SinTR/mic 
 
 JfaHELSTflNE 
 
 ^_* W 

 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE REAL MALAY
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 BRITISH MALAYA: an Account of 
 the Origin and Progress of British 
 Influence in Malaya. 
 
 MALAY SKETCHES 
 UNADDRESSED LETTERS 
 ALSO AND PERHAPS 
 
 THE BODLEY HEAD
 
 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 PEN PICTURES 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR FRANK tATHELSTANE 
 SWETTENHAM, K.C.M.G. 
 
 LONDON 
 JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LIMITED
 
 Third Edition 
 
 Printed in Great Britain 
 ly Tumlrull <Sr Shears, Edinburgh
 
 2)5 
 
 TO THE READER 
 
 /~\NE sees, in newspapers, railway carriages, 
 ^^ omnibuses, and throughout the meadows 
 of England, advertisements which proclaim the 
 innumerable uses, and absolute efficacy, of a host 
 of patent cures for every ill that flesh is heir to. 
 The specifics whether in the form of pills, 
 powders, potions, or plasters will heal every sore, 
 restore sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, hair 
 to the bald, or work any other miracle at an ex- 
 tremely moderate cost. Babies clamour for these 
 nostrums if you can believe the pictured stories 
 that meet your eye at every turn fat old women 
 simper at their recovered youth and slimness, after 
 a second dose, and consumptive youths smash 
 " try-your-strength " machines, in the vigour in- 
 spired by a single bottle of some famed elixir. 
 All this is very encouraging ; and while the
 
 ri TO THE READER 
 
 pictures appeal to one's sense of the Beautiful in 
 Art, the modest enumeration of the manifold virtues 
 of the simples and the syrups brings us face to 
 face with Truth. 
 
 It may be that I have not read the newspapers 
 of widest circulation, have not travelled by the most 
 favoured railways, studied the really popular omni- 
 buses, or wandered through the best-advertised 
 meadows, for I have not met with a cheap, por- 
 table, and effective giver of sleep. 
 
 In the nerve-exhausting bustle and excitement 
 of an expiring century, what every one wants is 
 the power to command sleep at short notice. I 
 offer you this book, in the belief that, haply, you 
 may find in it that needed restfulness, which will 
 rapidly develop into blissful slumber. Unlike the 
 pills and the potions, you gain the effect without 
 losing the cause. There is no illustration, no 
 " won't-be-happy-till-he-gets-it," because sleep is 
 so generally unbecoming, to all but the very 
 young, that I prefer to leave the picture to your 
 imagination. 
 
 If my prescription fails ; if the unexpected 
 happens ; I am willing to take the consequences,
 
 TO THE READER vii 
 
 and you can say, publicly or privately, that I 
 misled you. I shall not be offended. If, on the 
 other hand, my prescription produces the desired 
 result, you will have both capital and experience, 
 and I the reward of virtue. 
 
 The fair places of Malaya are as yet undese- 
 crated by the mammoth placard of forbidding 
 ugliness, but the Malays have their infallible cures, 
 which possess at least as many and potent quali- 
 ties as those so aggressively claimed for English 
 quackery. Indeed, I remember that, some years 
 ago, an epidemic of cholera broke out in a district 
 of a Malay State, and I went there to see what 
 could be done for the people. When I arrived, 
 I found there had been a good many deaths, but 
 the usual "scare" was absent. On inquiry, I 
 learned that a medicine-man had appeared, shortly 
 after the outbreak of the disease, and had sold, 
 to almost all the Malays, a cholera- specific, for 
 the very reasonable price of one dollar per charm. 
 Talking to a group of people, I asked to see the 
 charm, and they all held out their right hands, 
 and showed a small piece of thin string tied round 
 their wrists.
 
 nu TO THE READER 
 
 " Is that all ? " I asked. 
 
 " That is all," they said. 
 
 " Where is the medicine-man ? " I inquired. 
 
 " He has left the district." 
 
 " How many people bought the prophylactic ? " 
 
 "About five hundred." 
 
 "The man has robbed you." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because the thing he sold you is only a bit 
 of string, and useless." 
 
 " But we told him so, and he promised that if 
 any one who had bought the charm was attacked 
 by cholera, and died, he would, in every such case, 
 give back the dollar." 
 
 Needless to say, I made no further attempt to 
 shake so great a faith. The black death has a 
 way of attacking the fearful ; but the Destroying 
 Angel passes by the doors of those who sleep 
 in the happy confidence of security through the 
 possession of a bit of magic string. 
 
 One word more. I advise those who are not 
 interested in matters which send their countrymen 
 across the seas, and keep them there, life-long, 
 or life-short, exiles from their native land, to
 
 TO THE READER ix 
 
 turn over the first fifty-one pages of this book and 
 begin their reading at that point. 
 
 For any who care to know by what insignifi- 
 cant means the outposts of the British Empire are 
 advanced, and guarded, and strengthened (often 
 against the wishes of her Majesty's advisers), 
 how enemies are persuaded to be friends, and 
 pathless jungles are opened to every form of 
 enterprise for them this first unvarnished picture 
 may possess a wider interest and a deeper signi- 
 ficance than any of the succeeding sketches. 
 
 F. A. S. 
 
 CARCOSA, MALAY PENINSULA, 
 May 1899.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A NEW METHOD I 
 
 A STORM EFFECT $2 
 
 A SILVER-POINT 63 
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 86 
 
 SOME LAST TOUCHES . . . . . . .105 
 
 A NOCTURNE 113 
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 139 
 
 WOODCUTS 163 
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 1 86 
 
 AN "OLD MASTER" 200 
 
 A LINE ENGRAVING 2IO 
 
 A SILHOUETTE 224 
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION .232 
 
 LOCAL COLOUR 258 
 
 A MEZZOTINT 260 
 
 IN CHARCOAL 290
 
 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 A NEW METHOD 
 
 OF all the momentous events of this fast-clos- 
 ing century, probably the most remarkable is 
 the forcing of China from that position of exclusive- 
 ness which she has maintained inviolate throughout 
 the ages. For many years the most intelligent and 
 best-informed Englishmen have realised the pos- 
 sibilities of the Chinese Empire. They have gauged 
 the value of that vast territory, with all its known 
 and unknown resources, and the possibly greater 
 value of a preponderating influence in a country 
 inhabited by four hundred millions of the hardest- 
 working, most easily governed race on earth. An 
 understanding with China, not many years ago, 
 might have saved the situation and benefited British 
 interests to a larger extent than an alliance with 
 any Western Power. The opportunity went with 
 the war between China and Japan, a war which
 
 2 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 showed the world China's weakness, and gave 
 Russia an opening, of which she was not slow to 
 avail herself. 
 
 Japan triumphed; but, at Russia's instigation, 
 France and Germany aided the Northern Power 
 to prevent Japan acquiring all the territorial advan- 
 tages she expected as the result of her victory. 
 Then Germany occupied Kiau Chau, and Russia 
 possessed herself of Port Arthur and Talien Wan. 
 Great Britain replied by occupying Wei Hai Wei, 
 and, since then, China has been treated as a quan- 
 titt negligeable, while Western and Far- Western 
 nations have set the policy of the "open door" 
 against the policy of partition, and gone very near 
 to blows in advancing their rival claims, or defend- 
 ing their real or imaginary interests. 
 
 More recently, the war between Spain and 
 America has impressed not only the British public, 
 but foreign nations, with the value of coaling sta- 
 tions, docking facilities and bases of supply and 
 it is clear that England possesses, all over the 
 world, very special advantages in this respect. 
 Leaving the Mediterranean out of the question, we 
 have, in Aden, Colombo, Singapore, and Hongkong, 
 a chain of fortresses, of harbours of refuge, of docks 
 and workshops, coaling stores and victualling yards,
 
 A NEW METHOD 3 
 
 that give the British navy and mercantile marine 
 an unrivalled position. It is just becoming known 
 to the British public that one of the best defended, 
 most important and most conveniently situated of 
 these stations is Singapore; and people are now 
 beginning to learn that Singapore is in the Straits 
 of Malacca, and that it was secured for England by 
 the foresight and determination of Sir Stamford 
 Raffles, one of the greatest, and least known or 
 appreciated, of the builders of the British Empire. 
 
 I call Singapore important and conveniently situ- 
 ated, because it is about equidistant between Ceylon 
 and Hongkong ; because it commands the entrance 
 to the China Sea by the route of the Straits of 
 Malacca ; and because if, with Singapore as a 
 centre, you describe a circle, with a radius of a 
 thousand miles, that circle will cut, or include, Siam, 
 Borneo, the edge of the Philippine group, the 
 French possessions in Cochin-China, and the Dutch 
 possessions in Java, Sumatra, and the Malay Archi- 
 pelago. 
 
 Moreover, though Singapore is a very small 
 island, it has the Malay Peninsula for hinterland; 
 it is the central market, or port of trans-shipment, 
 for all the countries I have named, except the first 
 two (Ceylon and Hongkong), which are themselves
 
 4 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 British possessions ; it is a great distributing centre ; 
 it possesses immense stores of coal, and docking 
 facilities of a kind unrivalled in the farther East, 
 except in our own colony of Hongkong. 
 
 To understand the mercantile importance of Sin- 
 gapore, one should consult Colonel Howard Vin- 
 cent's statistical map of the world. I will only say 
 that ten million tons of shipping entered and left it 
 in 1898, and the value of the trade of the port for 
 that year was, approximately, three hundred and 
 fifty millions of dollars, about equal to ^35,000,000 
 sterling. 
 
 Singapore, which is just over one degree north 
 of the equator, and within twenty miles of the 
 southernmost point of Asia, was acquired in 1819, 
 and, up till 1867, it formed, with Penang, Malacca, 
 and the province of Wellesley, one of the Indian 
 Presidencies. In that year the Straits Settlements, 
 as the new colony was so unfortunately named, was 
 handed over to the Colonial Office, and the period 
 of its greater prosperity began. 
 
 Up till and beyond that date, the British Govern- 
 ment absolutely declined to interfere in the Malay 
 States of the Peninsula, though repeatedly pressed 
 to do so; but a long series of provocations, and 
 the advent of Major-General Sir Andrew Clarke as
 
 A NEW METHOD 5 
 
 Governor, resulted, in 1874, in an entirely new 
 departure, namely, the protection of the southern 
 part of the Peninsula. Since then the colony's 
 revenue has increased threefold ; the port and har- 
 bour of Singapore have been put into a state of 
 defence; the garrison has been strengthened; and 
 the prosperity and importance of this possession 
 has grown, part passu, with the development of its 
 immediate hinterland, the Protected Malay States. 
 
 The history of the British Settlements on the 
 Straits of Malacca may be summarised in very few 
 words. Malacca was seized by Albuquerque in 
 1511. The place, then a very important emporium 
 of trade, was wrested from the Portuguese by the 
 Dutch in 1640, and they retained it till 1795, when 
 we took it from them. In 181 8 we restored it, in 
 conformity with the Treaty of Vienna ; but in 1 824 
 it again passed into British hands, and has remained 
 in our keeping ever since. The island of Penang, 
 which is about two hundred and sixty miles north- 
 west of Malacca, was occupied by the East India 
 Company in 1786, at the instance of a trader in the 
 Eastern Seas named Francis Light. The island and 
 a strip of mainland were purchased from the Raja 
 of Kedah, on terms which were afterwards repu- 
 diated by the East India Company, to their great
 
 6 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 shame and our present loss. The island of Singa- 
 pore, which lies some one hundred and ten miles 
 south-east of Malacca, was acquired by Sir Stamford 
 Raffles in 1819, and he made his occupation sure 
 by settling, not only with the titular ruler, the 
 Sultan of Johore, but also with the chief in local 
 occupation, the Temenggong of Johore. 
 
 These three Settlements were secured with one 
 and the same object, to prevent the Dutch from 
 shutting the door on British enterprise in the Malay 
 Peninsula and Archipelago, and to obtain, as Mr. 
 Light put it, " a convenient magazine for Eastern 
 trade," on the highway between India and China. 
 
 For fifty years after the founding of Singapore 
 the Settlements were left very much to themselves, 
 and, by reason of their convenient situation, the 
 fact that they were free ports, and later, the con- 
 struction of admirable docks and workshops in 
 Singapore, they prospered amazingly. With insig- 
 nificant internal resources, a small area, and no real 
 customs duties, the three Settlements were, in 1874, 
 in receipt of a revenue of $1,458,872, which was 
 more than sufficient to defray all their expenses, 
 and they had then, and have now, no public debt. 
 
 So far the British Government had steadily de- 
 clined to interfere in the affairs of the neighbouring
 
 A NEW METHOD 7 
 
 Malay States; and when appealed to by British 
 subjects, issued to them, and all concerned, the 
 following notice : " If persons, knowing the risks 
 they run, owing to the disturbed state of these 
 countries, choose to hazard their lives and proper- 
 ties for the sake of the large profits which accom- 
 pany successful trading, they must not expect the 
 British Government to be answerable if their specu- 
 lation proves unsuccessful." 
 
 That warning had its deterrent effect on the 
 British trader; but the hand of the Government 
 was forced, not by our too-enterprising country- 
 men, not by the more modern mission of adventure 
 and exploration, but by the inability of the Malay 
 rulers to administer their own States, or control 
 the Chinese, who had been attracted to them by the 
 richness of their mineral deposits. 
 
 In 1874, the ignorance of all Europeans in the 
 colony concerning their near neighbours in the 
 Malay Peninsula almost passes belief. They had 
 been warned off the ground, and had taken the 
 warning to heart. Mysterious Malaya was a terra 
 incognita to official and trader alike. There were 
 no reliable books on the subject, the whole country 
 was an absolute blank on every map; even the 
 names of the States and the titles of their rulers
 
 8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 were not known to more than half-a-dozen English- 
 men. Of the nature of the country, the character 
 of the people, their numbers, distribution, senti- 
 ments, or condition, there was an ignorance, pro- 
 found, absolute, and complete. An impression, 
 however, prevailed that some kind of internal 
 struggle for power, for place, or for the sheer 
 pleasure of fighting, was constantly going on. There 
 was also a strong belief that Malays were treacher- 
 ous by nature and pirates by trade, and that there 
 were no special inducements for a white man to 
 trust himself in such a barbarous country. 
 
 Still there were a very few men in the colony 
 who hankered after the Malay nettle, who desired 
 to grasp it for the pleasure of showing their ine- 
 radicable belief in the capacity of their nation to 
 deal with any untamed people, any specially thorny 
 and difficult business. These desired then, as 
 others do now, and as their successors will desire 
 throughout the coming century, to paint the unex- 
 plored Peninsula red on the maps, for the glory of 
 England and the envy of her rivals. 
 
 A small thing, as so often happens, changed the 
 policy of the British Government in regard to the 
 Malay States. Rather, I should say, a number of 
 small things, coming together, found the right man
 
 A NEW METHOD 9 
 
 ready to seize the opportunity. British expansion, 
 in the East at all events, is a record of the doings 
 of courageous, capable, and masterful men. Oppor- 
 tunities may tear the cloaks from a thousand excel- 
 lent, hesitating, conscience-burdened theorists and 
 talkers, who never get beyond their good intentions ; 
 while one man of courage, determination, and action, 
 inspired by the fire of patriotism, will make oppor- 
 tunities for himself, to the profit of his country. 
 Such a man was Stamford Raffles, and to-day his 
 countrymen can gauge to a nicety England's gain 
 and his personal reward. No true patriot counts 
 either his present risk, or his prospective advantage, 
 when intent upon his country's interests ; the 
 greater so immeasurably overshadows the less. But 
 probably no true man can help a feeling of mortifi- 
 cation when the sacrifice of the best he has to offer 
 passes without acknowledgment. Raffles was a 
 great man, and stronger in individuality than most, 
 but neglect touched him, and embittered the closing 
 years of his life. The founder of Singapore, could 
 he have revisited that city in 1874, would have 
 rejoiced to see to what trade-importance his almost 
 uninhabited island had grown. Could he have 
 returned again, a quarter of a century later, to find 
 the place a great naval stronghold, one of the chain
 
 io THE REAL MALAY 
 
 of fortresses, of coaling and refitting stations, be- 
 tween England and China, the centre of a vast circle 
 of trade and the market of the developed Malayan 
 hinterland, he would have forgotten his personal 
 slights in the knowledge of his country's gain, the 
 proof of his foresight, the justification of his policy, 
 and the fulfilment of his dearest hopes. 
 
 In 1873, Major-General Sir Andrew Clarke, R.E., 
 was appointed Governor of the colony of the Straits 
 Settlements, and, as the Colonial Office had been 
 flooded with complaints concerning the evil state of 
 affairs in the Malay Peninsula, Sir Andrew came 
 armed with instructions to inquire into the state of 
 affairs, and to say whether he thought it might be 
 possible and advisable to interfere, and introduce 
 some such system of British Resident Advisers as 
 that which prevailed in the native States in India. 
 
 As though to greet the new Governor, reports of 
 internal dissensions in all the western States came 
 treading on each other's heels. 
 
 The Chinese, engaged in mining in Perak, got 
 completely out of hand, and fought each other with 
 a fury and carnage unknown to Malay warfare. 
 One party, driven towards the coast, deprived of 
 all food supplies, and utterly desperate, took to 
 piracy, and with fast-pulling boats preyed upon
 
 A NEW METHOD u 
 
 every passing vessel, with complete impartiality. 
 The cargoes were looted, the crews murdered, and 
 the vessels burned. For months her Majesty's 
 ships had patrolled the Straits without securing a 
 single pirate ; and, at last, in an engagement within 
 the mouth of a Perak river, two naval officers were 
 seriously wounded. That brought about the de- 
 struction of the pirates' principal stronghold and the 
 interference of the Governor. 
 
 Between the Chinese factions the fight had de- 
 veloped into a war of secret societies, and, not 
 content with their operations in Perak, the leaders, 
 who were supported and directed by heads of 
 societies in Penang, attacked British posts beyond 
 the borders of Perak, and blew up the Penang 
 residence of a Perak chief, hoping thereby to gratify 
 their spite and get rid of his control. Lastly, one 
 of three rival claimants for the sultanship of Perak 
 wrote to the Governor, begging for his assistance 
 and the loan of a British officer to teach him the 
 mysteries of sound administration. 
 
 Sir Andrew Clarke did not wait to write a 
 report that might have led to nothing ; he seized 
 this opportunity to deal with the Chinese quarrel, 
 to summon the Perak chiefs to a meeting 
 whereat the claimant with the best title was re-
 
 ii THE REAL MALAY 
 
 cognised as Sultan the Treaty of Pangkor was 
 concluded, and a British officer, Captain Speedy, 
 was temporarily appointed British Resident of 
 Perak. A commission of three British officers l 
 walked through the most disturbed parts of the 
 country; and, in one month, caused all forts and 
 stockades to be destroyed, settled the question of 
 disputed mining areas, and released from captivity 
 forty-five Chinese women, held in bondage by Malay 
 and Chinese captors. When the commissioners 
 left the State and made their report, all fighting had 
 ceased, every fortification had been destroyed, every 
 captive Chinese woman had been restored to liberty, 
 and there has never been a piracy in Perak waters 
 since. From that moment the Chinese have given 
 no serious trouble. 
 
 As to Malay matters, they were not so easily 
 settled. One Sultan had been recognised, but there 
 was another in existence, who declined to give way, 
 and a third aspirant, who was naturally dissatisfied. 
 The State of Perak covers nearly ten thousand 
 square miles, and one British officer, even two (for, 
 a few months later, Mr. J. W. W. Birch was 
 appointed Resident, with Capt. Speedy as his 
 
 1 Col. Dunlop, R.A., C.M.G., Mr. W. A. Pickering, C.M.G., 
 and the writer.
 
 A NEW METHOD 13 
 
 assistant), could not be everywhere at once, in 
 a roadless, jungle-covered country. Consequently, 
 difficulties arose, the acknowledged Sultan, who 
 had asked for a Resident, proved faithless, resented 
 advice, or any interference with the indulgence of 
 his own inclinations, and the Resident was assassi- 
 nated by a powerful chief, acting with the knowledge 
 and approval of both the rival kings. 
 
 The first small expedition sent to punish the 
 murderers met with disaster. A number of lives 
 were lost, and a second force, consisting of troops 
 from China and India, under Major-General Col- 
 borne and Brigadier-General John Ross, with a 
 naval brigade under Capt. Duller, R.N. (now 
 Admiral Sir A. Duller, K.C.D.), attacked and cap- 
 tured the enemy's strongholds, put those in arms 
 to flight, occupied various strategic points, and 
 while giving a very useful exhibition of England's 
 power, and the capacity of her soldiers and sailors 
 to reach any Malay fastness furnished to the 
 civil officers that material support which was neces- 
 sary to enforce respect for their advice in trying to 
 introduce a better form of government. 
 
 Within eighteen months of the murder of the 
 Resident every Dritish soldier had left the country. 
 It is also worth mentioning that Perak eventually
 
 I 4 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 paid the entire cost of the military expedition ; and 
 every man, directly or indirectly concerned in Mr. 
 Birch's death, sooner or later had to pay a severe, 
 but merited, penalty for his share in the crime. 
 
 The geographical position of the three Settlements 
 of Singapore, Penang, and Malacca has been briefly 
 indicated ; and it will be useful here to say that the 
 Malay Peninsula stretches southwards from Siam 
 and Burmah in somewhat the shape of a footless 
 leg, the island of Singapore lying close to the 
 southern extremity. Johore is Singapore's nearest 
 neighbour, and, unlike any other State, it has one 
 coast-line in the Straits of Malacca and the other 
 in the China Sea. Immediately north of Johore is 
 Pahang, on the east coast, and, on the west, Negri 
 Sembilan, Selangor, and then Perak. These four 
 constitute the Federated Malay States. Johore 
 is also under British protection, but is not in the 
 Federation. 
 
 North of Pahang are the semi-independent States 
 of Trengganu and Kelantan, to which must be added 
 PatAni under Siamese protection. North of Perak 
 is Kedah, also under Siamese protection. 
 
 Very shortly after the conclusion of the Pangkor 
 Treaty, Sir Andrew Clarke took steps to establish 
 British influence in Selangor and in the neighbour-
 
 A NEW METHOD 15 
 
 ing State of Sungei Ujong, one of the group of 
 small States round Malacca. These districts, nine 
 in all (whence the name Negri Sembilan), had once 
 been united, but the ties had grown weak, and, as 
 the result of constant quarrels, and the absence of 
 any strong central authority, they had drifted apart, 
 and each maintained an almost complete indepen- 
 dence of all the others. Successive Governors, at 
 different times in the last twenty-five years, have 
 succeeded in extending British influence to the 
 "Nine States," and, only last year, the union of 
 the provinces was re-established, and the various 
 chiefs formally acknowledged the Sultan (or Yang 
 di Pertuan, as he is more properly styled), of Negri 
 Sembilan as their titular ruler. 
 
 Pahang accepted a British Resident in 1889, but 
 not very willingly ; and, as in Perak, discontented 
 chiefs caused serious trouble, which was only put 
 down with the assistance of military forces, bor- 
 rowed from Perak and Selangor. Since 1894 there 
 has been no disturbance of any kind, and, judging 
 by past experience, it may safely be said that, with 
 ordinary care and a proper consideration of the 
 reasonable prejudices, wishes, and feelings of the 
 Malay population, no State in the Federation need 
 fear that any Malay chief will again attempt to take
 
 16 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 up arms against the Government. The Malay 
 labouring classes, the raiyats, have no desire to 
 oppose a regime that has so greatly improved the 
 conditions of life for them. 
 
 To return to the earliest days of the residential 
 system. Into the midst of a war-hardened and 
 desperate population chiefly of Malays, but, in 
 Perak and Selangor, tempered, or ill-tempered, by a 
 strong admixture of Chinese individual British 
 officers had been thrown, as one might cast a dog 
 into the sea ; leaving it to the dog to find his way 
 out again, or drown. It would weary the reader 
 if I were to truthfully describe the state of affairs 
 and the conditions of life in the Malay States when 
 this interesting experiment was first undertaken. I 
 will not attempt it; but I will remind him of two 
 notable facts, first, that, up to this time, no white 
 man had, since the beginning of time, ever gone 
 into the Peninsula and tried to exercise authority 
 there ; secondly, that, for many years, all these 
 States had been in a condition of anarchy and strife, 
 so that the only law, known or recognised, was that 
 of "might," and, in its name, things were done that 
 had better remain untold. 
 
 Of minor, but still important, considerations, the 
 following must be mentioned. In Perak, the first
 
 A NEW METHOD 17 
 
 British Resident, after a few months spent in the 
 country, had been assassinated. A military ex- 
 pedition had vindicated the prestige of a power 
 hitherto unfelt, and the existence of which was but 
 vaguely realised. Some of those who opposed this 
 power had been killed, others arrested, executed, 
 imprisoned, or deported. Their relatives and ad- 
 herents naturally resented these stringent but neces- 
 sary measures. Then every other chief found that 
 he was no longer a law to himself; that he could 
 not levy taxes as he pleased ; could not kill without 
 inquiry, ravish or rob without punishment, requisi- 
 tion the labour of the raiyats without payment. All 
 these chiefs, their relatives, friends, followers, and 
 sympathisers, were secretly, and sometimes openly, 
 the enemies and opponents of the representative of 
 that authority which had, in a sense, pulled their 
 house down about their ears. 
 
 The circumstances in Sungei Ujong were almost 
 identical, but the people concerned were infinitely 
 fewer in numbers, the area to be administered much 
 more circumscribed, and, therefore, the difficulties 
 less. 
 
 In Selangor, beyond a naval demonstration, the 
 shelling of some forts, and the execution of certain 
 reputed pirates, there had been no conflict with
 
 i8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 British forces, and no British troops were ever 
 employed to support the Resident's authority. But 
 the people were worn out by years of internal dis- 
 order; the Sultan possessed no real power; the 
 Chinese had joined in the struggle, and fought 
 manfully on the side of one or other of the Malay 
 leaders, and the misery of perpetual strife had 
 driven hundreds from their homes, their lands, and 
 their country, to seek peace abroad. 
 
 In all the States the ruling class, the men of 
 influence, and the natives of the soil were Muham- 
 madans; not bigoted, as Muhammadans go, but 
 still followers of the Prophet, to whom the profess- 
 ing Christian was anathema maranatha. Lastly, 
 these Malays were then, and are still (but in some 
 particulars to a less extent), a courageous, haughty, 
 and exclusive people, infinitely conservative, hating 
 change, full of strange prejudices, clinging to their 
 ancient customs, to the teachings of the men of old 
 time, and ready to die to uphold them, or simply in 
 obedience to the orders of their hereditary chiefs. 
 Among ancient institutions was the infamous 
 custom of debt slavery, with all its attendant 
 horrors ; and, for many reasons that need not be 
 explained here, this private corvee, this enslavement 
 of men and women, of boys and girls, free-born
 
 A NEW METHOD 19 
 
 and free by the law of Muhammad, was the 
 practice most valued, most tenaciously clung to, 
 by every man of rank, of means, or influence in the 
 country. 
 
 If I seem to unduly insist upon the conditions of 
 Malay life into which the first British Residents 
 were thrown, it is not to accentuate the difficulties 
 of their task, but simply to prove a proposition, 
 which seems to me to be of considerable interest 
 and importance to all Western nations whose ambi- 
 tion or destiny brings them into direct contact with 
 coloured races. My object is to show that, when 
 the British Government at last consented to inter- 
 fere in Malay affairs, the conditions of the problem to 
 be solved were as complex as ingenuity could have 
 devised. Further, that the means employed to grapple 
 with this uninviting situation, and evolve order out 
 of chaos, were entirely novel. Finally, that the result 
 obtained has been strikingly satisfactory. 
 
 To Perak were appointed a Resident and As- 
 sistant-Resident. A few undisciplined Sikhs and 
 Pathans supplied a guard, which proved unreliable. 
 To Selangor was sent one British Resident, and to 
 Sungei Ujong a single British officer. In both 
 these last cases, the officers were accompanied by 
 guards of about twenty-five Malay Police, and they
 
 to THE REAL MALAY 
 
 formed the original nucleus of the police forces 
 afterwards raised for those States. 
 
 I myself was accredited to the Sultan of Selangor, 
 and my place of abode was the City of Festivals. 1 
 I went in a gun-vessel H.M.S. Hart, as far as I 
 remember and later, another gun-vessel visited 
 me. The officers condoled with me on my forlorn 
 position and uninviting surroundings; but I may 
 say here (as I am never likely to return to the 
 subject again), that this sympathy was thrown away 
 upon me. I was delighted to go to that snake- 
 haunted, mosquito-breeding swamp, and, in the 
 twelve months that I spent in Selangor, without 
 the companionship of any other white man, I never 
 felt the dulness of my surroundings for a single 
 day. The environment, to look at, was abhorrent, 
 and depressing beyond description, but the people 
 were strange and interesting, and made the place 
 unusually exciting. My colleagues, in the States 
 on either side of me, were rather better situ- 
 ated, and felt themselves no more fit subjects for 
 pity than I did. We spent our time getting about 
 the country, as best we could, roughly mapping it, 
 seeking out the best points for villages, police sta- 
 tions, customs houses, and landing-stages, and we 
 
 1 See "A Silver-point."
 
 A NEW METHOD 21 
 
 did what we could to meet, and make friends with, 
 all the influential people of the country. Then came 
 the real difficulties. 
 
 In the Pangkor Engagement are two clauses that 
 practically placed the whole administration in the 
 hands of the Resident. They are these : 
 
 " Clause VI. That the Sultan receive and pro- 
 vide a suitable residence for a British officer, to 
 be called Resident, who shall be accredited to his 
 Court, and whose advice must be asked and acted 
 upon in all questions other than those touching 
 Malay religion and custom." 
 
 " Clause X. That the collection and control of all 
 revenues and the general administration of the country 
 be regulated under the advice of these Residents." 
 
 It is evident that the collection and control of all 
 revenue, and the tendering of advice which must 
 be acted upon, cover all executive authority. In 
 August 1876, however, the Secretary of State's 
 instructions were sent to the Residents of Perak 
 and Selangor, and it was added, " you will observe 
 that in continuing the residential system her 
 Majesty's Government define the functions of the 
 Resident to be the giving of influential and respon- 
 sible advice to the ruler. . . . The Residents are 
 not to interfere more frequently or to a greater
 
 21 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 extent than is necessary with the minor details of 
 government," &c., &c. 
 
 In May 1878, a further circular was despatched 
 to the Residents of the three then- Protected States 
 warning them that, " the Residents have been placed 
 in the native States as advisers, not as rulers, and, 
 if they take upon themselves to disregard this prin- 
 ciple, they will most assuredly be held responsible 
 if trouble springs out of their neglect of it." 
 
 The Secretary of State said the circular was 
 "both necessary and judicious in its terms," but 
 he also wrote : " I fully recognise the delicacy of 
 the task imposed on the Residents, and am aware 
 that much must be left to their discretion on occa- 
 sions when prompt and firm action is called for." 
 
 This, naturally, threw the entire responsibility on 
 the Resident, and whether he failed in character and 
 firmness, or whether he showed excessive zeal and 
 anxiety to remove abuses and advance the interests 
 of the State, he did so with the knowledge that he 
 could not run with the treaty and hold with the 
 instructions. Perak is the only State where these 
 special treaty powers were conferred on the Resi- 
 dent ; but, as every one knows, not only there, but 
 also in all the States, the Residents, by force of 
 circumstances, went beyond the instructions, and car-
 
 A NEW METHOD 23 
 
 ried on the administration with a wider authority, but 
 much on the same lines as though the States had 
 formed an integral portion of a British colony. 
 
 In India, Residents in native States are the agents 
 of the Viceroy, the eyes and ears of the Government 
 of India, a position quite unlike that occupied by 
 British Residents in Malaya, where "the general 
 administration of the country" is regulated under 
 their advice. In Egypt the task set, and performed 
 with such marvellous success, was widely dissimi- 
 lar, though, in some respects, the same kind of 
 administrative machinery has been employed on a 
 vastly extended scale. The problem now offered for 
 solution in the Philippines more nearly resembles 
 the Malay case ; though, perhaps, it would be more 
 correct to say that while there are, even there, wide 
 differences in the circumstances, the same methods 
 might be equally successful, if the opportunity for 
 employing them has not already passed. 1 
 
 From the earliest days of protection, it was laid 
 down, and necessarily so, that the Malay States, in 
 their relations with the neighbouring colony, would 
 look to the Governor as the controlling authority 
 behind the Residents, and that, in all other respects, 
 
 1 This was written before the outbreak of hostilities between the 
 Americans and Philippines.
 
 24 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 each native State would supply its own machinery 
 of government. In the gradual education of that 
 staff of officers which has grown up to assist the 
 Residents, the experience of the Straits Settlements 
 has been largely drawn upon for rules and orders 
 in the conduct of affairs. Similarly, colonial and 
 Indian laws have been adapted to deal with circum- 
 stances that had a parallel in those places; but in 
 the Malay States there are prevailing circumstances 
 utterly unknown elsewhere, and, to meet these, local 
 knowledge alone could safely be employed. 
 
 State Councils were early established, and in 
 these councils sit the Sultans, the most important 
 of the Malay chiefs, and some Chinese. They deal 
 with all legislation, and with the appointments of 
 all native headmen, with their allowances, and with 
 the civil list. They have been wonderful safety- 
 valves, and to be a member is considered a very 
 high privilege. 
 
 Slavery and debt slavery were both abolished 
 within a few years ; but, in making that simple and 
 apparently natural statement, no idea is conveyed 
 of the burning nature of this question, and the 
 exceedingly delicate handling that it required and 
 received. 
 
 In 1874, no Malay man was ever seen unarmed,
 
 A NEW METHOD 15 
 
 The men usually carried from three to eight weapons, 
 and boys of a few years old two or three. The 
 carrying of arms was gradually forbidden, and is 
 now unknown. A kris } which used to be a Malay's 
 most prized possession, has now very little value. 
 
 Vexatious taxes were at once abandoned, and all 
 the ports of the Malay States are free. The ex- 
 clusive rights of retailing opium and spirits were 
 farmed on the same principles as in the neighbour- 
 ing colony, while the Malay Governments still per- 
 mitted public gambling, under rigorous control, for 
 reasons which seem all-sufficient to those who 
 realise the impossibility of suppressing the practice. 
 The Resident's guard developed into a highly- 
 disciplined regiment of Sikhs ; communications were 
 opened in every direction ; all most important ques- 
 tions land, mines, labour, &c. were dealt with ; 
 posts, telegraphs, railways established, and water- 
 works constructed, to supply all principal towns; 
 the country was divided into districts and divisions, 
 with all the usual administrative machinery; and 
 Courts of Justice were opened at every centre of 
 population. 
 
 Smallpox and cholera used to decimate the Malay 
 population, and the fear of these scourges amounted 
 to a bad form of panic. Vaccination, sanitation, and
 
 26 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 the ministrations of qualified medical practitioners 
 have, however, altered all this ; but the Malay still 
 declines to become an in-patient of those excellent 
 hospitals which are found all over the States. Other 
 nationalities have no such scruples. 
 
 Then, of course, prisons were built ; very credit- 
 able institutions they are, and they will bear the 
 closest scrutiny. Education, too, received some of 
 the attention it deserved, and the results are pro- 
 mising. Little effort has been made to do more 
 than teach the three R's in the vernacular, and to 
 inculcate habits of order and regularity. In the 
 principal towns there are English schools, where 
 children of all nationalities can qualify themselves 
 for posts requiring a knowledge of that language ; 
 but the desire of the Malay Governments is rather 
 to supply technical and agricultural education than 
 the study of classics, science, and that higher educa- 
 tion which seems to denationalise the Eastern and 
 render him unfit for the work lying ready to his 
 hand, while it never really qualifies him to succeed 
 in careers which he comes to believe are the in- 
 heritance of those who have learned how to write, 
 or even pronounce, the longest English words, 
 without any just appreciation of their meaning. 
 
 All this sounds well enough, and any inquiring
 
 A NEW METHOD 17 
 
 mind can, by personal observation, see that much 
 has been done, and well done. No greater mistake 
 could be made, however, than to suppose that the 
 result might not have been extremely different. 
 Our neighbours, the Dutch, have had, in Sumatra, 
 an experience as unpleasant as it has been costly. 
 Even now, to imagine that any native State can be 
 treated like a British colony is culpable ignorance. 
 I have spoken of the residential system, but in 
 reality there was no system; what there is now 
 has grown of experience gained in attempting the 
 untried. A British officer, acting under the instruc- 
 tions of a distant Governor, is sent to " advise " a 
 Malay ruler and his chiefs. The officer is told he 
 is responsible for everything, but he is not to inter- 
 fere in details. His advice must be followed, but 
 he must not attempt to enforce it, and so on. He 
 must keep the peace, see that justice is administered, 
 respect vested interests, abolish abuses, raise a 
 revenue, foster British interests, do his best for the 
 State, and obey the instructions he receives from 
 Singapore; and with it all he is, at his peril, to 
 remember that he is only the adviser of the Malay 
 ruler ! Out of that somewhat difficult position has 
 grown the present administration ; and the main 
 reason why success has been secured is twofold :
 
 z8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 first, because a succession of Governors trusted 
 their Residents and supported them ; and, secondly, 
 because of that very possession of large authority 
 which was at once the strength and the weakness 
 of the residential idea. Had the authority been 
 less, the results to-day would certainly have been 
 very far short of those achieved ; but for all that, it 
 may be safely affirmed that, whilst the power for 
 good was immense, the power for mistakes, for ex- 
 travagance, for favouritism, was greater than should 
 be placed in any single hand. This was the real 
 flaw, and it has been removed by federation. 
 
 The Federation of the four Protected States was 
 brought about in 1895. Without abrogating any 
 existing treaty, the new departure provided for ad- 
 ministrative federation and mutual assistance, with 
 men and money ; the more prosperous and wealthy 
 States agreeing to supply funds for the develop- 
 ment of the more backward. The arrangement also 
 sanctioned the appointment of a Resident-General, as 
 the agent and representative of the British Govern- 
 ment, under the High Commissioner, and the States 
 undertook to raise a force of Indian soldiers for 
 service in any part of the Peninsula, or, if required, 
 in the neighbouring British colony. 
 
 After a three years' trial it is possible to speak
 
 A NEW METHOD 29 
 
 of United Malaya, with some degree of confidence. 
 The experiment has proved a distinct success, and 
 the difficulty is to refrain from saying all it has 
 accomplished. It has brought the Malay rulers 
 together and made them friends, and, while proving 
 the reality of a union that could otherwise have 
 never come home to them, it has given them an 
 increased. feeling of importance and pride, by reason 
 of their connection with a wider theatre of influence 
 and action. It has thereby proved to them that we 
 fulfil our promises, and desire to put the Malay 
 ruling classes forward, rather than set them aside. 
 As long as they are satisfied on this point, they 
 prefer to leave all matters of detail to the Residents. 
 Then federation has secured uniformity, and it 
 wanted federation to show how many and wide the 
 differences were, and how rapidly they were in- 
 creasing. It has certainly secured a higher standard 
 of administration in all departments. It has given 
 most of the senior officers of Government valuable 
 opportunities of official intercourse with their col- 
 leagues throughout the Federation. This is specially 
 the case as regards the Residents. It has given the 
 Malay States a Judge, a Legal Adviser, and a Secre- 
 tary for Chinese Affairs, whose services have already 
 been of the utmost value. It has enabled the re-
 
 30 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 sponsible officers to agree to identical laws to deal 
 with lands, mines, civil and criminal procedure, and 
 many other matters of first-rate interest. It has 
 combined the civil services of all the States ; it has 
 produced a highly-disciplined regiment of Indian 
 soldiers, called the Malay States Guides, and re- 
 organised the police forces under the direction of 
 one Commissioner. 
 
 Lastly, the Federation has assumed responsibility 
 for all the money advanced by the Straits Colony to 
 Malay States, and the present Secretary of State for 
 the Colonies (Mr. Chamberlain), has conferred on 
 the union the greatest benefit that has ever yet 
 fallen to its lot, by sanctioning the raising of a small 
 loan to construct about 170 miles of railway, and so 
 complete the through line from a point on the main- 
 land opposite Penang, through Province Wellesley 
 (in British territory), Perak, and Selangor, to the 
 capital of the Negri Sembilan, whence there is already 
 an existing line to the coast at Port Dickson. This 
 extension should be completed in 1902, and, with 
 existing lines, will give the Malay States about 350 
 miles of metre-gauge railway. Had the Straits 
 Settlements and the Malay State of Johore, during 
 the last fifteen years, pursued the same policy as 
 that followed in Federated Malaya, the year 1902
 
 A NEW METHOD 31 
 
 might have seen this main Peninsula line extended 
 to Singapore, with such a steam ferry connecting 
 Johore with Singapore Island, as will complete the 
 communication between Province Wellesley and the 
 Island of Penang. 
 
 I have often been asked what it is we do in the 
 Malay States. The answer is that we do everything 
 that has to be done in the administration and de- 
 velopment of twenty-five thousand square miles of 
 territory, inhabited by a population of over half a 
 million people, of different races, colours, religions, 
 characters, and pursuits. 
 
 If I have succeeded in giving anything like a 
 correct impression of the task that was undertaken 
 in 1874, when two or three English officers went, 
 with blind confidence, into an unknown country, to 
 teach an unknown people a difficult art, which they 
 had then no real desire to learn ; and, if the reader 
 has now a general idea of how far the British Re- 
 sidents, their successors and assistants, succeeded 
 in discharging what was described as " a delicate 
 task," this seems to be the place to briefly detail the 
 means by which the end has been obtained. 
 
 Having been given what, if you like, we will call 
 an opportunity not perhaps a very attractive one 
 how did we deal with it ? How did we treat the
 
 3 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 people who invited us to send them a teacher, and 
 then, having obtained the real end they sought, 
 murdered their guest ? 
 
 It may fairly be said that my words convey a 
 suggestion which is incorrect. It was not the 
 Malay people who asked for the British official ; it 
 was a disappointed Malay Raja who, desiring British 
 recognition of a coveted position, offered the invita- 
 tion as a means to that end. He obtained the end 
 he sought, and he was properly held responsible for 
 what happened to the guest entrusted to his care. 
 
 The first requirement was to learn the language 
 of the people to be ruled. I mean, to speak it and 
 write it well. And the first use to make of this 
 knowledge was to learn as much as possible about 
 he people their customs, traditions, characters, 
 and idiosyncrasies. An officer who has his heart in 
 his work will certainly gain the sympathies of those 
 over whom he spends this trouble. In the Malay 
 States the Residents have always insisted upon 
 officers passing an examination in Malay, and the 
 standard is a high one. 
 
 The main care of those responsible for the ad- 
 ministration was to keep faith in any matters of 
 agreement, and to do everything possible to secure 
 justice for every class and every nationality, without
 
 A NEW METHOD 33 
 
 fear or favour. To punish crime and redress wrong 
 is, probably, the greatest novelty that can be offered 
 to an Eastern, and, though he has been accustomed 
 to all forms of bribery, he very soon understands 
 and appreciates the change of regime, when to offer 
 a bribe is not only an insult, but will almost certainly 
 get the would-be briber into serious trouble. 
 
 It may be assumed that the leading motive of 
 government in an English Dependency is to spend, 
 for its advantage, all the revenues raised in it, never 
 seeking to make money out of a distant possession, 
 or exact any contribution towards Imperial funds. 
 The Malay States are not, of course, British 
 Colonies, and the rule I speak of has been very 
 carefully observed with them. This policy is one 
 which appeals specially to intelligent natives of the 
 East, and as long as these principles are maintained, 
 the spread of English rule can only be for good, and 
 no native race, Eastern or otherwise, will regret the 
 advent of English advice, as in Malaya, or English 
 control, as in India. 
 
