FWK srnsm s\ wmwm \ _- , lomCIEB . D'flCflOEniE ^ tf= m /B f LIBRARY 1 UNIVERSITY OF ! \CALIFORNIA ,J s MALAY SKETCHES LOJNDOJN . JOHN JANE- TBE BQDLEY HE\D DSsu CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION VS. I. THE REAL MALAY I II. THE TIGER 12 III. A FISHING PICNIC 19 IV. THE MURDER OF THE HAWKER .... 25 V. MENG-GfiLUNCHOR 31 VI. AMOK 3 8 VII. THE J6GET 44 VIII. THE STORY OF MAT ARIS 53 IX. LlTAH 64 X. THE ETERNAL FEMININE 83 XI. IN THE NOON OF NIGHT 92 XII. VAN HAGEN AND CAVALIERO IO3 XIII. THE PASSING OF PftNGLIMA PRANG SftMAUN . .112 XIV. BSR-HANTU 147 XV. THE KING'S WAY l6l XVI. A MALAY ROMANCE 179 XVII. MALAY SUPERSTITIONS . . . . . . 192 XVIII. WITH A CASTING-NET 211 XIX. JAMES WHEELER WOODFORD BIRCH .... 227 XX. A PERSONAL INCIDENT .... .248 XXI. NAKODAH ORLONG 270 XXII. EVENING 28l 467 PREFACE HP 1 HIS is not a book of travels, nor is it, in even * the smallest sense, the record of a traveller's experiences in a foreign land. It is a series of sketches of Malay scenery and Malay character drawn by one who has spent the best part of his life in the scenes and amongst the people described. These pages contain no statistics, no history, no geography, no science, real or spurious, no politics, no moralising, no prophecy, only an attempt to awaken an interest in an almost undescribed but deeply interesting people, the dwellers in one of the most beautiful and least known countries in the East. The traveller will come in time, and he will publish his experiences of Malaya and the Malays ; but while he may look upon the country with a vii PREFACE higher appreciation and paint its features with a more artistic touch, he will see few of those characteristics of the people, none of that inner life which, I make bold to say, is here faithfully por- trayed. FRANK SWETTENHAM. THE RESIDENCY, PERAK, 28 March 1895. vui " Quel est done cc pays, disaient- ils 1'un a 1'autre, inconnu a tout le reste dc la terre, et ou toute la na- ture est d'une espece si differente de la notre?" VOLTAIRE T MAGINE yourself transported to a land of eternal ^ summer, to that Golden Peninsula, 'twixt Hin- dustan and Far Cathay, from whence the early navigators brought back such wondrous stories of adventure. A land where Nature is at her best and richest : where plants and animals, beasts of the forest, birds of the air, and every living thing seem yet inspired with a feverish desire for growth and reproduction, as though they were still in the dawn of Creation. And Man? Yes, he is here. Forgotten by the world, passed by in the race for civilisation, here he has remained IX INTRODUCTION amongst his own forests, by the banks of his well- loved streams, unseeking and unsought. Whence he came none know and few care, but this is the land that has given to, or taken from, him the name of a Race that has spread over a wider area than any other Eastern people. Malaya, land of the pirate and the amok, your secrets have been well guarded, but the enemy has at last passed your gate, and soon the irresistible Juggernaut of Progress will have penetrated to your remotest fastness, slain your beasts, cut down your forests, "civilised" your people, clothed them in strange garments, and stamped them with the seal of a higher morality. That time of regeneration will come rapidly, but for the moment the Malay of the Peninsula is as he has been these hundreds of years. Education and contact with Western people must produce the inevitable result. Isolated native races whose numbers are few must disappear or conform to the views of a stronger will and a higher intelligence. The Malays of the Peninsula will not disappear, INTRODUCTION but they will change, and the process of " awaken- ing" has in places already begun. It might be rash to speculate on the gain which the future has in store for this people, but it is hardly likely to make them more personally inter- esting to the observer. This is the moment of transition, and these are sketches of the Malay as he is. Jetons-nous dans cette petite barque, laissons-nous aller au courant ! une riviere mene toujours a quelque endroit habite } si nous ne trouvons pas cies choses agreables, nous trouverons du moins lies choses nouvelles " ' Alions,' dit Candide, ' recommandons-nous a la Providence ' " VOLTAIRE MALAY SKETCHES i THE REAL MALAY He was the mildest manner' d man That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat BYRON, Don Juan TO begin to understand the Malay you must live in his country, speak his language, respect his faith, be interested in his interests, humour his prejudices, sympathise with and help him in trouble, and share his pleasures and possibly his risks. Only thus can you hope to win his confidence. Only through that confidence can you hope to under- stand the inner man, and this knowledge can there- fore only come to those who have the opportunity and use it. So far the means of studying Malays in their own country (where alone they are seen in their true MALAY SKETCHES character) have fallen to few Europeans, and a very small proportion of them have shown an inclination to get to the hearts of the people. There are a hundred thousand Malays in Perak and some more in other parts of the Peninsula ; and the white man, whose interest in the race is strong enough, may not only win confidence but the devotion that is ready to give life itself in the cause of friendship. The Scripture says : "There is no greater thing than this," and in the end of the nineteenth century that is a form of friendship all too rare. Fortunately this is a thing you cannot buy, but to gain it is worth some effort. The real Malay is a short, thick-set, well-built man, with straight black hair, a dark brown com- plexion, thick nose and lips, and bright intelligent eyes. His disposition is generally kindly, his manners are polite and easy. Never cringing, he is reserved with strangers and suspicious, though he does not show it. He is courageous and trust- worthy in the discharge of an undertaking ; but he is extravagant, fond of borrowing money, and very slow in repaying it. He is a good talker, speaks in parables, quotes proverbs and wise saws, has a strong sense of humour, and is very fond of a good joke. He takes an interest in the affairs of his neighbours THE REAL MALAY and is consequently a gossip. He is a Muhammadan and a fatalist, but he is also very superstitious. He never drinks intoxicants, he is rarely an opium- smoker. But he is fond of gambling, cock-fighting, and kindred sports. He is by nature a sportsman, catches and tames elephants, is a skilful fisherman, and thoroughly at home in a boat. Above all things, he is conservative to a degree, is proud and fond of his country and his people, venerates his ancient customs and traditions, fears his Rajas, and has a proper respect for constituted authority while he looks askance on all innovations, and will resist their sudden introduction. But if he has time to examine them carefully, and they are not thrust upon him, he is willing to be convinced of their advantage. At the same time he is a good imitative learner, and, when he has energy and ambition enough for the task, makes a good mechanic. He is, however, lazy to a degree, is without method or order of any kind, knows no regularity even in the hours of his meals, and considers time as of no im- portance. His house is untidy, even dirty, but he bathes twice a day, and is very fond of personal adornment in the shape of smart clothes. A Malay is intolerant of insult or slight ; it is something that to him should be wiped out in 3 MALAY SKETCHES blood. He will brood over a real or fancied stain on his honour until he is possessed by the desire for revenge. If he cannot wreak it on the