other animals and the troop was ready to move on. "To the 'djaga monjet!'" cried one of the horsemen to those whom he left behind. "Yes, yes!" eagerly cried the others. As soon as the mounted men had disappeared with their prisoner, the party which was left behind set fire to the sugar-canes. The reedy stems burned fiercely and soon the dreadful roar of the flames was mingled with the sharp crackling of the canes. Under cover of these flames and of the smoke, the party were enabled to make good their escape; and it was not until then that the big gong of the factory began to sound the alarm. While this seizure was taking place at Soeka maniesan, another surprise of the same kind was being carried out with equal success in another quarter. About six pals from the town of Santjoemeh there stood a quaint looking building, hidden away very pleasantly amid charming scenery in the bends of the rising ground. Had the house been built in anything like Swiss or Italian style, it might have been called a chalet or a villa; but the order of its architecture was so distinctly Mongolian that no mistake could be made as to its origin. It was, in fact, a Chinese pavilion which lately had become the property of Lim Ho the son of the opium factor at Santjoemeh. If anyone had fondly hoped that, after his marriage, our babah would have settled down and become somewhat less irregular in his habits, a single peep into the interior of that pavilion must have dispersed all such pleasant illusions. That small building, situated there in so charming and lonely a spot was, in fact, nothing else than a trap into which the licentious young Chinaman was wont to decoy the victims of his lust and was enabled to ensure their ruin. The apartments of the pavilion were all furnished regardless of cost and in the most sumptuous Asiatic style. In every room there were luxurious divans and on every wall hung pictures which might be valuable, perhaps, as works of art, but the subjects of which were sensual and immoral to the lowest degree. On that same night in which the attack was made upon Soeka maniesan, that Chinese pavilion also was surprised. Here the attempt succeeded even more easily than that on the sugar plantation. Lim Ho had that evening left his house in Santjoemeh and was sitting in his pavilion impatiently awaiting for some poor creature who had aroused his passions, and whom his agents had promised to bring him. He had with him only two Chinese servants, fellows who neither would nor could offer the faintest resistance. About midnight, a knock was heard at the door. It was a low faint knock, and the babah, in a fever of expectation, and thinking it was the pigeon which had been decoyed to his den, gave the word at once to open the door. No sooner, however, had the bolts been drawn and the key turned in the lock, than half-a-dozen men with blackened faces and armed to the teeth sprang in. Lim Ho, true to the cowardly nature of his race, turned pale as death but never for an instant thought of resistance. He glanced round nervously to see whether any way of escape lay open to him; but when he saw both doors occupied and guarded by the attacking party, he tried, in his unmanly terror, to hide himself by creeping under one of the divans. In a very few minutes, however, he was dragged out of that hiding place and was securely bound, strapped to a horse and carried off. Here again, just as at Soeka maniesan, the attacking party left everything untouched. They did not lay a finger on any of the articles of value which lay scattered about; but they confined themselves strictly to the murder of Mrs. van Gulpendam and to the capture of the Resident and of the opium farmer's son. The proprietor of the sugar factory had, it is true, been knocked down by a blow of one of their clubs; but that blow had not been struck wantonly. It was inflicted simply as a precaution and in self-defence; for the man would undoubtedly have run off and spread the alarm. He would have roused his factory hands and caused the whole plot to fail, and he would immediately have started in pursuit of the raiders. That had to be guarded against at all hazards. But the blow did not prove deadly or even dangerous. As soon as the first excitement, consequent upon the discovery of Laurentia's murder, had somewhat subsided, a band of men had sallied forth to put out the fire in the fields, and then the owner of the factory was discovered lying insensible just outside his own grounds. At first they thought he was dead; for he was quite unconscious. They carried him into the house, and then his wife soon found out that her husband, though stunned by a severe blow, was neither wounded nor materially injured. Every effort was made to restore him, and after some time, he recovered his senses. The day had dawned before the police had arrived at Soeka maniesan and began to make their inquiries. There and then a careful examination was held of the entire staff employed on the factory--every single individual being submitted to a rigorous interrogatory; but no clue was found which could lead to the detection of the perpetrators of this daring outrage. Just outside the yet smouldering cane-fields, were found the tracks of horses; but that led to no result for the weather had for a long time been very dry and the morning breeze had covered all further tracks with a thick layer of fine dust. Thus there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to indicate the direction the horsemen might have taken. The proprietor himself, poor fellow, could not give the slightest information. All he knew was that, as he was quietly walking about engaged in argument with the Resident, a number of fellows with blackened faces had started up from behind one of the tall piles of leaves, that he had attempted to run away, but had been overtaken and had received a blow on the head which stunned him. Of what had taken place after that he, of course, knew nothing whatever. The overseer's story was, if possible, still more unsatisfactory. He said that the instant he saw the threatening forms appearing from behind the heap of dadoe, he had flung himself down flat upon the ground and then crept under another heap of leaves; and that he had not ventured to stir out of that hiding place until he heard the crackling of the canes and began to fear that the leaves which covered him might be attacked by the flames. While in this state of terror and suspense, he had seen nothing and had heard nothing. Now, the question was: where were they to look for Resident van Gulpendam? The police were at their wits' end. The whole district of Santjoemeh was, naturally enough, in the greatest excitement; and universal horror prevailed at the terrible fate which, in all probability, had overtaken the chief of the district. But do what they could, and search where they would, not a trace of the criminals could be discovered, not a single gleam of light could be cast upon the impenetrable mystery. For a day or two this state of suspense endured until a fisherman, as he was trying to get his boat into the Moeara Tjatjing, caught sight of the naked body of a European floating just outside the surf. He made for it and drew it into his boat and then took it to the loerah of Kaligaweh which was the nearest dessa. Had this simple Javanese fisherman only known that it was the body of the kandjeng toean, he would no doubt have turned away his head and quietly said to his mates: "Let Allah's justice float by undisturbed." Had he been able to foresee what troubles he was bringing upon himself by raising that corpse from its watery grave, he would have taken good care not to touch it. The alligators would, no doubt, soon enough have provided for its burial. As it was, the loerah of the dessa began by locking up the poor fellow. Then he had to submit to endless examinations by the wedono, by the pattih, by the regent, by the controller, by the assistant resident, by the public prosecutor. All these authorities were most eager in the matter; and thought that, in this poor man, they held in their hands a clue to the mysterious drama enacted at Soeka maniesan. Thus they vied with one another in badgering the poor devil, until they drove him to desperation, and he at length was forced to declare that he was light-headed and of weak intellect. The body was readily identified as that of Resident van Gulpendam. There could be no doubt about that; for the features were almost intact. But all the parts which the sea-monsters had spared appeared extremely inflamed and swollen; and it was evident that the unhappy man must have died under an extremity of torture, though there was nothing to show that any knife or sharp instrument had caused his death. What then had been his fate? "To the 'djaga monjet!'" Yes! It was indeed to that very same dismal hut in the mangrove swamp by the Moeara Tjatjing, to which we introduced our readers in our first chapters, that the band of horsemen was now riding at full speed. They carefully avoided all the dessas which lay on the road, a thing which they could easily do as they were perfectly acquainted with all the bye-paths. They shunned even the guard-houses, not being certain that the watchmen stationed there could be implicitly trusted. Thus, without let or hindrance, the little troop rode on, and the day was just beginning to break when they reached the mangrove wood, in which the "djaga monjet" was