 So much for what was done. It is almost as 
 important to bear in mind that those responsible 
 were careful to avoid any attempt to force English 
 views, even when English opinion seemed practically 
 unanimous on a subject, upon a people living under
 
 34 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 utterly different conditions, and who, if their voice 
 is hard to hear, may still bitterly resent what they 
 think an intolerable interference. 
 
 In all the States there were three classes of 
 natives to be dealt with ; first the Malay chiefs, 
 the hitherto rulers of the country; second, the 
 Malay people ; third, the Chinese. 
 
 In a work styled " Navigation and Voyages of 
 Lewis Wertemanns of Rome," published in the year 
 1 503, there is the following passage : " When we 
 came to the City of Malacka (which some call 
 Meleka), we were incontinent commanded to come 
 to the Sultan, being a Mahomedan and subject to 
 the great Sultan of China, and payeth him tribute, 
 of which tribute the cause is, that more than eighty 
 years ago that city was builded by the Sultan of 
 China for none other cause than only for the com- 
 modity of the haven, being doubtless one of the 
 fairest in that ocean. The region is not every 
 where fruitful, yet hath it sufficient of wheat and 
 flesh and but little wood. They have plenty of 
 fowls as in Calicut, but the Popinjays are much 
 finer. There is also found Sandilium and Tin, 
 likewise elephants, horses, sheep, kyne, pardilles, 
 bufflos, peacocks, and many other beasts and fowls. 
 They have but few fruits. The people are of
 
 A NEW METHOD 35 
 
 blackish ashe colour. They have very large fore- 
 heads, round eyes, and flat noses. It is dangerous 
 there to go abroad in the night, the inhabitants are 
 so given to rob and murder. The people are fierce, 
 of evil condition, and unruly, for they will obey to 
 no Governor, being altogether given to rob and 
 murder, and, therefore, say to their Governors that 
 they will forsake country if they strive to bind them 
 to order, which they say the more boldly, because, 
 they are near unto the sea and may easily depart to 
 other places." 
 
 The description is highly interesting, but must 
 not be accepted as altogether accurate. At any 
 rate the wheat and the horses could hardly have 
 been local products, while the reputed scarcity of 
 wood is at least curious; but no doubt the popin- 
 jays were there. Four centuries of Western domi- 
 nation have made the Malacca Malays the mildest, 
 least warlike of all their race. One statement in 
 the above account is still typical of Malay charac- 
 ter ; if the Government is not liked, the people not 
 only threaten to leave the country, they go; but 
 the cause cannot fairly be ascribed to a desire to 
 rob and murder without hindrance. 
 
 Another authority, Newhoff, writing in 1662, 
 says : " Whilst the Portuguese were in possession
 
 36 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 of it, this city was very famous for its traffic and 
 riches in gold, precious stones, and all other varieties 
 of the Indies. Malacca being the key of China and 
 Japan trade, and of the Molucca islands and Sunda. 
 In short, Malacca was the richest city in the Indies, 
 next to Goa and Ormus." 
 
 Yet another, Dr. John Francis Gomelli Careri, 
 wrote: "The Port of Malacca is very safe, and has 
 a great commerce from east and west. . . . The 
 dominion of the Dutch reaches but three miles 
 round the city, because the natives being a wild 
 people, living like beasts, they will not easily sub- 
 mit to bear the Holland yoke." 
 
 The information given by the writers of those 
 days, and even by Valentyn and other Dutch 
 writers, is meagre enough, and cannot, I think, 
 claim to be the result of personal study at close 
 quarters. In any case the adventurous spirits, the 
 robbers and murderers, probably found the Portu- 
 guese and Dutch rule in Malacca uncongenial, and 
 went back into the jungle fastnesses of the Malay 
 States, where, for nearly four hundred years after 
 the occupation of Malacca, they remained unmolested 
 by the white man. Holland's struggle with Acheen, 
 a struggle of our own time, which has lasted for 
 twenty-five years and still finds the Malays unsub-
 
 A NEW METHOD 37 
 
 dued, may perhaps suggest the cause of this im- 
 munity. 
 
 In the Malay sketches contained in this and a 
 previous volume, I have endeavoured to portray, as 
 exactly as I could, the Malay as he is in his own 
 country, against his own most picturesque and 
 fascinating background. I will not here make 
 further reference to him, beyond saying, broadly, 
 that he deeply resented our first coming, and has 
 lived to change his mind. His conversion has been 
 slow, as might be expected with one so constituted 
 and with such traditions, but still it is so genuine 
 that he will candidly confess both the original 
 feeling and the present recantation. The position 
 he occupies in the body politic is that of the heir 
 to the inheritance. The land is Malaya, and he is 
 the Malay. Let the infidel Chinese and the evil- 
 smelling Hindu from Southern India toil, but of 
 their work let some share of profit come to him. 
 They are strangers and unbelievers ; and while he 
 is quite willing to tolerate them, and to be amused, 
 rather than angered, by their strange forms of idola- 
 try, their vulgar speech in harsh tongues, and their 
 repulsive customs, he thinks it only fitting that they 
 should contribute to his comfort and be ready to 
 answer to his behests. The Malay hates labour,
 
 j8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and contributes very little to the revenues in the 
 way of taxation. He cultivates his rice-fields, when 
 he is made to do so by stern necessity, or the 
 bidding of his headmen, and he is a skilful fisher- 
 man, because that is in the nature of sport. He 
 plays at trade sometimes, but almost invariably 
 fails to make a living out of it ; because, having 
 once invested his capital in a stock, he spends all 
 the money he receives for sales, and then finds he 
 has no means to continue his business. And yet, 
 he is a delightful companion, a polite and often an 
 interesting acquaintance, and an enemy who is not 
 to be despised. He has aspirations. He loves 
 power and place, and his soul hankers after titles 
 of honour. In all these desires his women-folk are 
 keenly interested. They apply the spur, and will 
 readily consent to become the man's mouthpiece, 
 when they think the good things of this world can 
 be got by judicious flattery or tearful pleading. 
 
 The Chinese have, under direction, made the Pro- 
 tected States what they are. They are the bees who 
 suck the honey from every profitable undertaking. 
 
 A thorough experience of Malays will not qualify 
 an official to deal with Chinese a separate educa- 
 tion is necessary for that, but it is a lesson more 
 easy to learn. It is almost hopeless to expect to
 
 A NEW METHOD 39 
 
 make friends with a Chinaman, and it is, for a 
 Government officer, an object that is not very desir- 
 able to attain. The Chinese, at least that class of 
 them met with in Malaya, do not understand being 
 treated as equals ; they only realise two positions 
 the giving and the receiving of orders ; they are the 
 easiest people to govern in the East for a man of 
 determination, but they must know their master, 
 as he must know them. The Chinese admire and 
 respect determination of character in their rulers, 
 and hold that it is a characteristic as necessary as 
 the sense of justice. The man who possesses the 
 judicial mind, but is too weak to enforce his own 
 judgment, will never be successful in dealing with 
 Chinese. 
 
 Until Governor Sir Cecil Smith exorcised the 
 secret society demon, the Chinese made the Straits 
 Settlements the happy hunting-ground of all those 
 societies forbidden in their own country. But in 
 the Malay States it was different. From the very 
 first these guilds, these centres of crime and oppres- 
 sion, with powers of combination for revolt against 
 every form of government, were absolutely for- 
 bidden, and in Perak it was for many years a 
 capital offence to belong to any such organisation. 
 Under present conditions the Chinese are the bone
 
 40 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and sinew of the Malay States. They are the 
 labourers, the miners, the principal shopkeepers, 
 the contractors, the capitalists, the holders of the 
 revenue farms, the contributors of almost the whole 
 of the revenue ; we cannot do without them. 
 
 The Hindu, the Tamil, the native of Southern 
 India, is, by comparison, a poor thing ; oily in body, 
 cringing in demeanour, and maddening in speech. 
 But for all that he is very useful, whether as a 
 labourer on a plantation, a cattle keeper and cart 
 driver, a washerman, or a barber. The Malay 
 States would be glad to get more of these people ; 
 and they have this advantage over the Chinese, that 
 while the Indian women and children emigrate with 
 the men of the family, the Chinese do not. Out of 
 a population of, say, 200,000 Chinese, there are 
 only 3000 women. 
 
 The stewardship of British officers in the Malay 
 States has lasted for twenty-five years, and it may 
 be interesting to enumerate some of the visible 
 results of their " advice," which is now, with greater 
 candour, admitted to be control. 
 
 One hundred and seventy-five miles of railway 
 have been built and equipped with rolling-stock, out 
 of current revenues ; and extensions, aggregating 
 much the same mileage, are, as already stated, now
 
 A NEW METHOD 41 
 
 under construction, and should be completed in 
 1902. This seems a small achievement, dawdling 
 and slow beyond belief; but neither the city of 
 London nor the War Office has taken any interest 
 worth speaking of in the Malay Peninsula, and, so 
 far, there has been a total absence of that rivalry 
 with foreign powers which seems to add a special 
 value to some remote countries, without any very 
 evident attractions of their own. Therefore the 
 Malay States have had to rely upon their own 
 resources, and, first, to provide funds to meet the 
 ordinary expenses of government, after satisfying 
 the reasonable demands of a number of native 
 chiefs; secondly, to construct roads, public build- 
 ings, and other necessary works; and, lastly, to 
 find a surplus from the annual revenues with which 
 to build railways. It is only now that a compara- 
 tively insignificant sum has been borrowed to push 
 on the railways a trifle more rapidly than would 
 otherwise have been possible. More than half the 
 cost of the present extensions must be supplied 
 from general revenues. More than 2000 miles of 
 excellent roads and 1000 miles of telegraphs have 
 been made and paid for out of revenue. Five im- 
 portant schemes of waterworks have been completed, 
 and much has been done for irrigation, on which it
 
 42 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 is intended to spend about $700,000 in one district. 
 Lighthouses have been erected, wharves provided, 
 prisons, hospitals, schools, barracks, and handsome 
 public offices constructed. A trigonometrical survey 
 of the Western States is being pushed on, public 
 gardens have been laid out, and museums instituted. 
 A good deal has been spent on experimental agri- 
 culture, and the States are alive to the immense 
 importance of encouraging all forms of permanent 
 and profitable cultivation. 
 
 Some figures will best illustrate the rapid ad- 
 vancement and present importance of the States. 
 The first year of which it is possible to give any 
 statistics is 1875, and on the opposite page is the 
 record of revenue, at intervals of five years, down 
 to 1895, with tne actual returns for 1898. 
 
 The combined revenues of the four States 
 amounted, last year, to over $9,000,000, and for the 
 present year they will exceed $11,000,000, which 
 means that, in the time British Residents have 
 controlled the finances of the Protected States, they 
 have succeeded in increasing the revenues over 
 twenty-fold, and Ceylon is now the only English 
 Crown colony which can show higher figures. The 
 principal revenue is derived from an ad valorem 
 export duty on tin (five-sixths of the world's pro-
 
 A NEW METHOD 
 
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 44 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 duce of that metal coming from the Malay States), 
 and an import duty on opium. Then there are the 
 excise farms; land rents, which give about half a 
 million dollars annually ; and the railway receipts, 
 amounting to one and a quarter million of dollars. 
 Stamps, court fees, and so on, make up the balance. 
 
 The trade of the Federated States is worth more 
 than sixty millions of dollars annually, and it is made 
 up of real imports consumed, and real exports pro- 
 duced, in the States. That is a fact which is of 
 some importance to the British manufacturer and 
 consumer. 
 
 One source of wealth and revenue is still unde- 
 veloped, but it may exceed all others in value, and 
 attract to the Malay Peninsula the European capital 
 and enterprise of which it has so far seen compara- 
 tively little. I allude to the mining of gold. The 
 industry is one which has been followed by natives 
 for centuries, but their rude methods were unable 
 to deal with deep mining in rock. For nearly ten 
 years a few companies have been at work in Pahang, 
 where they have had great difficulties to contend 
 against ; but, in some cases, these have been over- 
 come, and the reward of patience, skill, devotion, 
 and energy is in sight. 
 
 Planting on any considerable scale is in European
 
 A NEW METHOD 45 
 
 hands, and every possible encouragement is given 
 to those willing to devote their money and abilities 
 to agricultural enterprises. But with this excep- 
 tion, and that of a very few mining ventures, the 
 development of the Malay States is the outcome of 
 native capital, native labour, and native energy, 
 fostered, directed, and encouraged by the officers of 
 Government. That is one of the peculiar features 
 of the administrative experiment I have tried to 
 describe. The success of that experiment is due, 
 in a very unusual degree, to the enthusiasm, energy, 
 ability, and devotion of the Government servants 
 throughout the Federation. It would, I believe, be 
 difficult to find anywhere a body of men who have 
 more fully given the best of all they had to the 
 service of their employer, and the Malay States have 
 been fortunate in securing men who have taken a 
 pride in their work, and while they had to " scorn 
 delights and live laborious days," were satisfied if 
 they could show that the district, the department, 
 the charge whatever it might be was developing, 
 in material progress or efficiency, while in their 
 hands. This applies to civil servants of all classes, 
 of all nationalities, and I am specially glad to think 
 how many Malays are included in that category. A 
 healthy rivalry, between the States and between
 
 46 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 officers, undoubtedly gave the spur to many a man 
 depressed by isolation, harassed by the manifold 
 nature of his tasks, and wearied by the deadly 
 enervation of the climate. That was mainly in the 
 early days ; things are easier and life more comfort- 
 able now, though there are still some very solitary 
 stations. A good many of those who began the work 
 are dead, and a good many have gone invalided, or 
 to seek better prospects ; but, to speak collectively 
 of those who remain, there is amongst them the 
 same spirit, the same earnest desire to " make " 
 the Malay States, that ever there was ; and there is 
 a vast deal more experience and knowledge of how 
 the business of government ought to be carried on 
 in all its branches. Withal, I believe, there is just 
 as high a standard of honour and honesty amongst 
 the European officers of the Protected Malay States 
 as in any other society of English public servants. 
 
 There are two roads to possession and power, 
 there may be more, but there are two at least : one 
 is by force of arms and the " mailed hand," the 
 other is by force of character and the exercise of 
 certain qualities which compel respect and even 
 sometimes win affection. Of the two, any one 
 who has tried both knows which most appeals to 
 him. Conquest and physical mastery is, to most
 
 A NEW METHOD 47 
 
 healthy-minded Englishmen, the finest game in all 
 the world, and, to those who have had the luck to 
 take part in it, a really good fight is the acme of 
 man's enjoyment. The grim excitement of war, the 
 thrill of battle, the quickening pride of race, the 
 inspiring traditions of heroism and sacrifice, the 
 shock of arms, and the ecstasy of victory, which 
 shouts in delirious joy lest it should choke with 
 unexpected tears appeal to instincts higher than 
 those of the mere savage. It is an experience to 
 live for, worth dying for; with reward, and fame, 
 and praise, following hard upon the heels of success. 
 The other, the more excellent way, lacks in bril- 
 liance, in scenic effect, in excitement, and often in 
 recognition, much of what the first possesses. The 
 history of successful conquest may be the record of 
 a day's decisive fight. British influence in Malaya, 
 the influence of the last quarter of the nineteenth 
 century, began with a military expedition which 
 attracted small attention, for it cost the country 
 little in blood and nothing in treasure. The ex- 
 pedition was punitive, and what was required was 
 done quickly and effectually. For what has been 
 achieved since, the qualities required were courage 
 and resource, combined with a tireless energy, sym- 
 pathy with the people of the land, their customs and
 
 48 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 prejudices, and that enthusiasm for the work en- 
 trusted to them, that determination to compel 
 success, which is characteristic of the class which 
 sends its sons to the uttermost parts of the earth to 
 preach the gospel of freedom, justice, and British 
 methods of administration. 
 
 It is obvious that this is no place to mention the 
 names of officers who have been, or are now in the 
 service of the Malay Governments. Those who 
 know anything of the modern history of the States 
 will no more forget what was done for them by 
 Governors Sir Frederick Weld and Sir Cecil Smith, 
 than they will that Sir Andrew Clarke initiated the 
 whole policy of British protection, and that, both 
 federation and the railway loan were sanctioned dur- 
 ing the government of Sir Charles Mitchell, the first 
 High Commissioner for the Malay States. Of all 
 that has been done, and of all that will hereafter be 
 done, the greatest achievement of British influence 
 in Malaya is the enormous improvement in the con- 
 dition of the Malays themselves. They are freer, 
 healthier, wealthier, more independent, more en- 
 lightened happier by far than in the days of 
 Malay rule. Therein is cause for real satisfaction. 
 It is not only that the country has prospered under 
 British guidance, not only that it has roads and
 
 A NEW METHOD 49 
 
 railways, telegraphs, hospitals, schools, and many 
 other signs of progress, but it is that, in bringing 
 about the marvellous change that has taken place, 
 the advisers have gained the real good-will of the 
 people of the land. The chiefs have been propitiated, 
 and proper allowances have been allotted to them 
 while they have shared, in a greater or less degree 
 in everything that has been done. The rulers and 
 their chiefs do not feel that they have been set aside 
 or ignored ; indeed, as a matter of fact, there are, at 
 this moment, a good many more Malays holding 
 high offices of State than there were in 1874. It is 
 not only an honour and distinction to be nominated 
 to such an office, but, besides a title, it gives the 
 holder a sense of power, of having a part in the 
 government of the country, and that is a Malay's 
 highest ambition. Moreover, every such office is 
 remunerated in accordance with ancient custom, 
 and, in the selection of those who shall hold these 
 posts, the ruler and his Malay advisers have practi- 
 cally a free hand. It is difficult to over-estimate 
 the value of thus securing the influence and good- 
 will of the Malay ruling class. The men chosen for 
 these offices are not always the most intelligent or 
 the most reputable members of the community, but 
 they always have claims and influence.
 
 50 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 The Malay raiyats have gained the right to live, 
 to be free, to be as all other men in the sight of the 
 law. Their lands are their own ; their wives and 
 children are subject to no man's beck or call ; their 
 service can no longer be requisitioned without wage, 
 or the produce of their labour seized without pay- 
 ment. Not a single necessary of their lives is 
 taxed. The guiding principle of Malay life is, 
 " sufficient for the day," and improvidence is the 
 heritage of the people. Therefore, their cares are 
 fewer, and their enjoyment possibly greater, than is 
 the case with the same class in other countries. As 
 there is no longer anything to interfere with the 
 safe-keeping of all that they can gain, it is pos- 
 sible that they will begin to develop the spirit of 
 acquisitiveness. 
 
 Consideration for the Malays as the people of 
 the soil and the owners of the country has been 
 set before all other considerations, in the evolution 
 of the residential system. In impressing that rule 
 upon the minds of his officers, and insisting upon 
 its observance, no single individual was so earnest 
 as Sir Hugh Low, who for the twelve years, 1877- 
 1889, was British Resident in Perak. His advice, 
 control call it what you will was given at the 
 most critical period of the recent history of the most
 
 A NEW METHOD 51 
 
 important of the Malay States. What Perak owes 
 to his administration, and the other States to his 
 example, is not likely to be soon forgotten. 
 
 The work that was begun by Sir Andrew Clarke, 
 and continued by his successors in office, while the 
 details were being worked out by Sir Hugh Low 
 and his fellow-Residents, is interesting enough in 
 itself interesting as any unique experiment must 
 be. But, behind it all, is the knowledge that those 
 who have done little or much in the cause, have 
 been working together to extend and consolidate the 
 scheme, planned by Stamford Raffles, to firmly 
 establish a great and free trading station in the 
 Straits of Malacca, and to extend British influence, 
 as far as it could be made to reach, in every direction, 
 from that point of vantage.
 
 A STORM EFFECT 
 
 IN the Malay Peninsula, about the sixth parallel 
 of north latitude, there are some small States 
 nominally under the suzerainty of Siam. These 
 States are well in the Malay Peninsula, they are 
 governed by Malays, and I say they are nominally 
 under the suzerainty of Siam, because the Siamese 
 overran this part of the Peninsula about a century 
 ago, and do not seem to have done much since then, 
 either to establish their authority, to advance the 
 interests of these provinces, or to improve the moral 
 or material condition of their people. So far the 
 benefits derived from over a hundred years of 
 Siamese influence, in what used to be the Malay 
 State of Patani, but is now divided into a series of 
 small districts under petty chiefs, have been con- 
 fined to the very occasional visits of a Siamese 
 official, the interference of the Bangkok Government 
 whenever a European sought any mining or other 
 privilege, and the claim to deal with questions of 
 
 53
 
 A STORM EFFECT 53 
 
 succession to the chief posts of authority. These 
 matters, it may be said, usually lead to the trans- 
 fer of sums of money, from persons interested 
 in the States to other persons interested in the 
 transfer. 
 
 Some years ago, an English company held a con- 
 cession to work galena in one of the States under 
 Siamese influence. The enterprise was carried on 
 for a considerable time, but ended in failure, for 
 reasons that need not to be entered into here. The 
 undertaking never assumed very large proportions, 
 or promised any great success; but the company 
 kept a number of Chinese labourers employed on 
 the works, with one or more Europeans to super- 
 intend the business. As usually happens, when 
 forest is first cleared in order to start some new 
 enterprise, the galena mines were not over healthy, 
 and a good many of the labourers (coolies, as they 
 are called here) died. 
 
 Every one knows that the Chinese are a peculiar 
 people, and a good deal might be written to illustrate 
 their peculiarities, in even such an insignificant case 
 as the working of a galena mine, under European 
 direction, in the Malay Peninsula. However, it may 
 be briefly stated, as a fact, that even so small an 
 undertaking as this one, employing not more than a
 
 54 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 hundred and fifty Chinese in all, will probably have 
 amongst them men coming from two, three, or more 
 different districts in China, speaking different dialects 
 that amount to different languages, belonging to 
 different tribes and different secret societies ; ready 
 at the shortest notice, and for the smallest reason, to 
 beat each other into jelly, by individuals, or to enter, 
 in bodies, upon a war of extermination. The man 
 who is carpenter or blacksmith at a mine will have 
 nothing in common with the coolies, and none of 
 these will be able to understand the speech, or sym- 
 pathise with the aspirations, of the gardener or the 
 house servant : and yet all are Chinese. 
 
 These elementary facts are stated, merely to ex- 
 plain how it was that, at this particular galena mine, 
 the manager had made a contract, with a party of 
 Hok-kien Chinese, that they should bury every dead 
 Chinese coolie, at the uniform and moderate rate of 
 two and a half dollars (then about seven shillings 
 and sixpence) " per tail." 
 
 Chinese coolies live in parties of ten, twenty, forty, 
 fifty, a hundred, or even more, in a large and lofty 
 shed, the roof and walls of which are made of palm 
 leaves. The floor is of earth, there is no ceiling and, 
 usually, no windows. There are door spaces, but no 
 doors to close them. Sometimes the eaves come
 
 A STORM EFFECT 55 
 
 down rather low, and there are no walls at all. 
 The roof is supported on posts, and the ground 
 within the shed is covered by very rough, wooden 
 bed-places, made to carry a mat. Over each of these 
 a thick mosquito curtain hangs, night and day, by 
 strings from the roof. A Chinese pillow and blanket 
 constitute the other trappings of this primitive bed. 
 
 When a coolie dies, the processes of laying out, of 
 conveyance to the burial ground, and planting in the 
 earth, are simplicity itself. Some one sleeping near 
 becomes alive to the fact that his neighbour is dead. 
 The headman of the shed is informed, and perhaps 
 he looks at the corpse. Then word is sent to the 
 burial contractor (where matters are arranged on 
 that footing), and he despatches three or five men to 
 dispose of the corpse. 
 
 The strings of the mosquito-net are cut, and the 
 curtain falls on the body. Then the mat is folded 
 over it, from one side and the other, the ends are 
 turned over, the whole is tied with a cord, and the 
 parcel is ready for removal. If the burial party con- 
 sists of five men, the shoulders or head of the corpse 
 are slung to one carrying stick, the feet to another. 
 The bearers walk two to each stick, and literally 
 run away with their burden ; the fifth man jogging 
 on in front with a lighted cholok, a slender stick of
 
 56 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 incense, that smoulders under almost any conditions 
 of weather. 
 
 The galena mine was situated in rather low, 
 marshy land. The Chinese burial-ground was on a 
 neighbouring hill, reached by a wide cart track pass- 
 ing through rocky ground, clear of jungle. Along 
 this road, one day, a contract burial party was carry- 
 ing the body of one of the company's labourers. It 
 was about 2 P.M., and the morning had been exces- 
 sively hot with that heat which tells so clearly of an 
 atmosphere charged with electricity. As the party 
 came in sight, the air was stifling, and not a leaf 
 stirred. Half the sky was as molten brass, while 
 the other half was covered by a gigantic black rain- 
 cloud, which had appeared within the last half-hour. 
 Suddenly there was a blinding flash of lightning, 
 and a simultaneous clatter of deafening thunder, 
 followed, almost immediately, by a few enormous 
 splashes of rain. The burial party staggered for a 
 moment, but held on, rather increasing its pace. 
 The sunlight vanished, and a blast of wind suddenly 
 rushed down the road, tearing the leaves from the 
 trees, and whirling a cloud of dust before it. An- 
 other flash of lightning, which seemed to strike the 
 earth at their feet, another deafening peal of thunder, 
 and then a deluge of rain; a kind of water-spout
 
 A STORM EFFECT 57 
 
 which hissed over the road, and beat on the sand 
 and gravel till they jumped several inches from the 
 ground. That was too much for the burial party, 
 in their exceedingly light clothing ; so, without cere- 
 mony, they dropped their burden in the middle of 
 the road, and rushed to the shelter of an over- 
 hanging rock, which stood a few yards away on 
 their left. 
 
 Whilst the bearers sit, smoking and chattering 
 under their rock, the storm wastes its fury on the 
 hillside. For ten minutes the sheet of rain is 
 rent by successive flashes of lightning that blind 
 the eyes, and the dazzling electric fluid plays, 
 close round the corpse, in vivid blue streams and 
 forks of fire, intensifying the gloom of those short 
 intervals made dark by the ceaseless downpour of 
 floods of water, which seem to be thrown viciously to 
 scourge the earth. The roar and rattle of thunder 
 is almost ceaseless ; while the lightning is so close 
 that its peculiar crackling sound is, every now and 
 then, distinctly heard. The road is a river. The 
 water beats angrily against the dead man's head, 
 divides into two streams, which swirl round his 
 sides, and, uniting below the obstruction, dash down 
 the road, tearing it into great holes, and sweeping 
 gravel, pebbles, and fair-sized boulders in their head-
 
 58 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 long course rush down the hill to swell a neigh- 
 bouring torrent. 
 
 Gradually the fury of the elements abates ; there 
 are longer intervals between the flashes of lightning ; 
 the thunder is deeper, has more volume, and jrolls 
 into a re-echoing distance. The violence of the 
 rain decreases, it no longer whips the ground, and, 
 as the thick downpour diminishes, the curtain of 
 darkness rises somewhat, and gusts of wind blow 
 wisps of water in every direction. A glint of sun- 
 shine strikes across the hill, but disappears, as 
 fast-driven clouds again shut out the light. One 
 of these inky blacknesses, from which occasionally 
 darts a zigzag of blue flame, is moving away down 
 wind, and, in the now wider intervals between the 
 grumbling of the thunder, can be heard the hiss of 
 the retreating rain storm. 
 
 All this time perhaps half-an-hour or less the 
 dead man has lain where he was dropped, in the 
 middle of the road. There he is now, but something 
 extraordinary has happened to him, for, when the 
 coolies threw him down, in their haste to get to 
 shelter, his body lay straight and stiff enough, 
 rolled in its simple shroud of mosquito curtain, with 
 the thin grass mat for all its coffin. The bundle 
 has not only been exposed to the full violence of
 
 A STORM EFFECT 59 
 
 the storm, but, for a considerable time, it lay in a 
 river of pitilessly cold rain-water. The corpse is in 
 the same place still ; but, by some miracle, instead 
 of lying out stark and straight, it seems to be sitting 
 up. For the half towards the hill, that is the upper 
 half of the body, is now at right angles to the lower 
 half, this attitude having been gained after many 
 ineffectual wriggles in the mud of the still streaming 
 road. 
 
 That black cloud is disappearing over a distant 
 jungle, and the sun is again flooding forest and hill- 
 side, rock and road, with an intense and blinding 
 glory; turning the scattered rearguard of the rain 
 storm into a shower of golden dew-drops. The 
 road literally blazes with light, in the surrounding 
 green, and, drawn by the sun's heat, a cloud of 
 steam is already rising from it. The wreaths of 
 vapour are caught by a faint breeze, and, as they 
 sweep across the road, are wafted lightly round that 
 half-bent mat, and absorbed into the shimmering 
 atmosphere. 
 
 The members of the burial party, having con- 
 sumed a large number of straw cigarettes, loaded 
 with infinitesimal quantities of Chinese tobacco, 
 having abused their masters, complained of the in- 
 sufficiency of their wages, and detailed their more
 
 60 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 recent escapades, come forth from the rock with the 
 carrying sticks, to seek their burden, complete their 
 task, and earn the two and a half dollars, of which 
 very little more than half will fall to their share. 
 As the first man comes up, and realises that the 
 corpse has taken upon itself to assume an entirely 
 new attitude, he is for a moment speechless with 
 astonishment. Only for a moment, however; the bare 
 idea of a dead man, half-way to the burial ground, 
 sitting up, and as it were coming to life again, after 
 one has taken the trouble to set him so far on his 
 way, is a liberty not to be put up with for a moment. 
 Coolie number one exclaims : " Ah ! you miserable 
 son of a misguided mother ! you would, would you 
 take that!" Suiting the action to the word, he 
 swings the heavy carrying stick through the air, 
 and brings it down, with a resounding thud, on the 
 erect portion of the mat. Something like a groan 
 comes from the inside of the bundle, and the thing 
 sways over. To help it along, coolie number two 
 gives it another double-handed blow, screaming at 
 the top of his voice, "You would give us all that 
 trouble for nothing, would you, you accursed wretch ; 
 may pigs uproot your uncoffined body, and wild 
 dogs worry your bones." 
 
 The half of the bundle that was upright is now
 
 A STORM EFFECT 61 
 
 on the ground, and, while all the members of the 
 party strain their vocabularies to find suitable terms 
 of abuse for so thoroughly abandoned a scoundrel 
 as this Cantonese-come-to-life, the sticks are kept 
 plying on the mat, and change hands several times 
 in the operation, in order that every one may have 
 an opportunity of showing his contempt for a thing 
 that would try to play such a scurvy trick on a 
 party of honest workmen. 
 
 The mat seems to give a convulsive wriggle or 
 two, but before the blows of the carrying sticks 
 cease, the bundle has, for all practical purposes, 
 resumed the shape and position it had before the 
 thunder storm worked its most inconvenient miracle. 
 When the coffin is once more slung, and the burial 
 party is ready to start afresh, the only real differ- 
 ence is, that there is a wet, red stain on the under 
 side of that end of the bundle which contains the 
 head of the corpse. 
 
 The odd man lights an incense taper and takes 
 his place at the head of the party; the bearers 
 settle their sticks comfortably on their shoulders, 
 and, an instant later, the five men are swinging 
 along the road, at that peculiar jog-trot, invariably 
 adopted by Chinese carrying a heavy load with a 
 stick.
 
 62 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 After the storm, everything seems intensified. 
 The sun shines with superb brilliancy, the sky is 
 radiantly blue, the clouds are marvellously white. 
 The greens of the forest are deeper and of the grass 
 more intensely emerald ; the shadows of rock and 
 tree are sharper, the songs of the birds clearer, the 
 crickets scream more shrilly in the grass, the croak 
 of the frogs is hoarser than an hour ago. Nature 
 smiles, and the hearts of the burial party are glad 
 not because they are in sympathy with nature, but 
 because the burial-ground is in sight, and they have 
 almost earned their reward. If the road is stained, 
 at uncertain intervals, by crimson blood-clots that 
 sometimes dye the feet of the bearers, the fact does 
 not interfere with the certainty that the galena 
 mining company will pay two dollars and a half for 
 the contract burial.
 
 A SILVER-POINT 
 
 WHEN Fate took me to Langat, in the Malay 
 State of Selangor, and left me to reside with 
 his Highness the Sultan of Selangor, I was sud- 
 denly thrust into a state of society so peculiar, that 
 I have never since met with anything that at all 
 resembled life in the tottering dwellings of Bandar 
 Termasa, the City of Festivals. 1 Though I have 
 referred to the place before, it merits a rather more 
 particular attention than I then gave it ; for it has 
 already ceased to exist, and there is no one but 
 myself to recall its peculiarities. 
 
 Imagine a long, winding river, rising in a distant 
 chain of mountains and hurrying towards the sea ; 
 but, when still twenty-five or thirty miles from its 
 mouth, and while flowing through a flat, jungle- 
 covered plain (uninhabited, except for a very few 
 tiny riverine hamlets at long distances apart), the 
 
 1 Not the rendering I should give, but the one supplied to me by 
 the Viceroy of the Sultan of Selangor. 
 
 63
 
 64 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 river makes a wide bend towards the coast. Just 
 at the apex of the bend, a few years before the time 
 I write of, a narrow ditch, a couple of hundred yards 
 in length, had joined this river with a deep and wide 
 tidal inlet, seven miles in length. Up this inlet the 
 rising tide rushed with extraordinary violence, cut- 
 ting down the soft mud banks and sweeping great 
 jungle trees many feet into the stream. Reaching 
 the sea-end of the short ditch, the tide poured 
 through the narrow cutting into the wide river 
 channel beyond, where it had room enough to ex- 
 pend its strength, driving before it the waters of the 
 river, both up-stream and down. For an hour or 
 two, before the flood reached its highest, the tidal 
 influence became felt in the longer stream, and, by 
 both avenues, the waters of the sea were forced 
 into the upper reaches of the river. Then the tide 
 turned, and all the immense body of water sought 
 the shortest and easiest channel back to the Straits 
 of Malacca. A swirling, turbid mass of dark, eddy- 
 ing water raced back again to the sea, tearing wide 
 the narrow ditch, hurrying trees and logs and all 
 the varied jungle growth out to, and beyond, the 
 wide mud flats of the mangrove-bound coast. In a 
 very few years the connecting ditch had disappeared. 
 The short inlet joined the long river ; and, where
 
 A SILVER-POINT 65 
 
 but recently had been dry land, a British gun-vessel 
 found water enough to carry it from the river, 
 through the inlet, out to sea. Ascending the long 
 Langat River, this somewhat curious fact would 
 then be noted that, having had the tide against 
 you for many miles, it would suddenly be found in 
 your favour, for perhaps three or four miles, until 
 the entrance to the short inlet was reached. But, 
 still continuing up the river, the tide would again 
 be against you, and running with increased violence, 
 in its hurry to get down the shorter channel. That 
 shorter channel is called the Jugra River, and in 
 the angle made by the meeting of the two streams 
 stood " the City of Festivals." A more hopelessly 
 desolate spot than Bandar Termasa could not, I 
 think, be found in all the Peninsula; and yet, it 
 was here that the Sultan of Selangor had chosen 
 to build himself a habitation of, for those days, a 
 somewhat pretentious order. 
 
 The house was raised from the muddy ground on 
 short brick pillars ; it was built of squared timbers, 
 and the roof was tiled. A portion of the surround- 
 ing ground, covered by rank grass and low bushes, 
 was enclosed by a stout fence, and a strong gate 
 barred the entrance to this enclosure. To right 
 
 and left of this house were a dozen or so of miser- 
 
 E
 
 66 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 able hovels, dignified by the title of shops. Their 
 backs were towards the river, their fronts faced a 
 narrow, greasy path cut through the swamp. The 
 exact corner, made by the junction of the streams, 
 contained a few scattered huts in a grove of melan- 
 choly and diseased coco-nuts, and a long stockade, 
 with walls of timber and a palm-thatched roof, com- 
 manded the Langat River. The aforesaid path, the 
 only semblance of a road in the district, ran from 
 the Sultan's gate to the stockade. About fifty yards 
 back from that path was another plank house, on 
 wooden piles, with a thatched roof, and in that 
 house, which contained three rooms, I lived for 
 twelve months the only white man in Selangor. 
 
 My dwelling stood in a mud swamp, covered by 
 rank grass and low bushes. Twice in every twenty- 
 four hours the tide overflowed the ground, and I 
 tried, by cutting some ditches, to keep the water 
 from under the house. In the season I could, and 
 did, shoot snipe out of the window. My com- 
 panions were a young brok (the monkey which can 
 be trained to climb coco-nut trees and gather any 
 nut that is wanted) and a curious sea-bird that 
 stalked about the ditches, and when they did not 
 produce enough food to satisfy its insatiable hunger 
 hunted, caught, and ate my smallest chickens. I
 
 A SILVER-POINT 67 
 
 did not altogether believe my cook, when he thus 
 accounted for the disappearance of my only live 
 stock; but one day, hearing a great commotion, I 
 looked out and saw the cook chasing the sea-bird 
 with a saucepan. The bird had long, yellow legs, 
 and was making the best use he could of them, but 
 the cook was gaining on him, when the bird rose at 
 a small hedge and cleared it. The effort, however, 
 was sufficient to make him open his bill and dis- 
 gorge a half-fledged chicken, which ran for a few 
 feet and then tumbled down dead. The robber 
 made good his escape, while the cook vainly tried 
 to resuscitate his unfortunate charge. 
 
 Close behind my house there was a good snipe 
 ground ; a swamp, where a man would sink to his 
 knees, in black mud, at every step. It was gene- 
 rally occupied by a herd of semi-wild buffaloes, 
 belonging to the Sultan, and, when out snipe- 
 shooting, it was wise to keep at least one eye on 
 the buffaloes. They dislike white people, and the 
 length and pointedness of their horns, the uncanny 
 way in which they lay them back, flat on their 
 shoulders, while they set their wet noses at the 
 stranger, roll their eyes and snort in a very alarm- 
 ing fashion, suggest the most gruesome eventu- 
 alities.
 
 68 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 My nearest neighbour was a Raja, who, shortly 
 before my arrival, had constituted himself the 
 tracker, captor, accuser, and judge of three debt- 
 slaves, who had run away from the house of the 
 Sultan of the country. The system of debt-slavery 
 (a position of serfdom entailed by inability to pay a 
 real or imaginary debt to some powerful chief) used 
 to be a great institution in Malaya, and the tortures 
 suffered by the unhappy victims were almost in- 
 credible. Three so-called debt-slaves a boy and 
 two girls, all under twenty years of age had 
 escaped from the house and custody of the Sultan, 
 and run away. They were pursued and caught by 
 my neighbour, who brought them back to his own 
 hut on the river bank, a hundred yards above my 
 dwelling. 
 
 The boy was taken into a field and m-ed i.e. 
 stabbed to death with the national weapon, the 
 wavy, snake-like kris. 
 
 It was not the custom to kris girls, so my neigh- 
 bour's wife called the two runaways to accompany 
 her to the river, where she was going to bathe. 
 They did so, and followed her on to a log, which 
 stretched from the shore out into the stream. 
 There they were seized, and one was held, while a 
 retainer took the other by the hair, pushed her
 
 A SILVER-POINT 69 
 
 into the river, and, still holding her hair, pressed 
 her head under water with his foot till she was 
 drowned. The other girl, a compulsory spectator of 
 the scene, was similarly treated, as soon as they had 
 time to attend to her. The corpses were left lying 
 on the muddy bank, for the refection or refusal 
 of crocodiles, till friends came and removed them. 
 
 I was told that my neighbour went to the Sultan, 
 and sought credit for his zeal, saying, " I have got rid 
 of those children who ran away." But the Sultan 
 expressed his displeasure, and my neighbour, a man 
 of rank and authority, in a fit of disgust and un- 
 wonted generosity, provided winding-sheets for the 
 corpses. 
 
 The immediate cause of my residence in the City 
 of Festivals was a piracy. A Malacca boat, trading 
 to the Jugra inlet, had been attacked by a party of 
 Langat Malays, who killed (as they thought) every 
 one on board, ransacked the vessel, and, after a 
 sufficient interval, were supposed to have visited 
 Malacca. One man had saved his life by jumping 
 overboard and clinging to the rudder, till darkness 
 enabled him to swim ashore and make his way back 
 to Malacca. There he reported the occurrence, and 
 when the Langat men arrived they were promptly 
 arrested. The British Admiral on the China Station
 
 70 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 visited Jugra, with a portion of his fleet, and the 
 men who had been arrested were there and then 
 tried, condemned on the evidence of the sole sur- 
 vivor and duly executed at the mouth of the river, 
 in sight of the spot where the crime was committed. 
 
 The Sultan described the piracy as " boy's play," 
 but sent his own kris to be used in carrying out 
 the death-sentence on the unhappy condemned. 
 
 I had not been very long in Langat before I 
 ascertained, without much doubt, that none of those 
 executed had had any hand in the piracy, but the 
 lesson was made thereby all the more forcible. 
 
 We all know that with people who have no 
 political institutions, there is nothing so impressive 
 as the incontinent execution of a few innocent per- 
 sons. It is a warning not only to the naughtily- 
 inclined, but also to the quite, quite good; to the 
 intriguer and the agitator, as well as to the thief. 
 At any rate that was the effect produced in Bandar 
 Termasa. 
 
 Another distinguishing feature oi the place was 
 the fashion of its love-making, which certainly 
 would have caused surprise in any other part of 
 Malaya. The girls made assignations with their 
 swains, and met them, but never alone, in the dead 
 of night, in the darkest and most inaccessible spots,
 
 A SILVER-POINT 71 
 
 where a few minutes' conversation, a stolen caress, 
 would elsewhere have been thought a poor reward 
 for the risks run. And the risk was real enough, 
 for in those days the stroller by night in the City of 
 Festivals always carried a naked weapon, and, if he 
 met another man, was apt to strike first, and then 
 seek for explanations. The younger women re- 
 sorted to weapons for the settlement of their quarrels, 
 and a girl would stab a rival, or a faithless lover, as 
 soon as not. Indeed, there were but two things of 
 any account in unregenerate Langat courage and 
 money. It followed, naturally enough, that the 
 business of the place was piracy, its serious pleasure 
 love-making legitimate or otherwise, but mainly 
 otherwise and its lighter recreations gambling, 
 opium-smoking, and duelling. The impression left 
 on my memory is of mud, mosquitoes, and immo- 
 rality. 
 
 About two hundred yards on the sea side of the 
 Sultan's enclosure there lived a foreign Malay, 
 styled the Dato' Dagang that is to say, " the chief of 
 the foreigners " foreigner in this case meaning, 
 generally, Malays of Sumatra. 
 
 The Dato' Dagang was supposed to be a persona 
 gratissima with the Sultan, and he seemed to me to 
 lose no opportunity of ingratiating himself with His
 
 72 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 Highness. He was a man of about thirty-five 
 years of age, with a manner not common to the 
 Malays of the Peninsula, and I soon found that he 
 was cordially disliked by the Langat community. 
 He had travelled, and seen white people, both 
 Dutch and English. He seemed so anxious to 
 flatter, to make himself pleasant, and to express his 
 unbounded admiration for Europeans, that he did 
 not inspire me with much confidence, and I shared 
 the dislike the people of the place felt for him. This 
 feeling was not lessened when I found that he was 
 always trying, behind my back, to persuade the 
 Sultan not to take my advice. 
 
 The Dato' Dagang had a satellite, whom I fancied 
 even less than the planet. This was a certain Haji, 
 from Malacca, a tall, thin old man, with a stereo- 
 typed smile, the language of what is known as a 
 " sea-lawyer," and an evident desire to be out of the 
 way when there was likely to be trouble. 
 