offender, he will strike out at the first human being that comes in his way, male or female, old or young. It is this state of blind fury, this vision of blood, that produces the amok. The Malay has often been called treacherous. I question whether he deserves the reproach more than other men. He is courteous and expects courtesy in return, and he understands only one method of avenging personal insults. The spirit of the clan is also strong in him. He acknowledges the necessity of carrying out, even blindly, the orders of his hereditary chief, while he will protect his own relatives at all costs and make their quarrel his own. The giving of gifts by Raja to subject, or subject to ruler, is a custom now falling into desuetude, but it still prevails on the occasion of the accession of a Raja, the appointment of high officers, a marriage, a circumcision, ear-piercing, or similar ceremony. As with other Eastern people, hospitality is to the Malay a sacred duty fulfilled by high and low, rich and poor alike. Though the Malay is an Islam by profession, and would suffer crucifixion sooner than deny his faith, 4 THE REAL MALAY he is not a bigot ; indeed, his tolerance compares favourably with that of the professing Christian, and, when he thinks of these matters at all, he believes that the absence of hypocrisy is the begin- ning of religion. He has a sublime faith in God, the immortality of the soul, a heaven of ecstatic earthly delights, and a hell of punishments, which every individual is so confident will not be his own portion that the idea of its existence presents no terrors. Christian missionaries of all denominations have apparently abandoned the hope of his conversion. In his youth, the Malay boy is often beautiful, a thing of wonderful eyes, eyelashes, and eyebrows, with a far-away expression of sadness and solemnity, as though he had left some better place for a com- pulsory exile on earth. Those eyes, which are extraordinarily large and clear, seem filled with a pained wonder at all they see here, and they give the impression of a constant effort to open ever wider and wider in search of something they never find. Unlike the child of Japan, this cherub never looks as if his nurse had forgotten to wipe his nose. He is treated with elaborate respect, sleeps when he wishes, and sits up till any hour of the night if he so desires, eats 5 MALAY SKETCHES when he is hungry, has no toys, is never whipped, and hardly ever cries. Until he is fifteen or sixteen, this atmosphere of a better world remains about him. He is often studious even, and duly learns to read the Koran in a language he does not understand. Then, well then, from sixteen to twenty-five or later he is to be avoided. He takes his pleasure, sows his wild oats like youths of a higher civilisa- tion, is extravagant, open-handed, gambles, gets into debt, runs away with his neighbour's wife, and generally asserts himself. Then follows a period when he either adopts this path and pursues it, or, more commonly, he weans himself gradually from an indulgence that has not altogether realized his expectation, and if, under the advice of older men, he seeks and obtains a position of credit and use- fulness in society from which he begins at last to earn some profit, he will, from the age of forty, probably develop into an intelligent man of miserly and rather grasping habits with some one little pet indulgence of no very expensive kind. The Malay girl-child is not usually so attractive in appearance as the boy, and less consideration is shown to her. She runs wild till the time comes for investing her in a garment, that is to say when THE REAL MALAY she is about five years old. From then, she is taught to help in the house and kitchen, to sew, to read and write, perhaps to work in the padi field, but she is kept out of the way of all strange men- kind. When fifteen or sixteen, she is often almost interesting ; very shy, very fond of pretty clothes and ornaments, not uncommonly much fairer in complexion than the Malay man, with small hands and feet, a happy smiling face, good teeth, and wonderful eyes and eyebrows the eyes of the little Malay boy. The Malay girl is proud of a wealth of straight, black hair, of a spotless olive com- plexion, of the arch of her brow " like a one-day- old moon " of the curl of her eyelashes, and of the dimples in cheek or chin. Unmarried girls are taught to avoid all men except those nearly related to them. Until mar- riage, it is considered unmaidenly for them to raise their eyes or take any part or interest in their surroundings when men are present. This leads to an affectation of modesty which, however over- strained, deceives nobody. After marriage, a woman gets a considerable amount of freedom which she naturally values. In Perak a man, who tries to shut his womenkind up and prevent their intercourse with others and a 7 MALAY SKETCHES participation in the fetes and pleasures of Malay society, is looked upon as a jealous, ill-conditioned person. Malays are extremely particular about questions of rank and birth, especially when it comes to marriage, and mesalliances, as understood in the West, are with them very rare. The general characteristics of Malay women, especially those of gentle birth, are powers of intelligent conversation, quickness in repartee, a strong sense of humour and an instant appreciation of the real meaning of those hidden sayings which are hardly ever absent from their conversation. They are fond of reading such literature as their language offers, and they use uncommon words and expressions, the meanings of which are hardly known to men. For the telling of secrets, they have several modes of speech not understanded of the people. They are generally amiable in disposition, mildly sometimes fiercely jealous, often extravagant and, up to about the age of forty, evince an increasing fondness for jewellery and smart clothes. In these latter days they are developing a pretty taste for horses, carriages, and whatever conduces to luxury and display, though, in their houses, there THE REAL MALAY are still a rugged simplicity and untidiness, absolutely devoid of all sense of order. A Malay is allowed by law to have as many as four wives, to divorce them, and replace them. If he is well off and can afford so much luxury, he usually takes advantage of the power to marry more than one wife, to divorce and secure successors; but he seldom undertakes the responsibility of four wives at one time. The woman on her part can, and often does, obtain a divorce from her husband. Written conditions of marriage, " settlements " of a kind, are common with people in the upper classes, and the law provides for the custody of children, division of property, and so on. The ancient maiden lady is an unknown quantity, so is the Malay public woman ; and, as there is no society bugbear, the people lead lives that are almost natural. There are no drunken husbands, no hob- nail boots, and no screaming viragoes because a word would get rid of them. All forms of mad- ness, mania, and brain-softening are extremely rare. The Malay has ideas on the subject of marriage, ideas born of his infinite experience. He has even soared into regions of matrimonial philosophy, and returned with such crumbs of lore as never fall to the poor monogamist. 