situated. When they carried van Gulpendam, still bound hand and foot, into the hut, they found Lim Ho there. He had been brought in some time before, and was lying stretched out at full length upon the wretched flooring. He also was bound so tightly that he could not move hand or foot. At a signal from a tall, slim Javanese, who appeared to be the leader of the band, the cords which bound the unhappy prisoners were loosened, and the gags were removed from their mouths. Around them stood about twenty Javanese, all unrecognisable, with blackened faces and fully armed. The Chinaman uttered not a word, he seemed prostrate with terror. The sudden shock appeared to have annihilated him. But, as soon as the European felt that he was free, he stretched his limbs, and in a voice of conscious dignity he said: "Are you aware that I am the kandjeng toean Resident?" "Yes, kandjeng toean," replied the leader in a tone of mock humility. "It is but a few days ago," continued van Gulpendam, "that the kandjeng toean Radja honoured me with a particular mark of his high favour." As he spoke these words he pointed haughtily to the huge cross which still was hanging sparkling on the breast of his light-blue resident's frock. "Yes, kandjeng toean!" repeated the leader, while all his men made the sembah in token of deep respect. "Government will exact the most terrible punishment should you hurt so much as a hair of my head!" A mocking laugh was the answer to that speech. Twenty men grasped the handles of their krises; but at a wave from the leader's hand, all kept silence, and not a single word was spoken, not a single blade was drawn. "Before Government will be able to punish," rejoined the Javanese quietly, "you will both be dead men." "Dead!" exclaimed Lim Ho in a voice husky with terror. "Dead?" cried van Gulpendam. "No, no, you dare not do that! My death would be too fearfully avenged!" "Both of you, I said--" resumed the leader with perfect coolness, "I said both of you deserve to die. We have passed sentence upon you. That sentence must be carried out--after that, they may do with us what they will--I mean, of course, if they can lay hands upon us." "But," cried Lim Ho, half mad with terror, "what have I done?" "You ask me what you have done? Well, I will tell you. In this very hut, you inflicted upon a man, whose only fault was that he loved, and intended to marry, a girl upon whom you had cast your lustful eyes, the most atrocious torture. You ask what you have done? That same young girl you contrived, with the assistance of the njonja of yonder wretch, to get into your possession, you outraged her most brutally, and then, when you had worked your foul will upon her, you cast her off and accused her of opium smuggling." Lim Ho's face grew ashy-pale as he heard these terrible words, he began to understand into whose hands he had fallen. Van Gulpendam thought that he ought still to keep up his proud and dignified bearing. He could not bring himself to believe that a mere Javanese would dare to raise his hand against his august person, against the kandjeng toean. But yet he thought it advisable to speak in a somewhat conciliatory tone. "If what you have just now said be true," he began, "then certainly Lim Ho deserves severe punishment, and I pledge you my word that I will exert my authority to see that his punishment shall be proportioned to his offence; but what have I done that you dare to treat me thus?" "You, you, kandjeng toean!" vehemently broke in the leader, in a voice which seemed fairly to hiss with rage, "you have made the offences, as you call them, of this Chinese dog possible. You have had the man, of whom I just now spoke, cast into a dungeon, you condemned him to the most barbarous punishment, knowing all the while that he was innocent. And all this you have done merely in order that you might screen the smuggling trade of that scoundrel. You supplied the opium-farmer with the means of preventing that girl's father from defending his own child against the brutality of yon beastly Chinaman. Do you still ask me what you have done? Why, you and your wife are guilty of all I have said--and you and your wife deserve to die. Part of our sentence has already been carried out, and, believe me, it will be fully executed." "Wha--! What? Partly carried out you said?" gasped van Gulpendam. "My wife--!" The leader turned to one of his followers: "Tell the kandjeng toean what has become of the njonja." "The njonja is dead!" was the brief reply. "Yes!" shouted the leader wildly, "the njonja is dead! We had mercy upon her, one single stab put an end to her accursed life. Look here--those spots on my kris--they are her blood!" "That shriek I heard?" cried van Gulpendam. "Was the last sound she will ever utter in this world. But," continued the Javanese, still carried away by his passion, "do not for a moment flatter yourself that we will deal thus mercifully with you. Upon a woman we could have compassion. But you! Oh yes, you shall suffer! You shall feel something of the tortures you are so ready to inflict upon others!" Even then van Gulpendam retained something of his fortitude and haughty bearing, and he said: "I bid you beware of the punishing hand of the Dutch Government, it will know how to avenge me." "I am prepared to brave any peril, if only I have my revenge," said the Javanese. "Upon you I am determined to execute justice!" "Justice, justice!" cried van Gulpendam, "and who are you that you dare to prate about justice, even while you are planning sedition and preparing for murder? Tell me who are you?" "Who I am? Well, you shall know!" In a corner of that wretched cabin stood a tub filled with water. The Javanese took up the cocoa-nut scoop which hung by it and washed his face. "Now do you recognise me?" he cried, as he drew himself up to his full height before his prisoners. "Ardjan!" sighed Lim Ho. "Ardjan!" cried van Gulpendam as thoroughly dismayed as was his companion in misfortune. Both of them now plainly saw that they were reserved for some dreadful death. The account which each had to settle with that young man was a heavy one indeed. "Have mercy! Have mercy upon us!" they cried as they fell down on their knees before him, their teeth chattering with terror as they knelt at his feet. "Mercy?" almost shrieked Ardjan. "What mercy did you show poor Dalima and old Setrosmito? Come, speak up, will you? What mercy did you show to me and to my old father? Dalima violated! My father and I locked up for months in a loathsome prison, and then, sentenced--by your very mouth--to years of penal servitude-- And now you ask me to have mercy? If I could feel pity then indeed you might call me the veriest blockhead in the world. But," continued the Javanese, after a moment's pause, "tell me, supposing I could feel pity, supposing I were to set you free, tell me, kandjeng toean, what would you do then?" These words were spoken in a much milder tone, it seemed as if Ardjan were wavering, and, in that hesitation, the unfortunate European thought he could see a faint gleam of hope. Trembling with fear, he raised himself on his knees, and, wringing his hands in agony, he cried, while big tears went coursing down his cheeks: "Oh, do not fear. You shall have full pardon--free pardon--I have power with the Government and I can induce them to forgive all. The great lord at Batavia will grant me my request. All the injustice which has been done shall be amply made good. You shall have compensation--I will see to it I will pay it out of my own purse--! All that has happened shall be made good, believe me!" "Dalima's injuries also?" asked a hoarse croaking voice from behind Ardjan. "Those white fellows seem to think they are almighty, or else they fancy that we Javanese are the greatest fools in the world!" That name of Dalima and these few scornful words seemed to rouse Ardjan out of the fit of weakness which appeared for a moment to have come over him. He shook his head violently as if he wished to drive out some unwelcome thoughts, at that movement his head-cloth became loosened and his long black hair streamed fiercely and wildly over his shoulders. "No! no!" he exclaimed, "no pity, no mercy. Now I have you in my power, you are crawling and cringing at my feet as mean and as cowardly as the vilest beasts. Did you ever see a Javanese so degrade himself? Did you ever see a native act so meanly, even when pleading for his life? You have sent plenty of them to the gallows, and you ought to know how a coloured man can die. Pity! mercy! Ha! ha! ha! You are ready enough now with your promises; but in your hearts you are, even now, scheming how you may evade them and break them. Trust a white man's word!