 Besides these two there were some curious people 
 in the place, both male and female, but they were 
 not concerned in the present story. I must, how- 
 ever, refer to one of them, an old gentleman called 
 Tuan Sheikh Mat Ali, a sainted person, skilled in 
 the Muhammadan doctrine, a teacher of young men, 
 and, when occasion required, a man of war of some
 
 A SILVER-POINT 73 
 
 repute. This ancient warrior had attached himself 
 to me, for some reason or other, and was for the 
 time one of my followers, living in the stockade 
 with my police guard. 
 
 Though Tuan Sheikh was but little less than a 
 hundred years old, he had recently married the 
 daughter of the Dato' Bandar, of the neighbouring 
 State of Sungei Ujong, and as that old gentleman 
 had taken up arms against another chief who 
 enjoyed British protection, the Bandar's village had 
 been burned, and with it the house and consider- 
 able property belonging to my friend, his ancient 
 son-in-law. 
 
 These details are necessary for a proper under- 
 standing of my story. I am also obliged to explain 
 that the small State of Sungei Ujong was ruled by 
 two kings, of whom the Dato' Bandar was one, and a 
 chief called the Dato' Klana was the other. The 
 people called them the Water Chief and the Land 
 Chief respectively ; their offices were partly heredi- 
 tary, partly elective ; and they were supposed to 
 share between them the government of the State. 
 
 In his hopeless struggle against British troops 
 and blue-jackets, the Dato' Bandar had been assisted 
 by the most famous fighting man in all the Penin- 
 sula, a certain Raja Ilaji ; and when the old man
 
 74 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 had fled, and his stronghold was no longer tenable, 
 Raja Haji followed his host to Bandar Termasa. I 
 had seen the old man once in his own village, and 
 as the relations between him and his fellow-king 
 were then very strained, the nature of my reception 
 was a matter of considerable doubt. I was the first 
 white man to seek him in his own home, whither I 
 was driven by hunger and weariness. British sym- 
 pathy was already committed to his rival, and I 
 had only two or three Malays with me. But the 
 old man was cynically friendly, though hardly 
 cordial, and I spent a night in a hut within his 
 stockade. Very shortly afterwards he was attacked, 
 compelled to fly, and his village was burned. 
 
 I had never seen Raja Haji, though his name 
 was almost as great a terror in the Peninsula as 
 once was that of the Black Douglas in the north. 
 When the Raja arrived in Langat, I sent a message 
 to him, and he came to see me. Then, and subse- 
 quently through messengers, I tried my best to 
 persuade him to accompany me to Singapore, and 
 give himself up to the Governor, promising that his 
 life should not be endangered thereby. I also sent 
 many messages to the Dato' Bandar with the same 
 intent, as it was of great importance to secure these 
 two men and prevent further trouble.
 
 A SILVER-POINT 75 
 
 Whilst these negotiations were going on, and 
 success or failure depended almost on the turn of 
 a hair, the Dato' Dagang visited me, and said his 
 guest, the Dato' Bandar, was a very wicked, un- 
 grateful, and stingy old man, who neither recognised 
 the sacrifices made by his host nor the trouble I 
 was taking on his behalf. He added that, in spite 
 of the old man's bad heart and stubborn nature, 
 he hoped to bring him to a proper sense of his 
 obligations, and he would see me again. Shortly 
 afterwards the Dato' Dagang sought another inter- 
 view with me, and before he came my old friend 
 the Sheikh told me what he would say, and the 
 object of the visit. 
 
 When the Dato' arrived he explained that at last 
 his guest had, by his arguments, been convinced of 
 the error of his ways, and wished to see me and 
 thank me for all the trouble I had taken, and was 
 taking, on his behalf. He knew that, amongst other 
 things, I had walked thirty miles through the jungle 
 to try and save his village from attack, but I had 
 been just too late, and had my walk for nothing. 
 Now, he said, the old man was prepared to accom- 
 pany me to Singapore, but, first, I must see him 
 privately, as he had something important to say to 
 me. The Dato' proposed, therefore, that I should go
 
 76 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 some miles down the river, to an uninhabited spot, 
 which he indicated, and there, he said, I should find 
 him and his guest. He impressed upon me the 
 necessity of going alone, and saying nothing about 
 the real object of the journey. 
 
 Knowing what was behind this proposal, knowing 
 also that I could not then afford to quarrel with the 
 man who could prevent his guest going with me to 
 Singapore, and desiring, above all, that he should 
 not be able to misrepresent me to the Dato' Bandar, 
 I consented to the proposal, on the single condition 
 that I should take Tuan Sheikh Mat Ali with me. 
 At first the Dato' Dagang objected, but when I 
 declined absolutely to meet him without a reliable 
 witness (though I did not give that as my reason 
 for taking the Sheikh), he reluctantly agreed. 
 
 I had a fast Malay rowing boat, manned by Sin- 
 gapore Malays whom I could trust, and in that 
 Tuan Sheikh and I made our way to the rendezvous 
 at 2 P.M. The spot chosen was a lonely reach of 
 the Jugra inlet, a melancholy stretch of water en- 
 closed by jungle-covered mud banks. Many of the 
 trees, having slipped into the dark, turbid waters of 
 the stream, were standing upright in the water, while 
 the branches swayed and rocked in the rushing tide. 
 
 As we rounded a bend we saw another boat
 
 A SILVER-POINT 
 
 77 
 
 coming towards us, and this contained the Dato' 
 Dagang and his satellite, the Malacca Haji, with 
 the ancient Dato' Bandar sitting in the place of 
 honour. At their suggestion, we pulled in towards 
 the bank, and, as the two boats came close along- 
 side each other, our crews held on to the branches 
 of some half-submerged trees. 
 
 Once comfortably arranged, and the usual greet- 
 ings over, the Dato' D^gang cleared his throat, and 
 began a long harangue. He explained that his 
 friend and guest, the Dato' Bandar, had been look- 
 ing for a site on the river bank where he could build 
 himself a house, when, by my assistance, he returned 
 from Singapore. He then proceeded to enumerate 
 all the benefits I was supposed to have already 
 conferred on the old man, and all he hoped still to 
 obtain ; and he wound up a very long speech by 
 saying, that the Dato' wished to show his gratitude 
 for all the trouble I had taken in his behalf, by 
 giving me a thousand dollars, and that, if I could 
 obtain permission for him to return to Langat, he 
 would make it twenty thousand. 
 
 At this point two or three men lifted up a great 
 sack, which, by its weight, and the jangle it made 
 as they deposited it in my boat, evidently contained 
 silver coin.
 
 78 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 The satellite wagged his head, and said, " Right, 
 right," and the refugee smiled a half imbecile, half 
 enigmatic smile, and said nothing. 
 
 Addressing the Dato' Bandar, I asked him 
 whether the speaker had correctly stated his wishes, 
 and he said, " Yes ; quite correctly." 
 
 " Is there a thousand dollars in that sack ? " I asked. 
 
 " Yes, sir," he replied. 
 
 " And you really wish to give it to me ? " 
 
 -"Certainly." 
 
 "And you will add another nineteen thousand 
 dollars, directly you come back, if you are allowed 
 to leave Singapore ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well," I said, " I knew all that before I came 
 here, but as I had not seen you, and only had it on 
 the authority of the Dato' Dagang, I wanted to hear 
 from you whether it was true or not. I also wished 
 to say something to you that might not reach you, 
 unless you heard it from me." 
 
 The smile had died on the lips of the old man, 
 but it seemed to be taking a permanent and rather 
 ugly form on the faces of the Dato' Dagang and his 
 friend as I continued. 
 
 " You are an old man," I said, " and I have seen 
 you once, and am probably the only white man you
 
 A SILVER-POINT 79 
 
 ever met. You don't know our customs, and I can't 
 blame you for doing what seems to you something 
 quite natural. All the same, by whatever name you 
 call it, you are offering me a bribe, and that is an 
 insult to a white man, and I'm sure you won't repeat 
 it. With these two men it is different, because 
 they are quite accustomed to the ways of white men, 
 and they know that they have persuaded you to do 
 something that is entirely hateful to any honest 
 man. Lest they should afterwards lie about it, I 
 brought your son-in-law, Tuan Sheikh, to be a wit- 
 ness of what took place." 
 
 Then I said to my boatmen, " Put the sack back 
 again." With a will, and with grins that were 
 scarcely seemly, the boatmen seized the sack and 
 threw it back into the Date's boat, where it fell with 
 a great clatter. 
 
 Turning to the old man, I said, " I know it was 
 not your thought to do this thing, and, if you will 
 come with me to Singapore, I will do what I can for 
 you, and perhaps you will be allowed to return, but 
 of that I know nothing. Good-bye." Then we 
 pushed off, and without any salutation to my enemy 
 and his satellite, both of whom looked exceedingly 
 crestfallen, we set the nose of the boat up-stream, 
 and were soon out of their sight.
 
 8o THE REAL MALAY 
 
 The old Sheikh had, so far, never opened his 
 mouth ; but, once out of ear-shot of the other party, 
 he remarked, " If that man were a good Muham- 
 madan he could not live after hearing what you 
 said." My boatmen were very facetious at the 
 expense of the Dato' and his Haji friend, and their 
 high spirits made them pull so well, that we re- 
 turned in half the time it had taken us to reach the 
 rendezvous. 
 
 That evening, about 7 P.M., and quite dark, I was 
 reading in my hut, when I heard a premonitory 
 cough, and the Dato' Dagang came slowly and care- 
 fully up the steps, across the veranda, and into the 
 room where I was sitting. 
 
 I confess I was surprised, and far from pleased 
 to see the Dato', and I gave him anything but a 
 cordial welcome, as I asked him to sit down and 
 tell me to what fortunate circumstance I owed this 
 visit. 
 
 He looked carefully round, as though to see if 
 there were any one concealed in the gloom of my 
 ill-lighted room, and then said, "You were quite 
 right to-day, and I was stupid. There were far too 
 many people present, and you could not do other- 
 wise than decline the Dato' Bandar's gift. But now 
 it is dark, there is no one here, and I have brought
 
 A SILVER-POINT 81 
 
 the money. My servant has carried it, and he waits 
 at the foot of your steps." In the indifferent light 
 cast by the single lamp from out the room I could 
 dimly see the form of a man, with a sack on his 
 shoulder, standing at the foot of the steps. 
 
 This last move of my enemy was almost more 
 than could be borne, and I had the strongest desire 
 to run at him and send him headlong down the steps 
 to join his henchman. Fortunately, I did not follow 
 my inclination, for I never lost sight of my real 
 object, and the fact that this man would enjoy 
 nothing so much as my failure. As we were alone, 
 I did not pretend to conceal my anger, and I said, 
 "You are taking advantage of the fact that I am a 
 stranger in this country, and the guest of the Sultan. 
 But you also are a foreigner, and in the face of the 
 insult you have done me, there is no need for me to 
 pick my words. I wish never to see you in my house 
 again, and advise you to leave it while you may." 
 
 There was a table between us, and the Dato' was 
 next the door. It seemed to me that he was very 
 quickly outside, and I don't remember that he wished 
 me good-bye. He went out of the lamplight into 
 the darkness, followed by a shadowy form, bearing 
 on its shoulder a heavy sack, which, I had no 
 doubt, contained the thousand dollars.
 
 82 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 That, of course, ought to be the end of my story, 
 but it is not. 
 
 The same evening, while I was at dinner, my 
 friend the. Sheikh came and told me the Dato' 
 Dagang had gone from my house to the stockade, 
 where the Sheikh lived, and had there truthfully 
 recounted what had taken place at my house. He 
 added that he was not going to take the money 
 back again a second time, and he offered it to 
 the Sheikh, who now asked me whether he might 
 receive it. I told him he must decide that himself, 
 but as the giver was his father-in-law, and he (the 
 Sheikh) had lost everything he possessed by reason 
 of the Dato' Bandar's rebellion (as it was called), 
 this might be a legitimate means of getting some of 
 it back again. The Sheikh left me with the impres- 
 sion that he meant to accept the money. 
 
 Two or three days later, it was arranged that the 
 Dato' Bandar and Raja Haji should accompany me 
 to Singapore, but, as ill luck would have it, my 
 steam launch, our only means of conveyance, broke 
 down, and I was in despair till I found an ingenious 
 Raja, who took out the broken bit of the engine, 
 made a model in wood, and cast a replica in silver, 
 from dollars I supplied for the purpose. The sub- 
 stitute was too heavy, and we had several stoppages
 
 A SILVER-POINT 83 
 
 on the way, but we managed to reach Singapore 
 without further mishap. 
 
 On the way down I noticed, in the train of the old 
 Dato', a boy of surpassing ugliness, who attracted 
 my attention by the disproportionately-large size of 
 his head. It was shaven, and covered all over with 
 lines, so that you could not put your finger on it any- 
 where without touching one. I asked the meaning of 
 this curious phenomenon, and was told he was the 
 Date's debt-slave, and his master had " knotched" his 
 head with a chopper whenever the boy incurred his dis- 
 pleasure. As the child was not more than ten years 
 old, he must have got in the Date's way frequently. 
 
 The Dato' Bandar and Raja Haji were accom- 
 modated with residences, allowances were granted 
 to them, and they were told they must remain in 
 Singapore during the pleasure of the Governor. 
 The old man never left again, and died in Singa- 
 pore. But Raja Haji joined me in an expedition to 
 another State, where disturbances broke out, and, 
 in return for the services he then rendered, his 
 liberty was restored to him, and he was rewarded 
 by her Majesty's Government. 
 
 Sheikh Mat Ali accompanied the party to Singapore, 
 and told me that he had taken with him two hundred 
 of his father-in-law's dollars for expenses, leaving the
 
 84 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 other eight hundred in a box in charge of the police, 
 who occupied the stockade at Bandar Termasa. 
 
 Two or three days after our arrival in Singapore, 
 the Sheikh informed me that news had come from 
 Langat, by some native channel, to tell him that the 
 eight hundred dollars left behind had been stolen, the 
 culprits being one of my police and a Langat Malay. 
 In due time we returned to Bandar Termasa, and 
 found that this was true. For the moment the police- 
 man got clear away, but was afterwards arrested. The 
 other man was taken, and he made full confession, 
 pointing out a spot in the jungle where he had buried 
 his share of the plunder, and that was recovered. 
 
 Again, that looks like finality ; but I cannot refrain 
 from relating the sequel, even though it contains a 
 moral. 
 
 Months passed, perhaps even a year or more, and 
 the Dato* Dagang, finding the tide setting strongly 
 against him, left Langat in disgust, and returned, I 
 suppose, to his own country. The audacious attempt 
 at bribery only remained in my mind as an amusing 
 incident, when there was forwarded to me, under 
 official cover, a letter from the Dato' Bandar to the 
 Colonial Secretary at Singapore, written in English, 
 saying that on a date named he had lent me a 
 thousand dollars, and would be glad if I could be
 
 A SILVER-POINT 85 
 
 called upon to repay it ! When I had got over the 
 amazing effrontery of this statement and demand, it 
 occurred to me that, quite apart from any question 
 of principle, there may be unexpected risks attach- 
 ing to the acceptance of bribes, even when offered 
 under what look like safe conditions. I had reported 
 all the circumstances at the time they occurred, 
 and I did not think it necessary to do more than 
 refer to my official journal, wherein the circum- 
 stances were minutely described. Afterwards, I 
 was stationed for a time in Singapore, and the 
 old Dato' Bandar used to call on me monthly, and 
 I became accustomed to his complaints that the 
 Colonial Treasurer was robbing him. I also smiled 
 on his invariable custom of helping himself to two 
 cigars when he left my office. I knew he never 
 smoked, but he said he had friends who did, and 
 that was the same thing. Besides, he was about 
 eighty years old, and I knew he must die soon. 
 We were quite friendly before that happened, but 
 he never left Singapore. He sleeps there now, with 
 the faithful who have "gone home to the mercy of 
 God," and when he rises and has settled the long 
 account that stands against him, I feel sure he will 
 make an endeavour to secure some return for the ill- 
 advised investment of his thousand pieces of silver.
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 
 
 THE other day, I had to move from the house 
 where I have lived for the last seven years, 
 and, in the consequent upheaval of accumulated 
 rubbish specially letters, papers, and books I 
 found a note, or to speak accurately two notes 
 written on one sheet of paper, which brought vividly 
 to my recollection an incident that occurred while I 
 was living with one of the writers, Captain Innes of 
 the corps of Royal Engineers. 
 
 Innes and I had taken a house in Penang, and 
 had just moved into it. The house stood at the 
 i unction of two roads ; it was surrounded by a large 
 but neglected garden, and the place altogether 
 resembled an Eastern Castle Rack-rent, an appear- 
 ance partly due to the fact that it had not been 
 occupied for some time. The garden was a veritable 
 jungle; but the house was large and roomy, ap- 
 proached by a rather imposing flight of steps, which 
 led into a great marble-paved hall, lighted by long, 
 
 86
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 87 
 
 narrow windows, glazed with small panes of glass. 
 It was principally on this account that we named 
 our new habitation the Baronial Hall. 
 
 I remember that the stables contained but three 
 stalls, to accommodate Innes's one horse and my three 
 ponies. I thought I might claim two of the stalls, 
 but Innes's horsekeeper, a Sinhalese, in whom his 
 master had more confidence than I had, insisted that 
 his horse was of a very superior breed, and must 
 have one stall to stand in and another to sleep in, so 
 I accepted the position, and sent two of my ponies 
 to live elsewhere. I cannot say that I felt all the 
 compassion called for by the circumstances, when, 
 one night, some weeks later, as I was dressing for 
 dinner, I heard a peculiar noise in the direction of 
 the stable, and, looking out, I saw in the bright 
 moonlight the Sinhalese, face-downwards, on the 
 sand of the open space before the stable, while 
 my pony, a not too good-tempered beast at any 
 time, was apparently eating him, and enjoying the 
 process. 
 
 When we had rescued the horsekeeper, and sent 
 him to the hospital (where he remained a consider- 
 able time, and from which he returned happily 
 drunk), I pointed out to his master, that if the 
 wise old man understood the horse in his care,
 
 88 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 he was less well informed about the habits of my 
 pony. 
 
 This incident, and the fact that Innes planted 
 what should have been the lawn with guinea-grass, 
 the favourite food of his too-pampered charger, are 
 the only facts of any importance that I can remem- 
 ber, till the coming of the tinka. 
 
 Unka is the Malay name for the tailless monkey, 
 called by Europeans a Wah-Wah. I do not know 
 where that name originated, but the creature makes 
 a noise like the soft and plaintive repetition of a 
 sound that can be fairly put into letters, thus Wu', 
 Wu'. When several dnka get together in the jungle, 
 in the early morning, they will sit in a high tree, in 
 a circle round one of their number, who pipes and 
 sings, and finally screams, a solo of many variations, 
 through which runs this simple motif, and, at a cer- 
 tain point, the others all join in, calling in loud and 
 rapid tones WU' WU' Wu' Wu' Wu' Wu' ; the 
 first two or three cries delivered shrilly and slowly, 
 the others tumbling on each other's heels in a de- 
 scending scale. And then da capo, until the sun gets 
 too hot, or they quarrel, or become too hungry or 
 thirsty to go on ; I cannot say for certain, for though 
 I have watched and listened to the concert for a 
 long time, I had not patience to wait till the end.
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 89 
 
 The dnka is either black or fawn-coloured ; he 
 has extraordinarily long and strong arms and legs, a 
 face of never-changing sadness, which may on occa- 
 sion turn to an evil expression of vice and fury, and 
 somewhat formidable teeth. But, in the main, the 
 tinka is a gentle and docile creature, easily tamed, 
 and his only amusements seem to be to swing him- 
 self with great leaps along a bar, to sing the Wu'- 
 Wu' song, or to sit, in deep meditation, with his 
 toes turned in, his head between his knees, and both 
 hands clasped on the nape of his neck. 
 
 I was much shocked, one day, when I saw two 
 small dnka gambolling in a tree in front of the house 
 of a Malay head-man. There was nothing very 
 strange in the fact that these creatures should have 
 been where they were, but, what was unusual to me, 
 was to find that each was wearing a dress of cotton 
 print, one blue and the other pink, with their heads 
 appearing from the neck, their hands from the 
 sleeves, and their legs well, that was the worst of 
 it, they were hanging by their feet, and I went away. 
 As a rule, as I have already mentioned, they hang 
 by their arms, but then, with the exception of these 
 orphans, I have never seen any tinka in print gowns. 
 It only shows how unwise it is to try and clothe all 
 nationalities in the garments of Western civilisation.
 
 90 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 Again, I remember an Anka I used to know very 
 well. He was a dissipated creature, and lived in a 
 box on the top of a pole. There was a hole in a 
 corner of the box, and into this used to be fixed a 
 corked bottle of whisky and water, which gave the 
 tinka a good deal of trouble to pull out, but, once 
 fairly in his hands, he made short work of the ex- 
 traction of the cork and the consumption of the 
 contents. 
 
 Then he used to be told to come down, and, when 
 he reached the ground, he would turn a succession of 
 somersaults with a grace and agility that would have 
 made a London street-arab green with envy. But 
 I confess it was the last act of the performance that 
 I most enjoyed ; it was called " the bath." An old 
 kerosine tin, one side of which had been cut away, 
 was filled with water, and the bath was placed on 
 the ground in a suitable spot. As soon as it was 
 ready, the tlnka, who had watched the preparations 
 with careful interest, walked slowly up to the bath 
 (by the way, they walk on their hind-legs usually, 
 and drink with their mouths, not from their hands), 
 and, standing at one end of the tin, gripped the sides 
 of the bath, at a convenient distance, with both 
 hands. Then slowly very, very slowly he went 
 head foremost into the water, turning, as he did so,
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE, 91 
 
 a complete somersault, his dripping, woebegone face, 
 appearing gradually from out the water, as he 
 arranged himself to sit comfortably, with his back 
 against the end of the tin, and his arms hanging 
 over the sides, exactly as a human being might sit 
 in a bath. The tinka would recline thus for about 
 half a minute, looking the picture of extreme suffer- 
 ing, and silent protest against the unfeeling laughter 
 of the spectators. Then he suddenly jumped up, 
 and, springing with both feet on to the edge of the 
 tin, gave a violent backward kick, that sent the water 
 streaming down the hill, and the bath rolling after it. 
 
 The tinka is fond of a kitten, a chicken, or a puppy, 
 and will cling to it, quite forgetful of the fact that the 
 little thing may be hungry, and tired of these en- 
 forced embraces. The creature is very easily affected 
 by cold, and that is probably the reason why it loves 
 to hug a kitten, and cries when the warmth is taken 
 away. 
 
 According to Perak tradition, the finka, and an- 
 other species of Simian called siamang, rather 
 blacker and more diabolical looking than the finka, 
 but otherwise not easily to be distinguished from 
 the latter, lived originally in mutual enjoyment of 
 the Perak jungles. Individuals of the two species 
 quarrelled about precedence at a Court Ball, or
 
 92 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 a State Concert probably the latter. The quarrel 
 was espoused with great bitterness by all the dnka 
 and all the sidmang, till, at last, the other denizens 
 of the forest, worried beyond endurance, by the 
 constant bickerings, murders, and retaliations of 
 these creatures, issued an edict by which all the 
 Anka were compelled, for all time, to live on the 
 right of the Perak River and the sidmang on the 
 left neither being allowed to cross the river. 
 
 A friend of mine, who lived on the right bank of 
 the river, and wished to test the truth of this legend, 
 made pets of a very small sidmang and a rather 
 large Anka, for whom places were laid and chairs 
 put at every meal. They were not confined in any 
 way and their manners were indifferent, for, though 
 they were served with every course at each meal, 
 they seemed to take an impish delight in pulling 
 the dishes out of the hands of the servants who 
 passed within their reach. 
 
 As my friend was writing one day at a large 
 round table, on which a number of official letters 
 were lying awaiting his signature, I saw the sid- 
 mang climb, slowly and without attracting attention, 
 on to the table, where, for a time, he sat without 
 stirring, regarding my friend with earnest and sor- 
 rowful eyes. Then, by degrees, he gradually edged
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 93 
 
 himself towards the inkstand, and, when quite close to 
 it, dipped his hand into the pot and carefully wiped 
 his inky fingers, in a sort of monkey-signature, on 
 each of the beautifully-prepared official despatches. 
 When, at last, my friend discovered what the std- 
 mang had done, and made as though to catch and 
 punish his tormentor, the small imp disappeared 
 over the side of the table, making piteous little cries, 
 and the Anka, who had been watching the proceed- 
 ings through the window, came in and hurried his 
 companion on to the roof, where they always retired 
 to concoct some new outrage. 
 
 In spite of these signs of original sin, the dnka, 
 concerning which I have made these casual refer- 
 ences, were, on the whole, of amiable dispositions. 
 My own experience was, alas ! to be with one of a 
 different type. 
 
 A Governor, whose term of office was up, had 
 arranged with a Malay Sultan to send him two Anka, 
 to take to England, but, at the moment of his 
 departure, as they had not then arrived, he asked 
 me to take charge of them and forward them to 
 London. 
 
 I consented, and one morning a Malay appeared 
 with a letter, and told me that the dnka had been 
 landed from the vessel in which he had brought
 
 94 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 them from a northern State, and were at my disposal. 
 I was busy, and told the messenger to take them to 
 the Baronial Hall. As he was leaving, the man 
 said I should find that the smaller of the two had 
 lost his arm at the elbow, an accident which had 
 occurred on the voyage ; for the cages had been 
 placed within reach of each other, and the larger 
 monkey, who, as the man remarked, was rather 
 wicked, had induced his small companion to shake 
 hands with him, and then abused his confidence by 
 twisting his arm off at the elbow. 
 
 When I got home, in the evening, I found the 
 small finka looking very sick, and he died the next 
 day ; but his murderer was a very fine specimen of 
 the fawn-coloured dnka, about two feet high as he 
 sat on the ground, with an expression of countenance 
 that I did not altogether like. However, he was 
 allowed a certain length of cord, and lived in the 
 coach-house, where I often went to see and feed him, 
 and he received my advances, apparently, in good 
 part. One day, however, he escaped, and I had to 
 call in the services of two time-expired Indian con- 
 victs, to catch him. The servants declined to have 
 anything to do with him, and said he was very wicked 
 and tried to bite them, even when they gave him 
 food, so I determined to put him back in his cage.
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 95 
 
 I anticipated no difficulty, but, as he hesitated to go 
 in, though everything had been done to make his 
 cage look attractive, I put my hand on his back and 
 applied a very gentle pressure. In an instant he 
 turned round and bit me badly, in return for which, 
 I gave him a good beating, and determined I would 
 not trouble about him any more. I gave up my 
 visits to him, but, whenever he saw me, at any dis- 
 tance, even if it were through the Venetians of a 
 window, he would turn his back on me, seize one 
 leg with both hands, and, looking through his legs, 
 make horrible faces in a way that I thought very 
 rude and ungrateful. 
 
 After a fortnight he got away again. I felt it was 
 more than likely that the servants had connived at 
 his escape, and I was inclined to say, with Mr. 
 Briggs, " Thank God, he's gone at last." 
 
 I said that the Baronial Hall stood in the angle of 
 two wide and much-frequented roads. The front 
 road bordered a picturesque bay of the sea, but 
 behind the house was a large coco-nut plantation, 
 and here the Anka took up his quarters and lived for 
 six months or more. Once, when I returned to the 
 house after a week's absence, I found a crowd of 
 half-caste boys throwing stones at the tinka } who 
 sat at the top of a coco-nut tree and regarded them
 
 96 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 with far from friendly eyes. I sent the boys away, 
 but I realised that the owner of the plantation might 
 object to the linka, as he was probably doing, making 
 free with the fruit of this grove. 
 
 I saw no more of my charge, and left Penang on 
 a political mission to Perak, where I remained some 
 time. 
 
 Landing, on my return, I went to the quarters of 
 a friend, who was the head of the police force, and 
 he told me, amongst other news, that, only an hour 
 before my arrival, some Eurasian boys had brought 
 to him the tinka, dead, and tied on a stick, saying 
 that he had attacked them, and bitten one of their 
 number, very badly, in the hand, and they had been 
 compelled, in self-defence, to kill him. The Super- 
 intendent of Police said that this was evidently not 
 the whole truth of what had occurred, but the injured 
 boy talked of claiming compensation from me, though, 
 no doubt, the dnka had been made the victim of a 
 combined attack. Bearing in mind what I had seen 
 myself, some months before, I thought that was 
 extremely probable, and, having inspected the body 
 a piteous object tied to a long stick by the ankles, 
 while the arms had been pulled as far as possible 
 above the head and there fastened round the stick 
 by the wrists I went home, the Superintendent
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 97 
 
 undertaking to get the tinka stuffed, in an attitude 
 of deep humility, with his formidable teeth carefully 
 concealed. 
 
 Early the next morning, a servant told me that 
 two Eurasians wanted to see me. I told him to ask 
 them in, and a boy and a man made their appearance. 
 The boy's hand was in a sling, but otherwise he 
 seemed well enough. 
 
 I said, "What can I do for you?" 
 
 The boy replied, " Your monkey has bitten me." 
 
 I remarked, "And you have killed the monkey." 
 
 There was a brief silence, and I said, " Tell me 
 how it happened." 
 
 " I was going home from school," said the be/, 
 " walking along the high-road in front of this house, 
 when the monkey, who was sitting up in a coco-nut 
 tree, caught sight of me and came down and bit me." 
 
 " What were you doing ? " I asked. 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " How did the monkey get into the road ? " 
 
 " He climbed through the hedge." 
 
 " Were you the only person on the road ? " 
 
 " Oh no, there were many others." 
 
 " Then why did he attack you ? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Is that all you have to say about it ? "
 
 98 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then I wish you good morning." 
 
 Here the man broke in with, " What are you 
 going to give the boy ? " 
 
 To which I replied, " Nothing, in the face of such a 
 story as that ; but what have you to do with it ? " 
 
 " I have come as the boy's friend," he said, " and 
 if you don't pay him compensation, he will sue you 
 for damages." 
 
 " He must do what he thinks best," I said, " but 
 I would advise him to prepare a more probable story 
 than that he has just told me; monkeys do not come 
 down from the tops of coco-nut trees to bite inoffen- 
 sive little boys who are walking on the high-road." 
 
 Seeing there was nothing more to be got out of 
 me, my visitors departed, and I, forgetting the un- 
 spoken dislike of the dnka for myself, mourned his 
 loss, and felt satisfied he had been done to death by 
 the boys of the neighbourhood. 
 
 At that time, the judge of the Small Cause Court 
 was a magistrate who had had a great deal of Indian 
 experience before coming to Penang, and a few days 
 after my interview with the boy, this official called 
 at my office and said : " I want to have a few minutes' 
 conversation with you about a matter that concerns 
 you personally."
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 99 
 
 I said, " Pray sit down ; I suppose the boy who 
 was bitten by the monkey has been to you ? " 
 
 " He has," said the magistrate, " and he wishes to 
 summon you for damages." 
 
 " He is quite at liberty to do so," I said ; " but I 
 can't imagine any one placing any credence in the 
 cock-and-bull story about the monkey coming down 
 out of the tree, and attacking him as he passed on 
 the high-road." 
 
 " Oh, but I assure you," said the man learned in 
 law, "that is not at all an improbable story. I 
 knew a road in the Province so infested by monkeys, 
 that they used to come out of the jungle and snatch 
 the baskets of fruit out of the hands of people going 
 to market. No woman could pass there alone, and 
 the men used to go in parties for mutual protection." 
 
 " Of course if you know that," I said, without 
 betraying the thoughts that were in me, " I have 
 nothing more to say, but I have heard the details of 
 what really occurred from an unbiassed spectator, 
 whom I can produce as a witness, and the boy's 
 story is very far from the truth." 
 
 "Then what is the true account?" said the 
 magistrate ; " for I shall not issue a summons with- 
 out good cause shown." 
 
 " I am told," I said, " that this boy and another
 
 ioo THE REAL MALAY 
 
 were playing in the coco-nut plantation behind my 
 house (not their plantation, by the way ; they were 
 trespassers), and the monkey was sitting in a high 
 coco-nut tree hard by, watching the boys and 
 thinking about nothing at all. The boys, as boys 
 will, began to quarrel, and from abuse they soon 
 came to blows ; now," I said, " when the monkey 
 saw that, he came down the tree." 
 
 "Ah! he came down the tree," broke in my 
 friend. 
 
 " Yes," I said, " the man who saw it all says he 
 came down the tree, but the boys continued to fight, 
 and took no notice of him. Then the monkey, who 
 was a particularly intelligent beast, and had lived 
 with respectable people, felt he ought to interfere, 
 because he knew it was wrong of boys to fight, and 
 had seen them beaten for doing it. He, poor thing, 
 could not speak to them, but he walked up, waving 
 his hands like this " (here I suited the action to the 
 word), " as though he would say, ' Stop ! you must 
 not fight any more ! ' " 
 
 " What ! " interrupted the magistrate, " he went 
 like this ? " as he repeated my action. 
 
 "Yes," I said, "so I am told by the man who 
 saw it all. The monkey went close up to them in 
 his anxiety, and then, either the boys misunder-
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 101 
 
 stood him, or what seems more likely, they were 
 really bad boys, and disliked the monkey's interfer- 
 ence, for one of them the boy who has been injured 
 slapped the monkey in the face." 
 
 " Slapped him in the face ! " 
 
 " Yes," I said, " so the man says who told me 
 the story ; and then, what could you expect ? The 
 monkey, finding his good intentions misinterpreted, 
 and himself made the subject of a cowardly assault, 
 bit his assailant bit him badly in the hand." 
 
 "Ah ! he bit him in the hand ? " 
 
 "Yes, and one must make some excuses for him," 
 I said, " because, after all, one ought not to expect 
 too much from a monkey." 
 
 "That," said my friend, as he got up and took 
 his hat, " is an entirely different account to the one 
 I heard, and I wish you good morning." 
 
 " Of course, of course," I said, as I shook hands 
 with him, " I thought you would like to know the 
 facts." As I closed the door and resumed my seat, 
 I fell a-m using on the curious ways of the tinka, 
 and the advantages to be gained by a long experi- 
 ence of monkeys. 
 
 For months I heard nothing more about the boy 
 and his complaint, but some one told me that, when 
 he went again to my experienced friend, he had
 
 102 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 been driven from the presence with what is called 
 " a flea in his ear." 
 
 Without my realising that the change meant any- 
 thing to me, a new judge of the Small Cause Court 
 arrived from England about this time, and replaced 
 the Indian officer. The new-comer, of course, knew 
 nothing about monkeys, and when, just as I was 
 starting on another expedition to the Malay States, 
 I was served with a summons, claiming damages for 
 the injury done to Master Fernandez by a dangerous 
 beast described as my property, I could only ask 
 Innes to put the case in the hands of counsel, and 
 trust to my advocate's skill and the harmless, even 
 pitiful, appearance of the stuffed dnka, whose coun- 
 terfeit presentment I suggested should be produced 
 in Court as a last resort. 
 
 My journeyings took me finally to Singapore, 
 where I told this veracious story, and consulted 
 both the Chief-Justice and Attorney-General, who 
 assured me that I had no legal responsibility in the 
 matter ; indeed, I did not quite understand how the 
 complainant was going to prove that he had been 
 bitten by my finka at all, or that I could be said to 
 own, or keep, a creature that for six months had 
 lived by his wits in a neighbouring plantation. 
 However, it is the unexpected which happens, and
 
 A "GENRE" PICTURE 103 
 
 I tried to bear the news with fortitude, when I 
 received from Innes the following letter and its 
 enclosure. I never quite made out what became of 
 the stuffed dnka, but I suppose he is preserved with 
 the records of the case in the archives of the Penang 
 Court : 
 
 "PENANG, iyd September 18 . 
 
 " MY DEAR SWETTENHAM, You will gather 
 from the enclosure that the monkey case has gone 
 against us. I'm awfully sorry, and did my best in 
 the matter, I assure you. The judge counselled a 
 compromise, after hearing plaintiffs case and Bond's 
 reply, and I thought it safest to take the hint. 
 Bond, as you see, handsomely declines any fee. I 
 have thanked him on your behalf for his exertions, 
 and settled the bill, the amount whereof we can 
 adjust with other matters. I confess I couldn't 
 follow the judge's train of thought, for the story 
 didn't seem to me to tell well in the witness-box. 
 Yours truly, W. INNES." 
 
 " i8/A September 18 . 
 
 " MY DEAR INNES, As Swettenham's case was 
 compromised at the suggestion of the judge, I don't 
 intend to make any charge against him for the little
 
 104 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 I did, so all he will have to pay will be $22.95, costs 
 and damages. Yours sincerely, 
 
 " I. S. BOND." 
 
 There must have been something peculiarly malig- 
 nant about this tinka ; the slightest connection with 
 him proved fatal to so many people. The Sultan 
 who gave him is dead, and the Governor who never 
 received him ; the Chief-Justice and the Attorney- 
 General who took a friendly interest in him ; the 
 magistrate who had such an experience of all his 
 kind ; the counsel who defended him ; my friend 
 who supported him ; and I had almost forgotten 
 the man who really saw what happened to him. It 
 is almost like the tale of the House that Jack Built 
 a glorified Eastern version.
 
 SOME LAST TOUCHES 
 
 IN an earlier volume of Malay Sketches, I de- 
 scribed the appearance, and some characteristics, 
 of a Malay Sultan, who, since his death, has been 
 known as " the late Sultan, God-forgive-him." He 
 was afflicted, when about sixty years of age, with a 
 strange sickness, and after one successful bout with 
 his adversary, His Highness succumbed to a second 
 attack. 
 
 At the time of the first seizure, I was the Sultan's 
 political adviser, and when the serious nature of 
 the disease was reported to me, I sent for a skilled 
 European surgeon, in the hope that he would be 
 able to diagnose the complaint and relieve the 
 patient. The doctor propounded a theory, as re- 
 gards the disease, which may or may not have been 
 correct; but though he remained within call for a 
 week or ten days, and frequently saw the patient, 
 his services as a medical attendant were politely 
 
 declined, and he could claim no credit for the partial 
 105
 
 io6 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and temporary recovery made by the king. Be- 
 yond my desire to relieve the sick man, I was 
 interested in a case which seemed peculiar, and I 
 constantly visited the patient, to see for myself how 
 he was getting on, to offer any small assistance 
 possible, and to prevent the invalid being killed by 
 the practice of the black art. Besides these spon- 
 taneous visits of inquiry, I was, on several occasions, 
 hurriedly summoned to " the Palace " to witness the 
 expected death-struggle. 
 
 It was certainly curious to note how the charac- 
 teristics of the man dominated him in what appeared, 
 at the time, to be the last moments of his life ; and 
 there was something weirdly, yet pathetically un- 
 canny, in the gruesome pleasantries of the dying 
 king. 
 
 A powerful, loud-voiced, impatient tyrant, all 
 unused to any kind of ailment, I found him out- 
 wardly unchanged, but lying in the middle of the 
 floor flat on a mattress, with one low pillow sup- 
 porting his head, his sightless eyes fixed on the 
 ceiling. He was so weak that he could do nothing 
 for himself, and when he spoke at all, which was 
 seldom, he complained, in an almost inaudible voice, 
 of a consuming fever and unquenchable thirst. He 
 would hold out his hand for water, and when the
 
 SOME LAST TOUCHES 107 
 
 cup was put in it, poured the contents on his chest, 
 or head, or on the pillow, as though he could not 
 find his mouth. 
 
 The most pitiful sight, however, was to see his 
 helpless face and body distorted by the fit, which 
 attacked him every few minutes, so that there was 
 hardly any respite ; and often I withdrew to some 
 corner, out of sight of his agony. The monotony 
 of exact repetition was dreadful. He would lie 
 there on his back, with his head turned slightly to 
 the right. Then, very gradually, his head would 
 begin to turn over towards the left, his face and 
 limbs twitching convulsively, till, as the head got 
 over to the left side, there would be a paroxysm of 
 struggles, the knees almost hitting the chin, and the 
 face convulsed out of recognition. Then the fit 
 seemed to wear itself out, the twitching ceased, the 
 limbs relaxed and fell into their usual attitudes, 
 while the lines of the face unbent, and the patient, 
 with a sigh of utter weariness, seemed to fall into 
 an uneasy slumber. 
 
 After an interval of seven to ten minutes, exactly 
 the same thing would occur again; and this went 
 on for hours and hours, till one wondered how even 
 that strong frame could bear the ceaseless strain. 
 The only means of giving any relief seemed to be
 
 io8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 to hold the patient's head, so that it could not turn 
 to the left ; but that led to such a struggle, that the 
 cure seemed more cruel than to let the demon of 
 disease have its way. 
 
 It was in the brief intervals between these attacks 
 that the king would, apparently, recover conscious- 
 ness and speak in his right mind. He knew that, 
 amongst the many notable Malays who had gathered 
 to his bedside, there was a very holy man, and he 
 also knew that, in the weeks of waiting, this man 
 had fallen ill, and now lay in the house a fellow- 
 sufferer with himself. From day to day the king 
 would ask how his guest was faring, and one even- 
 ing, when the report was worse than usual, His 
 Highness remarked, with a grim smile and no small 
 satisfaction, that, after all, the Raja Haji the royal 
 Pilgrim would probably go to the mercy of God 
 before his master. 
 
 Amongst those who had early felt it their duty 
 to attend upon their lord was a certain head-man, a 
 frequent companion of the king in his hunting expe- 
 ditions, and a reliable servant in matters requiring 
 tact and secrecy. Many years of such service had 
 met with little acknowledgment, and less reward, and 
 I will not say that this man's presence, at his chief's 
 bedside, might not have been fairly attributed to a
 
 SOME LAST TOUCHES 109 
 
 motive kindred to the instinct which draws vultures 
 to the neighbourhood of the dying beast. At any 
 rate, the head-man's face betrayed a look of some- 
 thing less than grief, something alien to sympathy, 
 when, one night, the king bade him approach, as 
 he had something to say to him. 
 
 The head-man respectfully pulled himself across 
 the floor to a place near his master's pillow, where 
 he might hear the commands which came, slowly 
 and spasmodically, in a very weak and tired voice, 
 from the sore-stricken king. 
 
 " Come nearer," said the master, " I cannot tell 
 where you are." 
 
 "Thy servant is here, my lord," said the head- 
 man, edging himself a little closer. 
 
 "Nearer still," said the Sultan; "I cannot see 
 you. Ah ! but I am blind ; I can see nothing. Can 
 you hear me ? I would speak." 
 
 " Thy servant is quite close now, my lord," said 
 the head-man. " He can hear anything that falls 
 from his master's lips. Thy servant awaits the 
 order of his lord." 
 
 " Ismail," said the king, " you have been a 
 good servant, and I would reward you whilst I 
 may." 
 
 Ismail's eyes distinctly glistened at this encourag-
 
 no THE REAL MALAY 
 
 ing testimony to his worth this promise of tardy 
 reward. 
 
 The king continued : " Ismail, you see this ring ? " 
 Here the Sultan touched a large and valuable dia- 
 mond ring which he wore on a finger of his right 
 hand. "Come nearer, Ismail; it is this diamond 
 
 ring that I would that I would like ." The 
 
 chief seemed to be struggling to get the ring off 
 his finger, while Ismail's eyes betrayed the satisfac- 
 tion he felt, and his fingers visibly itched to touch, 
 to grasp, to close over the gem, which had in its 
 journey already, though slowly, passed one joint of 
 the finger it had so long adorned. 
 
 "Ismail! you shall have ." But at that 
 
 instant the king's face twitched, his whole expres- 
 sion changed, he thrust the ring home on his finger, 
 and as his head began to roll slowly to the left, he 
 was seized by a violent spasm which convulsed his 
 limbs- and distorted his features. As the wife and 
 attendants sought to allay the patient's torments, 
 the discomfited Ismail dragged himself painfully 
 away to a place by the wall, and, even in that 
 presence, hands were raised to hide the faces of 
 those who found it difficult to entirely conceal their 
 amusement. 
 