9 MALAY SKETCHES I am not going to give away the secrets of the life behind the curtain ; if I wished to do so I might trip over difficulties of expression ; but in spite of the Malay's reputation for bloodthirstiness, in spite of (or because of, whichever you please) the fact that he is impregnated with the doctrines of Islam, in spite of his sensitive honour and his proneness to revenge, and in spite of his desire to keep his own women (when young and attractive) away from the prying eyes of other men, he yet holds this uncommon faith, that if he has set his affections on a woman, and for any reason he is unable at once to make her his own, he cares not to how many others she allies herself provided she becomes his before time has robbed her of her physical attractions. His reason is this. He says (certainly not to a stranger, rarely even to his Malay friends, but to himself) " if, after all this experience, she likes me best, I have no fear that she will wish to go further afield. All Malay girls marry before they are twenty, and the woman who has only known one husband, however attractive he may be, will come sooner -or later to the conviction that life with another promises new and delightful experiences not found in the society of the first man to whom 10 THE REAL MALAY destiny and her relatives have chosen to unite her. Thus some fool persuades her that in his worship and passion she will find the World's Desire, and it is only after perhaps a long and varied experience that she realizes that, having started for a voyage on the ocean, she finds herself seated at the bottom of a dry well." It is possible that thus she becomes acquainted with truth. ii II THE TIGER Yon golden terror, barred with ebon stripes Low-crouching horror, with the cruel fangs Waiting in deathly stillness for thy spring ANON. SOME idea of what Malays are in their own country may best be conveyed by taking the reader in imagination through some scenes of their daily life. The tiger, for instance, is seldom delibe- rately sought ; if he kills a buffalo a spring gun is set to shoot him when he returns for his afternoon meal, but sometimes the tiger comes about a village, and it is necessary to get rid of so dangerous a visitor. Let me try and put the scene before you. But how describe an Eastern dawn ? Sight alone will give a true impression of its strange beauty. Out of darkness and stillness, the transi- 12 THE TIGER tion to light intense brilliant light and the sounds of awakened life, is rapid and complete, a short half hour or less turning night into tropical day. The first indication of dawn is a grey haze, then the clouds clothing the Western hills are shot with pale yellow and in a few minutes turn to gold, while Eastern ranges are still in darkness. The light spreads to the Western slopes, moves rapidly across the valleys, and suddenly the sun, a great ball of fire, appears above the Eastern hills. The fogs, which have risen from the rivers and marshes and covered the land, as with a pall, rise like smoke and disappear, and the whole face of nature is flooded with light, the valleys and slopes of the Eastern ranges being the last to feel the influence of the risen sun. That grey half-light which precedes dawn is the signal for Malays to be stirring. The doors are opened, and, only half awake and shivering in the slight breeze made by the rising fog, they leave their houses and make for the nearest stream, there to bathe and fetch fresh water for the day's use. A woman dressed in the sdrong, a plaid skirt of silk or cotton, and a jacket, walks rapidly to the river, carrying a long bamboo and some gourds, which, after her bath, she fills, and begins to walk 13 MALAY SKETCHES home through the wealth of vegetation that clothes the whole face of the country. She follows a narrow path up from the bed of the clear stream, the jungle trees and orchards, the long rank grasses and tangled creepers almost hiding the path. Suddenly she stops spellbound, her knees give way under her, the vessels drop from her nerveless hands, and a speech- less fear turns her blood to water ; for there, in front of her, is a great black and yellow head with cruel yellow eyes, and a half-open mouth showing a red tongue and long white teeth. The shoulders and fore feet of the tiger stand clear of the thick foliage, and a hoarse low roar of surprise and anger comes from the open mouth. An exceeding great fear chains the terrified woman to the spot, and the tiger, thus faced, sulkily and with more hoarse grumbling, slowly draws back into the jungle and disappears. Then the instinct of self-preservation returns to the woman, and, with knees still weak and a cold hand on her heart, she stumbles, with what speed she may, back to the river, down the bank, and to the friendly shelter of the nearest dwelling. It takes little time to tell the story, and the men of the house, armed with spears and krises and an old rusty gun, quickly spread the news throughout THE TIGER the kampong, as each cluster of huts and orchards is called. Every one arms himself with such weapons as he possesses, the boys of sixteen or seventeen climb into trees, from which they hope to see and be able to report the movements of the beast. The men, marshalled by the ka-tua kampong, the village chief, make their plans for surrounding the spot where the tiger was seen, and word is sent by messenger to the nearest police- station and European officer. Whilst all this is taking place, the tiger, probably conscious that too many people are about, leaves his lair and stealthily creeps along a path which will lead him far from habitations. But, as he does so, he passes under a tree where sits one of the young watchmen, and the boy, seizing his opportunity, drops a heavy spear on the tiger as he passes, and gives him a serious wound. The beast, with a roar of pain, leaps into the jungle, carrying the spear with him ; and, after what he considers a safe interval, the boy climbs down, gets back to the circle of watchers, and reports what has occurred. For a long time, there is silence, no one caring to go in and seek a wounded tiger but this monotony is broken rudely and suddenly by a shot on the out- skirts of the wide surrounding ring of beaters where MALAY SKETCHES a young Malay has been keeping guard over a jungle track. Instantly the nearest rush to the spot only to find the boy badly wounded, after firing a shot that struck the tiger but did not pre- vent him reaching and pulling down the youth who fired it. Hardly has a party carried the wounded man to shelter, than news arrives that, in trying to break the ring at another point, the tiger has sprung upon the point of a spear held in rest by a kneeling Malay, and, the spear, passing completely through the beast's body, the tiger has come down on the man's back and killed him. The old men say it is because, regardless of the wisdom of their ancestors, fools now face a tiger with spears unguarded, whereas in the olden time it was always the custom to tie a crosspiece of wood where blade joins shaft to pre- vent the tiger " running up the spear" and killing his opponent. The game is getting serious now and the tiger has retired to growl and roar in a thick isolated copse of bushes and tangled undergrowth from which it seems impossible to draw him, and where it would be madness to seek him. By this time, all the principal people in the neigh- bourhood have been collected. The copse is sur- 16 THE TIGER rounded and two elephants are ridden at the cover, in the hope of driving the wounded tiger from his shelter. A vain hope, for, when the huge beasts get inconveniently near to him, the tiger, with a great roar, springs on to the shoulder of the nearest elephant and brings him to his knees. The terrified occupants of the howdah are thus deposited on the ground, but lose no time in picking themselves up and getting away. The elephant with a scream of terror whirls round, throwing off the tiger with a broken tooth, and, accompanied by his fellow, rushes from the place and will not be stopped till several miles have been covered and the river is between them and their enemy. Severe maladies want desperate and heroic remedies. After a short consultation, a young Malay chief and several of his friends, armed only with spears, express their determination to seek the tiger where he lies. They immediately put the plan into execution. Shoulder to shoulder and with spears in rest, they advance to the copse. They have not long to wait in doubt for the wounded and enraged beast, with open mouth and eyes blazing fell purpose, charges straight at them. There is the shock of flesh against steel, an awful snarling and straining of muscles and the already badly wounded 17 B MALAY SKETCHES tiger is pinned to the ground and dies under the thrusts of many spears. The general result of a tiger hunt, under such circumstances, is the death or serious injury of one or two of the pursuers. 