--ha! ha! ha! As if we don't know all about that. Whenever did a white man keep his promise to us Javanese? Whenever--" Here one of the men whispered something into Ardjan's ear. "Yes, yes, you are right, let us cut it short. No, no--no pity, far from it. You shall have a painful, a cruel death. I had made up my mind to give you the most terrible--the 'hoekoem madoe--'" Lim Ho uttered a fearful yell at these terrible words. "Mercy! mercy!" he moaned. "--But that would take too much time," continued Ardjan, who had by this time regained his composure. "We might get the police upon us before you were quite finished and that would spoil the game-- No, I have given up that idea. You shall undergo the 'hoekoem kamadoog.' The same punishment, you remember, Lim Ho, that you gave me; and yet I had committed no fault whatever, and the kandjeng toean there thought it right to leave your outrageous crime unpunished. No, you must not be able to say that I am more barbarous than you." "Mercy! Mercy!" cried both the wretched men. "No! no! no pity!" rejoined Ardjan. Then, with a signal to one of his mates, he continued: "Strip them and take them outside!" That order was carried out literally and in a very few minutes. The fine light-blue coat was rent from the Resident's back, his trousers followed and his shirt; and torn to ribbons they soon lay on the dirty floor of the cabin--even the Virtus nobilitat was trampled under foot. Lim Ho underwent the same rough operation, and then both men stood there naked before their pitiless judges. Then their hands were tied behind their backs and the wretched creatures were simply pitched down the rude steps. Ardjan reminded Lim Ho of the glorious fun he had eight months ago when the two Chinamen and himself were similarly treated. "You remember," he laughed, "how Than Khan and Liem King tumbled down from top to bottom? It was fine sport to you then!" It took but a few moments to tie up the two victims to the Niboeng-palms, which grew in front of the hut--to the very trees to which the two Chinamen and Ardjan himself had been fastened. "The kandjeng toean to that tree," said Ardjan, pointing to the stem at which he had himself suffered. "Pardon! Pity!" the poor victims kept crying incessantly. No one heeded their agonising yells. When they were tied up--Ardjan gave the word: "Now, my lads, give way!" Four men stepped forward each armed with a bunch of the formidable nettle, and the blows began to fall like rain upon the bare limbs of the wretched victims. Wherever the leaves fell the flesh seemed to shrink away in agony. The Chinaman bit his under-lip until the teeth met in the flesh, but he did not utter a single moan. At first van Gulpendam strove to follow his example; but he had not the tough resolution of an Asiatic in this supreme moment. He could not restrain himself. First he moaned, then he whimpered, he cried aloud in his misery, he howled, he yelled with pain. Nothing could touch his ruthless executioners. "Pardon! mercy!" he cried. "Oh, I beg for mercy!" But, in reply to his piteous cries, came the words: "Dalima! Ardjan! Pak Ardjan! Setrosmito!" And then upon the brain of the unhappy Resident there flashed another name, a name more terrible to him perhaps than all the others: "Meidema, Meidema! pardon, mercy!" he kept on wailing in a voice which told of the most exquisite torture. But gradually his cries grew weaker, at length they became hardly intelligible--they gurgled like a hoarse and dying rattle in the throat. The pain was beyond endurance. Still the men kept plying their deadly nettle. At length his head began to dangle helplessly, and it seemed as if the unfortunate sufferer had lost consciousness. Lim Ho had been fortunate enough to reach that state much earlier, and was thus sooner out of his misery. Ardjan stood by at the scene, glaring at his victims with revengeful eagerness. He clenched his fists convulsively, he had to exercise the greatest self-control to prevent himself from catching up one of the bunches of kamadoog leaves and having his blow at the wretched beings who had not scrupled to inflict the same barbarous treatment upon himself. No, no, he felt not the smallest grain of pity--he could think only of his own wrongs and his own happiness destroyed for ever. Even if the voice of pity could have spoken within him it would have been stifled by his father, who, standing close behind him, kept on whispering in his ear: "Dalima, Dalima!" For some time the two victims had been unconscious; but yet Ardjan did not think of putting a stop to the torture. At every blow, at every touch even of those terrible leaves the skin of the sufferers puckered up though the bodies no longer felt the pain. The muscles stretched, then ran up into knots and horrid spasms shot through the entire frames. Soon the bodies could no longer support themselves, but hung in the cords that bound them, limp as empty sacks. The eyes of the tortured men were closed; but every now and then they would spasmodically open for a moment, and would stare with a blood-shot stony gaze which betrayed the extreme suffering which even the senseless body was undergoing. In their dying agonies they flung their heads convulsively to and fro, dashing them up fearfully against the Niboeng palm while flecks of foam came flying from their lips. But, in this world everything must come to an end, and at length the protracted sufferings were over. Gradually the convulsive starts of the two bodies began to subside and finally ceased altogether. The soul had left its earthly tenement. Then Ardjan, in tones the most indifferent in the world, said, "Enough!" At the word, his men looked at him for further instructions. "Untie them," he said, and without speaking another word, he pointed to the sea. The instant the ropes were cut through, the bodies fell with a heavy thud to the ground. As he fell van Gulpendam for the last time opened his eyes and, very softly, but quite intelligibly he sighed forth the single word: "Meidema!" The thought of that unhappy family--of those good honest people whose ruin he had so craftily and cruelly planned, haunted that guilty soul even as it was taking its flight. With that name on his lips he expired. Lim Ho gave no sign of life. Both corpses were then dragged to the Kali Tjatjing and pitched into the water, and the stream quickly carried them out to the Java sea. In the far distance between the two headlands could be seen the schooner brig Kiem Ping Hin quietly riding at anchor and flying the British ensign. Faithful to her calling she was waiting for an opportunity to deliver her smuggled goods to the company Lim Yang Bing. CHAPTER XLII. IN THE GOEWAH TEMON. CONCLUSION. "Anna, Anna!" cried van Nerekool, and in that cry he cast his whole soul; but it was uttered in vain; for just then a sharp bend in the path caused the two girls to disappear behind a great mass of rock. When Charles, Murowski and Grenits reached the spot where they had caught this last glimpse of the fugitives, not a trace could be discovered of either of them. "Anna, Anna!" shouted Charles again and again at the top of his voice; but a beautifully distinct echo, reverberating from the opposite hills, seemed only to mock his cries. Our three friends, however, were now compelled to pause. They felt that they could go on no longer, and must stop awhile to regain breath. The exertion, indeed, had been very great; for that little path kept winding upward, ever upward, and the headlong speed with which they had rushed on made a short rest absolutely necessary. Charles, however, every now and then, repeated his cry of "Anna, Anna!" He thought that his voice might perhaps reach the girl and induce her to stop or to turn. But, no other response came to his anxious call, than that of the sportive echo which, sharply and clearly, flung back the two syllables, "Anna, Anna!" When they had rested awhile, and to some extent regained their strength and their wind, the three set off again in pursuit. They had to follow a road which led them along the most eccentric windings up hill and down dale. At one time the path would run sharply round some huge rock, at another it would follow the course of some erratic mountain-stream. Elsewhere again, it ran zigzagging down an almost perpendicular slope; but yet, on the whole, the ground was steadily rising and was evidently leading up to the lofty table-land which is bounded by the cliffs of the Goenoeng Poleng. Very frequently the road would run, for a while, abruptly downhill as it took them into the bottom of some wild ravine; but this, far from giving them rest, only increased the discomfort of travelling. For the sudden change of motion threatened to dislocate their already tired knees and then, every descent was immediately succeeded by a sharp and trying climb which put to tremendous proof the soundness and power of their lungs. But in spite of fatigue, the three men kept hurrying on. Van Nerekool's impatience would brook no delay. They panted, they caught their breath, they puffed and blew like grampuses; but still they kept on. As they turned every sharp bend in the road, they felt sure that they must catch sight of the fugitives; for certainly they could not have got very far ahead of them. Escape was utterly impossible; for there existed but the one path up the mountain, and that went twisting and turning through a country so wild and so rugged that no human being could leave the footpath either to the right or left. So they anxiously peered round all about them whenever they gained some spot which gave a command of the country; but look as they would, not a glimpse could they catch of either Anna or Dalima. At length the three men gained the top of the plateau, and they felt that, for a few moments, they must again sit down and rest. But yet, they could find no trace of the young girls they were so eagerly following. The road now no longer rose, it merely twisted in and out between huge boulders of rock, between hill tops, and around thick clumps of dwarf shrubs, and thus it offered no extensive view. "They cannot possibly be far ahead of us!" panted van Nerekool. "Let