 Malays (and possibly all Muhammadans) believe
 
 SOME LAST TOUCHES in 
 
 that when the moment of dissolution arrives, the 
 faithful believer is blessed by a vision of the Arabic 
 letters tam-aliph thus ^ the initials, as it were, 
 of the Most High. That is, to them, the " writing 
 on the wall." One night, when I had been sum- 
 moned in all haste to witness the passing of the 
 king then believed to be imminent I entered 
 upon a scene to which I was no longer a stranger, 
 and made up my mind to a long vigil. The room 
 in which the sick man lay was crowded with people. 
 Every man, woman, and child of royal birth had 
 hurried to the deathbed of their relative and 
 Sultan, while as many of the people of the neigh- 
 bourhood as could gain admission had squeezed 
 into the room. Besides these, there were in the 
 house, and encamped around it, a heterogeneous 
 collection of priests, magicians, warlocks, native 
 doctors, male and female, and all their following 
 of minstrels and assistants. 
 
 The royal patient appeared to be very ill indeed y 
 and I could not but share the apprehension that was 
 written on every face, and expressed in the unusual 
 hush of expectancy which silenced the great crowd 
 of spectators. The tormenting fits, which had so 
 afflicted the king, came at rarer intervals, and he 
 lay utterly exhausted, with closed eyes and difficult
 
 H2 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 breathing, past the help of leech or sorcerer. In- 
 deed, the whole clan of medicine-men had retired 
 to the outskirts of the crowd, and the priesthood was 
 at last in undisputed possession of the patient. 
 
 Towards morning, after a weary night of watch- 
 ing, the king suddenly opened his eyes, and made 
 a convulsive effort to sit up. As the priest at his 
 shoulder endeavoured to support the dying man's 
 head, the king murmured, " I fancy I see it the 
 lam-aliph!" 
 
 The priest, greatly excited, imparted this news to 
 the assembled spectators, and called upon them to 
 pray for the passing soul of their master, the priest 
 leading the prayer, and the multitude, with bent 
 heads and upturned palms, saying amtn, amfn, at 
 intervals. 
 
 After a few minutes the hushed monotone ceased. 
 There was a pause. Every eye turned on the patient, 
 who lay apparently insensible. 
 
 Then a faint smile began to dawn on the king's 
 face, and he murmured, " I am not dead after all ; 
 I must have made a mistake about the lam-aliph" 
 
 I concluded the patient was safe, for the moment 
 at any rate, and as I stumbled along the river bank in 
 the darkness, I thought I recognised some points of 
 resemblance between Louis XI. and the Malay king.
 
 A NOCTURNE 
 
 ON the eastern shore of the narrow strait which 
 divides the island of Penang from the main- 
 land, there stands a small Malay village. It is like 
 many another in Province Wellesley and Malacca, 
 and a description of it will serve almost equally well 
 for all those that are similarly situated. A beach of 
 sand, the colour of pale burnt sienna, when seen close 
 to, fading to yellow and then to white as the eye of the 
 gazer becomes farther and farther removed, forms 
 a wide ribbon of light between the deep blue of the 
 sea and the dark mass of palms which rise from the 
 edge of high-water mark. The sandy soil goes 
 back inland for a width varying from two to four 
 hundred yards, and the whole of this slightly rising 
 ground ptrmdtang, as the Malays call it is thickly 
 planted with coco-nuts; while the picturesque Malay 
 huts are clustered, not close together, but within 
 easy sight and call of each other, under the shade 
 of the palms. Round each house, planted between 
 
 "3 H
 
 ii 4 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 the coco-nuts, are usually a few fruit trees ; the 
 dark- leaved mangosteen, the ramdufatt, with its 
 striking red or yellow fruit, the coarse mango called 
 bachang, which blossoms into a perfect glory of 
 brilliant magenta, and the rambei, whose fruit re- 
 sembles nothing so much as exaggerated bunches 
 of pale-yellow grapes, without either the sheen or 
 the transparency of the wine-fruit. Often there 
 will be a few durian that tree of magnificent 
 dimensions and most gVaceful foliage, which from 
 a wonderful flower produces the great golden spike- 
 studded fruit, so worshipped by its votaries, so dis- 
 liked by those in whom the repulsive smell of the 
 thing induces nothing but loathing. 
 
 Not every house, but some at least in every 
 village, will have a little square patch of sireh 
 vines, trained to climb the rough posts on which 
 the parasite hangs ; and when it has reached the 
 summit, some ten feet or so from the ground, 
 spreads itself over and round the support till the 
 wood is hidden in a thick covering of those heart- 
 shaped leaves which the Malay is, or used to be, so 
 fond of chewing with his gambir, tobacco, and 
 areca-nut. I say " used to be," because the prac- 
 tice is now in many places becoming confined to the 
 old people. The teeth of the betel-chewer become
 
 A NOCTURNE 115 
 
 black, and the "new woman" of Malaya has de- 
 termined that black teeth do not improve her ap- 
 pearance; while the Malay youth, who smokes 
 either the home-made or the foreign cigarette, has 
 no craving for the astringent flavour of the areca- 
 nut, and looks with less than admiration at 
 the crimson lips and blackened teeth of his old 
 folks. 
 
 Beyond the belt of coco-nuts, which fringe the 
 shore for miles and miles, lies an apparently end- 
 less field of rice ; brown when fallow, greener than 
 the greenest grass when half-grown, or golden 
 yellow when the grain hangs heavy in the ripe 
 ears. Behind this again another ptrmdtang, with 
 small valleys of rice running into the foot-hills, or 
 island-groves of palm and fruit trees, hiding the 
 cottages of the husbandmen and studding a great 
 sea, of level, waveless colour, whose farther shore 
 fades into the blue of distant mountains, rising 
 range behind range into the heart of the Peninsula. 
 
 From September to October or November, the 
 men of these villages clear the ground of a five or 
 six months' growth of weeds with a sort of short 
 scythe called a tdjak, plough it with buffaloes and 
 a rough wooden plough, and then, with the help of 
 their women and children, plant it, see that it is
 
 ii6 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 carefully irrigated or drained throughout the various 
 stages of growth, guard it against the attacks of 
 rats and birds, and in due time reap and garner the 
 grain. During the months when the land lies fallow, 
 the men of a coast village often take to fishing, and, 
 when the tide is suitable, spend the whole night out 
 at their fishing-stakes, getting the "take" to the 
 nearest market by earliest dawn, and then return- 
 ing to their homes to eat and sleep. 
 
 In the village I have described, Perma'tang Jambu 
 by name, there lived some twenty or thirty years 
 ago a Malay called Samat. He owned a few coco- 
 nut trees and a strip of the adjoining rice land, and 
 his house was rather newer and better built than 
 that of his neighbours, for he had married, com- 
 paratively recently, a comely damsel, the report of 
 whose beauty had already gone beyond the limits 
 of the village. The padi season was over, and 
 Smat, like his neighbours, was able to congratu- 
 late himself on a more than usually abundant 
 harvest; but the money received from the sale of 
 his padi (that is, the unhusked rice), beyond what 
 was likely to be required in his house for the rest 
 of the year, or used for sowing in the coming plant- 
 ing season, had been almost all spent in the pur- 
 chase of a pair of gold bangles for the pretty young
 
 A NOCTURNE 117 
 
 wife, Esah, and Samat had joined some of his friends 
 in putting up a fishing-stake, far out at sea, in com- 
 paratively deep water. With the profits of this 
 venture they hoped to be able to add some comforts 
 to the diet of rice, fruit, and vegetables, on which 
 they could rely till the next harvest. 
 
 Within ten miles of the village there lived, or 
 wandered, a Malay named Dris, of indifferent repu- 
 tation and no occupation, but with a certain devil- 
 may-care appearance and jaunty air, united to a 
 ready wit, a lithe young figure, and passably good 
 looks. Dris played at work sometimes, when the 
 spirit moved him, and he could do it in what he 
 thought good company ; but otherwise he lived on 
 his popularity with the unsteadier portion of the 
 youth of the neighbourhood, and his insinuating 
 manner with the ladies whose husbands happened, 
 for the moment, to be engaged on business that had 
 taken them from home. The gossips of the Pro- 
 vince said an unkind thing about Dris it was that 
 he had never been seen wearing a pair of trousers 
 but then gossips always say what is unkind, and 
 often what is not true ; and as Dris invariably wore 
 a sdrong or a kain pre, the gossips who knew what 
 was beneath these skirt-like garments knew too 
 much of Dris, or assumed to know what should not
 
 n8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 have concerned them. How far Dris was aware 
 of his reputation matters very little ; in any case 
 he appeared to be quite unconcerned, and pur- 
 sued the uneven tenor of his way, as though the 
 approbation or condemnation of the inquisitive 
 section of his neighbours were matters of no ac- 
 count. He must, however, have been in the way 
 of hearing gossip about others, if not about himself, 
 otherwise he could hardly have known that it was 
 worth while to make an excuse for visiting Perma- 
 tang Jambu, in the hope of catching a glimpse of 
 Samat's wife. Indeed several such visits were ne- 
 cessary, and usually they were made when Samat was 
 away, helping to put up the fishing-stake that was to 
 prove a little mine of wealth to him and his friends. 
 Dris was a confirmed wanderer, and no one took 
 much notice of his occasional visits to this secluded 
 spot, but it is possible that, if he always went with 
 the same object, he may have been noticed by the 
 person he came to see. It is hard to say what im- 
 pression, if any, he had been able to create, for, 
 before the voice of virtuous suspicion had had time 
 to formulate any definite charge, or concoct any 
 plausible story, something happened which put an 
 end to Dris's wanderings, and clothed him respect- 
 ably for the last, if not for the first, time.
 
 A NOCTURNE 119 
 
 
 
 The fishing season had begun, and every even- 
 ing, ere sundown, the watchers left the long line of 
 straight shore, and pulling or sailing, north-west 
 or south-west, made for their own stakes, where 
 they tied their boats, and clambering up into the 
 tiny crow's nest, sat or lay the whole night through, 
 tending the red lamp which warned passing vessels 
 of the exact position of the stakes; from time to 
 time raising the great net, and scooping out the 
 fish with a long bamboo ladle, and, in between- 
 whiles, gossiping, singing, smoking, and dozing. 
 
 The stakes are driven into the sea-bed on the edge 
 of a bank, where there is a sudden drop into deep 
 water. For deep-sea nets, they are in about thirty-six 
 feet of water, at high tide, with six feet of their length 
 above water. They are round jungle poles, straight 
 and strong, with the bark unstripped ; they are 
 fixed in the form of a pair of compasses, opened 
 to include an angle of about forty degrees, the legs 
 of the compasses so laid that the rising tide sweeps 
 full into them. The stakes are bound securely to- 
 gether with rattans, and, at the hinge of the com- 
 passes, there is a submarine gate, the latticed doors 
 of which open into a small enclosure, also made of 
 stakes, but carefully encased, from sea-bed to high-
 
 no THE REAL MALAY 
 
 water mark, with a latticed lining through which no 
 fish can escape. This enclosure is further strength- 
 ened by widely spaced cross-bars over the top, that 
 tie the whole structure together, and enable the 
 watchers to walk about over the great net, which 
 covers the enclosed space of water, and can be 
 raised or lowered at will by means of rattan ropes 
 and wooden pulleys. The tiny crow's nest, which 
 covers a small portion of the top of the enclosure, 
 is roofed with palm leaves, as a protection against 
 rain and sun, and the red lamp is a very necessary 
 prote'ction, not only for the stakes and watchers, 
 but also for passing vessels. The stakes are very 
 often on the edge of a bank, the deep water on the 
 other side of which forms the channel by which 
 small trading steamers and lesser craft approach 
 and leave the harbour. Though a steamer will 
 crash right through the stakes, breaking some and 
 tearing others out of the ground, there is a serious 
 danger to those on deck if any of the stakes get 
 canted, for in that position they will mow down most 
 things that come in their way. The effect is similar to 
 that which may be expected when a passenger train 
 meets a goods train, with a truck of iron rods which 
 have become displaced so as to project over the six 
 feet between metals and into the adjoining track.
 
 A NOCTURNE 121 
 
 Just as the moonlit Eastern night revels and 
 exults in a superb radiance and a soul-satisfying 
 perfection of intense beauty, that no language can 
 convey to those who have not seen and felt its 
 extraordinary power and fascination, so the darkness 
 of the moonless, starless, night is profound, pene- 
 trating, and so nearly tangible as almost to induce 
 one to reach up his hands and attempt to tear the 
 veil asunder, in search of a ray of light. In the 
 forest, or under the cover of any grove of lofty trees, 
 that feeling will not diminish till the light of moon, 
 or stars, or dawn, comes to gladden the wayfarer ; 
 out at sea, or on a great open plain, or wide road, 
 the eye will, after a time, distinguish between 
 deeper and paler shades of gloom. These periods of 
 "outer darkness" are most intense in the hours before 
 the rise of the moon in her third and, still more, her 
 fourth quarter, and rather less so after she has set, 
 in the first few nights of a new moon; they are 
 therefore chosen by those whose objects need dark- 
 ness rather than light for safe accomplishment. 
 
 On the fourth day of the moon, just as the silver 
 sickle and her attendant planet were sinking into the 
 expectant sea, and all the island-hills and mainland- 
 shore lay basking in a grey-blue haze, a tiny cockle- 
 shell of a boat, paddled by one man, made its way
 
 122 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 slowly up the eastern side of the straits, keeping a 
 fair distance from the shore. The solitary occupant 
 was apparently in no hurry, and he had time to 
 remark and muse upon the strange loveliness of his 
 surroundings. The shadows on the nearer shore 
 were deepening, the flickering lights of the kampongs 
 disappearing one by one, and it was evident that the 
 villagers of the Province were getting themselves to 
 bed. A few bonfires, at long intervals, showed 
 where the fallen palm branches and driftwood were 
 smouldering in the coco-nut groves, and, through the 
 stems of the trees, might be descried the tethered 
 buffaloes, standing or lying in the smoke to protect 
 their hides from the vicious attacks of mosquitoes. 
 The other side of the narrow strait was shut in by 
 the island of Penang, and on its northern headland 
 glittered the light of a great Pharos, throwing its 
 warning signal miles away to north and west ; a 
 beacon for the majestic ocean queens or the humble 
 little native craft. The island rises in its centre 
 (or rather to the north of it), in a great mass of 
 wooded mountain, 2500 feet in height, and the level 
 plain, which lies at the foot of this hill, runs out into 
 the strait in a flat promontory, covered for the last 
 two miles by closely-packed houses, while on the 
 point stands an ancient fort surrounded by a moat ;
 
 A NOCTURNE 123 
 
 a picturesque feature, but now useless as a means of 
 defence. Close against the shore lie anchored scores 
 of small coasting steamers and native craft, of cargo- 
 boats and lighters, steam launches, Chinese sam- 
 pans, passenger-boats, and fishing-boats of every 
 conceivable form and rig. Farther out, in deep 
 water and the full rush of the tide, are the ocean- 
 going steamers and large sailing vessels. A lumin- 
 ous sheen hangs close over the town, while isolated 
 lights twinkle on all the hills and down the shore- 
 line to southward, far as the eye can see. The 
 mast-head lamps of the innumerable vessels riding 
 at anchor in the roads glimmer against the haze- 
 wrapped background, and the dark hulls of some of 
 the nearer ships loom unsubtantial and unreal, as 
 though barely resting on the surface of the water. 
 
 The solitary paddler in that absurd toy-boat takes 
 all this in at one glance, but it does not sensibly 
 affect him ; he has seen it all a thousand times before, 
 been born to it, and lived with it all his life ; and to 
 realise, to even the extent of his power of apprecia- 
 tion, the charm of his surroundings, he would have 
 to be deprived of them, and taken, for a while, to 
 some less outwardly-attractive corner of that world 
 of which he knows nothing beyond what he now 
 sees. He is not thinking of the scenery, but of
 
 i4 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 some plan, for the development of which he seems to 
 depend on the moon, as his attention has, for a long 
 time, been divided between watching the progress 
 of her setting, and gazing with long, thoughtful 
 glances, in the direction of a point on the Province 
 shore. 
 
 The moon has set now, and though a few stars 
 give light enough to show the outlines of the island 
 opposite and the thick shadows of palms on the 
 neighbouring coast, the occupant of the boat is 
 evidently not yet satisfied, for while he wastes the 
 time which remains before midnight in paddling 
 very slowly and noiselessly towards the north 
 getting now quite close to the beach, from which, in 
 the gathering darkness, this frail diminutive speck 
 on the water can no longer be distinguished he 
 stops when he reaches a solitary stake standing in 
 the shallow water, and making his boat fast to it, 
 sits down, and listens to the lapping of the tide on 
 the all but invisible sand. 
 
 
 
 It happened that, many hours earlier, Samat, 
 whose fishing-stake lay north-west of his village, 
 had gone to share the night's labours with his 
 friends, but, with the coming of sundown, he had 
 been seized with so sudden an attack of fever, that
 
 A NOCTURNE 125 
 
 one of the other men had taken him home, and 
 returned with the boat to the fishing-stake. Samat 
 had duly suffered from the attentions of the local 
 wiseacres, who had in turn prescribed for him. 
 Left alone, at last, with his own household, the door 
 had been barred, the primitive lamp extinguished, 
 and the master had fallen into a fitful slumber, 
 from which he awoke, from time to time, to slake a 
 devouring thirst. 
 
 As the fever-stricken man lay tossing restlessly 
 on his mat, not asleep yet not awake, he fancied he 
 heard a sound as of some one moving underneath 
 the floor of his room. The house consisted of this 
 one room, raised about five feet above the ground 
 on piles, with a narrow veranda running the length 
 of the room in front, a door leading from room to 
 veranda, and a ladder of round steps from the 
 veranda opposite the door to the sandy ground. 
 In the perfect stillness which enwrapped the village, 
 a stillness broken only by the gentle but monotonous 
 caress of the sea kissing the smooth beach, every 
 sound was audible to a listener whose sensibilities 
 were once fully aroused. Samat's faculties were 
 soon alive, in spite of his sickness, and he was now 
 convinced that some being, or some beast, was 
 moving cautiously under the house. At 2 or 3 A.M.
 
 126 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 that sort of sound means usually no good, and 
 Samat forgot his fever in the sudden excitement of 
 possible danger. Rising quickly and silently, he 
 possessed himself of a Kedah lading that was 
 never far from his hand. It was a curious weapon, 
 or tool, one or other as you liked to regard it, but 
 generally supposed to be intended for cutting jungle 
 or padi weeds, or doing any clearing work. The 
 handle was of horn, and from it sprang a long rusty 
 blade, very narrow at the butt, but slightly curved 
 backwards, and widening to what would have been 
 the point, if it had not been a squared end instead. 
 The blade had a horribly sharp edge, and enough 
 weight in the back to make it a dangerous weapon 
 in the hands of a man who hit with determination. 
 
 Carrying the lading in his hand, Samat reached 
 the door, which he suddenly threw open, and strid- 
 ing with a single step across the veranda, stood at 
 the top of the ladder. There he paused, for though 
 he could see npthing in the inky night, he felt that 
 some one was standing on a lower step of the ladder 
 some one who, in the act of ascending, had paused 
 in the face of the man he heard and felt was close 
 above him. If either had the advantage as to sight, it 
 was not the man who had but a moment before been 
 tossing, half asleep, on his mat in the throes of fever.
 
 A NOCTURNE 127 
 
 Smat said, once only, " Who is that ? " but 
 there was no answer, and without more ado or over- 
 long waiting, he struck down straight --and clean 
 with the lading at where he knew the danger must 
 be. He knew he had hit something, for a voice he 
 seemed to recognise said, " God ! God ! " and there 
 was a sound as though a man had fallen to the 
 ground. And yet, he thought, he could not have 
 done much harm, for the resistance was so slight, 
 when the weapon sped through the air, that he 
 could not have hit the man on head or body at all. 
 
 This thought flashed through his brain as, with a 
 cry of " Thieves ! thieves ! help ! my friends," he 
 leapt to the ground, prepared to strike another blow 
 at the would-be burglar. 
 
 A quiet voice, which he now recognised, said, 
 " Don't any more, Samat, you have cut off my hand." 
 At the same time Esah was heard, at the door above 
 them, calling, " What is the matter, Samat ? Who 
 is there ? " and one by one the doors of the nearest 
 houses opened, and the owners appeared with lights 
 and weapons, each in turn crying, " What is that ? 
 Where is the thief? We come, we come ! " In that 
 moment Samat was terribly perplexed. What had he 
 done ? and what was Dris (for he was the thief) doing 
 on the steps of his house at that time of night ?
 
 128 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 Perhaps Dris, in spite of his lost hand, had had 
 time to think of this, for when Samat said, " What 
 are you doing here, Dris ? " the latter replied, " I 
 was out fishing with a line, but, as I had no luck, 
 I landed near here and was trying to make my way 
 through the kampong to the road. In the darkness 
 I blundered against your house, and you have cut 
 off my hand, for which God in His mercy requite 
 you ; " and he broke off into a torrent of wails for his 
 own misfortune, and complaints against Samat for 
 the injury done. 
 
 By this time the two men at the foot of the la Ider 
 were surrounded by neighbours bearing lights, old 
 men and young, and on the outskirts and in the 
 doorways a few women, as the throng gradually 
 increased. As soon as Samat could see Dris, he 
 caught hold of the bleeding stump of the latter's right 
 arm, from which the hand had been cleanly severed, 
 and was trying his utmost to quench the terrible 
 flow of blood that was rapidly making the victim so 
 weak that he needed support. 
 
 Then some one said, " Where is his hand ? Where 
 did it fall ? " And all those not otherwise engaged 
 began a search for the severed member. The in- 
 different light of a torch, a blazing fagot, and two 
 or three burning wicks swimming in coco-nut oil,
 
 A NOCTURNE 129 
 
 soon led to the discovery of the bloody hand lying by 
 the steps. Some dark spots on the sand, and brighter 
 stains on the ladder, fairly indicated Dris's position 
 when he received the blow. 
 
 The hand was picked up, and showed that it had 
 been severed at the wrist, now covered with blood 
 and sand. A voice said, " Wipe it well ; " and the 
 thing was duly wiped with a strip of rag torn off an 
 old sdrong. The next and most natural operation, 
 in the minds of the bystanders, was to carry the 
 hand back to its owner and replace it, as nearly as 
 possible, in the position it originally occupied. The 
 skin looked rather pallid and the fingers somewhat 
 limp, but to refix the hand on the bleeding stump 
 seemed the simplest bit of surgery imaginable. At 
 any rate, when tied securely on, it would help to 
 stanch the bleeding, which was now but partially 
 held in check by a tight ligature of rag above the 
 wound, and the pressure of several fingers and 
 thumbs on the injured man's arm, in places where 
 the most officious thought there were likely to be 
 arteries. 
 
 Dris presented a very sorry spectacle as he sub- 
 mitted to the well-meant attentions of the crowd. 
 From the stump of his right arm had spouted a jet 
 
 of blood that made a broad red stain down his 
 
 I
 
 rjo THE REAL MALAY 
 
 sArong ; the sleeve of his jacket was also deeply 
 dyed with the same colour, and his other hand and 
 sleeve showed unmistakable signs of his attempts 
 to stanch the crimson stream, which still fell, inter- 
 mittently, in thick, sticky splashes from the wound. 
 
 Samat, who was beginning to feel very uncom- 
 fortable as regards his share in the incident, looked 
 at Dris and said, " Why did you not speak ? " But 
 Dris appeared not to hear, and only opened and 
 closed his eyelids as though he were losing con- 
 sciousness. Some rough splints were produced 
 from somewhere, and a quantity of rags torn into 
 bandages, also some Chinese tobacco (the nearest 
 approach to a strong cobweb, and a famous thing 
 for stanching blood), and chewed leaves. Without 
 slackening the pressure on the arm, the hand was 
 now carefully fitted on to the stump, the ends of 
 skin drawn together, the splints adjusted, the tobacco 
 and leaves plastered thickly round the wound, and 
 the whole swathed tightly in the far from clean 
 bandages. 
 
 H 
 
 While this was going on, one of the surgeons 
 said, " Did you not see he was going to strike you ? 
 However dark it was you would realise that, for he 
 was between you and the sky ; why did you not 
 speak then ? " Dris evidently heard this, for he
 
 A NOCTURNE 131 
 
 said in a weak voice, " There was no time ; I could 
 not see what he had in his hand, but I raised my arm 
 to guard my head, and this is what he did to me." 
 
 Doubtless the bystanders had ideas on the sub- 
 ject, but they did not express them. There was 
 evidently nothing to be gained by questioning Dris, 
 and after all it was not their business ; but some of 
 them glanced at Esah, who still stood in the door of 
 her cottage, where she had been joined by several of 
 her women neighbours, and it was they who had 
 supplied what was asked for in t>>e way of surgical 
 appliances. 
 
 The village head-man was now on the scene, and 
 he decided that Dris must be taken to the nearest 
 hospital, and Samat to the police station, where a 
 report of the circumstances would be made. The 
 nearest hospital was ten miles distant, and there 
 also was the principal police station ; so a pair of 
 bullocks were put into a covered cart, a mattress, 
 mats and pillows were arranged within it, and Dris 
 was supported to the vehicle and lifted in; great 
 care being taken to carry his wounded arm inde- 
 pendently, and make a steady and easy rest for it, 
 when once he was in the cart. Two women sat 
 beside the injured man, to make his journey as 
 comfortable as possible, to moisten his lips and fan
 
 132 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 away the mosquitoes; while the head-man, Samat, 
 and some others, whose testimony as witnesses 
 might be useful, followed on foot. 
 
 As the little cortege disappeared in the darkness, 
 which as yet showed but small signs of approach- 
 ing dawn, it was an old man who said, " Strange 
 indeed are the ways of that Dris, but people say 
 that he never wears trousers." 
 
 Ten minutes later, all was still in the village, and, 
 beyond the blood-stains on Samat's stairs, there was 
 nothing to show that anything particular had hap- 
 pened. Inside the house, Esah sat thinking, and 
 wondering, and planning, till the grey light, the cold 
 breeze from the sea, the crowing of the cocks and 
 the noise of opening doors, roused her from her 
 reverie. As she went down to bathe at the well, 
 the one fixed idea in her mind was, that if Samat 
 did not return by the third hour of prayer she must 
 go and see what had happened to him, and then, 
 she might also hear something about Dris, and how 
 he was faring in the white man's sick-house. 
 
 It was nearly 6 A.M. when the cart arrived at the 
 hospital, and the resident apothecary having glanced 
 at his new patient, and been informed of the nature 
 of the injury, had Dris carried into the building and
 
 A NOCTURNE 133 
 
 deposited on one of the trestle-beds in the clean, 
 cool ward. The head-man's principal anxiety being 
 relieved, by safely transferring the wounded man to 
 the care of the " Tuan Doctor," as he politely styled 
 the apothecary, he ordered the cartman to take out 
 his bullocks and let them graze on the roadside, 
 while he went, with Samat and the other men, to 
 make a report at the police station. 
 
 The case, as reported, seemed a serious one, and 
 it was hard to say, as yet, what it might develop 
 into. The Assistant-Superintendent, the head of 
 the Province police, was immediately informed, and 
 having questioned the head-man, told S^mat he must 
 be detained for a while, until a reliable authority 
 could be consulted as to the real extent of the 
 wounded man's injuries. The Assistant-Superin- 
 tendent then visited the hospital, looked at the sick 
 man, who seemed to be exhausted by loss of blood 
 and the trying journey in the cart but, as to his 
 hand having been cut off well, the policeman was 
 not a surgeon, but he supposed that was a bit of 
 native exaggeration. The state of the patient's 
 clothes showed, however, that there must be a very 
 serious wound, and the Assistant-Superintendent 
 decided to send at once to Penang for the surgeon, 
 as the case was probably beyond the skill of the
 
 134 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 apothecary; an opinion with which the latter at 
 once concurred, glad enough to be spared the 
 responsibility of having to deal with a case that 
 would probably take him before the Supreme Court, 
 to be catechised as to the treatment employed. 
 
 It was 9 A.M. when the surgeon arrived at the 
 hospital and visited the wounded man, who had 
 been carefully tended in every way, except that no 
 attempt had been made to interfere with the Malay 
 surgery. Dris was now in clean hospital clothes, 
 his arm properly supported, and himself made other- 
 wise as comfortable as possible. He had eaten 
 food, and his temperature was being watched to 
 guard against any access of the fever which had 
 already declared itself. The Malay women who 
 accompanied him to the hospital had visited him, 
 and, their services being no longer required, they 
 had gone to look for a breakfast. 
 
 The surgeon listened while the apothecary re- 
 ported the facts of the case, as they had been told 
 to him, and smiled as he heard the story of the 
 severed hand : lost in the darkness, the search with 
 lights, the finding of the hand covered with blood 
 and sand, its cleansing, and finally the operation of 
 replacing it on the wrist from which it had been cut. 
 
 The surgeon smiled, for, as he sat there, he held in
 
 A NOCTURNE 135 
 
 his own this so-called "severed hand," and though 
 it was not particularly clean, and the bandages were 
 very dirty, and partly saturated with blood, streaks 
 of which lay dry and cracking on both hand and 
 arm, yet, if he knew anything at all, he could both 
 see and feel that the hand was alive. Of course, if 
 the hand had really been cut clean off, it could not 
 have been stuck on again, least of all by a parcel of 
 stupid native villagers. Therefore it was clear that 
 the story had been exaggerated, and though, no 
 doubt, the wrist had been very nearly severed, quite 
 near enough for a Malay to say, " cut in two," of 
 course a complete severance of hand and arm had 
 never taken place ; otherwise, how was it that the 
 hand looked all right now ? How was it that \\.felt 
 warm, felt as though the blood was coursing through 
 it ? The fingers did not move of course that was 
 hardly to be expected; the sinews were probably 
 all cut, and the man had received a desperate gash 
 that might destroy the full use of his hand for all 
 time. But the idea of the member having been cut 
 off, dropped in the sand, hunted for with lights ! ! 
 
 The surgeon laughed quietly, and looked at Dris 
 as he lay there. The man was evidently much 
 exhausted he must have lost a lot of blood and 
 that journey in the cart, that was bad, and no doubt
 
 136 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 accounted for the high fever which was now declar- 
 ing itself, but still : 
 
 " Did you say your hand was cut off ? " 
 
 "Yes, Tuan." 
 
 " Truly ? " 
 
 "Truly, Tuan." 
 
 " But it is not possible ; your hand is right now ? " 
 
 "Yes, Tuan." 
 
 " How long was it off? " 
 
 " I don't know, Tuan." 
 
 " No, I don't think you do," remarked the surgeon 
 in English, as the patient closed his eyes, the effort 
 of talking seeming too much for him. 
 
 "Well," said the surgeon, turning to the apothe- 
 cary, " we must get off those horrible dirty bandages. 
 I'm rather surprised you did not remove them when 
 the patient came in." 
 
 " The Assistant-Superintendent of Police thought 
 I had better do nothing till you came, sir," said the 
 apothecary, "as the case seemed serious, and from 
 the information he has, he can't understand what it 
 means, and what this man was doing when the other 
 struck him." 
 
 "Oh, very well," said the surgeon; "get a basin 
 of water, bandages, lotion, and everything, and I'll 
 dress the wound."
 
 A NOCTURNE 137 
 
 All the requisites were at once brought, and the 
 surgeon began, slowly and carefully, to unfold the 
 filthy blood-stained rags that had served as bandages. 
 As he came to the chewed leaves and Chinese 
 tobacco, now coagulated into a black-brown mass, 
 the touch of which dyed his fingers scarlet, he 
 muttered, " What horrible mess is this, enough in 
 itself to produce mortification ? " Then the splints ; 
 the poor, rough, ill-cut splints, once a dirty yellowish 
 white, but now a sort of red mahogany ; these he 
 carefully removed, one by one, after detaching the 
 narrow strip of rag which bound them. 
 
 The wounded man's arm and hand were being 
 supported while this operation went on, but as the 
 underlying splints were removed, the hand came 
 quietly but completely away from the arm, to the 
 great horror and astonishment of the surgeon. 
 
 A rush of blood, but not a very strong one, came 
 from the stump of the arm, and some fell also from 
 the hand. 
 
 One cannot wait to think or theorise in a crisis 
 like this, but, deeply impressed by what he had 
 seen, the operator again adjusted the hand to the 
 arm and bandaged the two together with all the 
 skill he possessed; determined to watch by his 
 patient until he obtained some certain result.
 
 138 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 That certainty was gained without much waiting, 
 and it was only too evident, from the entirely 
 different appearance now taken by the member, that 
 Dris's hand had been not only completely severed 
 from the arm, but that it was now dead beyond all 
 hope of recovery. The second grafting was a 
 failure. 
 
 The hand was, of course, removed, and the stump 
 treated in accordance with the rules of scientific 
 surgery ; but the arm mortified, and the patient died 
 under the shock of amputation at the shoulder. 
 This unfortunate result may fairly be ascribed to 
 the ten miles' cart journey ; but that is not the view 
 they used to hold in S^mat's village, when he re- 
 turned there, after a nominal term of imprisonment 
 for causing the death of the Malay sans-culotte.
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 
 
 HE was not a very nice man, as Malay chiefs 
 go; he was certainly not popular in Malay 
 society, and if I were to faithfully describe his 
 character, as it appeared to me and others who 
 knew him, it would look very ill indeed. Then he 
 did not affect to be other than he was; and he 
 bluntly expressed his opinions of men, women, and 
 motives, in language that was no doubt sincere, but 
 distinctly unwise. He had a reputation, but not a 
 good one; and I don't think he was in any way 
 troubled by the fact. A Muhammadan by profession 
 and association, he observed no rule that ran counter 
 to his inclinations, and probably did not understand 
 the meaning of our word conscience. Still, he had 
 scruples, but with very pronounced limitations ; they 
 would have prevented him from robbing his neigh- 
 bour of money, but not from seducing his wife; 
 
 they would have made him scorn to hit a man in 
 139
 
 i 4 o THE REAL MALAY 
 
 the dark, but encouraged him to assault and battery 
 in the daylight. 
 
 I dare say you will think the chief was a very bad 
 man, and if I were to tell you all I knew about him, 
 you would be sure of it. But he had some good 
 points, and it is difficult to judge any Eastern, espe- 
 cially one so far removed from outside teachings 
 and influences as a Malay, by Western standards. 
 
 This man was a gambler, and not over-generous ; 
 he was exceedingly jealous of his women-folk, and 
 selfishly declined to give them the liberty enjoyed 
 by the rest of their class. He was not even so 
 hospitable as others with smaller means; for be- 
 sides being a man of rank and position, he was 
 decidedly well off. 
 
 On the other hand, he was courageous, intelli- 
 gent, a sportsman, energetic, trustworthy in all the 
 affairs of men, a good friend, of even temper and 
 quick wit, with the sense of humour common to 
 almost all Malays of his class. The spirit of the 
 clan was strong in him, but he was very indepen- 
 dent in thought and speech, with a determination 
 that somewhat inclined to stubbornness. 
 
 At the time I speak of the chief was about thirty- 
 five years of age, short and thickset, plain in feature 
 but powerful in build, and the world had treated
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 141 
 
 him well. If he had not grown in favour with God 
 and man, he had prospered considerably; so that 
 he owned many acres and houses and wives (more, 
 so gossip said, than his Prophet allowed), elephants 
 and horses and carriages, men and maid servants, 
 and everything that the heart of Malay could desire. 
 He had had a few troubles, but only one of serious 
 consequence, and that was when he had beaten a 
 more favoured rival for the favours of a lady who 
 declined the chief's attentions. 
 
 For this assault the ruler of the country (who 
 was not altogether sorry to get this opportunity of 
 bringing the chief to book) summoned his vassal 
 into the presence, to hear his sentence. The delin- 
 quent duly attended, and with an attitude and bear- 
 ing required by the circumstances, listened to the 
 statement of his misdeeds, in the presence of a very 
 large company of fellow-chiefs and less important 
 people. When the Raja ended his harangue, by 
 informing his erring subject that he would have to 
 pay a fine of two thousand dollars (the extreme 
 penalty sanctioned by ancient usage), the chief 
 bowed his acknowledgments in silence, and as he 
 withdrew from the embarrassing position of solitary 
 penance in the middle of the hall of audience, to 
 a place at the side amongst his peers, it is said
 
 i 4 a THE REAL MALAY 
 
 that he whispered, " I was afraid His Highness 
 would fine me fifty cents." 
 
 That indiscretion was already a matter of history, 
 when chiefs and people assembled, from far and 
 near, to join the ruler in a series of festivities in 
 honour of His Highness's birthday. Everything 
 had gone well; the function had delighted prince 
 and peasant, and the last day of the revels had 
 repeated and accentuated the success of its prede- 
 cessors. At the evening feasts, hosts and guests 
 were congratulating themselves on the brilliance 
 and harmony of the proceedings, when a rumour 
 spread, from bazaar to palace, that the trusted 
 accountant of the chief had been assaulted on a 
 lonely road, and was lying, grievously wounded, in 
 a house on the outskirts of the village. 
 
 On occasions of large public gatherings such as 
 this, Malays live in the hours of night. The 
 evening meal is eaten after dark, the weather is 
 usually fine, the plays and other attractions are 
 given in the open air, and the junketings continue 
 till nearly dawn. Amongst the higher classes, 
 every one knows every one else, and relationships 
 are recognised, even to what seems remote kinship. 
 The clan feeling is universal, and an insult or 
 injury to a relative, friend, or follower of a powerful
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 143 
 
 chief is strongly resented, and may, in a moment, 
 lead to very serious consequences. Every Malay 
 chief of importance has a considerable following, 
 both in his house and outside it. There is his 
 family often several families his servants and 
 hangers-on, his relatives, some of whom are sure 
 to live with him, and in return for food and cloth- 
 ing and other benefits, perform services of various 
 kinds, ranging from the care of his estates, invest- 
 ments, money, or valuables, to the veiled surveil- 
 lance of his wives and the running of messages. 
 When a chief travels, especially when he attends a 
 great function, it is his pride to take with him a 
 large following, as the visible proof of his wealth, 
 power, and importance. 
 
 The chief of whom I write had two principal 
 assistants ; one was his nephew, named Wan Hamid, 
 a youth who held a State office of responsibility on 
 his own account, and managed his uncle's property 
 as well. The other was an older, man, a very dis- 
 tant connection, who kept his master's keys and 
 books, carried on his correspondence, and performed 
 those confidential services which render such a man 
 invaluable to his employer. This last was Sleman, 
 and he it was who had been suddenly attacked and 
 beaten on the high-road, while the ruler of the
 
 i 4 4 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 country, his chiefs and other guests, were feasting 
 and taking their pleasure, after the manner of their 
 forefathers, amid the perfume-laden gardens of the 
 picturesque riverine, a mile away. 
 
 A misfortune of this kind arouses instant sym- 
 pathy, and when it occurs on such an occasion, 
 the ruler's household, his officers and attendants, 
 as well as every guest, regard it as a personal 
 affront to their lord. On this occasion the feeling 
 was unusually strong, and the Raja himself went 
 at daylight to make inquiries. But I am antici- 
 pating, and will record the facts as they occurred. 
 
 The chief had been bidden, with others, to a 
 feast in the palace, and as he was then living in a 
 large but rather lonely house, on the opposite side 
 of the village, he sent his caretaker to find a woman 
 to companion his wife during his absence. The 
 chief's house was on a rising ground, with terraces 
 leading down to a piece of artificial water, and the 
 caretaker lived in a small hut across the pond. An 
 ancient female, called Maimunah, was bidden to 
 keep the wife company ; but the latter said that a 
 woman was company but not protection, and a man 
 must stay with them. The chief told Sleman to 
 stay behind, and whilst he and the old woman 
 were waiting in the caretaker's house, a message
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 145 
 
 was brought to the effect that the chief had such a 
 bad headache he could not attend the feast. There 
 was, therefore, no further need for the old woman, 
 and she said she would return home. The care- 
 taker was preparing to accompany her, when Sleman 
 said he need not disturb himself, as he would see 
 Maimunah home, and the pair accordingly started 
 to walk a few hundred yards, carrying a lamp, as it 
 was very dark. The caretaker's house was on the 
 side of the high-road, and Maimunah and Sleman 
 started on their journey as soon as the latter had 
 completed his toilette. To the others in the house 
 his preparations seemed needlessly elaborate, if the 
 only object was to escort an old woman through the 
 darkness for something less than a quarter of a 
 mile. The couple left the house, Maimunah carry- 
 ing the lamp and Sleman walking behind. They 
 had gone about a hundred yards, when the old 
 woman heard what she described as the sound of 
 " a breaking stick," and turning round saw Sleman, 
 on all fours in the road, with the blood streaming 
 from a deep cut over his ear. He was conscious, 
 and as she helped him up, said, "Some one has 
 struck me ; it is my fate, I could not see who did it." 
 The woman screamed for help, and that brought out 
 the caretaker and another man, with whose assist-
 
 146 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 ance Sleman managed to walk back to the house. 
 There he lay down, telling the occupants to bar the 
 door, and say nothing. He had been waylaid; it 
 was fate ; but probably he had his own ideas as to 
 whom he owed his misfortune. He was plucky, 
 however, and thought the best thing for every one 
 was to say as little as possible about it. 
 
 The gash in Sleman's head bled horribly, in spite 
 of the well-meaning but clumsy surgery of Mai- 
 munah and the caretaker's wife, and in an hour or 
 two he began to vomit blood. Then he realised 
 the serious nature of the wound, and asked those 
 about him to send for the chief. His master soon 
 appeared, and was deeply distressed. He asked 
 Sleman who had done it, and the sufferer answered, 
 " It is my bad luck, but my chief can guess." He 
 seemed disinclined to say more, and if he had his 
 suspicions, or if he knew who his assailants were, 
 he also knew that to disclose their names could 
 only distress his master, and therefore he refused 
 to speak. 
 
 In a few minutes the wounded man began to 
 wander, and was no longer conscious of his sur- 
 roundings. Though medical aid was quickly pro- 
 cured, nothing could be done, and Sleman died 
 before the sun had fairly cleared the crests of the
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 147 
 
 forest-clad hills which bound the eastern side of the 
 river-vale. 
 
 Sleman's death was a cruel blow to his master, 
 whose determination to discover the murderers and 
 revenge his trusted servant was too deep for full 
 expression. His attitude and influence, joined to 
 that of the ruler, who was equally bent on tracking 
 the perpetrators of this ill-timed crime, were suffi- 
 cient to raise the country-side and set every head- 
 man on the trail. 
 
 Malay murders, when not the result of dmok or 
 robbery, are attributable, in ninety-nine cases out of 
 a hundred, to some trouble in connection with a 
 woman, and on the day of Sleman's death there 
 was only one opinion as to the cause. Dove la 
 donna would naturally be the first thought in every 
 mind, but here there was no need to seek the woman, 
 for every one who knew anything was aware that 
 the dead man had carried on a liaison with a married 
 woman, and it was her mother who carried the 
 lantern, by the light of which the murderer had seen 
 his victim so clearly that one blow had settled the 
 business. Suspicion, therefore, fell upon the out- 
 raged husband, and he was incontinently arrested. 
 
 Charged with the crime, this man was able to prove 
 his innocence, and as the lady was reputed to have
 
 148 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 another lover, or at least another friend anxious to 
 occupy that position, the voice of gossip named him 
 as a likely cause of Sleman's undoing. The second 
 accused, however, cleared himself as easily as the 
 first, and then the knowing ones were at fault. 
 
 Meantime the influence and directions of ruler 
 and chiefs began to bear fruit, and, little by little, 
 the truth leaked out. 
 