18 Ill A FISHING PICNIC I have given you lands to hunt in, I have given you streams to fish in, Filled the river full of fishes LONGFELLOW NOW come to a Malay picnic. Again, it is early morning, the guests have been invited overnight and warned to come on their elephants and bring " rice and salt." By the time the sun is well up there are fifty or sixty people (of whom about half are women), mounted on twelve or fifteen elephants, and some boys and followers are prepared to walk. The word is given to make for a great limestone hill rising abruptly out of the plain, for, close round the foot of this rock, eating its way into the unexplored depths of subaqueous caves, flows a clear mountain-bred stream, and, in the silent pools which lie under the shadow of the cliff, are the fish 19 MALAY SKETCHES which with the rice and salt, will make the coming feast. The road lies through six or seven miles of open country and virgin forest, and it is 9 or IO A.M. before the river is reached, the elephants hobbled, and the men of the party ready for business. In days gone by, the method would have been to tuba the stream above a pool, but this poisoning of the water affects the river for miles, and dynamite which is not nearly so destructive is preferred. The plan is to select a large and deep pool round which the men stand ready to spring in, while the women make a cordon across the shallow at its lower end, ready to catch the fish that escape the hands of the swimmers. Two cartridges of dynamite with a de- tonator and a piece of slow match are tied to a stone and thrown into the deepest part of the pool, there is an explosion sending up a great column of water, and immediately the dead fish come to the surface and begin to float down stream. Twenty men spring into the pool, and with shouts and laughter struggle for the slippery fish ; those which elude the grasp of the swimmers are caught by the women. It will then be probably discovered that no very big fish have been taken ; and, as it is certain that some 20 A FISHING PICNIC at least should be there, the boldest and best divers will search the bottom of the pool and even look into the water-filled caves of the rock that there rises sheer out of the stream. Success rewards this effort, and, from the bed of the pool, some sixteen or eighteen feet deep, the divers bring up two at a time, great silvery fish weighing ten to fifteen pounds each. There is much joy over the capture of these klah and tengas, the best kinds of fresh water fish known here, and, if the total take is not a large one, the operation will be repeated in another and yet another pool, until a sufficient quantity of fish has been secured and every one is tired of the water. There is a general change of wet garments for dry ones, no difficult matter, while long before this fires have been made on the bank, rice is boiling, fish are roasting in split sticks, grilling, frying, and the hungry company is settling itself in groups ready for the meal. It is a matter of honour that no plates should be used, so every one has a piece of fresh green plantain leaf to hold his rice and salt and fish, while nature supplies the forks and spoons. Whether it is the exercise, the excitement, or the coldness of the two hours' bath, that is most re- sponsible for the keen appetites is not worth 21 MALAY SKETCHES inquiring, but thorough justice is done to the food ; and if you, reader, should ever be fortunate enough to take part in one of these picnics, you will declare that you never before realised how delicious a meal can be made of such simple ingredients. Some one has smuggled in a few condiments and they add largely to the success of the Malay bouille-abaisse, but people affect not to know they are there, and you go away assured that rice and salt did it all. That is part of the game. And now it is time to return, the sun has long passed the meridian, and there is a mile or two of forest before getting into the open country. The timid amongst the ladies feign alarm (Malays are sensible people who take only the young to picnics, and leave the old to mind the houses), and a desire to get away at once, but there are others who know what is in store for them. The elephants are brought up and each pannier is found to be loaded with jungle fruit, large and small, ripe and unripe, hard and soft, but generally hard as stones. Every one knows the meaning of this and, as the elephants kneel down to take their riders, you may observe that usually two men sit in front, two women behind, and the latter are anxious about their umbrellas and show a tendency to open 22 A FISHING PICNIC them here where, in the gloom of the forest, they are not needed. The first two or three elephants move off quickly, and, having turned a corner in the path, disappear. It is necessary to proceed in Indian file, and as the next elephant comes to this corner he and his company are assailed by a perfect shower of missiles (the jungle fruit) from the riders of the first section of elephants who are slily waiting here to surprise those behind. The attack is returned with interest and the battle wages hot and furious. The leaders of the rear column try to force their way past those who dispute the path with them, and either succeed or put the enemy to flight only to find a succession of ambuscades laid for them, each resulting in a deadly struggle, and so, throughout the length of the forest, the more venturesome pushing their way to the front or taking up an independent line and making enemies of all comers, until, at last, the whole party clears the jungle and, taking open order, a succession of wild charges soon gets every one into the fray and, the supply of am- munition having run out, there is nothing left but to count the damage done. It is principally in broken umbrellas which have been used as shields, but some garments are stained, and there may be a few bruises treated with much 23 MALAY SKETCHES good humour, and, by the time the party has straightened its dishevelledness, it is found that miles of otherwise tedious journey have been passed and every one is home ere the lengthening shadows suddenly contract and tell the sun has set. 24 IV THE MURDER OF THE HAWKER It is a damned and bloody work, The graceless action of a heavy hand King John ONE afternoon, in 1892, a foreign Malay named Lenggang, who made a living by hawking in a boat on the Perak River, left Bota with his usual cargo and a hundred dollars which his cousin, the son of the Penghulu, had been keeping for him. He was alone in the boat and dropped down stream, saying he would call at some of the villages that line at intervals the banks of the river. The next day this man's dead body, lying partly under a mosquito curtain, was discovered in the boat as it drifted past the village of Pulau Tiga. The local headman viewed it, but saw nothing to arouse his suspicions, for the boat