us get on, let us get on! We must be close upon them!" But in this the young man was mistaken--as a matter of fact the girls had really gained very considerably on their pursuers. In the first place, they had a considerable start when the chase began. They had been able to run nimbly along a path which was quite familiar to them, which they had indeed been accustomed to climb almost daily. Their knowledge of the country enabled them to make many a short cut with which the Europeans were unacquainted; and thus they had managed to avoid many a long bend and twist in the road. And lastly, extreme terror seemed to have lent Anna wings, and poor Dalima had been compelled, as best she might, to toil after her young mistress. When they reached the plateau, Anna kept on leading the way and hurrying in a southerly direction. She knew that the sea could not be far away; for the thunder of the breakers, which, for some time, had been audible in the distance as a hoarse murmur, now grew more distinct every moment; and as they sped on they could feel the very soil quivering under the terrific pounding of the mighty ocean on the perpendicular wall of rock. "Where are you running to, Nana?" panted Dalima. "Let us hurry on!" cried Anna impatiently, as she ran, casting behind her many an anxious look. "But, where are we going to, Nana?" "Why yonder!" cried Anna hurriedly as she pointed to the south. "But that way leads to the sea!" cried Dalima. "Just so," replied Anna, "and that is where I want to go." "What are we going to do there, Nana?" asked Dalima anxiously. "I know a hiding place where no one will find us or even go to look for us." "What? There, Nana?" "Yes, yes, do come along--try to make another effort--it cannot be far away!" "A hiding place?" repeated Dalima. "But, Nana, there is nothing over there but the bare rock." "Aye; but in those rocks there are holes!" cried Anna much excited. "The Goewahs!" exclaimed the baboe in utter dismay. Anna answered a few words which, however, Dalima did not catch. Darting on like a hind, the Resident's daughter had outstripped her companion. Dalima was naturally very strong and inured to fatigue and exertion; but her condition was beginning to tell upon her. The burden she had to bear and the rapid motion, had utterly exhausted her, and she felt her strength fast ebbing away. The blood began to flush up to her head, her temples throbbed, her eyes seemed covered as with a reddish film; and an insupportable feeling of weariness and listlessness pervaded her entire frame. Still she struggled on game to the last. Her breathing was getting thick and wheezy--she was, in fact, on the point of fainting altogether. But this little Javanese girl was endowed with a tough frame and an indomitable will; and, though almost exhausted, yet she struggled after her companion as mechanically she kept muttering to herself: "Forward! Forward!" Oh no! she could not, she would not leave her Nana in the hour of need. This painful progress went on for some time. At length, after they had turned round an immense boulder which seemed to form a barrier to the path, Anna stood still. Before her, in all its grandeur, lay stretched out the Indian Ocean; and from the height of about twelve hundred feet she could obtain a magnificent view of it. She cast one anxious look behind her. The position she now occupied commanded an extensive view of the path along which she had toiled up; but not a soul could she see stirring on it. Might the pursuit have been given up? It seemed improbable, yet it was possible. Might they have missed the road and gone off on some wrong track? Anna fancied, that every now and then, she had heard her name called out behind her; but that again might very well be the result of her over-wrought imagination. Again and again she eagerly scanned the horizon in all directions. But no, nothing, nothing was to be seen. Somewhat quieted she then turned her attention to poor Dalima, who, panting and moaning, had, by this time, come up to her, and then, almost senseless, had sunk to the ground. Anna sat down by her companion. She tried to cheer her up; she rubbed and kneaded, in native fashion, the muscles of her neck and shoulders, she patted her hands; in fact, she neglected nothing that the most anxious solicitude could suggest until she saw that Dalima had somewhat recovered from her prostration. As soon as she had succeeded in relieving her companion, Anna again gave an anxious nervous look behind her, but still she could perceive nothing. Then she walked forward resolutely to the edge of the slope which ran before her down to the sea. "Yes," said she, half aloud, "the ladder is still hanging there. I have heard a good many tales about the Goewah Temon. If it must be so--I shall fly there for refuge!" Then, once again, looking to the north, she continued: "But I hope I may not have to undertake that fearful journey--I can see nothing," she said with a sigh, "if Charles were really on my track, he must have appeared long before this on the table-land!" Therewith she turned her face full to the ocean. Though she was disguised in Javanese dress, yet she was, and always would remain, a child of the West; that is to say, her eyes were open to the glories which Nature was there offering to her gaze. Before her lay the Indian Ocean. On the far horizon it seemed to melt away into the sky; but yet in that distance a line clearly defined the apparent contact of sea and heaven. Closer inland the water wore a dark blue tint, forming a beautiful contrast with the light azure-blue of the heavens. This contrast was rendered more striking still by the tremendous rollers which came up from the South. Those mighty billows looked like long lines of liquid hills, which seemed to detach themselves from the horizon and come rolling in majestically upon the shore of Java. These immense waves were smooth as polished glass; for not the faintest breath of wind so much as ruffled their surface, and thus rising and falling calmly and mysteriously, they looked like the undulations of some vast sheet of dark blue cloth. They came rolling in quietly and regularly like the ranks of an advancing army; and, on the side of the wide ocean, they sloped but very gently, as though the deep were too languid to exert itself. But, on the land-side, the slope was steep and the columns of water came on black as an advancing wall. At first, and seen at a distance, the tops of these advancing waves were smooth and round; but as the watery mass neared the land and the wave rose higher and higher, so gradually did it narrow and grow sharper at the top; and the billows seemed to succeed one another at shorter intervals. At length, the tops lost their rounded form altogether--they became a mere ridge which began to fret angrily--then they sharpened to a mere line which, fast and furious, seemed eager to outstrip the wave itself. A moment after, this line of water began to bend forward, forward, forward still, until it formed an arc of immeasurable length. Presently that graceful curve seemed to fly to pieces and shake itself into a ragged crest of silver foam; and, at last, the entire mass came toppling down, covering the sea with thick milk-white froth which came sparkling, and thundering, and dashing itself into blinding spray against the wall of trachyte which seemed to say to the mighty element: "Hitherto shalt thou come and no farther." Anna did not venture to look down into the sheer depth below her, where the waters were boiling in their fury. She feared that a look into that giddy depth might shake her resolution should she actually be compelled to attempt the descent. She gazed out far away to the horizon. There, almost due west, she could clearly see Noesa Kembangan, that beautiful hilly island which, with its luxurious vegetation, seemed to float as a basket of flowers on the watery expanse. She could clearly discern its lighthouse standing on the Tjemering hill--standing out clear against the light blue sky like a pillar of cloud arising from among the foliage. Here and there the bosom of the ocean was dotted with a white sail like some big sea-bird disporting itself upon the glassy surface. And, as if chance had wished to accentuate that resemblance, just then a flight of snow-white cranes came hovering by, forming a dull white stripe on the azure sky. They flew harshly screeching towards the West, on their way, probably, to the fishy lagoons and morasses which there abound. The swift and easy flight of these birds suggested a sad thought to poor Anna: "Oh, that I had wings," she sighed, "that I also could fly, fly far away and be at rest!" And then her fancy carried her back to the past. The image of Charles van Nerekool rose up vividly before her. As in a dream she pictured to herself how happy she might have been by her lover's side. She could hear that "invitation à la valse" and to its delightful melody she seemed once again to float about with his arm around her. She could hear his first murmured confession of love. She again passed through those delicious moments after the dance in the quiet garden of the Residence. Before her, arose the Pandan grove in which Charles had gently detained her to reiterate his declaration of love. At the rhythmical swell and thunder of the ocean, which was giving forth its mighty melody at her feet, she fancied she could hear again the soft duet played by the cornet and