 The caretaker of the chief's house managed to 
 remember that on the evening of the murder, when 
 he had fetched Maimunah to keep the chief's wife 
 company, and when they were just going to enter 
 his house, a man had called to him from the road, 
 and returning to see who it was, he found Wan 
 Hamid. Wan Hamid had asked him if Sleman was 
 then in his house, whether the chief was going to 
 the feast, whether Sleman would accompany him, 
 and had further inquired whether Sleman was wear- 
 ing any kind of weapon. Assured on all these points, 
 Wan Hamid had gone away, but not before the care- 
 taker had recognised two men who were with him. 
 Supposing that Wan Hamid was concerned in the 
 affair, the question to determine was whether he had 
 any grudge against Sleman, his fellow-worker and 
 assistant in the management of the chief's property 
 and money matters. The answer was that Wan
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 149 
 
 Hamid had undoubted cause to dislike Sleman, and 
 the reason was this. About a couple of months 
 earlier, Wan Hamid had discovered that certain 
 rents, supposed to have been collected by Sleman 
 from a Chinese tenant of the chief, did not appear 
 in Sleman's accounts, and the Chinese, being called 
 upon for the money due, declared that he had already 
 paid it, and took proceedings against Sleman. 
 
 When the chief heard of this he was very angry, 
 and told Wan Hamid to mind his own business, 
 and not to trouble about the loss of his (the chiefs) 
 money. The proceedings were therefore stayed, 
 and Sleman, enraged but triumphant, went to Wan 
 Hamid's house and accused him of instigating the 
 Chinese to take action. After an altercation with 
 the young fellow, Sleman left him, and in the pre- 
 sence of a number of people used very insulting 
 language in regard to his master's nephew. On the 
 following day Sleman's wife called on Wan Hamid 
 and begged him to forgive her husband for what he 
 had said ; but Hamid declined, with the remark, 
 " What Sleman has said and done to me would, in 
 the old days, have divided a man from his wife, a 
 son from his father." 
 
 Once the ball was set rolling, it was surprising 
 what a quantity of circumstantial evidence was forth-
 
 150 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 coming, and in a very short time Wan Hamid 
 and two other men his uncle and a servant 
 were arrested, and charged with the murder of 
 Sleman. 
 
 To a European, the ways of Malays are exceed- 
 ingly peculiar that is, until you have shared their 
 inner life, and so learnt their code of honour, their 
 religious teaching, and the doctrines and customs of 
 the men of old time. Though great changes have 
 been effected in the last twenty years, ancient tradi- 
 tion is still one of the strongest rules of the true 
 Malay life of the Peninsula. Amongst the princi- 
 ples inculcated for generations, there are two which 
 still have wonderful force. They are these : the 
 obedience which is due to the governing classes, and 
 the sacredness of confidence. The power of the 
 latter injunction is specially noticeable, when a non- 
 Muhammadan seeks information likely to damage a 
 follower of the Prophet. Owing, in a great measure, 
 to the kind of dwellings in which Malays live, and 
 the circumstances of Malay society, there is practi- 
 cally no real privacy, and there are very few real 
 secrets ; but while every one acts and speaks in the 
 presence of witnesses, the traditions of centuries 
 forbid the disclosure of a deed or a word that would 
 compromise a relative or a feudal chief. When this
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 151 
 
 is once clearly understood, it explains a good deal in 
 Malay life that otherwise seems incomprehensible. 
 
 I do not wish to burden this tale with minute 
 details, nor yet to explain how all the information 
 was obtained. My purpose will be best served by 
 sparing the reader the methods and experiences of 
 the detectives, and by piecing together the chain of 
 evidence that, by one means and another, led to 
 the arrest of the accused, and was told from the 
 witness-box at their subsequent trial, before an 
 English judge and a mixed jury. 
 
 Wan Hamid, the nephew of the chief, had fol- 
 lowed his master from their usual abode, in another 
 district, to the scene of these festivities, and when 
 on his journey he reached the bank of the river, 
 five miles above the ruler's palace, he hired a boat, 
 and dropped down the stream to the immediate 
 vicinity of the Astana, as the Sultan's residence is 
 called. On the way down river, Wan Hamid bid 
 the owner of the boat stop at a spot where many 
 smooth, water-worn stones were lying on the edge 
 of the stream. There he selected six of these unin- 
 teresting specimens, and when the boatman asked 
 what they were for, Wan Hamid said, "To play 
 with." 
 
 The next day the boatman was ordered to take
 
 15* THE REAL MALAY 
 
 the boat back, a mile up-stream, and fasten it at the 
 head of a small island, almost exactly opposite the 
 house of the lady who was known to be greatly 
 admired by Sleman. That house was about 250 
 yards from the cottage of the chief's caretaker. 
 
 At sundown, on the evening before Sleman was 
 attacked, a man called Dris, the uncle of Wan 
 Hamid, was walking towards the village where all 
 this happened, when he overtook an acquaintance, 
 and said, " Do you know Sleman ? " But the man 
 said, "No." 
 
 "Wan Hamid wishes to have him beaten; will 
 you help me to do it ? " 
 
 The man said, " I can't ; I have a bad foot." 
 
 "Ah well, never mind," said Dris, "we will go 
 and see the theatre." They visited the theatre, but 
 they also looked about for both Wan Hamid and 
 Sleman, and saw neither of them. About midnight 
 they returned, and on parting, Dris said, "Come 
 again to-morrow night, and we will look for Sleman 
 and beat him." But the man replied, " I will not 
 join you," and the next day went out of harm's 
 way. 
 
 On the following afternoon Dris, disappointed in 
 his first essay, was standing in the road in front of 
 his house, two or three miles above the village,
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 153 
 
 when two men passed. Dris knew them well, and 
 stopped them, saying, "Wan Hamid has a grudge 
 against a man called Sleman, and wants to have 
 him beaten. If you two will help me, Wan Hamid 
 will pay you thirty dollars." But the men declined, 
 and Dris remarked, " Very well, I will do it 
 myself." 
 
 About 7 P.M. that evening, Dris and his brother 
 Daud called at a house where great preparations were 
 being made for a wedding-feast, and while enjoying 
 the dinner which Malay hospitality immediately of- 
 fered them, it was noticed that Dris never let out of 
 his left hand a heavy-knotted stick he carried. The 
 meal over, the brothers walked down the road, and 
 turned in towards the bank of the stream where 
 Wan Hamid's boat was moored. He was on board, 
 and Dris held a whispered conversation with him. 
 Then Wan Hamid said to Daud, " Sleman has 
 made me angry, and put me to shame. He cheated 
 me of some money, and when I took him into Court 
 the chief stopped the case, so now I am going to 
 beat Sleman." Turning to Dris, Hamid said, " Shall 
 I take the stones ? " 
 
 Dris replied, " What is the use ? this is enough," 
 and he showed the stick he held. Wan Hamid, 
 however, selected two stones, putting the other four
 
 i 54 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 back under the deck-boards, and the three men left 
 the boat and went up the bank, where they were 
 joined by Wan Hamid's servant. When they 
 reached the high-road, Daud said he was going on 
 to the village, so the servant borrowed his stick, and 
 Daud went away to smoke a pipe of opium. 
 
 It was now quite dark, and the three men were 
 in the road by the caretaker's house at the moment 
 when he returned with the old woman, Maimunah. 
 Wan Hamid called the caretaker, and having ascer- 
 tained all he wished to know about Sleman, he said, 
 " If any one asks you what I wanted, say I only in- 
 quired whether the chief was going to the Sultan's 
 feast to-night." 
 
 Half-an-hour later the old woman carrying the 
 lantern was startled by what she described as " the 
 noise of a breaking stick." It was really the smash- 
 ing of a skull. 
 
 The deed done, Wan Hamid immediately went to 
 the palace, and there he was seen by the messenger 
 who carried the news of the attack and the request 
 for medical aid. Before that, however, Dris had 
 wandered towards the village, met his brother, told 
 him the beating had been duly administered, and 
 the two worthies wended their way homeward. 
 
 Thieving and murdering, like church-going, seems
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 155 
 
 to be hungry work, and when about midnight the 
 brothers reached the house where they had dined, 
 they looked in for supper, and were duly served, for 
 the women were still cooking. Whilst eating their 
 meal (and Dris is said to have been somewhat 
 excited over it), a man lying in an adjoining room, 
 awakened by the noise of these late arrivals, called 
 from his bed, " Well, have you done it ? " and Dris 
 replied, " Yes, we gave him one, and it sounded like 
 the cracking of a coco-nut." 
 
 The voice called again, " Did you do it ? " and 
 Dris answered, "Yes, I did it; Daud only looked 
 on." 
 
 One of the women then inquired, " Whom have 
 you beaten ? " But Dris said, " Never mind, one 
 of the villagers." She asked again, " Where did 
 you beat him ? " He answered, " Near the chief's 
 house." Shortly after, Dris and his brother took 
 their departure, making a deal of noise over it. 
 
 In the morning every one knew that Sleman was 
 dead. Those who also knew the culprits said to 
 each other, " Mind you say nothing, or you will get 
 into trouble ; Wan Hamid is a powerful man, and 
 the chief's nephew." 
 
 Moreover, with the advent of daylight, the care- 
 taker found two smooth, water-worn stones lying at
 
 156 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 the very spot where Sleman had been struck, and 
 five days later, Dris returned with sixty dollars, 
 the price of blood, and asked his late entertainers 
 to keep it for his wife ! 
 
 By-and-by the country-side learned that the chief 
 and his royal master had set every one to work to 
 discover the murderers, and in time it was under- 
 stood that the dead man was a greater favourite 
 with the chief than his own nephew who had killed 
 him. 
 
 When the wrong people had been arrested and 
 released, and the real perpetrators of the outrage 
 had been secured, there was great astonishment, 
 and much wailing and sympathy on the part of 
 Wan Hamid's family. But the die was cast ; the 
 chief had raised a cry for vengeance, and he seemed 
 likely to get it, in over-full measure. 
 
 I ought to have been present at the festivities in 
 honour of the 'Sultan's birthday, but circumstances 
 prevented my attendance, and I only reached the 
 State after the events above narrated. I had, how- 
 ever, heard the tale in outline, when I was told 
 that the mother of Wan Hamid, and the three lead- 
 ing ladies of Malay society in the district where the 
 chief lived, were anxious to see me. I met them 
 one afternoon, and in reply to their inquiries, told
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 157 
 
 them that, pending the hearing of the case, nothing 
 could be done. Like all Malay women under simi- 
 lar circumstances, they had no thought for any one 
 except their relative, Wan Hamid, and their one 
 idea was how to compass his release. 
 
 After some conversation, and listening to their 
 exceeding bitter cry on his behalf, it occurred to 
 me that I had heard of certain affectionate relations 
 between one of them and the dead man. So, ad- 
 dressing her, I said, " Your anxiety is very natural, 
 but what about the feelings of Sleman's people ? 
 Are they to be ignored ? " The lady at once re- 
 plied, "They have said nothing; why need you 
 trouble about them ? " It seemed to me that here, 
 as elsewhere, the living quickly learn to bury their 
 dead and to forget them. There could be no object 
 in pursuing that subject, so I said, " The case has 
 yet to be tried ; it will be time enough to discuss 
 eventualities when the guilt of the accused has 
 been established." They acquiesced, but said they 
 wanted to see Wan Hamid, who was in the prison 
 awaiting trial. I told them they could not all see 
 him (there were at least a dozen of them, including 
 their attendants); and the lady who, I thought, 
 might possibly feel some regret for the murdered 
 man, at once said, " It is no use my going ; the
 
 1 58 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 mere sight of Hamid would bring the tears into my 
 eyes, and I should only make a fool of myself." 
 That was evident, for the mere thought of his evil 
 plight brought tears to her eyes, while the other 
 women wept in sympathy. I suggested that if 
 their anxiety was for the prisoner's feelings, the 
 visit they contemplated was not likely to help him, 
 and they eventually agreed that if his mother and 
 his wife might see him, the others had better stay 
 away. 
 
 A few days later the preliminary inquiry was 
 held, and I made it my business to find the chief 
 and express my sympathy. He was extremely 
 grateful, and I was struck by his fine old-fashioned 
 Malay manner of treating his misfortune. After 
 thanking me, he said, " It is my fate that this 
 should have happened, but what distresses me most 
 is that my nephew, after all the Sultan and the 
 Government have done for him, should think only 
 of himself and the gratification of his own wishes. 
 You gave him a position, and he forgets what is 
 due to it. The Sultan invited us all to rejoice with 
 him on his birthday, and that was the moment 
 which Hamid chose to disgrace himself and me. It 
 is the shame of it all which overwhelms me." 
 
 I said, " Yes, but you have lost your favourite
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 159 
 
 servant, and however this case turns out, you must 
 suffer still further. The offence hurts you person- 
 ally more than any one, and the punishment will 
 also fall directly and indirectly on you." 
 
 The chief replied, "That is nothing; I do not 
 count the cost or consider it; I can only think of 
 Hamid's disregard of every principle and every 
 custom which should have saved him and me from 
 this disgrace." 
 
 I could not help contrasting, in my own mind, 
 the attitude of the chief with the tearful pleadings 
 of the ladies, who were the relatives of himself as 
 well as of his nephew. I even gave way to the 
 temptation of telling him of their visit to me and 
 our conversation, and when I repeated the reply 
 to my inquiry about the feelings of the murdered 
 man's friends, the chief remarked, " His people are 
 poor and ignorant, but they have been to me. They 
 cannot afford to run about the country with their 
 troubles; why should they? They expect to get 
 justice." 
 
 Amongst the benefits conferred on the Malay 
 by British protection is the trial by jury; more 
 recently has been added the privilege of represen- 
 tation by counsel. Wan Hamid, his uncle a 
 renowned beater of men and the servant, were
 
 i6o THE REAL MALAY 
 
 arraigned before a judge and jury, on the charge 
 of having deliberately planned and carried out the 
 murder of Sleman, in order to relieve Wan Hamid's 
 mind of the feeling of shame and insult put upon 
 him by the dead man. 
 
 Not a single link was missing in the chain of 
 evidence. All the witnesses for the prosecution 
 were reluctant to incriminate the chief's nephew. 
 Some of them were the near relatives and connec- 
 tions of the second prisoner Dris, therefore their 
 testimony was all the more damning. The issue 
 of the case was a foregone conclusion, and Malay 
 society was only concerned with the probable sen- 
 tence. Of the nature of the verdict no one had any 
 reasonable doubt. 
 
 The combined efforts of five European pleaders 
 and a jury of seven, only one of whom was a white 
 man, secured the unexpected. All the prisoners 
 were acquitted. 
 
 I have heard it said that the majority of the jurors 
 declined the responsibility of a verdict of guilty, lest 
 that should lead to hanging ; for they believed that 
 the ghosts of the hanged would haunt those who 
 condemned them. 
 
 I happened to travel in the same train with the 
 chief as he returned to his home after the trial. I
 
 A STUDY IN SHADOWS 161 
 
 cannot say that he showed any great enthusiasm 
 over the success of his efforts to secure an acquittal. 
 It had been a costly business for him, as he had 
 to pay for the whole array of talent that had so 
 successfully defended the accused. And then, he 
 had been fond of Sleman, and the blow which had 
 killed the servant could not fail to strike the master, 
 who was the indirect cause of Wan Hamid's bitter 
 feelings. The chief said to me, " I will send Hamid 
 to Mecca. When he has been there two or 
 three years, and people have forgotten, he can 
 return." 
 
 The pilgrimage to Mecca is the cure for the 
 errors of the Muhammadan world. The lady whose 
 liaison has become public property; the man who 
 has seduced his sister-in-law, or, like Wan Hamid, 
 been too heavy-handed in beating his enemy ; these 
 perform the pilgrimage, and return with repaired 
 reputations and an odour of sanctity that enables 
 them to resume their places in society without loss 
 of caste. 
 
 As my friend the chief left the train at his own 
 station, and bowed me his adieux, it seemed to me 
 that the fates had been singularly unkind to him. 
 I did not ask him for his views on the jury system, 
 but the result of the trial reminded me of a Malay
 
 162 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 proverb, which seemed to fit the situation very 
 nicely. It says : 
 
 Mdlang Pet si Kado' 
 Ayam-nya mZnang 
 Kampong-nya ttr-gddei. 
 
 " The misfortune of Father si Kado* ; who had to 
 mortgage his house and lands, though his game- 
 cock won the main."
 
 WOODCUTS 
 
 MALAYAN woods are the haunt of many strange 
 beasts, of many wonderful birds, and of 
 reptiles and insects, legion in variety and countless 
 in number. The noblest beast, the creature which 
 shows most "quality," is the bison the magnificent 
 bull, great in stature and in courage, beautiful in 
 head and proportion ; with its large clear eye, 
 grand sharply-curved and pointed horns, its power- 
 ful body and smooth black hide, its fine limbs and 
 small feet. The bison is also the most difficult of 
 beasts to approach ; for it is always on the alert, is 
 quick to see, and has a marvellous sense of smell. 
 In the eyes of sportsmen, it is the most desirable 
 prize offered by Malay forests. The pursuit of this 
 splendid quarry is not without danger. I can re- 
 member two Malay head-men, who at different times 
 lost their lives by attempting to shoot bison with 
 indifferent fire-arms, while Mr. H. C. Syers, Com- 
 missioner of Police, and one of the best and most 
 163
 
 164 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 successful sportsmen in the Peninsula, was killed, 
 only two years ago, by a wounded bison, which had 
 already received a number of shots, and did not live 
 to get away. In the case of one of the Malay head- 
 men, news of the accident was carried to his brother, 
 and he immediately went to the spot, found the 
 bison standing over his victim, and killed the beast 
 by a very lucky shot from a Snider rifle. 
 
 The bison is usually found in fairly open jungle, 
 where it is possible to track. He frequents undu- 
 lating country, in the neighbourhood of a clear moun- 
 tain stream of fair size, and in the early mornings 
 feeds in the grass land on its banks, and especially 
 in the vicinity of a sulphur spring. 
 
 The rhinoceros is at once the most hideous and 
 the rarest of Malayan big game ; but though he is 
 dangerous, especially when wounded, he is a great 
 lumbering brute, with a small eye and a thick hide ; 
 and while he is fond of a lair in a cave, or under an 
 overhanging rock, he takes his walks abroad in 
 some seasons at the tops of high mountains, and in 
 others in the most noisome swamps, where there is 
 no great attraction in following him. 
 
 Speaking generally, the elephant and the tiger are 
 the most interesting specimens of big game in the 
 Peninsula. They are plentiful, and they are con-
 
 WOODCUTS 165 
 
 stantly in evidence; the elephant as a tame, intelligent, 
 useful, and even lovable beast, and the tiger as a 
 wild, destructive, hateful terror. There are black 
 leopards and honey-bears, tapir and deer, and the 
 rare Malayan antelope, but they occupy a position 
 somewhat different from that of the bison, the 
 elephant, the rhinoceros, and the tiger. 
 
 It is very little hardship to spend a night or 
 two watching for elephant in the Malay jungle. 
 Here is one method. High up in a great tree, 
 overhanging a small stream in the depths of a 
 forest, is built a tiny covered platform, and on 
 this platform two or three men can sit or lie and 
 watch in turns. In the stream is a bed of black 
 sulphurous mud, which seems to have a strange 
 attraction for all kinds of game. Below it is a 
 deep pool, convenient for bathing. One bank of 
 the stream is rather high, the other low and 
 sandy. The width of the water is clear of trees, 
 and makes an open avenue in the forest, through 
 which the moonlight streams, shedding a flood of 
 light on spaces of sand and ripple, while overhang- 
 ing bushes cast dark shadows over the deeper pools. 
 The place is singularly lovely under these conditions ; 
 the quiet murmur of the stream, the warm Eastern 
 night, the checkered moonlight, the strange jungle
 
 166 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 noises, and the excitement of watching and expec- 
 tation, all lend attractions to the vigil, and discount 
 the annoyance of mosquitoes and sandflies and the 
 discomfort of a cramped position. As the night 
 wanes, the watcher may be rewarded by hearing the 
 slow approach of a heavy-footed beast, leisurely 
 feeding on the luxuriant vegetation through which 
 he forces his way to the stream. Then there will 
 be a sound of gentle splashing, and the eye may 
 discern, somewhat indistinctly, one or more huge 
 bodies bathing in a deep pool ; swaying from side 
 to side, dipping and rising, and evidently enjoying 
 their sedate sport in the cool water. Without 
 realising quite how or when it was done, the watcher 
 becomes aware of the fact that the splashing has 
 ceased. The game has gone, silently as it came, 
 and the ripple of the stream over the stones is the 
 only sound to break the stillness of the night. 
 
 Another long wait, and as the moon is setting, 
 and throws a brilliant bluish light on the stretch of 
 sand opposite the mudlick, there is a slight rustle 
 of leaves, a cracking of twigs, and a huge, dark 
 body emerges out of the misty cover into the open 
 stream-space. The watcher has only time to see the 
 moonlight glint on a white tusk, as the beast turns 
 up-stream, and after walking a few yards, finds deeper
 
 WOODCUTS 167 
 
 water, and there drinks and bathes. Then, slowly 
 rising from the water, the elephant comes out of the 
 shadow, and walks back on his tracks straight to- 
 wards the gun. That is the opportunity for a steady 
 shot, and if it is not fatal, a result hardly to be 
 expected in that light and shooting from such an 
 elevation, it will, with good luck, be sufficient to make 
 the tusker's progress so slow that, with daylight, it 
 will be an easy matter to follow and despatch him. 
 
 Except in the case of a dangerous rogue, I doubt 
 whether there is any great satisfaction to be derived 
 from the shooting of elephants, and this is specially 
 the case when one has seen a good deal of them in 
 captivity. Even for a pair of tusks, it seems at least 
 wasteful to destroy so huge, and usually harmless, a 
 beast which might, otherwise, live for a hundred years, 
 and either become a useful beast of burden, or help to 
 propagate others for that purpose. Apart from this 
 view, I confess I like to know that these vast tracts of 
 jungle are tenanted by herds of elephants, and it is 
 a satisfaction to feel that they are preserved from 
 indiscriminate slaughter, either by sportsmen or 
 those who would hunt them for gain. 
 
 The Malays of Perak own a good many tame 
 elephants, which have been captured in kraals or 
 born in captivity. The method of capture and train-
 
 i68 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 ing is similar to that employed in India and Siam, 
 and is sufficiently well known. Malay elephant- 
 drivers, in directing their beasts, use a kind of 
 elephant language, which comes from Siam, and 
 seems to be well understood by the animals. In- 
 stances of the intelligence of these beasts are com- 
 mon enough, and any number of cases might be 
 cited to prove it, but I may mention one of which I 
 was myself a witness. 
 
 A good many years ago I was travelling, with 
 two other Europeans, towards the Perak River. 
 We had nineteen elephants, only about a dozen of 
 them carrying burdens. The others were not 
 sufficiently trained for that purpose, or were too 
 young, and one of them was quite a baby, about a 
 year old, and not more than three feet high. We 
 had already been travelling for several days, when 
 one afternoon we crossed the pass dividing the 
 Larut and Perak River valleys, and descended a 
 steep incline into the latter. The small elephant 
 had been a constant source of amusement to us ; his 
 gambols were so quaint ; his naughtiness so varied 
 and engaging, that he kept the party in continual 
 laughter. If ever he found a log of wood lying 
 parallel to the path, he invariably tried to walk on 
 it, and though he repeatedly fell off, he would
 
 WOODCUTS 169 
 
 always get up again and persevere to the end. So 
 enamoured was he of this amusement, that if he 
 saw a log a little way off, he would not miss it, 
 though it gave him great trouble to get at it. Then 
 he took a fiendish delight in chasing stray Chinese 
 woodcutters, charcoal-burners, and all the tribe of 
 burden-bearers. Chinese are not used to elephants, 
 don't like them, and avoid them as far as possible. 
 But for any one carrying two heavy loads on a stick, 
 it was impossible to avoid this irrepressible baby ; 
 and the invariable result was that, after a short 
 chase and a useless effort to distance his pursuer, 
 the coolie would drop his burden and dash into the 
 jungle, where the elephant, having accomplished his 
 purpose, disdained to follow the yellow man. 
 
 These constant alarums and excursions retarded 
 the baby's progress considerably. Though he was 
 often left behind for a few minutes, and would come 
 up to the party with a terrible rush, threading his 
 way between the legs of the older and more sedate 
 members of the transport train, his mother became 
 anxious if there was any long absence, and his nurse 
 would go back and look for him, driving the truant 
 before her. The mother was a carrier, and there- 
 fore not at liberty to give the necessary attention 
 to her erring offspring, but still, she declined to go
 
 170 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 on without him, if she thought he had got too far 
 away. She had, however, delegated her duties to 
 another quite grown-up elephant, which was not 
 carrying any one or anything, so had plenty of time 
 at her disposal. This was the nurse. 
 
 We were travelling over a jungle track, which 
 necessitated walking in single file, and as we neared 
 the foot of the slope leading into the Perak Valley, we 
 came to a gigantic forest tree, which had fallen right 
 across the path. Exactly in the path, a great slice 
 of the tree had been sawn out and thrown on one 
 side, so that coolies carrying loads might pass with- 
 out having to get over the obstruction. All the 
 elephants went a little way along the tree, to where 
 the diameter was smaller, scrambled over, and then 
 waited in a bunch on the other side. We asked 
 the reason, and the drivers said they were waiting 
 for the baby, which had last been seen, higher up 
 the hill-side, chasing a Chinese coolie. 
 
 We tried to persuade the drivers to go on, but 
 either they could not or would not. They said the 
 elephants wanted to see the baby past the difficulty. 
 Suddenly there was a noise of scattering leaves and 
 rolling stones, and the baby ambled down the steep 
 decline at a really hazardous pace, made straight for 
 the cleft in the tree, dashed headlong into it, and
 
 WOODCUTS 171 
 
 there stuck fast ! Then he squealed lustily, and his 
 mother thumped her trunk on the ground, trumpeted 
 in a very high-pitched voice, and moved about in 
 such an uneasy way that she nearly threw her 
 passengers off her back. 
 
 The baby was caught very fairly by his ribs. He 
 seemed to fit the aperture exactly ; his head out in 
 front, his tail behind, and his body held as in a vice. 
 We were very curious to see what would happen, 
 and we had not long to wait. 
 
 The nurse went to the tree, and clambered over 
 it, where she had passed before. Then she slowly 
 walked to the path, looking at the imprisoned culprit 
 out of the corner of her eye as she passed his tail. 
 She took a couple of steps up the path, and then, 
 lowering her head, ran at the baby, smote him in 
 the hinder parts with her forehead, and sent him 
 about ten feet down the path on the other side of 
 his house of detention. The ungrateful little beast 
 never even looked round, but, with the impetus given 
 him, started off on a quest for new opportunities of 
 mischief. The nurse rejoined the party with or so 
 it seemed to me a curious twinkle in her eye, as 
 though she had administered chastisement, while 
 apparently only discharging her duties in the most 
 orthodox fashion.
 
 i?a THE REAL MALAY 
 
 The next day I saw the eighteen elephants take 
 the baby across the wide and (for him) deep Perak 
 River, and though, during the crossing, only the end 
 of his trunk was visible, waving about in the air in 
 vague and anguished protest, they managed to push 
 him safely across ; some of them always getting on 
 the down-stream side of him to prevent his being 
 carried away by the current. He crawled up the 
 opposite bank with some lack of energy, but in a 
 few minutes he was scouring the plain for goats 
 and Malay children, with all his accustomed eager- 
 ness and resolution. 
 
 
 
 I was once stationed, for a few months, in Pro- 
 vince Wellesley, the strip of British territory oppo- 
 site the island of Penang. Every week I used to 
 hold Court at two places, about ten miles apart, in 
 the south of the Province. Whilst sitting one after- 
 noon at the first of these places, I was informed 
 that two Malay constables had been attacked by a 
 tiger, on the road I had to traverse to reach the 
 other Court, where I always spent the night. As 
 soon as my work was finished, I borrowed a police 
 rifle, and drove off in the half-gharry, known locally 
 as a " shandry." 
 
 I had gone about seven miles, and it was past
 
 WOODCUTS 173 
 
 6 P.M., when the pony suddenly shied across the 
 road and stopped. I got out, thinking I smelt tiger, 
 and examined the place. I was in the middle of a 
 very long length of straight, level road, running 
 through big forest On either side of the road was 
 a border of grass, with a wide but shallow ditch of 
 running water between it and the jungle. Just in 
 front of the spot where my pony had stopped, was 
 a curious mark on the hard road. It was a good- 
 sized circle, scratched on the surface of the road, as 
 by the feet of some beast careering round and round. 
 From this circle I followed the recent tracks of a 
 large tiger, across the ditch into the jungle. There I 
 stopped, for it was getting dark, and I had no desire 
 to pursue the investigation further ; so I persuaded 
 the pony to pass over the infected ground, and drove 
 on, another three miles, to the combined court-house 
 and police station, where I was to spend the night. 
 
 On arrival, I asked whether any one there had 
 seen a tiger, and, being answered in the affirmative, 
 I said I should like to hear about it. So, while I 
 was having my dinner, I sent for the heroes of the 
 adventure, and this is the story as it came to me. 
 I am responsible for what I have said of the state of 
 the road, and for exactly repeating what I was told ; 
 but that is all.
 
 174 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 The two men ushered into my presence were 
 Malays. They were both constables one was tall 
 and lank, the other broad-shouldered, thick-set, and 
 powerful. The tall man I will call Panjang he was 
 rather a feeble specimen but the other was, I re- 
 member, named Mat ; he belonged to the Marine 
 Police, and a fine sturdy fellow at that. 
 
 I asked them kindly to tell me what had occurred, 
 and they did so ; first one and then the other taking 
 up the narrative, as to the facts of which there was 
 no difference of opinion. They had been white- 
 washing at the station where I held Court that 
 afternoon, and, their work done, they had started 
 about noon to walk home. Mat carried a long- 
 handled whitewashing brush, and Panjang a 
 Chinese umbrella. The journey was performed 
 without incident till they reached the spot where my 
 pony shied. There, without any warning, a tiger 
 sprang out of the jungle into the middle of the 
 road, right in front of them, barred their path, and 
 roared at them in a very terrifying way. They 
 confessed that they were stricken with a mortal 
 fear (at least Panjang had no hesitation in making 
 that admission), but, being Malays, they knew that 
 flight, while absolutely useless if the beast chose 
 to follow, would be almost certainly fatal. Under
 
 WOODCUTS 175 
 
 such circumstances, Malay advice says, drop on one 
 knee, and if you have a spear, hold the point to- 
 wards the enemy and wait for his attack ; if you 
 have only a stick, make believe it is a spear, and 
 the tiger may not recognise the difference. Therefore 
 they both knelt down, Mat in front, holding the 
 whitewashing brush in rest, and Panjang, under 
 his wing, with the umbrella. The tiger advanced, 
 roaring and lashing his tail; but- Mat opposed a 
 firm front with the whitewashing brush, and as the 
 beast came close, progged at him so that he nearly 
 painted his whiskers. The tiger skipped round, to 
 take them in flank, but they turned on the pivot of 
 their feet, and the brush was always there. The 
 tiger evidently misdoubted this novel weapon, and 
 suddenly changed his tactics. He slewed com- 
 pletely round, and, with his hind-feet, scratched 
 furiously on the road, throwing a shower of sand 
 and gravel at the constables. No doubt this move- 
 ment was intended to blind and disconcert them, but 
 Panjang covered his companion and himself with 
 the umbrella, and though the tiger, in his endeavour 
 to get under their guard, described a complete 
 circle round them, the missiles thrown by his claws 
 rattled harmlessly on the stout paper shield. Then, 
 as suddenly as before, the beast faced round again,
 
 176 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 only to find himself confronted by the long bristles 
 of the whitewashing brush. 
 
 The constables said this went on for about twenty 
 minutes (in my own mind I set it down at two or 
 three), during which the tiger made a regular circus 
 ring on the road, as he attacked alternately face 
 foremost and tail foremost. Apparently disgusted 
 with the stoutness and novel character of the re> 
 sistance opposed to him, he leaped across the ditch 
 and disappeared into the jungle as suddenly as he 
 had come. 
 
 The constables picked themselves up, with fer- 
 vent thanks to the Almighty, and quickly retreated 
 down the road till they had put a considerable 
 distance between themselves and the scene of their 
 encounter. 
 
 The road was, as I have said, straight and flat; 
 it was lonely and without habitation, and they were 
 still in full view of the circus ring, when a party of 
 eight or ten Chinese came in sight. The constables 
 waited for them, and when the Chinese joined them, 
 tried to explain that there was a tiger a few hundred 
 yards farther on, and it might be well, as they had 
 no weapon not even a stick or an umbrella, only 
 short trousers and wide Chinese hats to wait until 
 some one better equipped came along. The coolies
 
 WOODCUTS 177 
 
 probably understood very little of what was said ; 
 anyhow they laughed and pursued their way, while 
 the Malays, satisfied with their own experience, 
 waited to see what would happen. 
 
 The Chinese, laughing and talking at the tops of 
 their voices, soon reached the enemy's position, and 
 in a moment the tiger sprang into the arena, creating 
 the greatest disorder. Several of the Chinese fell 
 into the ditches on either side of the road, while the 
 others yelled and screamed, and some even wagged 
 or threw their hats at the beast. This was too 
 much for his majesty, and again he disappeared 
 into the jungle; while the Chinese collected them- 
 selves and their scattered wits and proceeded on 
 their way. 
 
 By-and-by some people, coming from the opposite 
 direction, passed without molestation, and as the 
 afternoon was waning, Mat and Panjang, with 
 somewhat shaky knees, but relying on their proved 
 weapons, started again, passed the Valley of the 
 Shadow without hearing so much as a growl, and 
 reached the station in safety. 
 
 My theory is that the tiger had a kill, probably a 
 pig, in the jungle at the edge of the road. He was 
 annoyed at being disturbed, but was not in search 
 
 of food. Therefore he simply rushed out to com- 
 
 M
 
 178 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 plain, and try to get a little peace while he made 
 his meal. Finding this impossible, especially if 
 parties of ten or a dozen Chinese might be expected 
 at any moment, he made a virtue of necessity and 
 took his dinner elsewhere. 
 
 There is a tiger story which is well known in 
 Malaya, but deserves all the publicity that can be 
 got for it. A few months ago a Malay, named Said, 
 went out to cut wood at a place called Kepong, in 
 the Malay State of Selangor. He took with him an 
 old muzzle-loading gun, charged with a bullet and 
 four buck-shot. He had not gone far into the 
 jungle when he saw a tiger in front of him, at a 
 distance of about twenty yards. Said raised his 
 gun, fired, and dropped the tiger. He then 
 cautiously approached, but as the beast did not 
 move, Said went right up to it, and then, to his 
 amazement, discovered that he had killed not one, 
 but two tigers a male and a female. Both these 
 beasts were taken into Kuala Lumpur (the chief 
 town of Selangor) to prove Said's claim to the 
 Government reward. The tigress measured 7 feet 
 IO inches in length, and 15^ inches round the fore- 
 arm ; while the male, a young one, measured 7 feet 
 3 1 inches in length. Mr. A. L. Butler, the Curator 
 of the Selangor Museum, carefully examined these
 
 WOODCUTS 179 
 
 tigers, and wrote the following letter to the editor 
 of the local newspaper, the Malay Mail: 
 
 "DEAR SIR, The account which appeared in 
 your paper yesterday of the Malay at Kepong bag- 
 ging a brace of tigers at one shot is so extraordinary 
 that a few further particulars ought to interest some 
 of your readers. 
 
 " I made a post-mortem examination of these 
 tigers last night, and the shot which killed them 
 must indeed have been a marvellously lucky one. 
 
 " In one case a single buck-shot, no larger than a 
 pea I showed it to you last night, Mr. Editor had 
 struck the beast low down behind the shoulder, gone 
 through the centre of the heart, and lodged under the 
 skin on the other side. There was no other wound. 
 
 " The second tiger, too, had been killed by one of 
 these insignificant pellets, which entered under the 
 elbow, cut through the heart, and travelled on down 
 the body. A second slug had struck the animal on 
 the head, but this wound was only trifling. The 
 Malay said the tigers were feeding on a deer when 
 he came on them, and the truth of this was borne 
 out by their stomachs being full of pieces of sambur 
 flesh and hair. The tigress had also eaten a quantity 
 of grass, a habit which has been observed before 
 among the larger carnivora.
 
 i8o THE REAL MALAY 
 
 " The man's story was told with every appearance 
 of truth; indeed, he seemed to see nothing sur- 
 prising in it at all." 
 
 I have heard a good many strange tiger stories, 
 but, I confess, I should have hesitated to repeat this 
 one had the evidence been less convincing. 
 
 At a place called Senggat, in Perak, there is a 
 small colony of foreign Malays ; they are planters, 
 and come from a place called Mandling, in Sumatra. 
 The settlement is out of the way; the people are 
 seldom brought into contact with Government 
 officers, and they know practically nothing of 
 Government regulations. When the necessity 
 arises, their affairs are managed by a head-man, one 
 Raja Mahmud, a man of their own tribe. Other- 
 wise they live apart, concerned only with the culti- 
 vation of their fields and orchards, and they have 
 few dealings with the Malays of the country, by 
 whom they are regarded as foreigners of a somewhat 
 uncivilised type. 
 
 Three years ago, two men of this settlement, 
 Ingonen and Jesuman, went out one morning in 
 search of deer. They made for a place called 
 Jerneh, at some distance from Senggat, and did not 
 arrive there till past noon. Ingonen carried an old
 
 WOODCUTS 181 
 
 musket, and Jesuman a chopping knife. After 
 wandering about in a jungle of secondary growth, 
 Jesuman, then a few paces behind his companion, 
 saw a rhinoceros coming straight at Ingonen. The 
 latter fired, but the beast charged home, caught the 
 unfortunate man on its horn and went over him. 
 Jesuman heard his friend call out, "Allah! Allah!" 
 and having no means of rendering assistance, made 
 the best of his way to Jerneh, where he reported 
 what had happened. Two Malays immediately 
 returned with Jesuman, to the place where the 
 accident had happened, and found Ingonen lying on 
 his back, covered with blood and terribly wounded, 
 but still alive. The rhinoceros had moved away, 
 but could still be heard grunting, at no great dis- 
 tance. There was a great hole through the man's 
 chest, and deep wounds in the back of both his 
 thighs; he groaned ceaselessly, and said, "Take 
 me home." As they raised him, a thick stream of 
 blood welled up through the hole in his chest, and 
 while they carried him towards Jerneh, he could 
 only moan and feebly mutter, " Allah ! Allah ! " 
 
 Ingonen died before the bearers reached Jerneh. 
 The body was taken the same evening to Senggat, 
 and buried the next day, by order of the priest in 
 charge of the Mosque.
 
 i8z THE REAL MALAY 
 
 A report of the accident was carried to the nearest 
 station, but a Malay detective threw suspicion on 
 the tale, suggested foul-play, and said there was a 
 rumour that the dead man had been shot by his 
 companion, Jesuman. The magistrate of the district, 
 therefore, directed a European officer to take an 
 apothecary, go to Senggat, exhume the body, and 
 examine it. Early in the morning after the day of 
 burial, this officer went to Senggat, to carry out his 
 instructions. He took with him a native apothe- 
 cary, a Tamil, and also the head-man of the division 
 the mukim, as the Malays call it. 
 
 After a walk of six miles along a main road, the 
 three turned into the jungle, and in a few minutes 
 came out on the edge of the valley of Senggat. The 
 village was hidden from general sight, but infinitely 
 picturesque and attractive to any one who can ap- 
 preciate Malay scenery. The first view of the place 
 was obtained from a rising ground, overlooking a 
 long, narrow valley, through which wound a small, 
 clear stream. The stream irrigated a fair stretch of 
 rice-land, then newly planted, and brilliant with 
 emerald tones. From the higher end of this field 
 rose a small hill, crowned by a quaintly-constructed 
 plank Mosque, and all the valley was shut in by un- 
 dulating country, covered with dark-green coffee
 
 WOODCUTS 183 
 
 trees, orchards, and jungle. Through the rich 
 foliage of the palms and fruit trees were caught 
 glimpses of brown cottages, thatched with grass or 
 atap, and beyond all rose distant purple hills. It 
 was a glorious morning, and an Eastern sun flung 
 down light and colour from a cloudless sapphire sky. 
 
 The visitors were evidently expected, and as soon 
 as they appeared, some men, standing on the hill by 
 the temple, shouted a warning, and immediately 
 every house sent its quota of men, women, and 
 children, walking and running and scrambling up 
 to the Mosque. 
 
 The three strangers made their way down into 
 the valley, crossed the stream, and climbed the hill 
 to the Mosque, where they found the whole popula- 
 tion assembled. The local chief, Raja Mahmud, was 
 absent, but his agent, and the priest of the Mosque, 
 listened while the officer described his business and 
 the cause of it. Then they said that the grave 
 could not be opened. The burial had been properly 
 conducted, the sun would get on the corpse, and the 
 apothecary would certainly want to cut the body 
 up; these, they said, were all good reasons for 
 declining to do as they were desired. 
 
 Directly the women heard these objections raised 
 by the men, they, and the children, went in a body
 
 184 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and sat upon the newly-made grave, which was on 
 the hill, only a few feet in front of the Mosque. 
 
 There was a small bamboo platform in front of 
 the Mosque; the platform had a lean-to roof, and 
 here the English officer argued the case with the 
 village elders. But all to no purpose. The majo- 
 rity was inflexible, and the majority was numerous. 
 Meanwhile the women and children, about forty 
 strong, squatted close together on the grave, and 
 broke into a wild dirge, the burden of which seemed 
 to be a request to the officer not to disturb their 
 dead. The strange picturesqueness of the scene, 
 with all these quaintly-clad people, adding new 
 colour, life, and incident to an already striking pic- 
 ture, did not wholly compensate the officer for the 
 foiling of his purpose. Finding argument useless, 
 he stated his determination to remain there till the 
 grave was opened and the body exhumed ; but as 
 the chief objection seemed to be to the Tamil 
 apothecary, the officer agreed that he should not 
 touch the body. Even then the authority of the 
 Malay head-man had to be exercised before the 
 priest and the agent would send for spades. When 
 the implements arrived, the women and children 
 only huddled closer together, entirely covering the 
 grave, and continued to wail their lament in a higher
 
 WOODCUTS 185 
 
 key. As the local authorities seemed nonplussed, 
 matters were again at a standstill, when the officer 
 had a happy inspiration. 
 
 " Is it true," he inquired, " that the Mandelings 
 are ruled by their women ? " 
 
 Raja Mahmud's agent, without replying to the 
 question, got up and drove the women away. 
 
 A scarlet cloth, with a broad white border, was 
 then fixed on four poles over the grave, to keep the 
 sun off the coffin, and three men began to dig out 
 the earth in a very half-hearted fashion. With 
 many halts and rests, the work was at last accom- 
 plished, and the poor body, with its ghastly wounds, 
 exposed to view. There was no doubt about the 
 cause of death, and the apothecary was not allowed 
 even to see the dead man. The officer, leaving the 
 villagers to the noisome task of reburial, returned to 
 his station, glad to get away from the vicinity of a 
 two-days-old corpse.
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 
 
 IN Perak, and in other parts of the Malay Penin- 
 sula, there is a common belief in the existence 
 saving the word of an invisible tribe called the 
 drang bAnyi-an. That is, " the people who make 
 sounds," in distinction to those who can be seen. 
 This superstition is of ancient origin, and the 
 " sound-folk " are supposed to frequent certain 
 secluded places, usually streams or swamps in the 
 heart of the jungle, where they are heard, by wood- 
 cutters and other venturesome people, paddling their 
 phantom boats through the water, talking, singing, 
 but very rarely, if ever, disclosing themselves to 
 mortals. In Perak, it is stated, that one or other of 
 the sound-folk sometimes conceives a fancy for some 
 man or woman, and, by occult powers, gives valu- 
 able information or assistance. They are harmless, 
 and their power to remain invisible sometimes leads 
 to strange situations. If, on rare occasions, one of 
 
 them does appear, he or she assumes the guise of a 
 
 m
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 187 
 
 Malay, and the connection with the drang btinyi-an 
 is usually established by an excessive generosity 
 in money matters, and invariably after the stranger 
 has departed. 
 