was full of valuables and a certain amount of money, while nothing in it seemed to have been disturbed, and 25 MALAY SKETCHES there were no marks of violence on the corpse, which was duly buried. When the matter was reported, inquiries were made but they elicited nothing. Some months after the relatives of the dead man appeared at Teluk Anson, and said they had good reason to believe that he had met with foul play, indeed that he had been murdered at a place called Lambor a few miles below Bota and above Pulau Tiga. An intelligent Malay sergeant of police proceeded to the spot, arrested a number of people, who denied all 'know- ledge of the affair, and took them to Teluk Anson. Arrived there, these people said they were able to give all the necessary information if that would procure their release, as they had only promised to keep their mouths shut so long as they themselves did not suffer for it. The details of the story as told in evidence are as follows, and they are very characteristic of the Malay : It appears that the hawker duly arrived in his boat at Lambor, and there tied up for the night to a stake, about twenty feet from the bank of the river. Shortly afterwards a Malay named Ngah Prang, stopped three of his acquaintances walking on the bank, asked them if they had seen the 26 THE MURDER OF THE HAWKER hawker's boat, and suggested that it would be a good thing to rob him. They said they were afraid, and some other men coming up asked one of those to whom the proposal had been mad v e what they were talking about, and, being told, advised him to have nothing to do with the business and the party dispersed. That evening, at 8 P.M., several people heard cries of " help, help, I am being killed," from the river, and five or six men ran out of their houses down* to the bank, a distance of only fifty yards, whence they saw, in the brilliant moonlight, Ngah Prang and two other men in the hawker's boat, the hawker lying flat on his back while one man had both hands at his throat, another held his wrists, and the third his feet ; but it is said that those on the bank heard a noise of rapping as though feet were kicking or hands beating quickly the deck of the boat. It only lasted for a moment and then there was silence. As those who had been roused by the cries came down the bank they called to the men in the boat, barely twenty feet away, and lighted at their work by the brilliancy of an Eastern moon, to know what they were doing ; they even addressed them by their names, but these gave no answer, and, getting 27 MALAY SKETCHES up from off the hawker, untied the boat, one taking a pole and another the rudder and disappeared down the river. The hawker did not move. He was dead. The witnesses of this tragedy appear then to have returned to their homes and slept peacefully. Several of them naively remarked that they heard the next day that the hawker had been found dead in his boat, and it appears that when one of these witnesses, on the following day, met one of the murderers, he asked him what he was doing in Lenggang's boat, and the man replied that they were robbing him, that he held the hawker by the throat, the others by the hands and feet, but that really they had got very little for their trouble. Meanwhile the three murderers told several of the eye-witnesses of the affair that, if they said anything, it would be the worse for them, and nothing particular occurred till a notice was posted in the Mosque calling upon any one who knew anything about Lenggang's death to report it to the village Headman. Then Ngah Prang, who appa- rently was the original instigator of the job, as so often happens, thought he would save himself at the expense of his friends, and actually went himself to make a report, and, meeting on the way one of the 28 THE MURDER OF THE HAWKER eye-witnesses going on a similar errand, he per- suaded him to give a qualified promise to help in denying Ngah Prang's complicity while convicting the others. Needless to say that, from the moment the first disclosure was made and communicated to the police, resulting in the arrest of a number of those who had actually witnessed the crime, every smallest detail was gradually brought to light, the hawker's property, even his own clothes, gradually recovered, the money stolen from him traced, and no single link left wanting in the chain of evidence strong enough to convict and hang the guilty men. That indeed was the result. I have told the story of this crime, which is devoid of sensational incident, because it will give some idea of the state of feeling in a real Malay kampong of poor labouring people far from any outside influence. The man murdered was a Malay ; the idea that he was worth something which could be obtained by the insignificant sacrifice of his life seems to have at once suggested that Providence was putting a good thing in the way of poor people, and those who were not afraid determined that the opportunity was not to be lost. The murder is discussed practically in public ; it is executed also 29 MALAY SKETCHES in public, in the presence of a feebly expostulating opposition, and then every one goes to bed. The only further concern of the community in the matter is as to how much the murderers got. For them the incident encls there, and, if any one has any qualms of conscience, they are silenced by the threats of the men who so easily throttled the hawker. It is only when inquiries are pushed, and things are made generally unpleasant for every one, that the truth is unwillingly disclosed, and the penalty paid. V MENG-GELUNCHOR And falling and crawling and sprawl- ing, And driving and riving and striving, And sprinkling and twinkling and winkling, And sounding and bounding and rounding, Dividing and gliding and sliding, And trumping and plumping and bumping and jumping, And dashing and flashing and splash- ing and clashing SOUTHEY THE Malays of Perak occasionally indulge them- selves in a form of amusement which, I believe, is peculiar to them. Though of ancient origin, it is not well known even here, and, as new sensations are the desire of our time, I offer it to the jaded pleasure-seekers of the West. Given a fine sunny morning (and that is what most mornings are in Perak) you will drive four or 31 MALAY SKETCHES five miles to the appointed place of meeting, and there find a crowd of one or two hundred Malay men, women, and children, who have been duly bidden to meng-gelunchor and to take part in the picnic which forms a recognised accompaniment to the proceedings. A walk of a couple of miles along a shady jungle path brings the party to the foot of a spur of hills, whence a clear mountain stream leaps down a suc- cession of cascades to fertilise the plain. There is a stiff climb for several hundred feet until the party gains a great granite rock in the bed of the stream, large enough to accommodate a much more numerous gathering. In a " spate " this rock might be covered, but now the water flows round it and dashes itself wildly over the falls below. Up- stream, however, there is a sheer smooth face of granite, about sixty feet long, inclined at an angle of say 45, and, while the main body of water finds its way down one side of this rock and then across its foot, a certain quantity, only an inch or two deep, flows steadily down the face. The depth of water here can be increased at will by bamboo troughs, leading out of the great pool which lies at the head of the waterfall. At the base of the rock is an in- viting lynn not more than four feet deep. On either 32 MENG-GELUNCHOR side, the river is shut in by a wealth of jungle- foliage through which the sun strikes at rare intervals, just sufficiently to give the sense of warmth