the piccolo: "Un jour l'âme ravie, Je vous vis si jolie, Que je vous crus sortie Du céleste séjour. Etait-ce donc un ange, une femme, Qui venait d'embraser mon âme? Las! Je ne sais encore.... Mais depuis ce beau jour Je sais que j'aime d'un pur amour." She felt once again her lover's arm around her waist and his voice she could hear whispering to her softly, and saying: "Anna, my darling, I love you, I love you more dearly than words can express, more dearly than my mother, than my sister, more dearly than my own life!" Oh! those precious words! Ah! that heavenly moment! And then, dreaming on, she heard: "Tell me, Anna, tell me. Do you love me, dearest? I know I have already had your answer; but repeat that word once again, now that we are here alone--now that we are here, far from the noise of the world--repeat that little word now, as we are standing under the eye of God himself!" She had treasured up those words. They were engraven as it were, in her heart. Then she could feel the kiss--the first kiss of love which set the seal to her murmured reply. She could feel-- But, as at Santjoemeh, so here again, she was destined to be roughly startled out of her reverie. She fancied she could hear the voice of her mother. She would have cur-- No, no, not that, she had not the heart to curse anyone; but she cast one reproachful look upwards to heaven, as she felt how so much bliss had been turned to misery and woe. The pleasant dream had vanished. "A blighted life!" she sighed, "a blighted life!" A sudden shriek shook her up out of her day-dream. "Nana!" cried Dalima, "the gentlemen are coming." And indeed, to Anna's horror, she then saw in the bend of the path Murowski, van Nerekool, and Grenits, coming along with all speed. Without taking one instant for deliberation she dashed down the slope which led to the awful precipice before her. "Nana! Nana!" cried Dalima beside herself with terror, "what are you about?" The poor Javanese girl did her best to follow her companion; but, before she could fairly stagger to her feet, Anna was far ahead of her, and, fagged and exhausted as Dalima was, she could not pursue her quickly enough. As she neared the edge of the slope which ended in a perpendicular wall of rock running straight down to the sea, she could see Anna lay hold of the upper steps of the rottang-ladder which led down to the deep below. "Nana! Nana!" she cried in heartrending accents. She rushed on--she saw her young mistress place one foot carefully upon the ladder--she saw her body gradually disappearing. "Nana! Nana!" Now, only Anna's head was visible. That also disappeared, and she could only see one hand clutching at the topmost rung. "Nana! Nana!" The hand let go its hold before Dalima could bend forward to grasp it. It was gone--gone! Then the Javanese girl flung herself flat upon the ground and peered over the edge of the fearful precipice which yawned beneath her. What she saw there was enough to freeze the young blood in her veins. But she had no time to waste in gazing with horror at what was going on below. Once again she shrieked, "Nana! Nana!" Just then she felt some one grasp her arm. She looked up, and van Nerekool was standing beside her. "You here, Dalima!" cried he, not understanding in the least what was going on. "Where is nonna Anna?" "Allah! tobat toean!" cried Dalima, still lying on the ground, but pointing with horror down into the deep. "There? There?" exclaimed Charles beside himself with terror, while he flung himself down on the ground and gazed into that frightful precipice. Fortunately Grenits and Murowski were close behind their friend. He was in a fearfully dangerous position, as he, regardless of all caution, hung over the wall of rock, and it was well for him that his friends firmly grasped his legs. "Charles! Charles!" they cried. "Anna! Anna!" cried van Nerekool in despair--for yonder, far beneath him, he could see the girl cautiously climbing down the long ladder which, made of rottang ropes, was dangling and swaying about under the burden it had to carry. The foot of this crazy ladder dipped into the sea, and was being swayed about by the breakers as they came rolling in shore. When a wave thundered up it swept the end of the ladder into the cave as the water rushed into the opening; and then, when it receded spouting out of the mouth with the force of a cataract, the foot of the ladder was whirled away again in the opposite direction. This violent motion repeatedly dashed Anna up against the face of the rock as she was dangling there far above the surface of the sea, and every now and then a roller would dash its blinding spray upward as if greedy for its prey. At that fearful sight van Nerekool shuddered. "Anna! Anna!" he called again and again in heartrending tones. His voice seemed to reach her above the din of the water. Timidly she glanced upwards. When she saw that face which showed clearly against the blue sky, and which she recognised in an instant, she uttered a faint shriek and hurried down faster than before. Van Nerekool sprang to his feet. "I must go down!" cried he nervously. And before his friends could do anything to prevent him, he had grasped the top of the ladder, had stretched out one foot over the abyss, had placed it into one of the rungs, and had begun his perilous descent. It was now Murowski's turn, and Grenits's turn, to fling themselves down flat on the ground. Certainly it was a horrifying sight to behold those two human beings dangling above that roaring sea on one frail ladder of rope. The two men could not speak, they could hardly breathe, so intense was the excitement and tension of that moment. There they lay gazing down, utterly powerless to stretch out even a finger to save their friend. As soon as Anna perceived that van Nerekool was following her she obeyed the impulse which had driven her to flight, and tried to descend more rapidly than before. But, another thought came flashing upon her. She had heard the dessa-people at Ajo talking a great deal about the Goewah Temon. She knew, from them, that, at low water, the entrance to the cave might be reached; and that then the cave itself might be entered. She knew also that this entrance could only be gained by swimming, because the bottom of the cavity was quite six feet below the lowest water mark. She did not mind that, for she could swim like a duck; but--! but--! all this was only practicable at ebb tide, at dead low water, and when the sea was calm and there were no breakers rolling in. But now--! now the waves were dashing with terrific violence against that trachyte wall--It seemed as if every successive wave reached higher--Yet she descended--further down--still down-- "Anna! Anna!" cried Charles above her head. At length she reached the top of the vaulted cavity. She knew that, at low water, the opening was about fifty feet high, but how narrow did it look just then! Indeed the greater part of it was covered by the sea. She fancied she might just manage to reach the courses of rottang-rope which led from the mouth of the hole to its interior to assist the gatherers of swallows' nests in their perilous work. She was putting out her hand to feel for one of those cables. But, as she did so, a wave of enormous strength came rolling up and broke at her feet with a crash like thunder, and fearfully shook the foot of the ladder which hung loosely floating about at the entrance of the cave. Terrified out of her senses, the young girl lost her presence of mind altogether. She let go her grip, and fell backward into the seething water. "A blighted life!" was her last cry as she fell. Van Nerekool had looked down, as he felt the huge wave approaching--he saw his beloved Anna fall backward--he saw her floating in that boiling surf--he saw her tossed and rolled about like a log in that thick mass of white foam. For the merest fraction of a second he could see her glorious mass of jet-black hair waving on the gleaming surface--and then--all was sucked up into the cave and disappeared from his view. To him, she was now lost for ever! There he was, helplessly dangling above the precipice which had just swallowed up his dearest treasure on earth, and--for an instant he knew not what to do. The next moment came the lull and the huge billow was hurrying back to sea. Then the young man saw the immense volume of water spouting out of the cave with magnificent energy; but--in that clear blue column, as it rushed forth, his eye could catch nothing which looked like a human body; and it flashed upon him that, dead or alive, Anna must have been left behind in the cave. She might have clutched hold of some projecting rock, her clothing might have caught somewhere. Quick as lightning he darted down the ladder. The top of that cave he must get to before the next wave came tumbling in. With feverish eagerness he clutched the rungs--he made no use of his feet--he rather slid down and--he just contrived to grasp one of the rottang cables, and get his feet clear of the ladder when, another wave gave it a violent shake which might have compelled him to let go his grip and might have swallowed him up as it had done Anna. Van Nerekool was now, comparatively speaking, safe. Two sturdy cables of considerable thickness were stretched out parallel to one another all along the inner wall of the grot. At intervals these were fastened by gemoetoe cords to the salient parts of the rock. On the lower of