 There is a small hill called Geliong, on the right 
 bank of the Perak River, about 1 50 miles from its 
 mouth. There is a tradition of a foundered treasure- 
 ship at this place, and the word Gtliong is, in all pro- 
 bability, a Malay corruption of galleon. Near this 
 hill there lived, some fifty years ago, a man called 
 Anjang Asin. He was a landowner, well to do, 
 dwelt in a good house, and amongst his retainers 
 was a young girl called S'mas (the Golden One), a 
 sort of maid-of-all-work and general drudge. The 
 master was a hard man, and not over-honest. The 
 maid was willing, and when not employed in the 
 house cooking, sewing, pounding rice, or carrying 
 water at every one's beck and call she was made 
 to work in the rice-fields ; hoeing, planting, reaping, 
 or gleaning, according to the season. 
 
 In spite of the many duties thrust upon S'mas, it 
 was noticed that her work was always done without 
 effort, and the family soon realised that this was the 
 result of supernatural agency. The work was done 
 for her by invisible hands, and a voice vox et 
 praterea nihil declared that the assistance was
 
 i88 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 rendered by one of the sound-folk, a woman, who 
 called herself Sura Indra, but the Malays gave her 
 the title of Toh Moyang that is to say, the great- 
 great-grandmother. The voice of this spirit-presence 
 soon became well known in the house. It joined in 
 conversations, talked and sang to itself, or to S'mas, 
 and seemed to take a special delight in lecturing 
 Anjang Asin; a treat which he failed to relish, 
 but from which he did not know how to protect 
 himself. 
 
 Toh Moyang, taking the master to task, advised 
 him not to be deceitful on the weights ; not to use a 
 large measure when he bought, and a small one 
 when he sold. Further, she upbraided him with 
 inhospitality, and told him to be more liberal, saying 
 that he need not be afraid to spend, for she would 
 help him. Anjang Asin became enraged, and replied, 
 " What is the use of talking to me ? you don't help ; 
 you don't give me gold." 
 
 "You have gold/' said Toh Moyang, meaning, of 
 course, the girl S'mas. 
 
 One night thieves broke into the house of Anjang 
 Asin, and were just removing a box of valuables, 
 when Toh Moyang called out, " Thieves ! thieves ! " 
 The master jumped up, and the thieves fled, leaving 
 the box on the threshold.
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 189 
 
 The agency of Toh Moyang was specially noticed 
 when S'mas was ordered to plant out the padi. 
 For what is called wet padi, a small nursery is 
 planted, and the seed comes up like a thick crop of 
 intensely green grass. When the shoots are about 
 eighteen inches high, they are pulled up by the 
 roots, carried to the already prepared fields, and 
 planted out by the women. The seedlings are 
 usually planted out in the water-covered fields with 
 an iron prong, and a clever hand does the work very 
 rapidly. When S'mas went planting, any one could 
 see that for every rice-stalk which she planted, an 
 invisible hand put in at least twice as many more. 
 The sight of these seedlings walking out of the bundle 
 and sitting down, one by one, in the water and mud 
 of the irrigated field, excited great astonishment. 
 
 The strange doings of Toh Moyang, and especially 
 the scoldings from which he could not protect himself, 
 got on Anjang Asin's nerves, and he went round to 
 the district chief, and all his neighbours, complain- 
 ing of his unhappy fate, and asking if any one could 
 tell him how to get rid of the voice-woman. 
 
 One of the neighbours, a certain Che Manggek, at 
 once undertook the job, saying he knew the whole 
 art of dealing with spirits, and he would make the 
 necessary incantations, and relieve Anjang Asin of
 
 190 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 the presence of Toh Moyang. Accordingly one day 
 Che Manggek went to the house, with a great posse 
 of his friends and admirers, but when he got to the 
 door, the voice of Toh Moyang called out to him, 
 " Welcome, Manggek ! You have come to exorcise 
 me ; to render me helpless and drive me away ; 
 well, try your best, I am waiting to see what you 
 can do." When he heard this, Manggek began, in 
 a loud voice, to declaim all his most famous incanta- 
 tions for the casting out of evil spirits ; but the 
 voice of Toh Moyang was heard above his voice, 
 abusing him and making fun of him, till the crowd 
 laughed, and Manggek ran away. 
 
 A famous priest, one Imam Dor^ni, hearing of 
 Che Manggek's adventure, said, " Manggek went 
 to exorcise this spirit with all his superstitious 
 rubbish, and of course he failed. I will go and cast 
 out this demon in the name of God." 
 
 Anjang Asin bade him come and do his best; but 
 before the Imam had even reached the door of the 
 house, the voice of Toh Moyang was heard, saying, 
 " Manggek came here with ten fingers, and thought 
 to drive me away. Now you have come with only 
 six fingers; do you think you can succeed where 
 he failed?" 
 
 DorAni, the priest, from his birth deformed in one
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 191 
 
 hand, was so disconcerted by this uncanny and out- 
 spoken knowledge on the part of the spirit he had 
 undertaken to lay, that he incontinently fled, and 
 Anjang Asin resigned himself to the tyranny of the 
 inevitable. 
 
 By this time, the doings and sayings of Toh 
 Moyang were the gossip of the country-side, and, 
 eventually, they came to the ears of the Raja Muda 
 (that is, the heir-apparent), who sent for Anjang 
 Asin, in order that he might hear all about this 
 supernatural manifestation. The Raja Muda was 
 then at a place called Bukit Gantang the Hill of 
 the Gallon-measure and Anjang Asin duly obeyed 
 the summons. Bukit Gantang is now a roadside 
 hamlet, the centre of an extensive rice-field, but a 
 poor place for all that. In those days it was the 
 residence of the most wealthy chief in Perak, the 
 home of his wives, the centre of his authority, a 
 half-way house where the most lavish hospitality 
 was dispensed to all comers, and the rendezvous of 
 most of the beauty, intelligence, and bravado of the 
 Perak ruling classes. 
 
 There was the hill, a slight elevation, planted 
 with palms and fruit trees, under the shade of which 
 were dotted about the dwellings of the chief, his 
 wives, and people. These houses and gardens and
 
 I 9 2 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 orchards, occupying the whole of the rising ground, 
 were surrounded by a high brick wall, through 
 which gates and doors led, on one side to the main 
 road, and on another to a lake, the water lapping 
 the western base of the hill, from the road in front 
 right round to the back, where rose, sheer from the 
 plain, a range of lofty jungle-covered mountains. 
 
 It was worth a journey to see that stretch of water, 
 running out and in round the projections and in- 
 dentations of the low hill which sat, behind its 
 encircling wall, dreaming over the silent mere. Not 
 that there was anything wonderful about the lake 
 beyond its picturesque setting. The wonder was 
 that in it grew legions of lotus lilies, so that only 
 occasional spaces of water dazzling mirrors, reflect- 
 ing the sapphire sky and the fleecy white clouds 
 lay, like ever-changing pictures, amid their marvel- 
 lous framing. But the frames : the lotus leaves ! 
 the lotus flowers ! the lotus fruit ! They were a 
 sight to see. It was a very jungle of lotuses. Great 
 circular leaves, spread flat on the surface of the 
 mere, with fat globules of water, like gigantic dew- 
 drops, sliding or resting on their green velvety faces. 
 Forests of stalks, short and long, bearing the glori- 
 ous wave-edged leaves, bending slightly over, and 
 gleaming with the marvellous bloom which gives to
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 193 
 
 their green softness an indescribable sheen of blue. 
 Then there were thousands of flowers; beds and 
 clusters and isolated stems, of buds and blossoms 
 in every shade, from deepest to palest pink, only 
 the full-blown flowers disclosing their yellow centres. 
 Scattered about in every direction, amidst these 
 leaves and blossoms, were hundreds of lotus fruit ; 
 the green pod, shaped like the rose of a watering- 
 can, with a yellow seed peeping through every eyelet. 
 As the fruit ripens, the stalk becomes black, the 
 curious pod takes hues of heliotrope and brown, the 
 eyelet holes open, and the seeds fall into the water, 
 sink, take root and shoot again. 
 
 Over the surface of the mere flitted myriads of 
 dragon-flies, scarlet and orange and turquoise-blue ; 
 they dipped their transparent wings in the water, 
 and, when tired of chasing each other, rested on the 
 leaves and flowers of the lotus. 
 
 A single tree stood in the middle of the lake, 
 where the lotus lilies grew thickest. It was quite 
 a small tree, but it held a dozen nests of the tailor- 
 bird, and more than half of them were perching- 
 places for the males. There was a ceaseless twitter- 
 ing from the tree, but the skilful weavers of these 
 elaborate houses seemed as fond of sitting on the 
 
 roofs as on the carefully protected perches. At 
 
 N
 
 194 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 least that was the case with the male birds. No 
 inquisitive eye was permitted to intrude upon the 
 seclusion of the seamstresses. 
 
 Far away, where the mountain slope rose steeply 
 from the mere, and a stretch of open water blinked 
 under the scorching rays of the sun, there swam, 
 and dived, and fought, a flock of dark-plumaged 
 teal; shy birds which, at the slightest sound of 
 danger, would rise heavily from their cover. Then, 
 with much whistling and clatter of wings, they circled 
 round the lake at a safe height ; till, having selected 
 their point, they would stretch out into a long line, 
 and, flying high and strong, disappear into space. 
 
 Certainly the Hill of the Gallon-measure was a 
 place to see ; but it is doubtful whether its attrac- 
 tions appealed to Anjang Asin, when he arrived 
 there late one afternoon in obedience to a summons 
 from the Raja Muda, to satisfy that chief's curiosity 
 concerning the sound-woman. 
 
 The visitors were accommodated in the house of 
 one Pandak Leman, a house within the wall. As 
 soon as their arrival was known, the Raja Muda 
 sent a messenger to inquire whether they had 
 brought Toh Moyang. Anjang Asin replied that 
 he was quite unable to answer that question, but 
 he had brought the girl S'mas.
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 195 
 
 Round the side of the hill, opposite to that where 
 lay the lake, there wound a small clear rivulet, and 
 thither at sunset the strangers went to bathe, as is 
 the custom of all Malays. One of the girls of the 
 party, on seeing the brook, said, " I have heard a 
 deal of this place, of its wealth and its greatness, 
 and I expected to find a splendid river, far finer 
 than the sunbeam of our Perak Valley. Is this the 
 river of much-vaunted Bukit Gantang?" Then 
 a voice, which they all recognised as that of 
 Toh Moyang, answered mockingly, " River, indeed, 
 this miserable streamlet ! I could make a better 
 myself." 
 
 So, when the women returned to the house of 
 Pandak Leman, they told what had occurred, and 
 the news was carried to the Raja Muda that surely 
 Toh Moyang was there. 
 
 Shortly afterwards the visitors dined, and when 
 they had eaten their rice, the voice of Toh Moyang 
 asked for dates. A dish of the fruit was served, 
 and while the guests were eating it, every one saw 
 and heard date seeds fall on the floor, as though 
 thrown down from the ceiling. About this time a 
 message was brought from the Raja Muda, to say 
 that he would come to Pandak Leman's house to 
 talk with Toh Moyang. Before any one could make
 
 196 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 any reply, Toh Moyang said, "The Raja Muda 
 come here to talk to me ! That would not be right. 
 I will go myself to his Highness." The messenger 
 accordingly returned to his master, and told what 
 he had heard. The girl S'mas was sent up to the 
 Raja Muda, and the large company assembled there 
 waited expectantly to hear the sound-woman. With 
 a perverseness only met with in bodiless females, 
 Toh Moyang declined to utter a word, and this 
 disappointing result was ascribed to the presence 
 of an unsympathetic person, who had derided the 
 popular belief in spirit-voices. As there was no 
 manifestation, S'mas was sent back to the house of 
 Pandak Leman, and a courtier from the suite of the 
 Raja Muda, one Che Lobih, came to try his own 
 fortune. He was reputed a very skilful talker, this 
 Che Lobih, and he made an earnest appeal to the 
 voice to let him hear her speak. To his great 
 delight, Toh Moyang said 
 
 "Well, I am here; what is it you want ? " 
 
 Che Lobih answered, " I have a request to make. 
 You are a very clever woman, and I want you to 
 give me knowledge." 
 
 " What would you know ? " asked the voice. 
 
 " I would know," said Che Lobih, " the secret of 
 winning a woman's heart."
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 197 
 
 " Why do you seek that ? " asked the voice ; 
 " always that, and only that." 
 
 " Never mind, then," replied the courtier. " But 
 tell me how I can win you, Toh Moyang, for it is 
 you I want." 
 
 But the great-great-grandmother only deigned to 
 speak the oracular words, "Asing dddok-nya? 
 
 Literally interpreted, this means, " It is some- 
 where else you wish to sit." The saying has be- 
 come proverbial, and, amongst the upper classes 
 in Perak, is commonly used as a polite way of 
 signifying doubt of the genuineness of an expressed 
 wish or intention. 
 
 When Che Lobih had retired to relate his experi- 
 ences to the Raja Muda, the house of Pandak Leman 
 was closed for the night. The master was lying sick 
 of a fever, and he asked for some one to massage 
 him. Immediately the voice of Toh Moyang said, 
 "I will massage you;" and at once the sick man 
 felt his limbs gently and deftly pinched and rubbed 
 by a cool soft hand. Pandak Leman, relieved and 
 delighted, said, "I thank you, Toh Moyang; I 
 have a great desire to feel your hand will you 
 allow me ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the voice ; " here is my arm, you can 
 feel it."
 
 198 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 Pandak Leman put out his hand and touched a 
 smooth soft arm. Passing his fingers over the skin, 
 he suddenly tried to seize the wrist, but found he 
 held nothing. Then the voice said, "You must not 
 try to hold me ; you cannot. You did not ask for 
 that, and I should not have consented. I have 
 massaged you, and you must give me something for 
 my trouble. I want to buy things for S'mas." 
 
 Pandak Leman said, " Certainly, I will give 
 you something ; where is your hand ? " At the 
 same time he took out two silver dollars. 
 
 Toh Moyang replied, " My hand is ready ; drop 
 the dollars." 
 
 Pandak Leman dropped the dollars, and they 
 disappeared without ever reaching the floor. 
 
 The next day Anjang Asin, S'mas, and the rest 
 of the party returned to Bukit Geliong, and from 
 time to time Toh Moyang continued her admoni- 
 tions, which were persistently ignored by Anjang 
 Asin. At last a great disaster befell the man. The 
 building in which he kept stored the whole of the 
 season's rice crop took fire, and was utterly de- 
 stroyed. From that day the voice of Toh Moyang 
 was never heard by Anjang Asin or any of his 
 family. 
 
 The Sultan of Perak, speaking to me of this
 
 AFTER THE IMPRESSIONISTS 199 
 
 superstition concerning the voice-people, and the 
 story of Anjang Asin's experiences, said, " Many 
 years afterwards, when Anjang Asin was an old 
 man, nearing death and afraid to lie, I asked him 
 whether Toh Moyang had really burned his padi 
 store. He answered, ' I dare not say Toh Moyang 
 burned it, for I did not see her do it ; but I had no 
 enemies, and from the day of the fire I never heard 
 her voice again.' "
 
 AN "OLD MASTER" 
 
 BEFORE British influence was known in the 
 Malay States that is, before the year 1874 
 there lived in one of them a Malay chief who, 
 partly by reason of his rank, more by his 
 wealth, and most by his cunning, seemed destined 
 to play a conspicuous part in the affairs of his 
 country. 
 
 The State to which he belonged was one of the 
 largest, most populous, and important in the Penin- 
 sula, and when Wan Jafar was about five-and- 
 thirty years of age, he found himself the holder of 
 a high office, which carried with it a great title, 
 unlimited power within an extensive district, and a 
 rapidly-increasing revenue from the development of 
 vast stretches of country rich in minerals. He 
 owned several steamers, houses, and property within 
 and without the confines of what was, practically, 
 his own territory; and he had at his command a 
 small force of foreign mercenaries wherewith to
 
 AN "OLD MASTER" 201 
 
 keep in order the Chinese miners on whose industry 
 he depended for his revenues. As I have said, he 
 was a dignitary of the State, and his father had held 
 the same office before him ; but for all that, he was 
 not a man of high birth, nor yet of pure Malay 
 blood. His wealth gave him a commanding position 
 in the country, and his astuteness (a quality which 
 he probably derived from his non-Malay ancestors) 
 enabled him to use it in a way that not only made 
 him acceptable to the ruler, but suggested schemes 
 of personal aggrandisement which contained good 
 promise of fulfilment. About this time the Sultan 
 of the country died, and, owing to a variety of cir- 
 cumstances which it is needless to go into here, the 
 rightful heir was set aside, and a foreign Raja, who 
 could only claim connection with the State through 
 his mother, was elected to the chief power. The 
 new Sultan was a great personal friend of Wan 
 Jafar, who was mainly responsible for his election, 
 and there is little doubt that the minister put for- 
 ward his nominee with the shrewd intention of 
 stepping into his shoes. Under ordinary circum- 
 stances the appointment of a state-officer a man 
 with no claim to royal blood to be the ruler of a 
 Malay country, would be outside the realm of possi- 
 bility. That had, however, happened elsewhere,
 
 202 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and if once ancient customs were set aside, and a 
 precedent established, Wan Jafar relied upon his 
 power, wealth, and intelligence to do the rest. 
 Granted that he could secure the acceptance, as 
 Sultan, of one who had no claim by birth, he 
 reflected that his friend, who was already an old 
 man, might in time be persuaded to retire in his 
 favour. Money and a supple tongue would draw 
 the waverers to his side. 
 
 The scheme was feasible, and for a time things 
 went well enough ; but the minister had left out of 
 his reckoning, or too easily discarded, two important 
 factors the rightful but disappointed claimant, and 
 the British Government. It was excusable that the 
 claimant should be treated as a quantity n^gligeable, 
 for, indeed, he was a poor thing, wanting in spirit 
 in money, and in friends. As for the British, they 
 had never concerned themselves with Malay affairs, 
 and there was no reason why they should do so now. 
 Of all the people in the country, none knew them so 
 well as Wan Jafar. That a combination of the 
 rejected heir and the British Government should 
 bring about his own discomfiture, and that partly 
 owing to the action of a section of his Chinese 
 miners, never occurred to him. 
 
 It was, however, that very combination, assisted
 
 AN "OLD MASTER" 203 
 
 by subsequent events, which deposed Wan Jafar 
 from place and power, and sent him thousands of 
 miles away, to ruminate on his lost opportunities and 
 throttled ambitions. Hardest of all to bear, the 
 sentence passed upon him involved the breaking-up 
 of his home, and separation from his wives and 
 children, relatives and friends. 
 
 At the zenith of his prosperity, Wan Jafar had 
 married a girl of equal rank with himself and of 
 better family. I cannot say what she was like 
 then, but when I first saw her, she was certainly 
 a woman of remarkable appearance. I used to 
 imagine she might resemble Cleopatra, though that 
 was no great compliment to the Egyptian queen. 
 It was not, however, her undoubtedly striking face 
 which distinguished this lady from other Malay 
 women, so much as her uncompromising hostility to 
 the British Government, to its officers, and all their 
 works. Later I found that, in this attitude, she in- 
 cluded a good many of her own nationality as well, 
 and while it was mainly due to inherent pecu- 
 liarities of character, it was aggravated by circum- 
 stances of which she was the unfortunate victim. 
 
 As the principal wife of the wealthiest and most 
 powerful chief in the land, her every wish had been 
 gratified; and being a very determined, masterful,
 
 204 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and extravagant lady, her wishes were numerous 
 and expensive. I may say here that, with a Malay 
 woman, the test of real affection on the part of a 
 man, be he husband or lover, is the extent of his 
 generosity. The most extravagant protestations of 
 love, without gifts to prove their reality, are but as 
 siren-voices to the deaf. The sincerity and value of 
 the lover's vows are gauged by his liberality, in 
 trinkets and other costly trifles. I suppose this 
 discrimination is the result of generations of experi- 
 ence. It is not in any way resented by Malay men ; 
 on the contrary, they accept the position, and do 
 what they can to perpetuate it. There are excep- 
 tions ; of course, there always are, but in this respect 
 they are rare. If nothing of the kind is known in 
 more enlightened countries, the moral depravity of 
 these people must be ascribed to original sin and 
 the climate. Whatever the cause, the melancholy 
 fact remains, and if the position is rightly under- 
 stood, there will be some sympathy with Wan 
 Jafar's wife, when she suddenly found herself de- 
 prived of all that had helped to make her one of the 
 greatest ladies in the land. I may be doing her a 
 wrong, but it is possible that her feelings would 
 have been less bitter if she had, instead of losing 
 everything, received some material compensation for
 
 AN "OLD MASTER" 205 
 
 the loss of her husband ; such, for instance, as rail- 
 way companies give in case of serious accidents. 
 
 Besides the principal wife to whom I have 
 already referred, Wan Jafar was the husband of 
 another lady, Che Dewi, renowned throughout the 
 country for the charm (well recognised by Malays) 
 which belongs to wit, intelligence, and the voice 
 which is "soft and low"; attractions which may 
 accompany good looks, but are oftener found apart 
 from them, lending to a face where there are no 
 striking features a beauty of its own. 
 
 As may easily be imagined, there was a very real 
 rivalry between these two wives. Both were young 
 (Che Dewi being little more than a girl); both, in 
 their different ways, the objects of admiration and 
 flattery ; both rich in all that a wealthy and power- 
 ful husband could give them, and both of widely 
 divergent characters. 
 
 When Wan Jafar fell from his high estate, lost 
 everything a man values, and was banished to a 
 distant island, he invited these two ladies to accom- 
 pany him in his exile. But they declined. Consider- 
 ing his circumstances, and the very small sum 
 allowed him to live upon, the refusal was probably a 
 blessing in disguise. I don't think that was the 
 light in which he regarded it, but he disappeared,
 
 206 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and for over twenty years Malay society only heard 
 of him through the post. 
 
 From the date of their husband's banishment, a 
 moderate allowance was allotted to the principal 
 wife, who had two sons, and a smaller sum to Che 
 Dewi, who had one. After some years, Che Dewi 
 lost her boy, and applied to her husband to release 
 her, but he declined. That was his revenge. 
 
 As time went on, she applied again and again, but 
 still the husband refused, until at last the Sultan of 
 the State took the matter up, and a divorce was duly 
 granted. Che Dewi at once married again, and the 
 other wife, her former rival, was full of scorn for 
 the backsliding of this weaker vessel But Time is 
 a great chastener, and, under his influence, others 
 besides the Psalmist learn to repent of the things said 
 in haste. Therefore it happened that, after ten or 
 twelve years, the smart, high-born wife also wrote 
 to her husband and asked for a divorce, pointing out 
 that the circumstances were very unusual, and there 
 was no prospect of his return. Wan Jafar, as to 
 the other, replied that there was nothing to prevent 
 her joining him, and therefore he declined to fall in 
 with her proposal. Further demands were met by 
 the same answer, and at last an appeal to the 
 Sultan who is head of the Church as well as of
 
 AN "OLD MASTER" 207 
 
 the State resulted in a divorce for the principal 
 wife. 
 
 It was during, and subsequent to, these negotia- 
 tions that this lady used to honour me with a good 
 deal of her society. She always came with one or 
 more requests, and invariably backed them up with 
 the statement that, if not granted, she would leave 
 the State a contingency that she no doubt hoped 
 would fill me with dread, and, if carried into effect, 
 cover me with opprobrium. 1 If I remained inflex- 
 ible, she would hurl at me a more dire and porten- 
 tous threat, namely, that " she would be transported 
 to Bombay." I don't think she knew what, or where, 
 Bombay was ; but as she was more used to hectoring 
 than tearful appeals, this was her method of ap- 
 proaching the tyranny, which she felt was respon- 
 sible for the banishment of her husband and her own 
 fallen fortunes. We made friends at last, to such 
 an extent that, her own grievances settled, as far as 
 they were capable of settlement, she used to come 
 weekly, almost daily, as a sort of professional inter- 
 mediary, to give voice to the very bitter cries of the 
 legions of the aggrieved, who, in the East, believe 
 that there is somewhere a Fountain of Justice, with 
 whom redress is merely a matter of will. 
 1 See page 35.
 
 208 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 After an exile of over twenty years, Wan Jafar 
 returned, not to his own country that was still 
 forbidden ground but to a place within easy reach 
 of it. 
 
 It is more than likely that, in what has been 
 written, I seem to have been wandering about over 
 quite uninteresting ground, with no definite purpose. 
 I cannot help it if that is the impression conveyed. 
 I have come to the purpose now, and in the light of 
 the sequel, the details will, I trust, be accepted as 
 suitably inconsequent. 
 
 For some years before her first husband's return 
 from exile, Che Dewi had been divorced from her 
 second husband. Moreover, she had made the 
 pilgrimage to Mecca, had returned with the title of 
 Haji, and a new name, which I need not mention. 
 As soon as she heard that Wan Jafar, now an old 
 and broken man, was within a few hundred miles, 
 she hastened to meet and welcome him. The result 
 of that journey was that, in a few weeks, it was 
 known that Che Dewi had been re-married to her 
 original husband. 
 
 The news of this event was accepted with equa- 
 nimity by every one except Wan Jafar's principal 
 wife, who, in all these years, had never got over her 
 jealousy of her rival and co-partner in the affections
 
 AN "OLD MASTER" 209 
 
 of the once-powerful chief. Months passed, and 
 the lady meditated constantly on a visit to the 
 man from whom she had been so long separated, 
 but to whose position as husband she had accepted 
 no successor, though the possibility had no doubt 
 been contemplated. The knowledge that her rival 
 was re-installed kept Cleopatra away, but when 
 Wan Jafar came to visit a place within a few 
 hours' journey of his old home, she decided that 
 it was incumbent on her to go and see her former 
 husband, with whom she had never had any real 
 cause of quarrel. Accordingly, she went the last 
 of all the family to visit Wan Jafar. One who 
 was present described the meeting as strangely 
 pathetic ; she, a quite old woman, according to 
 Eastern notions, and he, a bent and infirm old 
 man, so blind that he could not see her till she 
 was in his arms. In a few days Wan Jafar 
 re-married this wife also. 
 
 The whole party then returned to Wan Jafar's 
 place of residence, where, within a few weeks, he 
 sickened and died. After his death the two 
 women rival wives and bitter enemies, divorcees, 
 re-married wives, and now joint-widows re- 
 turned together to their native country, to live in 
 the same house the closest of friends ! 
 
 O
 
 A LINE ENGRAVING 
 
 AFTER a long journey by sea and land, by 
 rail and road, I was again, for perhaps the 
 hundredth time, looking down on the Malay's earthly 
 paradise. The place recalled a crowd of incidents, 
 curious and varied enough to fill the longest day- 
 dream. But the actors were gone many buried, 
 some at the ends of the earth, others near, but out 
 of sight all were changed in a greater or less 
 degree. Only the stage was the same. 
 
 From the smooth green lawn where I stood, I 
 looked down a succession of terraces terraces con- 
 nected by a long flight of steep stone steps to a 
 great wide river. The water was shallow and clear, 
 running over a bed of sand. A picturesque village, 
 sheltered almost shut out from my sight by palms 
 and graceful evergreen trees, nestled low down on 
 the right bank. A large island, with gardens and a 
 few cottages, guarded its river front, while a smaller 
 island, grass-grown and solitary, lay farther out in
 
 A LINE ENGRAVING 211 
 
 the stream. Many boats of quaint build, some hauled 
 up on shore, others fastened to poles driven into the 
 bed of the river, broke the shore-line by the village. 
 A group of cattle, standing knee-deep in the water, 
 and here and there a long, narrow dug-out, laden 
 with passengers being ferried across the river, gave 
 life to a picture which impressed one with a sense 
 of absolute peace and restfulness. On the far bank 
 stood a great forest tree, and I remembered how 
 plainly that tree, and its reflection mirrored in the 
 water, were visible from a mountain-top distant eight 
 miles as the crow flies. For the rest, the river ran 
 straight back in a four-mile reach, narrowing gradu- 
 ally with the distance till the sheen of water disap- 
 peared in the haze of forest. Directly behind that 
 spot, a range of sapphire hills lay, barrier-like, 
 across the river's track. Right and left, two other 
 higher ranges, jungle-clad from base to summit 
 shut in the valley drained by that broad, shining 
 stream. 
 
 Miles away westward, the sun was sinking behind 
 a great limestone rock, 2000 feet high, and as the 
 shadows lengthened, the hills were swept by waves 
 of momentarily changing colour, till every feature, 
 every spur and hollow, was defined, as by opal- 
 tinted shafts thrown from a heavenly search-light.
 
 2i* THE REAL MALAY 
 
 As the light died, all colour faded into a grey same- 
 ness, and the land was shrouded in a winding-sheet 
 of river mist. The cool night wind, creeping from 
 out the jungle freshness, came rustling across the 
 stream, stirring the water into tiny wavelets, and 
 barring its surface with spaces of dancing silvery 
 light and smooth motionless shadow. Between the 
 fronds of lofty palms, infinitely graceful yet infinitely 
 sad their slightly bent heads black against the grey 
 background I saw the new moon ; a circle drawn 
 by a bow pen, charged with the essence of light, 
 and slightly pressed as it described a third of the 
 circumference. A curious effect ; for the circle was 
 undefined, except in that third, and there was no 
 apparent difference between the colour of the sky 
 within the ring and that surrounding it. It might 
 have been a sickle of pale gold, holding, cup-like, an 
 eclipsed moon ; and yet the eye could detect no out- 
 line to the eclipse, nor any variance in tone between 
 the round moon-space and its background. 
 
 The strange contrast between daylight and dark- 
 ness, between what had been a moment ago and 
 what was now, recalled a tale I had heard, and a 
 tragedy that had been enacted, years ago, on the 
 bank of this river-reach. 
 
 A British military expedition had been despatched
 
 A LINE ENGRAVING 213 
 
 to this State, at a moment's notice, and the troops 
 engaged were divided into two forces ; one sent from 
 China, operating down-river, and the other, com- 
 posed of troops from India, encamped on the very 
 hill where I stood. I myself was with the first 
 force, and, for a time, all the fighting to be got was 
 theirs. That, of course, was very annoying to the 
 later arrivals, stationed here with nothing to do but 
 gaze on this Malay paradise, which I have no doubt 
 they regarded as a very indifferent compensation 
 for their hurried despatch from India the soldier's 
 paradise. Anyhow, they beat about for some means 
 of employment, and, failing anything better, it was 
 determined to capture a noted Malay brave, one Raja 
 Abas, who was said to be in the neighbourhood. 
 This Raja Abas, native of an upland State, had 
 once been arrested for a river piracy, and lodged in 
 prison in one of the neighbouring British Settle- 
 ments. Before he could be tried, he broke out of 
 jail, killed a guard at the gate, and made good his 
 escape. That had occurred some years before, and 
 at the time of the expedition he was said to be living 
 in hiding, at a hut on the bank of the river, about 
 four miles above the British camp. 
 
 To each of the two forces composing the expedi- 
 tion were attached civil commissioners, and with
 
 *i 4 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 each was a naval brigade. So far, the fighting had 
 been down-river, and though the trees on the banks 
 of the long river-reach, seen from this hill, concealed 
 a scattered but populous village, inhabited by people 
 with a reputation for lawlessness second to none in 
 the country, they had, up to the time I write of, 
 kept out of the fray, and made no hostile demon- 
 stration. Meanwhile, the presence of Raja Abas in 
 the neighbourhood had been reported, and some 
 one, remembering his history, brought the facts to 
 the notice of the military authorities. That was 
 how matters stood when 
 
 All this flashed through my mind, and that was 
 the point at which I remembered that I might hear 
 the tale from an eye-witness. Within call, there 
 was a native who, I knew, could speak to the facts ; 
 though I also knew that his own part in the pro- 
 ceedings was not one of which to be proud. Perhaps 
 that was mainly the reason why he had never been 
 popular with the Malays of this district. However, 
 the only point of importance was, that I wanted to 
 hear the facts, and he could supply them. I sent 
 for him, and in a few minutes he arrived. 
 
 " You remember," I said, " the case of Raja Abas 
 and the other man ? " 
 
 " Certainly."
 
 A LINE ENGRAVING 215 
 
 " You had something to do with it ? " 
 
 "Why, it was I who gave the information about 
 him, and when it was determined that he should be 
 arrested, I undertook to do it myself." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You want to hear all about it ? " 
 
 "Yes, I do." 
 
 " I will tell you. I had known Raja Abas for 
 some time. We were great friends, he and I, and 
 he trusted me. He also knew two brothers, Pan- 
 jang Biru and Skola, who had a cottage up there, 
 where he often stayed. I knew them too; indeed, 
 we were all friends and comrades. When the 
 trouble came, and white soldiers occupied this hill, 
 I was employed by the civil officer, because I knew 
 every one in the neighbourhood, and could keep 
 him informed of all that was going on. That was 
 how I came to mention the fact that Raja Abas was 
 here; and, when invited to do so, I undertook to 
 arrest him. 
 
 " He was not a native of this country he was a 
 foreigner ; but he had a great reputation for valour 
 and resource, and every one said he was invulner- 
 able. For these reasons I had to be very careful 
 how I went about the business of catching him. 
 After several visits to Panjang Biru's cottage, where
 
 i6 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 Raja Abas usually lodged, I determined to get him 
 away to the house of a relation of mine for his 
 evening meal, and to put into his rice some of the 
 seed of the malikien, which would make him sick, 
 and then, with some friends I had, I thought I could 
 overpower him. Unless I could make him sick, I 
 did not see how I could take him alive ; for every 
 one said he was afraid of no one, and that he was 
 invulnerable. 
 
 " First, then, I told Panjang Biru that I was going 
 to arrest Raja Abas, and I warned him that he must 
 on no account say anything about it. I promised 
 he should come to no harm, if he did not interfere. 
 I had to tell him, so that I might get Raja Abas 
 away, and I also wanted to prevent Biru siding 
 with the Raja if it came to a struggle. I arranged 
 it with him ; but I was not so sure of his brother, a 
 hot-headed fellow, and very devoted to Raja Abas, 
 so I said nothing to him. No doubt Panjang Biru 
 warned his brother that something was in the wind, 
 but I don't think he said anything till the evening 
 when I had arranged to carry out my plan. 
 
 "Everything went as I had hoped it would, and 
 in the afternoon I met Raja Abas and the brothers 
 in Panjang Biru's cottage, and persuaded the Raja 
 to come with me to a house, nearer this way, where
 
 A LINE ENGRAVING 217 
 
 one of my relatives lived. Biru stayed at home, but 
 the brother accompanied us, and having told the 
 man who prepared our food what to do, we took the 
 evening meal. 
 
 " That stuff which makes you sick, that malikien 
 seed, is very bitter, and I think the man must have 
 put too much of it into Raja Abas's rice, for he said 
 there was something wrong, and, shortly after eating, 
 began to suffer pain, and I advised him to come 
 with me to an empty hut, hard by, where I thought 
 it would be easier to deal with him. At first he was 
 angry, and said, if he had been in any one else's 
 house he would have believed he was poisoned, and 
 known what to do; but with me, his friend, he 
 thought such treachery was impossible. At last I 
 got him away, and then left him with Skola. My 
 plan was to wait till the sickness had made him 
 weak, because he was such a valiant man I thought 
 we could not tackle him otherwise. I had arranged 
 with three or four men, friends of mine, to wait in 
 and near this empty house, and I promised to return 
 about 10 P.M., when I thought we could capture him 
 without much trouble. 
 
 " Whilst I was away, Skola told the Raja that I 
 had poisoned him, and meant to arrest him ; so he 
 got up in spite of his sickness seized his weapons
 
 zi8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 (he carried a very famous kris amongst other things), 
 and went away with Skola to Panjang Biru's cot- 
 tage. My men, who were lying in wait, saw him go ; 
 indeed, Raja Abas invited those in the hut, if they 
 thought to kill him, to come on ; but they dared not 
 do anything, because of his reputation and his kris, 
 which was said to make him invincible. 
 
 " When I returned, late at night, I found the whole 
 plan had failed, and of course there was then no chance 
 of taking Raja Abas quietly ; so I had to return here 
 and tell the white officers what had happened. 
 
 " I understood that a party would go up-river and 
 arrest Raja Abas, and it was arranged that they 
 should travel by boat, starting at night, so as to 
 reach Panjang Biru's hut at daylight. About twenty 
 blue-jackets formed the party, with an officer and 
 my master. I noticed that they took a long thick 
 rope with them, but I did not know what it was for. 
 
 " The boats went so slowly that it was broad day- 
 light long before we got to our destination, and it 
 must have been 9 A.M. when we reached Panjang 
 Biru's hut, and surrounded it. On examining the 
 place, we found it empty; but the rice for the morning 
 meal was all ready set out, and we knew that those 
 we sought could only lately have left the place. 
 
 "The cottage was near the river bank, and fresh
 
 A LINE ENGRAVING 219 
 
 footmarks led straight inland. We followed them, 
 and passing through the belt of orchards, came out 
 on the long stretch of rice-fields which lie between 
 the village and the hills. As we came into the light, 
 we saw a man walking quickly by the fence which 
 divides the kampong from the grain-land. The 
 white men asked me, and I told them it was Pan- 
 jang Biru. 
 
 " The civil officer called him, and when he came, 
 said, ' Are you the man named Panjang Biru ? ' 
 
 " He answered, ' I am he, sir.' 
 
 " ' Where are Raja Abas and your brother ? ' in- 
 quired the officer. 
 
 " 'They have gone,' replied Panjang Biru ; and he 
 added, * I can go after them and fetch them.' 
 
 " ' We cannot let you go,' said the officer ; ' you 
 are going to be hanged now.' 
 
 " ' You can send a man ' (and he named a villager) 
 ' with me, and I will try to find them,' said Panjang 
 Biru; but they said they would hang him. So, 
 having disarmed him, and tied his hands behind him, 
 the sailors marched him off to a great Bungor tree 
 the tree with violet blossoms growing all along its 
 boughs which stood in the kampong, some little 
 distance back along the road we had come. When 
 he heard he was to be hanged, Panjang Biru said,
 
 220 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 ' I have done no wrong ; but of course you can hang 
 me if you wish. I have not eaten ; let me eat first.' 
 That was all I heard before they led him away. 
 
 " I waited where I was, for I did not rightly under- 
 stand what was going to happen. Then, from afar 
 off, I saw them throw one end of the rope over a 
 great branch of the Bungor tree, and having tied 
 Panjang Biru's head-kerchief over his face, they 
 fixed the other end round his neck. There was a 
 moment's pause, and then Biru raised his head, and 
 in a loud voice cried, three times, on the name of 
 God : ' Allah ! Alla-ah ! Alla-a-ah ! ' The last time 
 exceeding loud and long drawn out, as though he 
 were giving up the ghost with one supreme effort. 
 There was a silence, and when next I looked I saw 
 Panjang Biru's body swinging from the branch of 
 the tree. 
 
 " If I had known that they really meant to hang 
 him, I would have gone to his house and got him 
 some food, for it was all ready there, and he might 
 just as well have had it. 
 
 "We walked back to the boats, and, before we 
 pushed off, some people came and asked whether 
 they might cut the body down and bury it. The 
 officers said they might have the body, and we 
 returned to the camp."
 
 A LINE ENGRAVING 221 
 
 "Had Panjang Biru done anything wrong?" 1 
 asked. 
 
 " Nothing, except that he gave shelter to Raja 
 Abas. Every one knew that Raja Abas was a bad 
 man, and I know that, while he lived here, Skola 
 was always with him, and joined him in whatever he 
 did ; but there was nothing against Panjang Biru, 
 and I don't know why they hanged him. It was 
 very hard not letting him have his breakfast, and I 
 could have got it quite easily, if they had only let me." 
 
 This set me thinking, and I remembered that, some 
 days before this happened, while I was down-river, 
 I received a letter asking me for the loan of a fast 
 shallow-draught steam launch which was in my 
 charge. I sent it, and in due time after a week or 
 ten days it returned, bringing me a note to say 
 that a force, sent up-river to disarm the village 
 opposite " the Bungor tree," had been attacked, and 
 a certain number of officers and men had been killed 
 and wounded. After reading the note, I went down 
 to the boat, which was manned by a Malay cockswain, 
 a man-of-war's engine-room artificer, and a blue- 
 jacket. I asked for particulars of the attack, and what 
 had led to it. One of the white men replied, " What 
 led to it ? Why, a day or two before, they went up- 
 river and hanged a man without ever judge or jury."
 
 zai THE REAL MALAY 
 
 L At the time I had no means of ascertaining the 
 facts. A thousand other things claimed my atten- 
 tion, and all I knew was that the village where these 
 things occurred gave, for many years after, an in- 
 finity of trouble, and it was about as much as a man's 
 life was worth to attempt an arrest there. If my 
 informant's tale were true, that was not surprising ; 
 and there was no reason to doubt him, especially as 
 he painted his own share in the proceedings in such 
 hateful colours. 
 
 My curiosity was not quite satisfied ; I had still 
 a question to ask. 
 
 " What became of Raja Abas ? " 
 
 "In the fighting which ensued between the 
 villagers and the troops, Raja Abas joined the vil- 
 lagers, and they were very glad to have him, because 
 he was so stout a fighter. Some years later he was 
 killed." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Well, as I told you, he was a bad man, with a 
 very bad reputation, and I think he was concerned 
 in some local murders. Anyhow, a famous holy 
 man, who was also a great captain, undertook to 
 bring him in, alive or dead. He did what I failed to 
 do. He sent a man to join Raja Abas and make 
 friends with him, and when the emissary had done
 
 AN ENGRAVING 123 
 
 that, and gained the Raja's confidence, he sought a 
 means of doing him to death. It was very difficult, 
 even then, because, as I told you, Raja Abas was 
 such a brave man, and they said he was invulnerable. 
 Besides, he always carried that famous kris. How- 
 ever, one day he was crossing a stream by a log 
 bridge, and the man who had undertaken the job 
 walked behind him. When Raja Abas was in the 
 middle of the log, the man took a good aim and shot 
 him in the back, shot him from close behind, and the 
 Raja fell into the stream. He was not invulnerable 
 after all, for the charge made a great hole in his back. 
 In spite of that, he climbed up the bank, and made 
 for the man, who ran away, not daring to face him. 
 Then the Raja sank down and died, and so the 
 people found him." 
 
 I was glad it was dark. The moon had set, and 
 I could see nothing but a reach of ghostly water 
 glimmering through the mist. My curiosity had 
 been gratified, and I must now pay the penalty ; for 
 whenever I stand here, and the sunlight streams 
 over forest and river, I shall see that body, the face 
 swathed in the kerchief, swinging from the violet 
 blossomed bough, and hear that last despairing cry 
 to the God of Justice and Mercy.
 
 A SILHOUETTE 
 
 A MONGST Malays of the Peninsula, the most 
 *> picturesque figure is that of the Famous 
 Seyyid. He has come to see me, and as he stands 
 in the semi-darkness of this lofty room, with its 
 dead-white walls and the subdued light of a shaded 
 lamp centred on him, I am almost led to question 
 his reality. The stillness is so absolute, the shadows 
 so deep, yet vague, while the outlines of face and 
 form are so strong, the colours so rich and har- 
 monious, that the man might be imagination mate- 
 rialised, the embodiment of an Eastern dream. That 
 word explains the seeming unreality. Figure and 
 surroundings of the East Eastern, the Famous Seyyid 
 is the very type of a strange people ; the picture 
 exactly in harmony with its frame. 
 