and colour. It is delightfully picturesque with all these people in their many-coloured garments, grouped in artistic confusion, on bank and rock. They only sit for a brief rest after the climb, to collect wood, make fires and get the work of cooking started, and you will not be left long in doubt as to the meaning of meng-gelunchor. It is to slide, and the game is to* " toboggan" down this waterfall into the lynn at its* base. A crowd of little boys is already walking up the steep, slippery rock. They go to the very top, sit down in the shallow water with feet straight out in front of them and a hand on either side for guidance, and immediately begin to slide down the sixty feet of height, gaining, before they have gone half way, so great a speed that the final descent into the pool is like the fall of a stone. They succeed each other in a constant stream, those behind coming on the top of those who have already reached the lynn. But now the men, and lastly the women, are drawn to join the sliders and the fun becomes indeed both fast and furious. The women begin timidly, only 33 c MALAY SKETCHES half way up the slide, but soon grow bolder, and mixed parties of four, six, and eight in rows of two, three, or four each, start together and, with a good deal of laughter and ill-directed attempts at mutual assistance, dash wildly into the pool which is almost constantly full of a struggling, screaming crowd of young people of both sexes. If you understand the game, the slide is a graceful progress, but, if you don't, if you fail to sit erect, if you do not keep your feet together, above all, if you lose your balance and do not remain absolutely straight on the slide, then your descent will be far from graceful, it may even be slightly painful, and the final plunge into the lynn will be distinctly undignified. It is well to leave your dignity at home, if you go to meng-gtlunchor with a Malay party, for those who do not weary themselves with tobogganing become absolutely exhausted with laughing at the sliders. The fascination of the thing is extraordinary, and, to read this poor de- scription, you would think it impossible that any sane person would spend hours in struggling up a steep and slippery rock to slide down it on two inches of water, and, having gained a startling velocity, leap into a shallow pool where half a dozen people will be on you before you can get out of the 34 MENG-GELUNCHOR way. And yet I am persuaded that, if your joints are not stiff with age and you are not afraid of cold water, or ridicule, or personal damage (and you will admit none of those things) you would mng- gelunchor with the best of them, nor be the first to cry " hold, enough." It is usual for the men, when sliding down the rock, to sit upon a piece of the thick fibre of the plantain called upih. It is perhaps advisable, but the women do not seem to want it. It is surprising that there are so few casualties and of such small importance some slight abrasions, a little bumping of heads, at most the loss of a tooth, will be the extent of the total damage, and with a little care there need be none at all. By I P.M. every one will probably be tired, dry garments are donned, and a very hungry company does ample justice to the meal. An hour will be spent in smoking and gossip, and, as the shadows begin to lengthen, a long procession slowly wends its way back, down the slippery descent, across the sunny fields, and through the forest, to the trysting- place where all met in the morning and whence they now return to their own homes. The intelligent reader will realise that this is a game abounding in possibilities, but the players 35 MALAY SKETCHES should be chosen with discrimination and with due regard to individual affinities. A sunny climate and surroundings of natural beauty are necessary ; but a wooded ravine on the Riviera or by the shore of an Italian lake, a clear stream leaping down a steep rocky bed, and the rest can be easily arranged by a little cutting and polishing of stone. Besides the novelty and charm of the exercise, the exhilarating motion, the semblance of danger, the clutchings at the nearest straws for help there are infinite opportunities for designing and donning attractive garments wherein the graceful lines of the human form would be less jealously hidden than in the trappings of stern convention. Puffed sleeves and a bell skirt, Louis XIV. heels and an eighteen inch waist, would be incon- venient and out of place when sliding down a waterfall in the hope of a safe and graceful plunge into a shallow lynn. But if the company be well chosen, the venue and the climate such as can be found at a hundred places between St. Tropez and Salerno, if there is in the costumes and the luncheon only a fair appli- cation of Art to Nature, the Eastern pastime is capable of easy and successful acclimatisation in 3* MENG-GELUNCHOR the West. And as the knights and dames stroll slowly down the wooded glen, and the sinking sun strikes long shafts of light across their path, glorifying all colours, not least the tint of hair and eyes, the pleasure-seekers, if they have not by then found some more mutually interesting topic, will be very unanimous in their praise of Mtng-gtlunchor. 37 VI AMOK There comes a time When the insatiate brute within the man, Weary with wallowing in the mire, leaps forth Devouring .... and the soul sinks And leaves the man a devil LEWIS MORRIS MENTION has been made of the Malay amok, and, as what, with our happy faculty for mispronunciation and misspelling of the words of other languages, is called "running amuck," is with many English people their only idea of the Malay, and that a very vague one, it may be of interest to briefly describe this form of homicidal mania. Mtng-dmok is to make a sudden, murderous attack, and though it is applied to the onslaught of a body of men in war time, or where plunder is the object and murder the means to arrive at it, the term is more commonly used to describe the action of an individual who, suddenly and without apparent cause, seizes a weapon and strikes out blindly, kill- 38 AMOK ing and wounding all who come in his way, regard- less of age or sex, whether they be friends, strangers, or his own nearest relatives. Just before sunset on the evening of the 1 1 th February, 1891, a Malay named Imam Mamat (that is Mamat the priest) came quietly into the house of his brother-in-law at Pasir Garam on the Perak River, carrying a spear and a golok, i.e. a sharp, pointed cutting knife. The Imam went up to his brother-in-law, took his hand and asked his pardon. He then approached his own wife and similarly asked her pardon, imme- diately stabbing her fatally in the abdomen with the golok. She fell, and her brother, rushing to assist her, received a mortal wound in the heart. The brother-in-law's wife was in the house with four children, and they managed to get out before the Imam had time to do more than stab the last of them, a boy, in the back as he left the door. At this moment, a man, who had heard the screams of the women, attempted to enter the house, when the Imam rushed at him and inflicted a slight wound, the man falling to the ground and getting away. Having secured two more spears which he found in the house, the murderer now gave chase to, the woman and her three little children and made short 39 MALAY SKETCHES work of them. A tiny girl of four years old and a boy of seven were killed, while the third child received two wounds in the back ; a spear thrust disposed of the mother all this within one hundred yards of the house. The Imam now walked down the river bank, where he was met by a friend named Uda Majid, rash enough to think his unarmed influence would prevail over