these cables Charles could plant his feet, while with his hands he grasped the upper one. Beneath him the sea was roaring and over his head and all around him fluttered the sea-swallows uttering their shrill cries and darting in and out of the mouth of the cave through the blinding spray. Grenits and Murowski from the top of the cliff had eagerly watched all that had passed. They had been horrified at seeing Anna fall and van Nerekool disappear in the cavity. "Well!" cried one of them, "what to do now?" "We can do no good up here," said the other. Dalima begged them to tell her what they had seen, and as soon as she had heard it she cried: "We must be off at once to the loerah of the dessa Ajo. He has a boat with which, I know, he occasionally visits the Goewahs." And that brave little Javanese girl, forgetting all about herself and her painful condition, shook off her fatigue and was already far down the pathway before the Europeans had found time to follow her. And, when they came to the foot of the mountain they found the boat of which Dalima had spoken. The loerah made a very wry face when he heard the project of the two Europeans. To try and get to the Goewah Temon in such weather! It could not be done. He pointed to the mouth of the Kali Djeties. There the mountain water flowing down was struggling with the rising tide and made the breakers fly up in clouds of spray. At the sight, which was indeed an awful one, the two friends all but despaired. Must they then give up all hope? Must they leave van Nerekool to perish without an effort? "I will give you fifty guilders, loerah!" cried Grenits, "if you bring me up to the cave!" The Javanese chief scratched the back of his head in sore perplexity. "And I," cried Murowski, "I give another fifty!" The loerah began to waver. He exchanged a few anxious words with a couple of men who stood by his side. These seemed not so scrupulous. With a gesture of assent they at once sprang into the boat into which the Europeans took their seats also. "Look here," cried Grenits almost cheerfully, "each of you fellows shall have five-and-twenty guilders if we succeed!" "I will give the same to each of you," said Murowski, "and now give way with all your might." The loerah had taken his place in the afterpart of the crazy boat and he held the steering paddle. Even Dalima and our two friends Grenits and Murowski had armed themselves with a paddle and prepared to help the rowers to the best of their ability. Under the impulse of these six blades the boat shot rapidly ahead. At first, as long as the boat was in the bay all went well. The loerah steered straight for the middle of the entrance of the Moeara; for he was anxious to avoid the tossing and the dangerous back-draught of the water along the coast, and thus, helped on by the stream of the river, the little boat sped on like an arrow released from the bowstring. But, as they gradually got into the estuary, the force of the ocean began to make itself felt. The current began to decrease more and more until at length it was no longer perceptible. Now small waves began to beat up against the keel, and these presently increased in size and power as they coursed along the sides and gave a kind of pounding or stamping motion to the little boat. Still the canoe travelled on--it got into the midst of the foam caused by the breakers and into the eddies formed by the retreating waves. The little cockle-shell seemed dancing on foam. The loerah, who knew that the critical moment was approaching, was sitting in the stern his lips tightly compressed. He wore an anxious and determined look as he clutched his steering-paddle which, at one time, the wave strove, as it were, to pluck from his grasp, and at another the violent swaying of the boat threatened to wrench from him. He was keeping a most anxious look-out, it was a question of life or death. Could he venture to go on? When the billow broke, the hollow tree-stem was at a considerable distance from it. But now the question was: could they hope to get over the distance between that mountain of water and the next one before it also would break? No, he thought they could not. The risk was too great to run. Still he kept looking out and, in the far distance, the next mass of water came steadily rolling up. It was coming on like a towering hill. To the men sitting in that frail canoe it looked like a mountain. The little boat was still hurrying on and, though very unsteadily, yet the five paddles kept way on her. The great wave every instant came nearer and nearer--at length it seemed to rear--it rose as it were perpendicularly over that nutshell, which seemed mad enough to brave its fury. Already it began to form its silvery white crest and appeared like a solid wall of polished blue glittering under the sun's beams. "Easy all," shouted the loerah, who had the while been carefully watching the approaching wave. At the word the paddles ceased to move, and the boat lost all the way she had on her. But just then it seemed as if, without any impulse at all, the little boat was hurrying to meet the huge billow. It looked as if she must inevitably be swallowed up in that mighty curl of water which was about to form. "Back her, back her!" shouted the loerah as he plied his paddle vigorously. Fortunately the frail boat immediately obeyed the reversed action of the paddles, and was drawing back at the moment when the mass of water was beginning to topple over. One moment, indeed it was only for the fraction of a second, the inmates of the canoe caught a glimpse of that vast cave of water, that enormous cylinder of light-blue transparent crystal. But still the wave continued to curl, to describe something like three quarters of a complete arc, and then--it came crashing down at a few paces from where the boat lay, it came crashing down with a sound like thunder, and covered the entire surface of the sea with thick, milk-white foam. "Give way, give way!" now fairly roared the loerah and, impelled by those sturdy arms, the boat shot ahead over the whirling eddies, through the dense foam flakes, while the terrible force of water went dashing up the mouth of the Moeara. Now came the time for exertion; for she must be well away out of that place before the back-sweep of the retreating wave could overtake her, she must be fairly out to sea before another such breaker could come upon her. The men plied their paddles furiously, and the small craft shot ahead with lightning speed. A little while, one supreme effort, and then she began to rise. "Give way! Give way!" again shouted the loerah and, redoubling his own efforts, he encouraged his men to row vigorously. Thus impelled under the frantic strokes of the rowers, the boat was driven up the slope of the wave, which had not yet become dangerously steep. For an instant the little shell hung balancing on that watery edge, her ends hovering in the air, only the centre of her keel resting on the water, and then, she quietly slid down the opposite pent and all were out of danger. The loerah thereupon steered a southerly course; but yet it took a considerable time to reach the mouth of the Goewah. When they got near the cave the ebb tide had fairly set in, and the helmsman had to exercise only ordinary prudence to pilot the boat into the cavity. Meanwhile what had been going on inside? When van Nerekool had gained a footing on one of the cables, he had at once cautiously begun to advance, groping his way in the twilight which reigned in the cave. It struck him that the subterranean vault, into which he was now venturing, was of considerable extent, and ran in far under the base of the mountains; but at the same time, he noticed that the bottom of the cave gradually rose, so that the sea, excepting in a few holes here and there, only penetrated about two hundred feet into the interior. But, within that space, the water had full sway, and was raging furiously. At first, he could hardly see anything: but presently his eyes became more accustomed to the gloom, and he began, moreover, to feel more confidence in the feat of tight-rope walking he was trying to accomplish. Thus he advanced deeper and deeper still into the cavity. At length, close beside a slab of trachyte against which the water was dashing furiously, he thought he could descry something. Taking advantage of every prominent bit of rock he carefully let himself down, and he was fortunate enough to succeed in reaching the mass of trachyte. He found its surface uneven enough to give firm foothold, and at length he found some natural steps by which he could venture to descend to the water's edge. And when he got there--there was his Anna, quite unconscious! She had, in her drowning agony, clutched at the rugged face of the rock. The lower part of her body lay floating about in the water; but her head was resting on her arm, which encircled one of the out-jutting pieces of stone. Charles seized her, he grasped her waist and tried to drag her up against the face of the boulder. The tide was rising and he had need to make haste; for every moment it seemed more probable that Anna would be washed away by the back-rushing waves. By dint of putting forth all his strength, Charles at length succeeded in dragging her to the upper surface of the slab, and then he sat down beside her. He took off his coat and spread it out upon the stone to make his Anna as comfortable a resting place as he could. Her