 Outside, an all but full moon rides high in a cloud- 
 veiled sky. The clouds would be white, only that 
 there is a haze which tinges all the light with blue. 
 The country is very broken ; hill and vale, stretches 
 
 824
 
 A SILHOUETTE 225 
 
 of jungle and undulating slopes of grass, with clumps 
 of trees and isolated forest giants dotted about at 
 uncertain intervals. In a long valley is a lake of 
 shining water. But it is all vague, soft, and myste- 
 rious. The woods and the grass are grey with an 
 underlying green, and the atmosphere is grey as 
 well as blue. The water is a still and level surface 
 of dark glass. 
 
 Through the wide-open doorways come visions 
 of the moonlit country, and these white-framed 
 pictures contrast strangely with the warm glow of 
 the room and the fascinating figure of the Famous 
 Seyyid. 
 
 He is a man of sixty-two ; tall and straight, with 
 a face so striking that it would attract attention 
 anywhere. His forehead is wide and high, his 
 dark eyes rather far apart, with drooping lids that 
 it seems almost an effort to raise. His nose is 
 aquiline and rather long, and his mouth is hidden 
 by a long and heavy grey moustache. The jaw is 
 massive and the chin square. The eyebrows black, 
 curved, and distinctly marked ; while the hair is short 
 and grey. He has a clear yellow complexion, and, in 
 spite of his age, there is hardly a line on his face. 
 
 The drooping eyelids and hooked nose, the dark 
 eyebrows, grey almost white moustache, with
 
 226 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 ends curved upwards, and the massive jaw and chin, 
 are very remarkable. The elaborately quiet manner 
 of the man, the studied slowness of his ordinary 
 movements, and his voice so soft and low, it is an 
 effort to catch his words accentuate the strong 
 features of his face and fascinate the spectator, as 
 certain snakes are said to fascinate their victims. 
 Only, with the Famous Seyyid, the eyes attract 
 attention by the little there is to see of them. 
 
 His dress is scarcely less striking. A kerchief of 
 some thin black material, stiffened with a jungle 
 varnish which gives to the outer side a glossy sur- 
 face, is tied into a fantastic yet becoming head-dress. 
 The cloth is folded closely round the brow and over 
 the scalp, but two of the corners, overlapping, stand 
 up in a point, about ten inches high, on the left side 
 of the head, and balance the thick fold of the kerchief 
 which rests on the right ear. The cloth is hemmed 
 with a chain stitch, in white, all round its edges, and 
 these edges are made to show with great effect, 
 especially in the upstanding corners. On the glossy 
 side of this jet-black head-covering is painted, in 
 gold leaf, a deep border of scroll-work, and dotted 
 about, within the border, are conventional flowers, 
 also in gold. The effect is novel, becoming, and 
 striking in an unusual degree. Over a shirt of
 
 A SILHOUETTE 227 
 
 soft, rich, yellow satin the Seyyid wears a jacket 
 of Malay-red silk dull of surface, but of strange 
 rich colour into which is woven a design which 
 resembles small chariot wheels in gold thread. The 
 jacket has an upright collar of the same material, is 
 fastened by one gold button at the throat, and dis- 
 closes a narrow gleam of the satin undershirt. The 
 sleeves are tight at the wrist, slashed, and fastened 
 by a long row of gold buttons. The costume is 
 completed by trousers of dead-black silk, the lower 
 eighteen inches interwoven with a quaint design in 
 silver thread. The trousers are made almost tight 
 round the ankles, while a gorgeous silk sarong^ or 
 skirt, hangs in graceful folds from the waist to the 
 knees. The sarong itself is a thing of beauty, the 
 finest work of the famed Trengganu looms. The 
 prevailing colours are soft tones of cunningly-blended 
 heliotrope and green, lined by faint gleams of gold 
 thread; but a wide length of Malay-red, ablaze 
 with gold, crosses the darker folds in flashes of 
 splendour. 
 
 He is a man of war, this Seyyid, and was one of 
 the most famous of the Malay fighting-chiefs in the 
 days that are no more. The stories of his prowess, 
 of his cunning, of his wickedness, are many, and 
 strange, and ghastly. He has enemies, and it is
 
 i8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 charitable to suppose that he has been maligned. 
 There is no need to refer to such tales here. He 
 has been a soldier of fortune, and he would be so 
 again. He does not pretend to many virtues, or any 
 accomplishments outside his profession as a captain 
 of men. 
 
 When I see him, we talk of war as it is under- 
 stood in Malaya and on that subject he can speak 
 with experience. This evening is no exception to 
 the rule, and he has related many curious experiences. 
 
 " It is very annoying," he remarks at last ; " you 
 know what Malays are; and as I walk in the 
 streets, men nudge each other and say, ' That is 
 the Famous Seyyid,' and they huddle together like 
 cowering curs, which always fall over each other in 
 their anxiety to reach a safe place. Of course there 
 is nothing to do now, and while the white men, the 
 officers of Government, talk nicely to me, they are 
 always suggesting that I should go away to some 
 other country. I am old, and I have no desire to go 
 elsewhere, and when the Government wanted help 
 they found me useful. You know that, for we are 
 old friends, and we have done the Government work 
 together." 
 
 I remind him that once, before those ancient days, 
 he had, by his own statement to me, only waited for
 
 A SILHOUETTE 229 
 
 a signal to fall upon a considerable party of Euro- 
 peans, amongst whom my death was, perhaps, the 
 one most keenly desired. 
 
 The Seyyid will not discuss such an unprofitable 
 subject. He dismisses it with a reproachful glance, 
 a little deprecatory movement of his hand, and the 
 remark, " But the signal was never given ! " 
 
 It was unkind to recall this incident, and possibly 
 a trifle malicious, so I ask, " Is there some title you 
 would like ? " 
 
 "Ah, yes," he answers, "there is; but then, I 
 must not forget my old friends in arms, the men who 
 fought with me long ago. I would not have any- 
 thing which rightly belongs to one of them." 
 
 The Seyyid recently passed the fasting month 
 with the Sultan of Perak, who invited my attention 
 to the fact that " his brother, the Seyyid," had 
 become very devout, and never missed a prayer. 
 This craving for holy things and the better life is a 
 very encouraging sign ; and the Famous Seyyid is, 
 perhaps, not the first sinner who has turned to 
 religion for excitement when he found the world 
 slipping away from him. But in his case, at any 
 rate, the old Adam is hardly scotched, for, the con- 
 versation having turned to his recent visit, he says : 
 " I asked the Sultan of Perak whether he was friend
 
 230 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 or foe to the State of Paiten, because I thought he 
 could not care for the Raja of that place, and I offered 
 to go and take it for him, if he wanted it." 
 
 " How did you mean to do it ? " I ask. 
 
 " Oh ! " he says, " I should go there with four or 
 five people and make friends with the Paiten folk 
 fight cocks, and gamble with them, and play at 
 anything they like and all the time my people 
 would be coming in, by twos and threes, and fours 
 and fives, and working towards the Raja's place, 
 where I should be. And when it was time ." 
 
 Then, for an instant, his drooping eyelids rise 
 a fraction of an inch ; he glances at me, and they 
 fall again. 
 
 " Mgng-amok ? " I suggest. 
 
 He does not answer ; but a very slow smile wanders 
 round the corners of his mouth, and, as his face 
 turns towards the ghostly pictures seen through 
 the open doorways, it seems to be instinct with the 
 vision of that sudden and furious night attack in 
 far Paiten. 
 
 "It would not be difficult," I say; "but Leng- 
 gang" naming another State "would be better 
 worth having." 
 
 " Ah ! " he answers, " I could not do that, it is a 
 very populous country ; but with quite a few men I
 
 A SILHOUETTE 
 
 231 
 
 could take Paiten, and there would be some loot. 
 You see I must think of that. I am a poor man, 
 and if I could get some loot, I should like to go to 
 Mecca." 
 
 "You have been writing while I have talked," 
 says the Seyyid ; " may I ask what you have written 
 about ? " 
 
 " I have been trying to make a silhouette of you." 
 
 " What is a silhouette ? " 
 
 "Roughly speaking, it is a profile portrait, in 
 black, on a white background." 
 
 " But where have you done this ? " 
 
 " Here," I say, showing him the paper on which 
 I am writing ; "and you see, I have only used black 
 and white." 
 
 " Ah ! " he says, " I understand ; it is the black 
 and the white of me. Do not make it too black. 
 A silhouette can only be true in outline." 
 
 "Very well," I reply; "I will put in the colours."
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 
 
 IN the volume entitled " Malay Sketches," pub- 
 lished in 1895, I referred to the homicidal mania 
 which drives men of the Malay race to a form of 
 blind, reasonless murder, termed dmok on account 
 of the suddenness and fury with which the attack 
 is delivered Some interest has been aroused in 
 the minds of readers, and inquiries have been made 
 as to the cause of this special form of madness, If 
 that is a term which can properly be applied to 
 what seems to be a suddenly-awakened passion for 
 indiscriminate slaughter. 
 
 I have collected some further particulars on the 
 subject, and now offer them to the reader, who will, 
 doubtless, draw his own conclusions. 
 
 Mr. John Crawfurd, a well-known writer on 
 the Malay language, gave a lecture on Oriental 
 words adopted in English, before the British 
 Association at Birmingham, in the autumn of 
 1849, and in December of that year published a 
 
 3*
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 233 
 
 paper from which I have taken the following ver- 
 batim extract : 
 
 " (Muck, a-mucK) Malay, amuk. The ' a ' which 
 precedes it in English is not the English indefinite 
 article, but part of the word itself, and should be 
 joined to it. There is no such word in Malay as 
 muk, and still less the word written with a super- 
 fluous ' c.' Amuk (the ' k ' at the end is mute) is 
 the radical, and means a desperate and furious 
 charge, or onset, either of an individual or body of 
 men. From this we have such derivatives as the 
 following Mangamuk, to make a furious charge, 
 or assault; Mngamukk&n, to charge some object 
 furiously; Baramuk-amukan, to charge furiously 
 and mutually; PAngamuk, one that makes a furious 
 charge. When the English infantry charged with 
 the bayonet at Waterloo, a Malay might with pro- 
 priety say the English ran a-muck ; when the 
 French charged over the bridge of Lodi, he might 
 say the same thing. Marshal Lannes would be 
 considered by a Malay as an illustrious Pangamuk, 
 and Sir Thomas Picton another. Dr. Johnson says 
 he 'knows not from what derivation is made to 
 mean to run madly, and attack all we meet.' He 
 might, however, have discovered it, if he had read 
 Dampier as carefully as Swift, who is said to have
 
 234 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 made his style the model of some part of his Gulli- 
 ver's Travels. The Rev. Mr. Todd, in his edition 
 of the Dictionary, has a long explanation of small 
 value, running over nearly a whole quarto column. 
 His chief authority is Tavernier, whose account is 
 full of mistakes. In one place he writes the word 
 Mocca, and in another Moqua. He states the kris, 
 with which the muck is run, to be poisoned, which 
 I never heard to be the case. He says it is the 
 Muhammadans, on their return from the pilgrimage 
 to Mecca, who run a-muck ; but the natives of the 
 Eastern islands ran a-muck before they ever heard 
 of the Muhammadan religion, and the unconverted 
 natives at the present day equally run a-muck with 
 the converted. The Rev. Mr. Pegg is next quoted 
 by Mr. Todd out of the ' Gentleman's Magazine,' and 
 Mr. Pegg charges the practice to excess in cock- 
 fighting, and the loss of property, including wife 
 and children. When this crisis arrives, the loser, 
 according to Mr. Pegg, begins to chew a root, what 
 is called bang, which the reverend gentleman takes to 
 be the same thing as opium, and it is after that that 
 he runs a-muck. This is all a fable, and the great 
 probability is that no such case as that stated by 
 the reverend gentleman ever occurred. The truth 
 is, that running a-muck is the result of a sudden and
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 235 
 
 violent emotion, wholly unpremeditated. There is, 
 therefore, no poisoning of daggers, no swallowing of 
 opium, which instead of rousing would set the party 
 asleep, and no eating of bang, which was unknown 
 to the islanders at the time in which Mr. Pegg wrote. 
 Moreover, bang and opium are not the same thing, 
 for the first is the produce of the common hemp- 
 plant, and the last of the white poppy. Finally, 
 Mr. Todd quotes a note of Malone to the prose 
 works of Dryden, in which he asserts that the word 
 a-muck, written as one word, is an adverb, equiva- 
 lent to ' killing,' which is even more wide of accu- 
 racy than the account of Mr. Pegg himself, and his 
 other authority, Tavernier. Warton, in a note to 
 Pope, repeats the same mistake about gaming, and 
 smoking opium, before running a-muck. Sir Walter 
 Scott's note in his edition of Dryden is little more 
 than a repetition of Malone's. He speaks of the loss 
 by gaming, of the intoxication with opium, and says 
 that ' Amocco ' means ' to kill.' ' He is, at last,' he 
 says, ' cut down, or shot like a mad dog,' which is 
 true. Of a very different character from the gossip 
 of Tavernier and the rest, is the account given of 
 the dmok by Dr. Oxley in this journal. I had not 
 the advantage of having perused it, when I read my 
 paper at Birmingham, or I should have quoted its
 
 236 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 intelligent and authentic statement at length. The 
 Amok appears from it to be in many cases mere 
 instances of monomania, taking this mischievous 
 form, and, when they are not so, they are traced by 
 the writer to the true character of the islanders. 
 One fact stated in it I was not before aware of, that 
 the amok is most frequent among the Bugis. This 
 is also the case in Java, but then it has been ascribed 
 there to the ill-usage of this people in a state of 
 slavery. I should conceive that of all the islanders, 
 it would be found the least frequent among the 
 Javanese. Instances of it did certainly occur during 
 my six years' residence in that island, but they 
 were by no means frequent. Amongst the Javanese 
 of Singapore, it is probable that in thirty years no 
 example has occurred. Dryden first made the word 
 classic by using it in the third part of ' The Hind and 
 Panther,' the application being to Bishop Burnet 
 
 ' Prompt to assail, and careless of defence 
 Invulnerable in his impudence, 
 He dares the world, and eager of a name 
 He thrusts about and jostles into fame, 
 Frontless, and satire-proof, he scours the streets 
 And runs an Indian muck at all he meets.' 
 
 " Pope followed him in the well-known lines, 
 which are evidently an imitation :
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 237 
 
 ' Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet 
 To run a-muck and tilt at all I meet, 
 I only wear it in a land of Hectors, 
 Thieves, supercargoes, sharpers, and directors.' 
 
 " The directors here referred to are those of the 
 famous South-Sea Bubble, and the supercargoes 
 probably the agents of the East India Company." 
 
 Dr. Oxley was a Government surgeon in Singa- 
 pore, and the account to which Mr. Crawfurd re- 
 ferred was published in an official medical report on 
 Singapore. Here it is : 
 
 "The character of the unsophisticated Malay is 
 remarkable for its simplicity and honesty. Having 
 no artificial wants, they are satisfied and content 
 with what would be considered positive destitution 
 by a Chinese ; they are consequently apathetic and 
 inactive, and will not, for any amount offered to them, 
 labour beyond their usual habits or customary 
 routine ; they have little, if any, speculative turn ; 
 they have a regard for truth, and may generally be 
 depended upon in their statements. What has so 
 often been written of their revengeful spirit is much 
 exaggerated; polite in the extreme according to 
 their own ideas, they never indulge in abuse one 
 towards the other, the only reply to any deviation 
 from this rule is the kris } for which they will watch
 
 238 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 their opportunity, and most certainly not afford their 
 adversary any advantage it is in their power to 
 deprive him of. This is their code of honour, and 
 being fully aware of it amongst themselves, provo- 
 cation is seldom given, and satisfaction as seldom 
 required. When goaded, however, to the necessity, 
 they become perfectly reckless, and should discovery 
 attend the deed, they attempt no refutation, but sell 
 their lives at the utmost cost they can to the captors. 
 Too often have I known the officers of police com- 
 pelled to shoot them on these occasions. Such is 
 one species of Amok ; and how offenders of this 
 description are to be dealt with, can admit of but 
 little doubt; but there is another variety of the 
 ' Orang Beramok ' vastly different, and by no means 
 the least frequent, which requires discrimination on 
 the part of the medical jurist, to prevent irrespon- 
 sible persons suffering the penalty of the injured 
 law. For instance, a man sitting quietly amongst 
 his friends and relatives will, without provocation, 
 suddenly start up, weapon in hand, and slay all 
 within his reach. I have known so many as eight 
 killed and wounded by a very feeble individual in 
 this manner. Next day, when interrogated whether 
 he was not sorry for the act he had committed, no one 
 could be more contrite. When asked, ' Why, then,
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 239 
 
 did you do it ? ' the answer has invariably been, ' The 
 devil entered into me ; my eyes were darkened, I did 
 not know what I was about.' I have received this 
 same reply on at least twenty different occasions. 
 On examination of these monomaniacs, I have gene- 
 rally found them labouring under some gastric disease 
 or troublesome ulcer, and these fearful ebullitions 
 break out upon some exacerbation of the disorder. 
 Those about them have generally told me that they 
 appeared moping and melancholy a few days before 
 the outbreak. It is certainly much to be deplored 
 that monomania amongst the Malays almost invari- 
 ably takes this terrible form. The Bugis, whether 
 from revenge or disease, are by far the most addicted 
 to the Amok. I should think three-fourths of all 
 the cases I have seen have been by persons of this 
 nation." 
 
 Both these gentlemen were by their experience 
 entitled to speak on this subject, and so far as I can 
 see, there is little to criticise in their statements. 
 The Bugis (that is the name by which the natives of 
 the Celebes are known) are no doubt prone to the 
 habit of meng-dmok, and I should have said that the 
 Javanese are as likely to give way to it as the Malays 
 of the Peninsula. Both the Bugis and the Javanese 
 are of a more sombre, brooding, and revengeful tern-
 
 2 4 o THE REAL MALAY 
 
 perament than the Malays. On the 8th July 1846, 
 Sunan, a respectable Malay house-builder in Penang, 
 ran dmok in the heart of the town, and " before he 
 was arrested, killed an old Hindu woman, a Kling, a 
 Chinese boy, and a Kling girl about three years old, 
 in the arms of its father, and wounded two Hindus, 
 three Klings, and two Chinese, of whom only two 
 survived. On his trial it appeared that he was 
 greatly afflicted by the recent loss of his wife and 
 child, which preyed upon his mind, and quite altered 
 his appearance. A person with whom he had lived 
 up to the 1 5th of June said further, ' He used to 
 bring his child to his work ; since its death he has 
 worked for me. He often said he could not work, as 
 he was afflicted by the loss of his child. I think he 
 was out of his mind ; he did not smoke or drink I 
 think he was mad.' On the morning of the dmok 
 this person met him, and asked him to work at his 
 boat. ' He replied that he could not, he was very 
 much afflicted.' ' He had his hands concealed under 
 his cloth ; he frequently exclaimed, Allah ! Allah ! ' 
 ' He daily complained of the loss of his wife and 
 child.' On the trial Sunan declared he did not know 
 what he was about, and persisted in this at the place 
 of execution, adding, ' As the gentlemen say I have 
 committed so many murders, I suppose it must be so.'
 
 The dmok took place on the 8th, the trial on the I3th, 
 and the execution on the I5th July all within eight 
 days." 
 
 The murderer was tried before the Recorder of 
 Pinang, Sir William Norris, and in passing sentence 
 on the prisoner, the judge made these remarks : 
 
 " Sunan, you stand convicted on the clearest evi- 
 dence of the wilful murder of Pakir Sah on Wednes- 
 day last, and it appears that on the same occasion you 
 stabbed no less than ten other unfortunate persons, 
 only two of whom are at present surviving. It now 
 becomes my duty to pass upon you the last sentence 
 of the law. I can scarcely call it a painful duty, for 
 the blood of your innocent victims cries aloud for 
 vengeance, and both justice and humanity would be 
 shocked were you permitted to escape the infamy of 
 a public execution. God Almighty alone, the great 
 ' searcher of hearts,' can tell precisely what passed 
 in that wretched heart of yours before and at the 
 time when you committed these atrocious deeds ; nor 
 is it necessary for the ends of justice that we should 
 perfectly comprehend the morbid views and turbulent 
 passions by which you must have been actuated. It 
 is enough for us to know that you, like all other 
 murderers, ' had not the fear of God before your 
 eyes,' and that you acted of ' malice aforethought 
 
 Q
 
 24* THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and by the instigation of the devil ' himself, who was 
 ' a murderer from the beginning.' But all the atro- 
 cities you have committed are of a peculiar character, 
 and such as are never perpetrated by Christians, 
 Hindoos, Chinese, or any other class than Muham- 
 madans, especially Malays, among whom they are 
 frightfully common, and may therefore be justly 
 branded by way of infamous distinction as Muham- 
 madan murders. I think it right, therefore, seeing 
 so great a concourse of Muhammadans in and about 
 the Court, to take this opportunity of endeavouring 
 to disabuse their minds and your own of any false 
 notions of courage, heroism, or self-devotion which 
 Muhammadans possibly, but Muhammadans alone of 
 all mankind, can ever attach to such base, cowardly, 
 and brutal murders; notions which none but the 
 devil himself, 'the father of lies,' could ever have 
 inspired. But if such false, execrable, and danger- 
 ous delusions really are entertained by any man or 
 body of men whatever, it may be as well to show 
 from the gloomy workings of your mind, so far as 
 circumstances have revealed them, that not a particle 
 of manly courage or heroism could have animated 
 you, or can ever animate any man who lifts his 
 cowardly hand against helpless women and children. 
 You had lately, it seems, been greatly afflicted by
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 243 
 
 the sudden deaths of your wife and only child, and 
 God forbid that I should needlessly harrow up your 
 feelings by reverting to the subject. I do so merely 
 because it serves in some degree to explain the 
 dreadful tragedy for which you are now about to 
 answer with your life. Unable or unwilling to 
 submit with patience to the affliction with which it 
 had pleased God to visit you, you abandoned yourself 
 to discontent and despair, until shortly before the 
 bloody transaction, when you went to the mosque to 
 pray! ! to pray to whom, or to what? Not to sense- 
 less idols of wood or stone which Christians and 
 Muhammadans equally abominate but to the one 
 omniscient, almighty, and all-merciful God, in whom 
 alone Christians and Muhammadans profess to be- 
 lieve ! But in what spirit did you pray, if you prayed 
 at all ? Did you pray for resignation, or ability to 
 ' humble yourself under the mighty hand of God ' ? 
 Impossible. You may have gone to curse in your 
 heart and gnash with your teeth, but certainly not 
 to pray, whatever unmeaning sentences of the Koran 
 may have issued from your lips. Doubtless you 
 entered the mosque with a heart full of haughty 
 pride, anger, and rebellion against your Maker, and 
 no wonder that you sallied forth again overflowing 
 with hatred and malice against your innocent fellow-
 
 244 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 creatures; no wonder that, when thus abandoned to 
 the devil, you stabbed with equal cruelty, cowardice, 
 and ferocity unarmed and helpless men, women, and 
 children, who had never injured, never known, pro- 
 bably never seen you before. 
 
 " Such are the murders which Muhammadans 
 alone have been found capable of committing. Not 
 that I mean to brand Muhammadans in general as 
 worse than all other men, far from it ; I believe there 
 are many good men among them as good as men 
 can be who are ignorant of the only true religion. 
 I merely state the fact that such atrocities disgrace 
 no other creed, let the Muhammadans account for 
 the fact as they may. But whatever may be the true 
 explanation whether these fiendish excesses are the 
 result of fanaticism, superstition, over- weening pride, 
 or ungovernable rage, or, which is probable, of all 
 combined, public justice demands that the perpe- 
 trators should be visited with the severest and most 
 disgraceful punishment which the law can inflict. 
 
 " The sentence of the Court therefore is, that you, 
 Sunan, be remanded to the place from whence you 
 came, and that on the morning of Wednesday next 
 you be drawn from thence on a hurdle to the place 
 of execution, and there hanged by the neck until you 
 are dead. Your body will then be handed over to
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 245 
 
 the surgeons for dissection, and your mangled limbs, 
 instead of being restored to your friends for decent 
 interment, will be cast into the sea, thrown into a 
 ditch, or scattered on the earth at the discretion of 
 the sheriff. And may God Almighty have mercy on 
 your miserable soul ! " 
 
 That judgment was delivered more than half a 
 century ago; but it is consoling to think that it 
 drew a dignified protest from Mr. James Richardson 
 Logan, a distinguished ethnologist and writer, who 
 knew the people of the Archipelago better than any 
 one of his time. Mr. Logan urged the Government 
 to suppress the piracy then rampant in Malay waters, 
 to organise a strong police force and afford real 
 protection to its subjects, and then to deprive the 
 Malays of the weapons they were obliged to carry 
 for their own defence. He also appealed to all 
 intelligent people to publish the results of their 
 observations on the tendency of Malays to m&ng- 
 amok, which he described as a " deeply interesting 
 subject." For himself he wrote : 
 
 "These Amoks result from an idiosyncracy or 
 peculiar temperament common amongst Malays, a 
 temperament which all who have had much inter- 
 course with them must have observed, although they 
 cannot account for or thoroughly understand. It
 
 246 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 consists in a proneness to chronic disease of feeling, 
 resulting from a want of moral elasticity, which 
 leaves the mind a prey to the pain of grief, until it 
 is filled with a malignant gloom and despair, and the 
 whole horizon of existence is overcast with black- 
 ness. If the reader thinks we have sketched the 
 progress of a monomania, we answer that the great 
 majority of peng-dmoks are monomaniacs. Whatever 
 name we give the mental condition in which they 
 are, and whatever our views of their responsibility 
 for their acts, it is clear that such a condition of 
 mind is inconsistent with a regard for consequences. 
 The pleasures of life have no attractions, and its 
 pains no dread, for a man reduced to the gloomy 
 despair and inward rage of the pengamo'. A 
 government cannot medicine a mind diseased, but 
 it can confine the evil to the sufferer himself. The 
 Malay, compelled from boyhood to trust to his kris 
 for the protection of his person and his honour, 
 considers it as a part of his existence. A state of 
 society which requires every individual to be ready 
 at any time to use his kris is quite inconsistent 
 with a horror of shedding blood." 
 
 The Malays have been disarmed ; but if that be 
 a preventive of the disease, it certainly is not a cure. 
 Nothing is easier than to obtain a weapon of some
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 247 
 
 sort, whenever it is really wanted, and as many 
 murders are committed, in this part of the world, 
 with a chopping-knife as with anything else. Only 
 the other day I read, in a local newspaper, the fol- 
 lowing account of an dmok in Perak. It is as bad 
 a case as can well be imagined : 
 
 " Particulars of the Bhota dmok case are just to 
 hand, and, as will be seen, they are very gruesome. 
 We are sorry to say the murderer still remains at 
 large, but this is not due to any want of endeavour 
 on the part of the police to capture him. District 
 Inspector McKeon, of Kuala Kangsar, has relieved 
 Mr. Conway in the hunt for this murderous brute, 
 and we hope soon to hear of his capture, if he is 
 not shot down like a dog, as he deserves to be. 
 The man's name is Ngah Gafur, and he is between 
 thirty-five and forty years old. He had not been 
 living on good terms with his wife for a year past, 
 and the latter, we believe, had been contemplating a 
 divorce. This news, apparently, has caused the man 
 to go off his head, and commit the horrible butchery 
 of his own flesh and blood. It appears on the after- 
 noon of the 1 4th instant he left his house, where he 
 has been living by himself, and went to his mother- 
 in-law's, whence he removed his two children, both 
 boys, aged seven and four, and took them to the
 
 248 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 house occupied by his wife close by. There a dis- 
 pute took place between the husband and wife as to 
 the future custody of the poor things, and it ended 
 in the man seizing hold of one after another and 
 cutting them down most ruthlessly; he then went 
 for his wife, and, before the unfortunate creature 
 could realise what had happened, despatched her 
 after her children. The mother-in-law, who ran up 
 to the assistance of her daughter, however, escaped 
 with a deep cut on her shoulder ; whilst the grand- 
 mother-in-law, a poor ancient dame, who heedlessly 
 rushed shrieking to the scene, as fast as her tottering 
 legs could convey her, was silenced for ever with 
 two deep gashes on her neck. The blood he had 
 already shed appears to have given the dmoker only 
 zest to spill more, and his next victim was his 
 unhappy sister-in-law, a young girl of about nine 
 years or so. Having thus disposed of his relations, 
 he returned to his neighbours, attacking a poor lone 
 woman, and fatally stabbing her with a spear, he 
 inflicted no less than six wounds on different parts 
 of the body of this woman. He then proceeded 
 towards Tronok, and at about a mile and a half 
 from the scene of his first murders, and close to the 
 Tronok footpath, he came upon an old man, who 
 had taken up his residence in a solitary hut in the
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 249 
 
 jungle, to gather the produce of a few durian trees 
 he owned there, and murdered him by stabbing 
 him in the back, and he then burnt down the hut. 
 He also set fire to the house in which his wife was 
 living. Gafur then, as reported in our last issue, 
 took to the wilds, and has, as stated above, so far 
 eluded a party of the police, at first headed by the 
 Assistant-Commissioner and Inspector Conway, and 
 now under charge of Mr. McKeon. He has, how- 
 ever, since burnt down two more houses, and 
 severely wounded one of the Dyak constables now 
 scouring the country for him. One of these asserts 
 he had a passing sight of him at about five hundred 
 yards, and this proves that the police are gaining 
 upon him, and that he will soon be cornered." 
 
 My friend the Sultan of Perak has recently sug- 
 gested the most intelligent explanation of the dmok 
 that I have yet heard. His Highness points out 
 that Malays have never been accustomed to take 
 any particular notice of people mentally affected, 
 unless they became so violent, or so indecent in 
 their conduct, that it was necessary to confine them. 
 Then they were usually shut up in some isolated 
 hut, where food was passed in to them, and they 
 were left there till death put an end to their miser- 
 able existences. Such cases were extremely rare,
 
 z 5 o THE REAL MALAY 
 
 even in the days of Malay government. But there 
 must be, in any Malay State, a certain number of 
 people who, if they were carefully watched and 
 examined by capable medical men, would no doubt 
 be accounted lunatics and put under restraint. The 
 Sultan expresses his belief that the amok runners 
 invariably come from this class, that they are 
 afflicted with melancholia, and suddenly develop 
 homicidal tendencies; and that, in any western 
 country, their symptoms would have induced their 
 relatives to put them under professional control for 
 their own and the public safety. 
 
 Knowing the reluctance of Malays to consult 
 European medical men, to submit themselves to 
 European treatment, or follow any prescribed regime, 
 it is hardly surprising that they say as little as 
 possible about cases of suspected mania, where 
 those afflicted are their own relatives. It is, there- 
 fore, easy to understand that if a Malay shows signs 
 of mental derangement, and the relatives realise 
 their meaning, if there is also a family history point- 
 ing to hereditary insanity, it is extremely unlikely 
 that anything will be said or done to lead to an 
 inquiry by any European. The disease, therefore, 
 has time to develop until, on a day, some straw 
 turns the scale, and a madman, armed, irresponsible,
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 251 
 
 reckless, and hungry to kill, is let loose on the com- 
 munity. 
 
 In support of this theory it would be possible to 
 cite a great many cases. I will only take one, which 
 occurred in Perak last year, and I quote it because 
 no one was killed the man who made the attack 
 not losing entire control over himself and because 
 some evidence was given by the parents of the p<*ng- 
 dmok, which would not have been available had they 
 been done to death. Briefly, a grown-up son, living 
 with his parents, had a dispute with his father about 
 a matter of no great importance, and went into 
 another room. The mother and a grandchild ran 
 out of the house. Shortly after, the son returned, 
 and, without the slightest warning, struck his father 
 three severe blows on the head, neck, and shoulder, 
 with a small chopper. Then, leaving the old man 
 lying in his blood, the son went to a police station 
 close by and complained that his father had taken 
 his money and he had struck him. When it was 
 suggested that the father might be dead, the son 
 said, " Perhaps he is ; I don't know." 
 
 At the trial the father said, in cross-examination : 
 "The prisoner has been subject at times to fits of 
 talking nonsense, when the moon is increasing to 
 the full. These fits have not been so frequent of
 
 25* THE REAL MALAY 
 
 late, but he had one about eight days before he 
 attacked me. When he is seized with one of these 
 fits, he will declare, while eating his rice, that he has 
 no rice. He will also say that the house we are 
 living in is his own, and that he will not allow any 
 one but himself to live in it. He has never been in 
 this frame of mind for more than one day in one 
 month. Two days before he attacked me, he told 
 me that I had over a hundred dollars of his in my 
 possession, and that I had better leave the house. 
 When he said this, I supposed it to be the result of 
 unsoundness of mind, and paid no attention to it. 
 I have no money of his in my possession." 
 
 In reply to the prisoner, his father said, " Yes, it 
 is a fact that I and my wife and a man, about three 
 years ago, tied you up and put you in stocks for 
 about a month." And to the Court, "We put him 
 in stocks because we were afraid he was going 
 mad ; we gave him medicine. . . . The prisoner has 
 not been under any restraint since he was put in 
 the stocks three or four years ago." The mother, 
 after describing the quarrel, and how she and her 
 grandchild ran out of the house in their fear, stated 
 that she saw the attack, and called for help, when 
 the prisoner at once ran away. She said she was 
 frightened, because she heard the prisoner talking
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 253 
 
 to himself in another room, and, in reply to the 
 Court, continued, " I remember that three or four 
 years ago the prisoner was put in the stocks by his 
 father and a friend, who said that he was deranged, 
 and undertook to give him medicine. . . . The 
 prisoner has often abused me and his father before. 
 He has struck and pushed me. He generally 
 behaves like that once when the moon is increasing 
 to the full, and once when it is on the wane." 
 
 In his judgment, delivered in 1846, Sir William 
 Norris described the amok as " frightfully common " 
 amongst Malays, and no doubt he referred to the only 
 Malays he knew, those in the Straits Settlements. 
 For many years such attacks have been exceedingly 
 rare there ; perhaps not more than three real cases in 
 the last fifteen years. The Malay population has in- 
 creased year by year, and yet, from being " frightfully 
 common " fifty years ago (a statement which is 
 certainly supported by Mr. Crawfurd and Mr. Logan), 
 the Amok in the colony has almost ceased. A 
 simple explanation is that, with hospitals, lunatic 
 asylums, and a certain familiarity with European 
 methods of treatment, the signs of insanity are 
 better understood, and those who show them are put 
 under restraint before they do serious damage. 
 
 If the asylums of Europe and America were closed,
 
 z$4 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and the inmates returned to their relatives, it is more 
 than probable that cases of what the Malay calls 
 dmok, would not be confined to natives of the 
 Peninsula and the islands of the Archipelago. 
 
 It will naturally be asked why men in other 
 eastern countries in China and Japan, for instance 
 do not mPng-dmok under the influence of mania or 
 passion. I think the answer is that the people are 
 of a different temperament from the Malays, and the 
 dmok is an ancient practice in Malaya. The Japanese 
 have their own peculiar method of suicide, and the 
 Chinese, seeking death as a means to reincarnation, 
 travel by the shortest road, without wasting time to 
 slaughter by the way. 
 
 For myself, if I venture to offer an opinion, it is 
 simply the result of observation and inquiry. I 
 believe that about sixty per cent, of the Malays who 
 m&ng-dmok are mentally diseased, usually from in- 
 herited causes. Of the rest, what happens is this : 
 some serious trouble overtakes a man, serious to 
 him that is. He is insulted by a man, jealous of, 
 scorned or rejected by, a woman and the times are 
 out of joint. He broods over his trouble and says, 
 " I shan't be able to put up with this, I must m2ng- 
 dmokr 
 
 This course suggests itself because it is the fashion,
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 255 
 
 because he knows that when Malays are hard hit, as 
 he is, this is what they do. He thinks this is the 
 only dignified way of getting out of his trouble, the 
 only course sanctioned by ancient custom. There 
 will be a good deal of talk about him and his deeds, 
 and, if he does something very desperate, there will 
 be the approval of the boastful swaggerers, who will 
 speak of him with respect. 
 
 Therefore he hugs his real, or fancied, wrong, till 
 the idea^of m2ng-dmok becomes une idte fixe, domi- 
 nating his mind to the exclusion of all other things, 
 and the slighest incident is seized upon as his cue 
 to rush upon the stage and begin the acting of a 
 part he has so often rehearsed. The first step once 
 taken, the man loses control over himself, and pos- 
 sessed (by the devil, according to Sir W. Norris) 
 by his resolve, he " sees red," and blindly continues 
 his course, attacking friends and foes, old and young 
 alike. Whatever his family history, the man is, at 
 this stage, a homicidal maniac, dealing death and 
 seeking it. In this country he is regarded as an 
 unusually dangerous beast, and his fellows so treat 
 him. As a rule he is not taken alive ; but wounded, 
 half-starved, exhausted after a long chase, the fit 
 may, to some extent, wear itself out, and the police 
 may then effect a capture.
 
 256 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 If Dryden was the first to make classic his own 
 rendering of the Malay word amok, he is perhaps 
 responsible for a host of imitators, the latest of whom 
 I may be pardoned for quoting. This unique address 
 is stated (but I cannot say on what authority) to 
 have been recently delivered by an Indian pleader in 
 the court of a magistrate at Barisal. It is a veritable 
 case of dmok on the English language : 
 
 " My learned friend with mere wind from a teapot 
 thinks to browbeat me from my legs. But this is 
 mere gorilla warfare. I stand under the shoes of 
 my client, and only seek to place my bone of conten- 
 tion clearly in your Honour's eye. My learned friend 
 vainly runs amuck upon the sheet-anchors of my case. 
 Your Honour will be pleased enough to observe that 
 my client is a widow a poor chap with one post- 
 mortem son. A widow of this country, your Honour 
 will be pleased enough to observe, is not like a widow 
 of your Honour's country. A widow of this country 
 is not able to eat more than one meal a day, or to 
 wear clean clothes, or to look after a man. So my 
 poor client has not such physic or mind as to be able 
 to assault the lusty complainant. Yet she has been 
 deprived of some of her more valuable leather the 
 leather of her nose. My learned friend has thrown 
 only an argument ad hominy upon my teeth that my
 
 FAULTY COMPOSITION 257 
 
 client's witnesses are all her own relations. But 
 they are not near relations. Their relationship is 
 only homoeopathic. So the misty arguments of my 
 learned friend will not hold water. At least they 
 will not hold good water. Then my learned friend 
 has said that there is on the side of his client a 
 respectable witness namely, a pleader, and, since 
 this witness is independent, so he should be believed. 
 But your Honour, with your Honour's vast expe- 
 rience, is pleased enough to observe that truthfulness 
 is not so plentiful as blackberries in this country. 
 And I am sorry to say, though this witness is a man 
 of my own feathers, that there are in my profession 
 black sheep of every complexion, and some of them 
 do not always speak Gospel truth. Until the witness 
 explains what have become of my client's nose-leather 
 he cannot be believed. He cannot be allowed to raise 
 a castle in the air by beating upon a bush. So, trust- 
 ing in that administration of British justice on which 
 the sun never sits, I close my case."
 
 LOCAL COLOUR 
 
 I TRUST no reader will suppose that, because I 
 have sketched the Malay in some of his darker 
 moods, it would be fair to him to imagine that he is 
 always, or even commonly, killing or trying to kill. 
 There was a time, not many years ago, when the 
 Malay Peninsula was a sealed book to white men. 
 The whole country was divided into eight or ten 
 States, and each State was despotically governed by 
 one man sultan, raja, or chief, as the case might 
 be. Under this hereditary ruler there were always 
 a number of more or less powerful chiefs, who nomi- 
 nally held their offices from the head of the State ; 
 but each of whom did pretty much as he pleased so 
 long as he professed allegiance to the ruler, did not 
 interfere with him or his relatives, and gave to him 
 some small portion of the taxes squeezed from Malay 
 raiyats and Chinese miners and traders. This con- 
 dition of affairs was due to a variety of reasons, 
 amongst the principal of which may be instanced
 
 LOCAL COLOUR 259 
 
 the absence of roads and the immense difficulties of 
 communication ; the jealousies and rivalries of dif- 
 ferent aspirants to the supreme authority; and the 
 consequent failure of any individual to make his 
 power recognised throughout the State. Want of 
 funds, constitutional dilatoriness and weakness, and 
 the traditions of centuries of misrule, were also con- 
 tributory causes. 
 
 It was this burden of many masters, and no foun- 
 tain of justice or appeal, which made the lives of the 
 poor so unbearable, that in many places the Malay 
 population was dwindling at a rate to ensure the early 
 extinction of the race. Under such conditions, it is 
 not altogether surprising that the resources of the 
 country were neglected ; that strangers declined to 
 trust their persons and property to such unreliable 
 hosts ; that the exceeding bitter cry of serfdom and 
 slavery fell on deaf ears ; and that, in a society where 
 might was right, each man consulted his own in- 
 clinations, and those only, caring little by what 
 means he achieved his end, so long as the end was 
 gained. 
 
 A well-nigh perpetual state of strife was the 
 result. And, though it never reached more than 
 insignificant proportions, it was enough, with con- 
 stant visitations of pestilence, with the want entailed
 
 6o THE REAL MALAY 
 
 by uncultivated fields, the dearth of money and the 
 absence of all paid labour, to decimate the people 
 and drive the poor remnant of them into the train 
 of the nearest chief, to rob or murder at his dic- 
 tation, or under his protection. 
 
 That was the despotism of the individual ; not so 
 much of the ruler as of each little district chief, each 
 village head-man ; while every sprig of nobility 
 with more ambition than means, every free-lance 
 with a stout heart, a good weapon, and a little 
 reckless enterprise, wandered about the country 
 seeking adventures, and making the most helpless 
 pay for his amusement. 
 
 Then came British intervention, and an entirely 
 new order of things. The idea of government 
 became a reality. Slavery, debt-bondage, and forced 
 labour were abolished. One central authority, and 
 one only, was recognised. Powers of life and 
 death, and punishment in all its forms, were reserved 
 for the ruler and those acting in his name. Every 
 complaint was heard, Courts of Justice (though per- 
 haps not of law) were instituted throughout the land, 
 and their doors were open to rich or poor, to ratyat 
 or to raja, without respect of persons. Roads, rail- 
 ways, and telegraphs were constructed in every 
 direction, and greatest innovation of all the land
 
 LOCAL COLOUR 261 
 
 was made the absolute property of those who culti- 
 vated it. Work was plentiful, wages high, and the 
 labourers few; so all classes became rich, as the 
 resources of the country were exploited by Chinese 
 and other immigrants, who now flocked into the 
 States. Hospitals were built, the sick attended, 
 sanitation insisted upon, and epidemics of cholera 
 and smallpox the scourge and terror of the country 
 disappeared as by magic. The long-abandoned 
 fields were cultivated, and plentiful harvests added 
 to the comfort and prosperity of the labouring 
 classes, who saw their children educated in Govern- 
 ment schools, where reading, writing, and a simple 
 course of figures, all taught in Malay, were supple- 
 mented by the study of the Koran. The man who 
 used to walk about with three daggers in his belt, 
 two spears in his left hand, a sword under his right 
 arm, and a gun over his shoulder, now goes into the 
 jungle with only a chopping-knife ; and the boy of 
 tender years has given up his array of miniature 
 weapons for a slate and a bundle of books. 
 