the other's madness. He greeted the Imam respectfully, and said, "You recognise me, don't let there be any trouble." The Imam replied, " Yes, I know you, but my -spear does not," and immediately stabbed him twice. Though terribly injured, Uda Majid wrested the spear from the Imam, who again stabbed him twice, this time in lung and windpipe, and he fell. Another man coming up ran unarmed to the assistance of Uda Majid, when the murderer turned on the new- comer and pursued him ; but, seeing Uda Majid get up and attempt to stagger away, the Imam went back to him and, with two more stabs in the back, killed him. Out of the six wounds inflicted on this man three would have proved fatal. The murderer now rushed along the river bank, and was twice seen to wade far out into the water and return. Then he was lost sight of. 40 AMOK By this time the news had spread up stream and down, and every one was aware that there was abroad an armed man who would neither give nor receive quarter. For two days, a body of not less than two hundred armed men under the village chiefs made ceaseless but unavailing search for the murderer. At 6 P.M. on the second day, Imam Mamat suddenly appeared in front of the house of a man called Lasam, who had barely time to slam the door in his face and fasten it. The house at that moment contained four men, five women, and seven children, and the only weapon they possessed was one spear. Lasam asked the Imam what he wanted, and he said he wished to be allowed to sleep in the house. He was told he could do so if he would throw away his arms, and to this the Imam replied by an attempt to spear Lasam through the window. The latter, however, seized the weapon, and with the help of his son, wrested it out of the Imam's hands, Lasam receiving a stab in the face from the golok. During this struggle, the Imam had forced himself halfway through the window, and Lasam seizing his own spear, thrust it into the thigh of the murderer, who fell to the ground. In the fall, the shaft of the spear broke off, leaving the blade in the wound. 41 MALAY SKETCHES It was now pitch dark, and, as the people of the house did not know the extent of the Imam's injury or what he was doing, a man went out by the back to spread the news and call the village headman. On his arrival the light of a torch showed the Imam lying on the ground with his weapons out of reach, and the headman promptly pounced upon him and secured him. The Imam was duly handed over to the police and conveyed to Teluk Anson, but he died from loss of blood within twenty-four hours of receiving his wound. Here is the official list of killed and wounded KILLED. Alang Rasak, wife of Imam Mamat aged 33 Bilal Abu, brother-in-law of Mamat 35 Ngah Intan, wife of Bilal Abu . 32 Puteh, daughter of Bilal Abu . ,, 4 Mumin, son of Bilal Abu . 7 Uda Majid . . . . . 35 WOUNDED. Kasim, son of Bilal Abu . . aged 14 Teh, daughter of Bilal Abu . 6 Mat Sah . . . . 45 Lasam ..... 42 AMOK It is terrible to have to add that both the women were far advanced in pregnancy. Imam Mamat was a man of over forty years of age, of good repute with his neighbours, and I never heard any cause suggested why this quiet, elderly man of devotional habits should suddenly, without apparent reason, develop the most inhuman instincts and brutally murder a number of men, women, and children, his nearest relatives and friends. It is, however, quite possible that the man was suffer- ing under the burden of some real or fancied wrong which, after long brooding, darkened his eyes and possessed him with this insane desire to kill. An autopsy was performed on the murderer's body, and the published report of the surgeon says : " I hereby certify that I this day made a post-mortem examination of the body of Imam Mahomed, and find him to have died from haemorrhage from a wound on the outer side of right thigh ; the internal organs were healthy except that the membranes of the right side of brain were more adherent than usual." 43 VII THE JOGET Every footstep fell as lightly As a sunbeam on the river LONGFELLOW'S Spanish Student MALAYS are not dancers, but they pay profes- sional performers to dance for their amuse- ment, and consider that " the better part " is with those who watch, at their ease, the exertions of a small class whose members are not held in the highest respect. The spectacle usually provided is strangely wanting in attraction ; a couple of women shuffling their feet, and swaying their hands in gestures that are practically devoid of grace or even variety that is the Malay dance and it is accom- panied by the beating of native drums, the striking together of two short sticks held in either hand, and the occasional boom of a metal gong. The enter- tainment has an undoubted fascination for Malays, but it generally forms part of a theatrical perform- 44 THE JOGET ance, and for Western spectators it is immeasur- ably dull. In one of the Malay States, however, Pahang, it has for years been the custom for. the ruler and one or two of his near relatives to keep trained dancing girls, who perform what is called the " Joget " a real dance with an accompaniment of something like real music, though the orchestral instruments are very rude indeed. The dancers, budak joget y belong to the Raja's household, they may even be attached to him by a closer tie ; they perform seldom, only for the amuse- ment of their lord and his friends, and the public are not admitted. Years ago I saw such a dance, and though peculiar to Pahang as far as the Malay States are concerned, it is probable that it came originally from Java ; the instruments used by the orchestra and the airs played are certainly far more common in Java and Sumatra than in the Peninsula. I had gone to Pahang on a political mission acompanied by a friend, and we were vainly courting sleep in a miserable lodging, when at I A.M. a message came from the Sultan inviting us to witness a joget. We accepted with alacrity, and at once made our way to the astdna, a picturesque, well-built and commodious house on 45 MALAY SKETCHES the right bank of the Pahang river. A palisade enclosed the courtyard, and the front of the house was a very large hall, open on three sides, but covered by a lofty roof of fantastic design supported on pillars. The floor of this hall was approached by three wide steps continued round the three open sides, the fourth being closed by a wooden wall which entirely shut off the private apartments save for one central door over which hung a heavy cur- tain. The three steps were to provide sitting accommodation according to their rank for those admitted to the astdna. The middle of the floor, on the night in question, was covered by a large carpet, chairs were placed for us, and the rest of the guests sat on the steps of the dais. When we entered, we saw, seated on the carpet, four girls, two of them about eighteen and two about eleven years old, all attractive according to Malay ideas of beauty, and all gorgeously and picturesquely clothed. On their heads they each wore a large and curious but very pretty ornament of delicate work- manship a sort of square flower garden where all the flowers were gold, trembling and glittering with every movement of the wearer. These ornaments were secured to the head by twisted cords of silver 46 THE JOGET and gold. The girls' hair, combed down in a fringe, was cut in a perfect oval round their foreheads and very becomingly dressed behind. The bodices of their dresses were made of tight- fitting silk, leaving the neck and arms bare, whilst a white band of fine cambric (about i J inches wide), passing round the neck, came down on the front of the bodice in the form of a V, and was there fastened by a golden