head was resting on his lap and, in that position, he allowed her for awhile quietly to rest. A single glance around had satisfied van Nerekool of the fact that the highest tides had never reached the top of the block of stone, and that therefore they were, as far as the sea was concerned, in a place of safety. With his handkerchief he gently wiped away the sea-water from her pale countenance, and he took a strange delight in spreading out upon his knees her luxuriant mass of black-hair as if to dry it. He knew also that it would be worse than useless to try and get out of the cave before low water, the violence of the waves was too great to admit of any such hope. But, he thought, that, at dead-low water it might be possible to reach the ladder which was still tossing about in the entrance of the cave. By that time he had no doubt that Anna would have regained consciousness, and he knew she could swim. Then once on the ladder--However! he thought, time will bring counsel! Thus musing he gazed down at the beautiful girl who lay there helpless on his knees, Murowski, he thought, and Grenits would surely do something to come to the rescue. It was indeed a critical moment in the young man's life. There, stretched out before him, lay the one being who was dearer to him than all the earth, the one being whom he adored with all the power of his soul, the one being who had robbed him of sleep and deprived him of rest, whose dear image was always and everywhere floating before him. The one human being whom he longed for, whom he yearned to call his own, with all the passionate eagerness and all the tenderness of his impulsive nature. Anna, in her Javanese dress, was covered only by her sarong and kabaja. The slendang, which had served as her head-dress, she had lost in her descent down the ladder. This extremely primitive costume, made of the lightest and most flimsy materials, was now wet through; and there lay the poor girl unconscious on the lap of her lover, who was suffering torments which might fitly have found a place in Dante's Inferno. The dim twilight and the finely divided spray which hung all around seemed to bathe that virgin form in a kind of mystic ether and imparted to the entire scene something weird and sublime. Slowly--very slowly--time rolled on--too slowly for poor Charles van Nerekool. Meanwhile the water no longer rose, and the turn of the tide was beginning to be felt. Every wave which rushed in, roared and boiled and foamed just as did the former one; but yet the water did not reach quite so high, nor did the waves rage so furiously. But, hours would have to elapse before Charles could venture to make for the opening. "Oh, if Anna would but awake," sighed van Nerekool, who, not for an instant, had moved his eyes from the beloved object, "oh, that she would awake! In her own presence she would find a much more powerful protector than in me!" His prayer was heard. Still insensible, Anna mechanically made an attempt to wipe away some drops of water from her brow. Charles tried to assist her in this, he tried to put up his handkerchief; but in doing so he had stooped and his hot feverish breath fell on the face and neck of the girl. This startled Anna and, at length, she opened her eyes. She turned her head, she looked about inquiringly, not able to make out where she was; presently her eye fell upon Charles. With a loud scream she made an effort to start up, "You, you here?" she exclaimed, and again she tried to rise and run away. But van Nerekool gently put his arm round her waist, and drew her to his breast: "Anna," said he, "dearest Anna, do take care, do be quiet--you will slip down--the sea is still much too high." "You here!" she cried half-dazed, "I shall--I will--" And once again she attempted to wrench herself out of his arms. "Anna," said he soothingly, "do be quiet, do be prudent! the rock is wet and slippery. Be careful, you are yet in great danger." His voice was so low and he spoke so tenderly, that the young girl gave up her wild attempt. But when her eye fell upon her own person and she discovered in what a state she was lying in the young man's arms, she once again tried to shake herself free. The sea-water had washed the stain off her face, and the bright scarlet blush was now plainly visible as she cast down her eyes in dire distress. "Leave me, Charles," she stammered in confusion, "do leave me!" But he only clasped her tighter to his heart, and covered her face with burning kisses. "Anna, I love you--Anna, I have found you again!" he exclaimed, passionately, "and never, never again shall I leave you." "But, Charles, do have pity on me," pleaded the poor girl in faltering accents, as she again strove to free herself from his embrace, "yours I can, I may--never be." "Anna," cried he huskily, as he pressed her closer and closer still to his breast. She probably misunderstood his action--at all events she continued very, very sadly: "No, Charles, your wife I can never be--and--oh, you love me too well, do you not?--to have any other thoughts." The poor girl said these words in a voice so unutterably sad that van Nerekool felt at once that he had unwittingly wounded her modesty. At once he released her, though he still kept his arm round her waist. "But, Anna," said he, "why should you not become my wife?" "No, never!" replied she resolutely. "Not then, and not now. I have given you my reason very fully. Now let me go." "But, Anna," he persisted, "since that time circumstances have entirely changed." "What circumstances?" she asked, looking up anxiously in the young man's face. "Why, now your father and mother are dead--" "What? father and mother dead?" exclaimed the poor girl, before the word had fairly left his lips. He nodded assent. Anna covered her face with both hands and sobbed convulsively. It was a very strange scene down there in that gloomy cave. Those two young people--one of them in his shirt sleeves--the other in her wet sarong and kabaja, indeed, one might say, scarcely dressed at all--sitting there side by side on a bare slab of rock. She with her face buried in her hands and sobbing as if her heart would break, he gazing down eagerly and lovingly upon her, striving, as it were, to fathom the thoughts which were rising in that maiden breast, and upon which he felt that his happiness depended. "But, can it be true?" said she at last amidst the sobs which convulsively shook her entire frame, "can it be true? Oh, Charles, you could not be cruel enough to invent such a story. Charles, Charles, what am I to believe?" "Anna, dearest Anna, what do you think of me? do you really think me capable of thus trifling with your most sacred feelings. Indeed, you are misjudging me, Anna." She kept on weeping bitterly and was inconsolable. He gently drew her to him, trying to comfort her in her distress. And now she offered no resistance; but she rather nestled up to his breast. Now that she was an orphan, and that she knew she was alone in the world, she sought for protection with the man whom she had always faithfully loved. "Both dead," she kept repeating again and again, "what did they die of? Oh, tell me how it happened! You have come straight from Santjoemeh, and you must know all about it." "No, my love, on the contrary I know just nothing at all. When I left Santjoemeh both your parents were in excellent health and spirits. On the very morning when I set out with Grenits--" "With Grenits?" asked Anna, "Theodoor Grenits? Is he with you here?" "Yes, my love, he is--but, as I was saying, when we started, on that very morning Mr. and Mrs. van Gulpendam set out for Soeka maniesan." "Soeka maniesan?" inquired Anna, "what place may that be?" "It is a sugar factory situated in the extreme east of the Residence of Santjoemeh. It was not until after we had reached Gombong that we received tidings of the sad event. A telegram." And then, in as few words as he could, he told the poor girl all he knew. It was not much and amounted simply to the fact that both the Resident and his wife had been murdered by a band of robbers. The letter in which van Rheijn promised to give further details was, no doubt, at that moment waiting for them at Gombong. When he had told Anna all he knew, van Nerekool paused for a few moments. He wished to give the poor girl time to recover, in some measure, from the terrible blow that had so suddenly fallen upon her. She was literally overwhelmed with sorrow and sat leaning up against him weeping bitterly. Her nature had but little in common with that of her parents. She herself had brought about the parting--of her own free will she had left her parents' roof, with the settled determination of never returning to it again. But now, death had stepped in--death had made that parting irrevocable--death had made a reunion impossible--and now, all her affections at once flew back to the beings to whom she owed her life. Now she clean forgot all the dreary past, she clean forgot all that was bad, only to remember, with the greater tenderness, whatever had been kind and good. Yes, she was, indeed and in truth, deeply affected, and, had it been in her power, she would have laid down her life to undo the past. While they were sitting thus the ebb tide had fairly set in, and the water was beginning rapidly to draw back. Every successive wave, as it rushed into the cave, was less violent and retreated also more quietly. That went on until the fury of the