 "The old order changeth," and, in the case of 
 the Malay, the change amounts to something like 
 regeneration. But the miracles that have been 
 wrought are all evident to eye and ear. The in- 
 crease of comfort, the better houses, better clothes,
 
 a6i THE REAL MALAY 
 
 the cultivated fields and cared-for orchards signs 
 of freedom, prosperity, and safety these are but 
 the reflection of administrative progress ; of roads^ 
 railways, canals, and waterworks ; of solid and even 
 handsome public buildings, populous well-ordered 
 towns, and beautiful parks and gardens. The out- 
 ward signs of the people's life have changed, as 
 the face of the country has changed and is changing ; 
 but at heart the Malay man and the Malay woman 
 are very much what they were. Circumstances 
 have provided prisons and punishment for the 
 wicked; peace, safety, freedom, and opportunities 
 of culture and expansion for the immense majority, 
 whose instincts are patriotic and self-respecting, 
 courageous, generous, homely, and compassionate, 
 if they cannot fairly be called noble or deeply reli- 
 gious, strictly upright or more than moderately 
 moral, according to Western standards of morality. 
 It is difficult to imagine any state of human 
 existence more typical of perfect peace, of idyllic 
 simplicity, of warmth and colour, and the plenty 
 bestowed by a superabundantly-fruitful Nature, than 
 that presented by a Malay riverine hamlet, when the 
 observer has time and inclination to note the details 
 of the picture. It is painted by nature, true to life, 
 in perfect proportion, full of atmosphere, of light
 
 LOCAL COLOUR 263 
 
 and shade, of striking realities and subtle sugges- 
 tions; and it satisfies the artistic sense in a way 
 that seems peculiar to many phases of Eastern 
 scenery. 
 
 Any very beautiful sight almost instantly raises 
 a wish, in the heart of the beholder, that his joy 
 should be shared by those he loves, by those to 
 whom such a scene would appeal as it does to him. 
 If he can dabble in colours, or feebly outline a word 
 picture, he very probably tries to put on canvas, or 
 paper, some semblance of the beauty which has so 
 stirred his feelings. In either case the result can 
 be little more than a caricature of what he saw. If 
 the knowledge of certain failure to conjure up the 
 very scene is to deter him, then there is an end 
 of all effort; for no brush, no pen, can reproduce 
 nature, and yet either may, in even indifferent 
 hands, catch a faint semblance 01 the reality, and 
 give, sometimes pleasure, sometimes a grain of 
 instruction. The fact that the comparative exact- 
 ness of a photograph often conveys a poorer idea 
 of a scene than a very indifferently-painted sketch, 
 gives encouragement, and some justification, to an 
 accurate and truth-loving observer, who honestly 
 tries, with however little success, to share his 
 pleasant experiences with those who may never
 
 264 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 have the opportunity of seeing with their own eyes 
 what he has seen. 
 
 I question whether it is any more possible to 
 exactly portray a real character than it is to de- 
 scribe a scene ; and the reason why we tire after a 
 page of the latter, but can wade through volumes of 
 the former, however unnatural or impossible, is 
 because our interest in the human being is im- 
 measurably greater than our interest in scenery. 
 That is curious, in a way ; because, when we seek 
 our own pleasure, it is far more commonly to view 
 a new land, a great building, a marvellous work of 
 art, than in the expectation, or even with the desire, 
 of meeting an interesting individuality. We like to 
 read about individuals who are so cleverly drawn 
 that they awaken our interest; but when we seek 
 them in life, we have to go through a good deal of 
 painful labour for each successful quest. And then 
 we cannot throw the tiresome experiences across the 
 room, directly we realise that we are wasting time and 
 temper with a disappointment of our own seeking. 
 
 Character has, however, one great attraction, as 
 compared with the visible beauties of nature and 
 art; it is hidden from sight. Moreover, the more 
 complex the character, the more difficult it is to 
 discover in all its workings, the more absorbing the
 
 LOCAL COLOUR 265 
 
 study. Uncertainty always attracts, and experienced 
 intelligence knows that certainty, in regard to the 
 character of another, is a very difficult end to attain; 
 while the fact that traits have been revealed to us 
 (to our insight or for love of us) that are hidden 
 from the many, is very soothing to our self-esteem. 
 It is often said that a European cannot under- 
 stand the character of an Eastern, or follow the 
 curious workings of his brain. I doubt whether the 
 Eastern is any more difficult to understand than the 
 Western, when once you have taken the trouble to 
 study him, as you would prepare yourself for the 
 consideration of any other subject of which you did 
 not know the rudiments. One who is the outcome 
 of Western civilisation and Christian teaching, could 
 hardly expect to understand the peculiarities of an 
 Eastern character, the product of generations of 
 Muhammadan or Hindu ancestors. But if you live 
 in the East for years if you make yourself perfectly 
 familiar with the language, literature, customs, pre- 
 judices, and superstitions of the people ; if you lie 
 on the same floor with them, eat out of the same 
 dish with them, fight with them and against them, 
 join them in their ssorrows and their joys, and, at 
 last, win their confidence and regard then the 
 reading of their characters is no longer an impos-
 
 266 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 sible task, and you will find that between one East- 
 ern and another there is a much greater similarity 
 than there is between two Westerns, even though 
 they be of the same nationality. There are good 
 and bad, energetic and lazy, but you will hardly 
 ever meet those complex products of Western civil- 
 isation whose characters are subordinated to the 
 state of their nerves, and those to the season of 
 the year, the surroundings of the moment, politics, 
 the money market, and a thousand things of which 
 the Eastern is blissfully unconscious. His mind 
 follows one bent, as his scenery beautiful, and 
 strange, and novel though it is to us follows one 
 type, repeating itself throughout the whole of a vast 
 area; so that, when the features of the country 
 change, the features of the people, their language, 
 manners, religion, and even their colour, will pro- 
 bably undergo as great a change. 
 
 I am only dealing here with a very small and very 
 remote corner of a hemisphere, but, to illustrate my 
 meaning, I will try to smudge in a tiny bit of local 
 colour, just as I saw it. 
 
 A Malay will always choose the bank of a navi- 
 gable stream for his dwelling, if he can. Round his 
 house he plants the palms and fruit trees which 
 give shade, aiid food, and profit. The river is the
 
 LOCAL COLOUR 267 
 
 road on which he drives his boat, and it also sup- 
 plies him with all that he drinks, with his bath, with 
 sport, and the fish that reward his skill. From 
 Malay life it may be said that woman is never 
 absent ; and in the conversation of Malays, perhaps 
 the chief characteristic is the fashion of speaking in 
 parables, by innuendo, by the use of doubles entendres 
 and apparently meaningless suggestions, which are 
 as well understood by those for whom they are in- 
 tended as our plainer and more direct forms of 
 speech. This practice imparts to conversation a 
 zest and flavour as in some game where there is a 
 pleasurable sensation of risk, and a stimulating 
 challenge to the exercise of wit, intelligence, ready 
 comprehension and apt reply. 
 
 Now this is what I saw and heard as I stood in 
 a grove of coco-nuts on the bank of a great Malay 
 river. It was late afternoon, and the sun was cast- 
 ing shafts of hot light between the palms, across the 
 fern-carpeted ground, through the feathery fronds 
 of bamboos swaying gently on the river's bank, out 
 among the dancing ripples of the stream. Under 
 the trees was gathered a little group of men and 
 women. Dark, olive-skinned natives of the country, 
 clad in soft-toned silks ; the women wearing, besides 
 their skirts and jackets, gossamer veils, studded and
 
 268 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 edged with gold embroidery not veils to hide the 
 face, only to frame it in a tenderly-artful setting, 
 whence the dark-lashed, dewy eyes might stir the 
 beholder's blood more easily. 
 
 Some naked children laughed and played within 
 the shallows of the crooning stream ; fought in the 
 shallows and fell into the silent pools of deeper 
 water, shadowed by branches hidden from the sun. 
 
 The picture caught my eye and held me dreamily 
 delighted. 
 
 Then a voice spoke, and it said this only not 
 this this in an Eastern tongue 
 
 " Strange that the nut should seem so fair, so full 
 of all that's good, and yet the squirrel's gnawed a 
 hole right through the shell and left it empty ! " 
 
 I turned and saw a man, his head thrown back, 
 gazing upwards towards a bunch of nuts in the top 
 of a lofty tree. At least so it seemed, but I realised 
 that, though his face was set that way, his eyes 
 looked inward, and on his lips was a scarcely-per- 
 ceptible sneer the shadow of that inner sight. 
 
 Beyond his face I saw another that of a girl, 
 young and comely, and on it was written death 
 death to be dealt out sudden and sure and her 
 eyes, for that instant, fell straight on the face of the 
 speaker. Then I understood.
 
 A MEZZOTINT 
 
 A7TER many years' intimate acquaintance with 
 Malays of all classes, I have come to the con- 
 clusion that the scheme of a Malay woman's exist- 
 ence is so ordered that, while the sordid element 
 is usually there, the romantic not seldom, and the 
 tragic, perhaps oftener than among Western people, 
 it would still be difficult to set down, in black and 
 white, the life-story of any typical Malay woman 
 and invest the telling with interest to a Western 
 reader. The reason is that the Malay, like all 
 Eastern women, lives a life apart. As a girl she 
 mixes only with those of her own family, and, if 
 she ever sees men, it is practically never to speak 
 to them. Her intercourse with other girls is very 
 limited, and older women treat her as a child until 
 she marries. Her intellectual education is so slight 
 that one can only be surprised at the quite uncom- 
 mon intelligence shown by many of the better class, 
 when once they have attained the position which 
 
 rfg
 
 270 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 allows them to be seen and heard. The Malay 
 passes straight from childhood to womanhood ; 
 for her there is practically no girlhood. In the 
 choice of a husband she has no part, and may 
 never have seen her suitor till he comes in the 
 character of a bridegroom, to claim his affianced 
 bride. 
 
 From our point of view, the traditions of her 
 country, the prejudices of her society, are very much 
 against her; but the Malay woman has feminine 
 instincts, qualities, and characteristics which do not 
 greatly differ from those common to others of her 
 sex more happily circumstanced. Only she has 
 very few opportunities of indulging in aspirations, 
 and she knows practically nothing of the " Rights 
 of Woman." To her, those rights are precisely 
 limited by the power and influence which she can 
 exercise over men, by reason of her personal attrac- 
 tions, her superior intelligence, or the possession of 
 wealth. 
 
 Ages of custom, and generations of law-giving, 
 cannot stifle natural impulses, though they may 
 control or punish their indulgence. It follows, 
 therefore, that, if the romance of girlhood is denied 
 to the Malay woman, the craving for adoration, for 
 the exercise of some freedom of choice, even the
 
 A MEZZOTINT 271 
 
 desire to awaken affection in others, to gratify 
 curiosity, or measure the power of physical attrac- 
 tions, will find opportunities for indulgence at a later 
 period of life. Here again the field of adventure is 
 narrowed, by the ease with which divorce is secured 
 and re-marriage contracted. Still, passions run high 
 among a people living within shout of the equator, 
 and Malays are so constituted that neither custom, 
 nor law, nor the power of easy arrangement suffice 
 to prevent them giving way to some measure of 
 passionate madness, of blind stupidity, or of criminal 
 wickedness, in their social relations. That is per- 
 haps the more strange as there is no Malayan Mrs. 
 Grundy, and society never turns its back on any 
 man, or any woman, no matter how heinous their 
 offences in this regard. If morality is a question of 
 latitude, one form of it is, by Western standards 
 decidedly lax throughout a good many degrees north 
 and south of the equator. 
 
 So far I have referred only to the women gentle 
 and simple of Malay society; where there is no 
 admixture, or any but the most ceremonial inter- 
 course with Europeans, or with the people of any 
 other nationality. The stories of such lives would, I 
 repeat, make but dull reading for foreigners. There 
 will be occasional exceptions, tragic or pathetic
 
 272 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 tales, which only reach the ears of Malays, or of 
 those few sympathetic and trusted Europeans from 
 whom nothing is hidden. Even in these cases, the 
 bare facts would supply a foundation so slender 
 that, to make it support a respectable edifice, the 
 builder would have to add materials which would 
 destroy the character of the structure. Malays 
 build with bamboo and palm-leaves, at best with 
 wood and thatch, and, in a way, the dwellings 
 formed of these flimsy materials are typical of the 
 inconsequent lives of those who inhabit them. 
 
 From what I have said, it might be thought that 
 a little education, a little emancipation, is what the 
 Malay woman chiefly needs. I doubt it. That 
 form of experiment, though full of interest to the 
 operator, is sometimes fatal to the patient. A little 
 learning is not so dangerous as to plant the seeds 
 of aspirations which can never grow to maturity. It 
 is easy for the teacher to make a child entirely 
 dissatisfied with all its old surroundings, to fill it 
 with a determination to have something better than 
 the old life, or to have nothing at all. But, when 
 the time comes to satisfy the cultivated taste of the 
 educated mind, the teacher is powerless to help, is 
 probably far out of reach, and the lonely soul of the 
 misdirected girl will find little comfort in her old
 
 A MEZZOTINT 273 
 
 home and the society of her own unregenerate 
 people. 
 
 I have been drawn into these serious considera- 
 tions by the recollection of certain disjointed confi- 
 dences made to me, by one Edward Cathcart, of 
 whom I have something to say before I repeat his 
 story. 
 
 "When I first met Cathcart, he was about one-and- 
 twenty ; tall, dark, well made, lithe, and strong. 
 He was the son of a noted Indian civilian, but both 
 his parents were dead, and he had been brought up 
 by an indulgent aunt. The boy had been educated 
 at a great public school, where he had distinguished 
 himself as much by his intellectual gifts as by his 
 pre-eminence in all athletic sports. Unlike most 
 English boys, he was extremely musical, knew by 
 heart the works of many of the great composers, 
 most of the popular music of the day, and could 
 play by ear almost anything he heard. Besides 
 this, he had a manner of such charm that his popu- 
 larity, especially with men, was quite extraordinary ; 
 and more than once I have known men quarrel 
 because they thought he showed a preference for 
 one or other in the circle of his nearest friends 
 
 On the other hand, partly by character, and partly, 
 I think, by reason of the fact that he hardly remem-
 
 274 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 bered either father or mother, he was self-willed and 
 self-indulgent, careless of his own interests and 
 thoughtless of those of others. The charm of his 
 manner and the fascination of his many gifts had, 
 doubtless, made those who surrounded him indulge 
 him as a boy and try to spoil him as a man. For 
 all that, there was nothing to show that he had been 
 affected by a worship that might easily have turned 
 a weaker head. 
 
 Cathcart left England, went eastward, and sought 
 a career in Malaya. There his ability at once at- 
 tracted attention, and his manner, his address (for 
 he was even then a man of the world), made him a 
 host of friends. A born linguist, he had no difficulty 
 in learning the language of the country, and every- 
 thing seemed to promise him a brilliant future. 
 
 For the rest, I can only try to repeat what he told 
 me. The story is vague and fragmentary, the inci- 
 dents few and of doubtful interest ; but I must leave 
 them to speak for themselves. If I tried to make a 
 finished picture of what he left with me, I should 
 only mar the outlines. The paper is too old, the 
 colours are too faded, to permit of any successful 
 redaubing now. 
 
 When Cathcart made his first acquaintance with 
 the East, there dwelt in one of the Malay States a
 
 A MEZZOTINT 275 
 
 chief of Arab blood, not, perhaps, wholly unmixed 
 with Malay, but still pure enough to distinguish him 
 from the people of the land. He had married a 
 woman of his own class, but in her case the Malay 
 character and features were predominant. In all 
 the Malay States these so-called Arab families are 
 to be found, sprung originally from some wandering 
 Seyyid, who, recently or remotely, had visited Malaya 
 and taken a wife from the best of the people. The 
 descendants are regarded with the same respect and 
 addressed by the same titles as the children of a 
 Raja. The chief in question, a mild, intelligent, but 
 rather colourless man, had a large family of sons and 
 one daughter the Unku Sherifa when formally ad- 
 dressed, but " Long " to her relatives and intimates. 
 Unfortunately for her, this girl had nothing in 
 common with either her parents or her brothers. 
 Her mother, a sweet, gentle lady of middle age and 
 charming manners, might probably have been well- 
 favoured once, but there were only faint traces left 
 to give grounds for the assumption. The brothers, 
 with one exception, were decidedly plain, and none 
 of them was gifted with more than moderate intelli- 
 gence. The girl, on the contrary, was quite un- 
 usually attractive. Tall, slight, and graceful, very 
 fair in complexion, with the Arab cast of feature
 
 276 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 the high forehead, straight nose, marvellous eyes, 
 eyebrows, and eyelashes. A mouth like Cupid's 
 bow and perfect teeth of dazzling whiteness ; an oval 
 face and dimpled chin ; the head, with its wealth of 
 jet-black hair, firm-set on a slender neck; small 
 delicate hands and feet, an unformed figure, and a 
 carriage which suggested pride of station, completed 
 my friend's description of Unku Sherifa when first 
 he met her. 
 
 Wide as was the difference in appearance between 
 the girl and her family, far greater was the intel- 
 lectual gulf which divided them. I seem to have 
 read somewhere : " It is a serious misfortune when 
 the solitary girl of a family has more intelligence 
 than parents or brothers." Whether or not my 
 memory betrays me for I cannot place the words 
 the dictum applied in this case ; for it no doubt bred 
 in the girl a certain contempt for her ovrn people, 
 and for the Malay neighbours who were even less 
 intelligent, while it drew her towards those of another 
 race and a higher education, with whom Fate chose 
 to throw her. 
 
 Whilst quite a child from the age of ten years 
 or so Unku Sherifa had paid long visits to a British 
 possession, where she had been taken up by the 
 wife of a high official, who had two girls of her own
 
 A MEZZOTINT 277 
 
 of much the same age as this Arab-Malay. No doubt 
 the child's good looks and unusual intelligence first 
 led to this intimacy ; and her winning manner soon 
 made her the friend and constant companion of the 
 two bright English girls. Unku Sherifa's father, an 
 easy-going man, was probably flattered by the atten- 
 tion paid to his daughter, and feeling that she was 
 of finer clay than himself and his other children, he 
 was willing enough to see her in such good hands. 
 
 In the house of the English official, and in constant 
 companionship with his wife and daughters, Unku 
 Sherifa soon grew accustomed to meeting and speak- 
 ing with Europeans, and the shyness common to 
 native girls rapidly wore of. This life, this imper- 
 ceptible education, where the half-Arab girl found 
 herself an ever-welcome guest in the English house, 
 continued for some years, during which Unku Sherifa 
 acquired a taste, not only for the refined surround- 
 ings, but also for the companionship of those whose 
 ways and appearance were, to her quick eyes, so differ- 
 ent from those of her own home and her own people. 
 
 Then her friends left the East for ever ; and she 
 returned to her own country and her father's house, 
 with all her time leisure in which to draw compari- 
 sons between the past and the present, and to 
 speculate on the uninviting prospects of the future.
 
 y8 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 Unku Sherifa found, on her return home, that an 
 English officer was stationed within a few miles of 
 her father's house, and as this officer had frequent 
 interviews with the chief, and the latter had, at once 
 and with some pride, introduced his daughter to the 
 white man, the girl soon struck up a friendship with 
 this stranger. She was fortunate, or unfortunate, 
 enough to find, in this new friend a chivalrous, 
 simple-minded gentleman, whose sympathies were 
 entirely with the people of the country, and whose 
 heart went out to this girl, who brightened the lone- 
 liness of his solitude. 
 
 Unku Sherifa, or " Long," as her new friend soon 
 learned to call her, had a girl companion of her own 
 rank and about her own age, and these two used to 
 visit the Englishman almost daily, and spend much 
 of their time in his house; driving down in the 
 morning and home in the evening. The chief and 
 his wife, very easy-going people as I have said, were 
 entirely satisfied with an arrangement which they 
 realised gave pleasure to a daughter, whose natural 
 intelligence and special opportunities had carried her 
 into a realm of knowledge beyond their old-fashioned 
 ideas and more limited capacity. Matters continued 
 on this footing till destiny sent Cathcart to this 
 remote country. With his coming, the girls found
 
 A MEZZOTINT 279 
 
 an occasional companion more nearly of their own 
 age, and possessing greater attractions than the 
 friend, who was old enough to be the father of 
 either of them, and who had always treated them 
 like children. 
 
 The elder girl, when Cathcart first met her, was 
 sixteen or seventeen, and owing to the special cir- 
 cumstances of her social education, she possessed the 
 manners of a woman of her class and nationality 
 rather than a girl. By a very malignant trick of 
 fate, it happened that the chief and his family were 
 so immeasurably superior in intelligence, in birth, 
 and in what may be called education, to the other 
 Malays of the place, that the only two white men in 
 the country were drawn to their society, not only by 
 official relations, but by inclination, by their own 
 isolation, and by what seemed to them, in those 
 early days, the uninteresting character of their other 
 neighbours. The attraction, therefore, was mutual ; 
 and the chief himself helped to cement the bonds of 
 friendship by constantly consulting his daughter on 
 the affairs of his country, and by entrusting her with 
 messages to the Englishmen when he could not him- 
 self find time to visit them. 
 
 A year or two passed, and the girls, who were 
 cousins, had often found their way to Cathcart's
 
 280 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 quarters, either accompanied by their white friend, 
 by Unku Long's mother, or simply without chaperon. 
 They would arrive in the afternoon, and laugh over 
 their unskilful attempts to play lawn-tennis, or they 
 would drive together to some place of interest, or 
 simply stroll about the house and garden till night 
 drove them home. The country people, seeing these 
 girls so constantly about with the white strangers, 
 were astonished, and hardly knew what to make of 
 it. At first they were inclined to gossip, but as there 
 were no developments, and their chief seemed entirely 
 satisfied, they accepted the situation as something 
 beyond the comprehension of ignorant villagers. 
 
 With two people like Cathcart and Unku Long, 
 constantly thrown into each other's society, and that 
 under such circumstances, it was perhaps not very 
 surprising that the man became greatly attracted by 
 the girl's beauty and intelligence, or that she realised 
 his admiration not less than his own personal charm. 
 In telling me this part of the story, he was neither 
 very explicit, nor did his manner invite me to ask 
 more than he chose to divulge. I gathered, however, 
 that one evening when the rest of the party were 
 amusing themselves indoors, and he found himself 
 alone with Long in the garden, he had been led by 
 the disturbing beauty of the Eastern night to declare
 
 A MEZZOTINT 281 
 
 an insane love for the girl, and to ask her if she 
 would trust herself to him. 
 
 It did not seem to occur to her to show any 
 maidenly resentment against that proposal. She 
 only said, "I will not do what you ask; because if 
 I did, I should stay here always. How would you 
 like that ? " 
 
 That simple question robbed the night of all its 
 glamour, and, while it left Cathcart speechless, it 
 conjured up a vista of trouble that showed him he 
 had neither counted the cost nor was he prepared to 
 face it. Not only that, but he was suddenly and 
 bitterly conscious of the very unpleasant light in 
 which he now stood revealed to his companion and 
 his better self. 
 
 Then she said, very quietly, " When two people 
 love each other, one always loves best, and you are 
 not that one." 
 
 Cathcart's fury with himself was, for the instant, 
 forgotten in his astonishment at hearing these words 
 from a Malay girl's lips ; but he concluded that the 
 hearts of men and women speak but one language 
 all the world over, and he sought the first excuse he 
 could find to relieve the embarrassment of a situation 
 for which he could not sufficiently blame himself. 
 
 In the weeks and months which followed, Long's
 
 282 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 manner towards Cathcart never changed ; she saw 
 always the same beautiful, self-possessed, perfectly 
 natural girl, the same bright, intelligent companion. 
 But Cathcart, very conscious of his own ill-doing, 
 rather avoided his former friends, and spent any 
 leisure he had in the usually fruitless pursuit of the 
 tiger, the bison, and other denizens of Malay jungles. 
 He was not even very grieved when circumstances 
 took him from a society he did not rightly under- 
 stand, and sent him to reside in a British Settlement. 
 A man does not easily forgive himself for making a 
 false step, especially when it leaves him with a sense 
 of his own unworthiness. He is, not uncommonly, 
 apt to visit some of his anger on those against whom 
 he has sinned, more especially if he is indebted to 
 them for past favours. 
 
 Time passed, and with it Unku Long's father and 
 earlier English friend. The Malay soil claimed their 
 bodies, but the spirits of both are still alive in the 
 land, which to one was an inheritance, and to the 
 other an adopted home. With the death of the chief, 
 Unku Long's family fell on evil days. Their means 
 were greatly restricted, and they were no longer the 
 greatest people in the place; for another king reigned, 
 who had no special sympathy for their troubles. 
 Worst of all, perhaps, their tried friend was " lost,"
 
 A MEZZOTINT 283 
 
 as the Malays say, and his successor was more in- 
 terested in the reigning chief than concerned with 
 the fallen fortunes of a family that would grow 
 strong in importunity as it grew weak in power. 
 The widow, Unku Long's mother, a tender-hearted 
 lady of weak character, was not constituted to fight 
 against unkind circumstance, and amongst her 
 numerous sons, not one of whom had fairly reached 
 manhood, there was none fit to take his place as 
 head of the family. In this stress the old lady, 
 urged by tradition, by her relatives, and to some 
 extent by her sons, made up her wavering mind 
 that her daughter ought to be married. Acting on 
 this reluctantly accepted advice, the widow con- 
 sented to betroth Unku Long to the son of a neigh- 
 bouring potentate, who rejoiced in a great title and 
 very slender means. The youth in question was 
 the merest boy younger, if anything, than his 
 fiancee. In appearance he was insignificant, in 
 intelligence rather below the common standard of 
 youths of his class, and having lived almost entirely 
 in the interior, he was gauche and mannerless what 
 Malays slightingly term "a jungle-wallah." 
 
 Just at this juncture Cathcart, who had not been 
 in the State for at least two years, who knew noth- 
 ing of what was going on, and who had married
 
 284 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and was settled in Singapore, was compelled to pay 
 a flying visit to the scene of his former sojourn. To 
 emphasise the strange perversity of fate, Cathcart 
 found himself a soldier-friend his only companion 
 the tenant for three days of an isolated house 
 within stone's-throw of the old chief's dwelling. 
 
 On the afternoon of his arrival, Unku Long and 
 her mother drove over to this house, and, while the 
 girl said little, the old lady made no concealment of 
 her unfeigned pleasure at seeing Cathcart again. 
 There was much to say, and she spent an hour talk- 
 ing of the old days, of her husband, and their lost 
 friend the white man. In recalling his many 
 virtues and kindnesses, she could not restrain her 
 tears. By-and-by the soldier appeared, and was 
 duly presented. Almost as it seemed without in- 
 tention, Cathcart found himself walking through the 
 garden with Long, having left the mother trying to 
 make herself understood by the very much bored 
 officer, who did not in the least appreciate the 
 situation, or his own share in it. 
 
 There was not much time in which to waste words, 
 and the girl made no attempt either to recall the past 
 or dally with the present. Without preliminary or 
 hesitation, but looking Cathcart straight in the eyes, 
 she said, " I am to be married in two days."
 
 A MEZZOTINT 285, 
 
 Then passionately : " I loathe it ; I will not consent 
 to it ; I cannot marry the man. I hate him. It is im- 
 possible. I don't want to marry any Malay. Oh ! take 
 me away, take me away with you back to Singapore." 
 
 " I am very sorry," said Cathcart ; " I had no idea 
 of anything of the kind, but I can't take you to 
 Singapore. What should I do with you ? " 
 
 " Whatever you like," she replied. " Oh ! have 
 pity on me, and take me away with you ; I cannot 
 stay here to be made to marry this man." 
 
 " I cannot," he said ; " indeed, it is impossible 
 I am married." 
 
 " I don't care," said Long, " I don't care ; take me 
 with you, and find me a house in Singapore, and I 
 will do anything you please. You know you can if 
 you wish. Ah ! for pity's sake, take me ; you 
 must not leave me here. I shall kill myself, or kill 
 him, or do something dreadful." 
 
 " I cannot, he said ; " you do not understand. 
 What you ask is impossible. But I will speak to 
 your mother, and see if something cannot be done 
 to prevent the marriage." 
 
 " Ah ! that is useless," she replied, in a hopeless 
 way; "if I stay here, nothing can prevent it, for it 
 is to be the night after to-morrow. Let us go back 
 to my mother."
 
 286 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 Cathcart, deeply moved by the girl's distress, and 
 rebelling almost as much as she did against this 
 marriage which was being forced upon her, sought 
 the mother, and used all the arguments and per- 
 suasions he could think of to plead the daughter's 
 cause. He felt all the time that he had no right to 
 interfere, and that he would do no good, but for all 
 that he appealed to the old lady, and when he had 
 exhausted all other means, asked her what their 
 dead friend, the Englishman, would have thought of 
 forcing Long into this distasteful alliance. It hardly 
 wanted that to touch the widow, who was accus- 
 tomed rather to be led by her daughter than to 
 dictate to her. When she parted with Cathcart, she 
 was tearful, distracted, and full of regrets for her 
 own forlorn position ; without husband to relieve her 
 of responsibility, or adviser whom she could trust 
 and whose word would carry weight with her rela- 
 tives. She promised to see what could be done, 
 but said that as all the preparations for the cere- 
 mony had been made, she feared it was too 
 late to make any change in the arrangements, or 
 find excuses to satisfy the bridegroom and his 
 friends. 
 
 The girl said nothing. She had made a desperate 
 appeal to Cathcart, and it had failed. She knew
 
 A MEZZOTINT 287 
 
 that nothing but death could save her. It was 
 Fate, she said, falling back on the Malay's last 
 word. 
 
 Under somewhat similar circumstances, Malay 
 girls occasionally say they will destroy themselves, 
 but they very, very rarely carry out the threat. It 
 is not because they fear death ; I am rather inclined 
 to believe that it is because suicide is not the custom. 
 Men, over-wrought and over-tried, seek and obtain 
 death by the blind onslaught on friends and foes, 
 which has gained for them an unenviable reputation. 
 Women do not meng-Amok ; they submit, outwardly, 
 while in their hearts they rebel passionately against 
 the cruelties of life, the necessities imposed by 
 custom and the rules of Muhammadan society. 
 Therefore, nothing further happened to interfere 
 with Unku Long's marriage, and the ceremony was 
 duly performed in a quiet way befitting people in 
 straitened circumstances. Two nights later Cath- 
 cart and his friend, the former much against the 
 grain, attended the final stage of the proceedings. 
 The girl's face of stony misery misery so hopeless 
 that she seemed to be unaware of what was going 
 on, and never by the slightest glance showed that 
 she recognised him or any of those about her 
 drove Cathcart from the house, with some lame
 
 288 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 excuse for his apparent rudeness. He left the 
 State the next morning, and never saw Unku Long 
 again. 
 
 That is all of her ; at least all that I am prepared 
 to tell, beyond this brief statement. The marriage 
 was a failure a failure of the worst and in a few 
 weeks, or at least months, the girl was divorced 
 from her husband. The rest does not concern this 
 tale, and I did not hear it from Cathcart. Unku 
 Sherifa, the chief's daughter, fell on evil days, drank 
 of the dregs from the cup of life, and, after two or 
 three years' wandering with her poor old mother, 
 the girl died, and was buried in a foreign land, far 
 from her own people. 
 
 Ages afterwards the girl-friend of her childhood 
 told me, with tears in her eyes, the pitiful story of 
 Unku Long's death. As I looked at that plain 
 woman, with her courtly manners and all the evi- 
 dences of worldly contentment, I could not help 
 contrasting her lot with that of her long-dead cousin. 
 Yet it was the other who seemed to begin life with 
 all the advantages. Truly it is a dangerous thing 
 for white people to take up attractive native children, 
 and, while spoiling them for the life of their race 
 and inheritance, set their faces toward a road which 
 their unaccustomed feet can only tread with pain
 
 A MEZZOTINT 289 
 
 and misery, while the bourne, more likely than not, 
 will be disaster. 
 
 As for Cathcart, it is curious that much the same 
 fate overtook him. He became reckless, almost 
 to the point of loss of principle, alienated his 
 friends, fell into difficulties, and incurred some 
 measure of disgrace. He left this country, and died 
 thousands of miles away, on the borders of yet 
 another of the many outposts of the world-embracing 
 British Empire. 
 
 
 
 As I was writing these last words, a beautiful 
 green cicada, with great eyes and long transparent 
 wings, flew into the room and dashed straight at a 
 lamp. In spite of several severe burns, and all my 
 efforts to save her, she has accomplished her own 
 destruction, and now lies dead and stark ; the victim 
 of a new light which excited her curiosity and 
 admiration, but the consuming power of which she 
 did not understand. 
 
 She would have been wiser to remain in the cool, 
 moonlit jungle, where, at least, she was at home 
 with those of her own kind; but the creatures of 
 the forest have not yet learned the danger of giving 
 way to natural instincts.
 
 IN CHARCOAL 
 
 THE sun had just set I was wandering along 
 a level grey road, between stretches of emerald 
 grass, broken by clumps of palms and flowering 
 trees, groups of shrubs, with foliage of many brilliant 
 hues, and pools of clear, dark water glittering with 
 strange lights or sombre with deep reflections. The 
 plain was darkening momentarily, darkening with 
 the shadows of swiftly-approaching night ; but, 
 half a mile away, to the eastward, the valley was 
 bounded by the steep slopes of a great range of 
 forest-covered hills, rising to a height of five thou- 
 sand feet, and stretching away, to north and south, 
 out of the range of vision. Gradually these slopes 
 were suffused with an indescribable colour, that 
 rose-red effulgence which illumines the heavens in 
 the short aftermath of a far-eastern sunset. Under 
 this amazing glow, this deep conscious blush, which 
 seemed to grow from inward rather than to be 
 
 thrown upon them by any outward influence, every 
 
 390
 
 IN CHARCOAL 291 
 
 ridge and every valley was defined with marvellous 
 clearness. One seemed to see into the heart of 
 those virgin forests ; while the stems and branches 
 of the great trees were so minutely delineated that 
 the spectacle produced a sense of unreality, which 
 was heightened by the rapid fading of both colour 
 and light. The whole effect lasted but a few 
 minutes, and then the hills became grey and indis- 
 tinct; a huge mass of jungle-covered mountain, 
 growing dim and mysterious under a purple-tinged 
 haze, from which every trace of warmth and colour 
 suddenly vanished. 
 
 I had stopped several times to watch these suc- 
 cessive changes ; but, when the light failed, 1 turned 
 away from the darkening hills and strolled home- 
 wards. As I came to a bridge, I saw, seated on the 
 parapet, a figure that at once arrested my attention. 
 It was a child ; a boy, with an unusually dark face, 
 wherein shone eyes whose gloom and pathos were 
 intensified by the startling contrast between the 
 sombre blackness of the iris and its weirdly-white 
 surrounding. 
 
 The child seemed scarcely more than eight years 
 old, and his haunting look compelled me to go and 
 sit by him. He did not move, and I said, " What 
 is the matter?" But he gave no answer. I
 
 2 9 * THE REAL MALAY 
 
 repeated my question, but he only stared into 
 the distance. 
 
 I laid my hand gently on his small brown hand, 
 and I said, " Will you not speak to me ? where do 
 you live ? " 
 
 Then he turned slowly towards me, and gazed 
 for a long time into my face before he answered, 
 " Far away, over there, in the jungle." 
 
 " But what are you doing here ? " I inquired. 
 " Nothing," he replied. 
 
 That was evident, but his silence made me all the 
 more determined to learn why he was sitting there, 
 all alone, at such a time, and with that expression 
 of mute wretchedness, sad enough in the aged, but 
 uncanny in a child of his years. 
 
 "What is your name ?" I asked. His lips moved 
 as though to speak, but he said nothing, and I saw, 
 from the look in his face, that he had learned the 
 reluctance of all his race to tell their own names. I 
 did not press him, but said, " Have you no parents?" 
 He answered simply, " No." I was surprised, and 
 repeated my previous question, "Then what are you 
 doing here ? " This time he replied, " My grand- 
 mother brought me." 
 
 "But where is she?" I asked. "What is she 
 doing?"
 
 IN CHARCOAL 293 
 
 " I don't know/' he said. " She went out, and I 
 came here." 
 
 " Have you no brothers or sisters ? " I said. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Are you hungry ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " But what is the matter ? why do you look so 
 sad?" 
 
 " My father is dead." 
 
 " I am so sorry," I said ; " when did he die ? " 
 
 "This morning," answered the child. 
 
 "This morning! You poor boy; what was the 
 matter with him ? " 
 
 " He was hanged." 
 
 Even to a child, a very small and very dark-skinned 
 boy, it is hard to know what kind of comfort to offer 
 when he tells you that his father was hanged that 
 morning. The look of misery in those strange eyes 
 was no longer a mystery. The troubles of the world 
 had begun early for him, and had come to stay. 
 Surely some one ought to be comforting the child. 
 It was pitiful to find him sitting alone in the gather- 
 ing gloom, brooding over a trouble like this. His 
 mother ! But he had said he had no mother. Poor 
 little waif, fatherless and motherless, homeless, too, 
 for the moment, miles away from that jungle-hut
 
 294 THE REAL MALAY 
 
 and his playmates; only an old woman to stand 
 between him and the reproach of his father's death, 
 the memory of the curse that would cling to him for 
 all time. 
 
 It seemed to me that I ought to remember the 
 crime for which this child's father had died only 
 that morning, the morning of a day which had gone 
 in a blaze of such colour, that the sight of it had 
 stirred one's senses to a feeling of intense delight 
 very closely akin to pain. 
 
 No ! I could not recollect anything about the case. 
 The man had paid the extreme penalty, and might 
 already be suffering a further punishment for his 
 sins. But what had he done, this obscure dweller 
 in the jungle, to cut him off from the society of men 
 and the care of this orphan child, who now mourned 
 him with dry eyes, more sad than tears ? 
 
 I put my arm round the boy and tried to win his 
 confidence by my sympathy, to comfort him with 
 such lame and halting words as I could think of to 
 appeal to his intelligence. I felt all the time the 
 hopelessness of the task, and the child's expression 
 of dejected preoccupation froze some of the words 
 on my lips. Once or twice the boy tried to repress 
 a sigh of pain, or shuddered with the torture of a 
 smothered sob ; otherwise he made no sign.
 
 IN CHARCOAL 295 
 
 Little by little, I managed to coax him out of 
 himself and the thought of his own misery, and, as 
 I talked to him, I tried to think what could be done 
 for the poor little mite, whose face seemed already 
 to foreshadow the troubles that must come to him 
 by the fatal inheritance of blood. The child was 
 not shy, he was only supremely miserable ; lonely, 
 conscious, horribly conscious, of the suffering and 
 the grief that make so large a part of human life, 
 but from which children in their early youth are 
 protected. While my thoughts were divided be- 
 tween his present and his future, there suddenly 
 returned to me the question, which I had put aside 
 before, of what had sent his father to the gallows, 
 and I said, "What was it your father did ?" 
 
 The child replied, " He killed my m<5ther." 
 
 THE END
 
 THIRD EDITION 
 
 The Real Malay 
 
 Pen Pictures 
 
 BY SIR F. A. SWETTENHAM, K.C.M.G. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 73. net 
 
 "Altogether this book, written by a man who has made a close 
 study of the Malay, and who possesses in a high degree the power of 
 vivid description and subtle analysis of character, will be full of charm 
 to any one who has an eye for the bright lights and deep shadows of 
 the tropic East." Manchester Guardian. 
 
 " 'The Real Malay' gives a charming series of ' Pen Pictures.'" 
 The Times. 
 
 "The book is an extremely interesting one." Guardian. 
 
 "No pen, except that of Mr Conrad, has drawn the Malay character 
 so faithfully or so graphically. To thorough knowledge of the land 
 and its people there is wedded a pleasant, picturesque style, an imagina- 
 tion that is vivid and sometimes wayward, and around all the subtle 
 atmosphere of the silent rivers and swamps of the Archipelago. It is 
 a combination that is very alluring, and we confess to finding Sir Frank 
 Swettenham's book of Malay sketches most fascinating reading." 
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 " Sir Frank Swettenham is much too modest. He recommends his 
 book to those whom sleep has jilted or who woo it in vain. This may 
 be a pretty conceit, but it is certainly not a true description of a very 
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 expression." Morning Post. 
 
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 and illustrating a few of his more noteworthy personal experiences 
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 monkey, which proved fatal to every human being brought within 
 the sphere of its baneful influence, and gave rise to long-protracted 
 litigation." Daily Telegraph. 
 
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 at any time." Vanity Fair. 
 
 JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LTD., VIGO ST., W.i
 
 FIFTH EDITION 
 
 Malay Sketches 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR F. A. SWETTENHAM, K.C.M.G. 
 
 WITH TITLE PAGE AND COVER DESIGNED BY 
 
 PATTEN WILSON 
 
 Crown 8vo. 75. net. 
 
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 introducing us to a new people, and seldom have we the advantage of 
 so admirable a guide." Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
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 illuminative analysis has yet seen the light about that fascinating 
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 about this very attractive volume. Mr Swettenham succeeds in making 
 the life and character of the Malays real to us in a way that so far as 
 we are aware no other writer has done." Publishers' Circular. 
 
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 comparatively unknown land and people for subject-matter, make 
 ' Malay Sketches ' entirely delightful. They are always vivid, always 
 convincing." St James's Budget. 
 
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 upon the mind of the stay-at-home traveller. Stay-at-home though 
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 JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LTD., VIGO ST., W.i
 
 SEVENTH EDITION 
 
 Unaddressed Letters 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR F. A. SWETTENHAM, K.C.M.G. 
 
 Crown 8vo. 75. net 
 
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 appreciation of the essence of things. . . . These ' Letters ' are 
 not all concerned with the East. They touch on love and 
 marriage and daughterhood, and change and coincidences and 
 scandal, and a score of other equally interesting topics. . . . 
 They must be said to be bright, alert, varied, and admirably 
 calculated to give pleasure to idle hours." Daily Mail. 
 
 " The writer is genial : he has a pleasant faculty of generalising, 
 and he notices small things with considerable subtlety. . . . 
 Exceedingly readable." Westminster Gazette. 
 
 "... Contains some very beautiful descriptions of Eastern 
 scenery, as well as passages of delicate humour and unsentimental 
 pathos. " To-Day. 
 
 " His narrative style is admirable, and his episodes are always 
 interesting. One could read for many hours of the clever mongoose, 
 and tigers and crocodiles. . . . The style in which these ' Un- 
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 ham has a pretty humour." Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 "... Deep gratitude is due to Sir Frank Swettenham 
 for giving these letters to the world." Athenaum. 
 
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 tive, sensitive, emotional." Daily Chronicle. 
 
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 FOURTH EDITION 
 
 British Malaya 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS 
 OF BRITISH INFLUENCE IN MALAYA 
 
 BY SIR F. A. SWETTENHAM, K.C.M.G. 
 
 Numerous Illustrations reproduced from Photographs 
 Crown 8vo. 125. 6d. net 
 
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 which are to be found in the present volume. The author under-rates 
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 tion of history and criticism together with a notable and ever-interesting 
 interpretation of Malay character and progress." Manchester Courier. 
 
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 ensure a warm welcome for this handsome volume, in which he offers 
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 that portion of the Far East of which over thirty years of administrative 
 labour have given him a unique knowledge." Daily Telegraph. 
 
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 acquired by long experience in responsible position is beyond question, 
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 JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LTD., VIGO ST., W.i
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 Also and Perhaps 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR F. A. SWETTENHAM, K.C.M.G. 
 
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 . . . His reflections, his beliefs, doubts, and epigrams, he delivers in 
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 idea of what Indian jungles are to the sportsman than this. 
 Mr Stebbing has a vast experience of different Indian jungles." 
 New Statesman. 
 
 JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LID., VIGO ST., W.i
 
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