water had entirely abated, and presently they were merely ripples that entered the Goewah Temon. "Now, my dearest Anna," said van Nerekool, anxious to break the silence and to lead her thoughts into another channel, "now it is time to move, or else we might be surprised by another tide." She raised her head and looked about her. When she saw that the sea was calm she also felt that no time was to be lost. She wiped away her tears. "Yes," said she, "we must get out of this place; but, can you swim? For, you see, the water which is standing in the mouth of the cave yonder is much too deep to wade through. Yes? Then that is all right--there is no fear--we shall soon get to the ladder." With these words she prepared to leave the stone on which they had found a safe resting-place, and was getting ready to slip into the water; but Charles kept her back, and gently pressing her to him, he said: "After the terrible news you have just now heard from me it may not be right for me to speak of love. But, Anna, I have lately felt so utterly wretched, and, in these last few moments I have been so unspeakably happy! Promise me now, in this solemn place and in this solemn hour, that you will not again try to escape from me." She looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes, there was an expression of heart-felt sorrow in her countenance, and she could not utter a single word. "All obstacles," continued he, softly whispering in her ear, "are now removed. You are now your own mistress. Tell me, dearest Anna, may I hope?" She turned away her head and laid her hand on his mouth. There was, in the midst of her sorrow, something playful in the action, and Charles caught that hand and covered it with kisses. "Thanks!" he said, "thanks! Oh I know well that just now you can give me no other answer. Thanks again and again. But Anna, now we must take to the water, we must be off." Both were on the point of entering the sea and beginning their perilous journey, when voices were heard outside the cave. Charles and Anna looked at one another in surprise; but in another moment they saw Dalima, Grenits, and Murowski, accompanied by a couple of Javanese, who--the reader knows in what manner--appeared in a canoe at the mouth of the cave. "Great heavens!" exclaimed poor Anna, as she cast a look at her clothing. "And I in this wet dress!" She blushed scarlet as she saw the sarong and kabaja clinging to her limbs. She felt, moreover, that Charles was gazing at her; and this only augmented her confusion. Charles, however, took up the coat on which she had been seated and offered it to her as a covering. Meanwhile the little boat had been coming up and Grenits and Murowski, and especially Dalima, were beside themselves with joy when they found that the friends, whom they had given up for lost, were alive and well. The loerah of the dessa Ajo had flung a couple of sarongs into his boat before starting, to wrap up the bodies in, he had said, so certain was he that the pair must have perished. But, these two garments now came in very handy. Anna was able to wrap herself well in them, and in this Dalima was eager to help her. Then she stepped into the boat. In a few minutes they had left the Goewah Temon and, two hours later, Anna, Dalima, van Nerekool, Grenits and Murowski were safely and comfortably seated together in the little house on the slope of the Goenoeng Poleng. At that meeting, plans for the future were very speedily determined upon, and the sun had scarcely reached the zenith, before Anna and Dalima were seated, each in a litter, and were on their way to Karang Anjer. The gentlemen formed the escort to the two litters; and a very formidable escort they looked, armed, as they were, with their fowling pieces. At the house of the Steenvlaks Anna met with the most cordial reception. There she determined to remain until--Well, yes! until the days of her mourning were passed. After all this had been properly settled the young men returned to Gombong. Theodoor and Charles at once went to the captain who was in command there, to take leave of him and to thank him for having granted their friend Murowski leave to accompany them. "Well, gentlemen," cried the bluff but kind-hearted soldier as he caught sight of them, "have you had any luck?" "Oh yes," cried Grenits, "we have had splendid success!" "That is right, I am glad to hear it. And did you get any good specimens?" "Glorious specimens, captain!" exclaimed Murowski, roguishly, "splendid specimens! Why, amongst others we have had the luck to catch a magnificent, a unique butterfly--a puella formosa." "Very good, I wish you luck with the little beast, but for heaven's sake don't bother me with your Latin." Even van Nerekool could not refrain from laughing as he thought of the little butterfly they had captured. Fourteen months later Anna van Gulpendam and Charles van Nerekool became man and wife. The wedding took place very simply and without the slightest display, at the house of Assistant Resident Steenvlak. August van Beneden and Theodoor Grenits gave away the bride, and Edward van Rheijn and the Polish doctor Murowski were witnesses for the bridegroom. At the conclusion of the marriage ceremony, who should suddenly turn up but William Verstork. After the death of Resident van Gulpendam, he had been at once recalled to Santjoemeh where his merits were well known and where he was highly esteemed. No one expected to see him at the wedding; for a telegram had brought the news that the steamer in which he travelled from Batavia had run ashore and had stuck fast somewhere about Tegal. But, when he found that getting the ship off the shallows would be a long business, Verstork had left her and gone ashore, and then had posted all the way to Karang Anjer. He was determined, at any cost, to be present at his friend's wedding. But, on his journey, he had been unavoidably delayed, and thus came too late to take part in the actual ceremony, though in ample time to join, on that auspicious day, in the warm congratulations which were showered on the young couple. Yes, if ever there were hearty congratulations and sincere good wishes they were indeed those which the young people received from the friends who, in the absence of nearer relations on either side, were then gathered around them. After the wedding, Mr. and Mrs. van Nerekool started for Tjilatjap intending there to take the boat to Batavia where van Nerekool had obtained a judicial appointment. The others returned to their own spheres of work. Murowski remained at Gombong and the others went to Santjoemeh and resumed their everyday duties. But all of them, to a man, were animated with one resolution and had determined that thenceforward it should rule all their actions. And that resolution was, to carry on war--implacable war--war à outrance against the horrors of the opium traffic. If they could only succeed in abolishing the fatal system of opium farming--if they could but succeed in preventing that poison from being forced upon the population, then they felt assured that abuse of opium would soon cease to be a curse of the fair island of Java; and that the opium-fiend would soon lose his power. And now we conclude with the person who gives her name to this book. We must tell our readers that a few months after baboe Dalima had found those whom she loved so faithfully and so well in the cave of the Karang Bollong mountain range, she became the mother of a dead child. That had been a great blow to her; for, in spite of the foul outrage of which she had been the victim, her warm little heart had eagerly looked forward to the advent of the little stranger. She had so looked forward to love the poor little thing. Oh, how tenderly she would have nursed it, how she would have fondled it and caressed it--as perhaps no other mother had ever done before her. Such were her dreams. She had already prepared its cradle. Not such a thing as we cold Western folk understand by the word; no, no, it was a very simple little basket, woven by her own fingers out of bamboo. But that little crib she had made so cosy, so comfortable; she had furnished it with the softest cushions and wrapped round it the best of her sarongs to keep away the mosquitoes by night and ward off the sun's rays by day. It would be a little nest which she would hang up in the front gallery of the small cottage in which she meant to take up her abode, and, as she softly would rock it to and fro she would play on the gambang and lull her little bird to sleep with her low sweet song. Now, all that happiness was gone! The fatigue, the exertion which she had undergone, and all the anxieties of the terrible events through which she had passed; the dreadful suspense at the Goewah Temon in which she had so nearly lost her darling Nana, had proved too much for her. Yes, she had been very very sad; but time heals even the deepest wounds. And then, after all, she was with her Nana and she intended to remain with her to her latest breath. She had travelled with Anna to Batavia, and there she settled down to be the baboe of the little van Nerekools who, she fervently hoped, would bless the union of her friends. And anyone who knows the faithful affection with which the Javanese do attach themselves to their masters, if the latter will but treat them with anything like fairness and kindness, must feel certain that baboe Dalima will remain faithful to her trust until THE END.