flower. Round their waists were belts fastened with large and curiously worked pinding or buckles of gold, so large that they reached quite across the waist. The rest of the costume consisted of a skirt of cloth of gold (not at all like the sarong), reaching to the ankles, while a scarf of the same material, fastened in its centre to the waist- buckle, hung down to the hem of the skirt. All four dancers were dressed alike, except that the elder girls wore white silk bodices with a red and gold handkerchief, folded cornerwise, tied under the arms and knotted in front. The points of the handkerchief hung to the middle of the back. In the case of the two younger girls the entire dress was of one material. On their arms the dancers wore numbers of gold bangles, and their fingers were covered with diamond 47 MALAY SKETCHES rings. In their ears were fastened the diamond buttons so much affected by Malays, and indeed now by Western ladies. Their feet, of course, were bare. We had ample time to minutely observe these details before the dance commenced, for when we came into the hall the four girls were sitting down in the usual* Eastern fashion, on the carpet, bending forward, their elbows resting on their thighs, and hiding the sides of their faces, which were towards the audience, with fans made of crimson and gilt paper which sparkled in the light. On our entrance the band struck up, and our special attention was called to the orchestra, as the instruments are seldom seen in the Malay Peninsula. There were two chief performers, one playing on a sort of harmonicon, the notes of which he struck with pieces of stick held in each hand. The other, with similar pieces of wood, played on inverted metal bowls. Both these performers seemed to have sufficiently hard work, but they played with the greatest spirit from 10 P.M. till 5 A.M. The harmonicon is called by Malays chelempong, and the inverted bowls, which give a pleasant and * The attitude is that obtained by transferring the body directly from a kneeling to a sitting position. 48 THE JOGET musical sound like the noise of rippling water, a? gambang. The other members of the orchestra) consisted of a very small boy who played, with a very large and thick stick, on a gigantic gong an old woman who beat a drum with two sticks, and several other boys who played on instruments like triangles called chdnang. All these performers, we were told with much solemnity, were artists of the first order, masters and a mistress in their craft, and if vigour of execu- tion counts for excellence they proved the justice of the praise. The Hall, of considerable size, capable of accom- modating several hundreds of people, was only dimly lighted, but the fact that, while the audience was in semi-darkness, the light was concentrated on the performers added to the effect. Besides our- selves I question whether there were more than twenty spectators, but sitting on the top of the da'is near to the dancers it was hard to pierce the sur- rounding gloom. The orchestra was placed on the left of the entrance to the Hall, that is rather to the side and rather in the background, a position evidently chosen with due regard to the feelings of the audience. From the elaborate and vehement execution of 49 D MALAY SKETCHES the players, and the want of regular time in the music, I judged, and rightly, that we had entered as the overture began. During its performance, the dancers sat leaning forward, hiding their faces as I have described ; but when it concluded and, without any break, the music changed into the regular rhythm for dancing, the four girls dropped their fans, raised their hands in the act of Sembah or homage, and then began the dance by swaying their bodies and slowly waving their arms and hands in the most graceful movements, making much and effective use all the while of the scarf hanging from their belts. Gradually raising themselves from a sitting to a kneeling posture, acting in perfect accord in every motion, then rising to their feet, they floated through a series of figures hardly to be exceeded in grace and difficulty, considering that the movements are essentially slow, the arms, hands and body being the real performers whilst the feet are scarcely noticed and for half the time not visible. They danced five or six dances, each lasting quite half an hour, with materially different figures and time in the music. All these dances I was told were symbolical ; one, of agriculture, with the till- ing of the soil, the sowing of the seed, the reaping THE JOGET and winnowing of the grain, might easily have been guessed from the dancer's movements. But those of the audience whom I was near enough to question were, Malay-like, unable to give me much informa- tion. Attendants stood or sat near the dancers and from time to time, as the girls tossed one thing on the floor, handed them another. Sometimes it was a fan or a mirror they held, sometimes a flower or small vessel, but oftener their hands were empty, as it is in the management of the fingers that the chief art of Malay dancers consists. The last dance, symbolical of war, was perhaps the best, the music being much faster, almost inspiriting, and the movements of the dancers more free and even abandoned. For the latter half of the dance they each held a wand, to represent a sword, bound with three rings of burnished gold which glittered in the light like precious stones. This nautch, which began soberly, like the others, grew to a wild revel until the dancers were, or pretended to be, possessed by the Spirit of Dancing, hantu mendri as they called it, and leaving the Hall for a moment to smear their fingers and faces with a fragrant oil, they returned, and the two eldest, striking at each other with their wands seemed inclined to turn the symbolical into a real MALAY SKETCHES battle. They were, however, after some trouble, caught by four or five women and carried forcibly out of the Hall, but not until their captors had been made to feel the weight of the magic wands. The two younger girls, who looked as if they too would like to be " possessed," but did not know how to accomplish it, were easily caught and removed. The band, whose strains had been increasing in wildness and in time^ ceased playing on the removal of the dancers, and the nautch, which had begun at 10 P.M., was over. The Raja, who had only appeared at 4 A.M., told me that one of the elder girls, when she became " properly possessed," lived for months on nothing but flowers, a pretty and poetic conceit. As we left the Astana, and taking boat rowed slowly to the vessel waiting for us off the river's mouth, the rising sun was driving the fog from the numbers of lovely green islets, that seemed to float like dew-drenched lotus leaves on the surface of the shallow stream. VIII THE STORY OF MAT ARIS I smote him as I would a worm, With heart as steeled, with nerve as firm j He never woke again WHITTIKR IT was in the year 1876 that a man named Mat Aris, of no occupation and less repute, per- suaded one Sahit to take his wife Salamah and start on a journey through the jungle to a distant country. The interest of Mat Aris in this couple was a desire to get rid of Sahit and possess himself of the woman Salamah, for whom he had conceived an overmastering passion. The travellers began their journey at a spot many miles up the Perak River ; their road lay along a jungle track, and so sparsely inhabited was the country they were to pass through, that they could not even find a habitation in which to pass the night. They had to look forward to many days' 53 MALAY SKETCHES journey through the primaeval forest, the home of wild beasts and Sakai people, aboriginal tribes almost as shy and untamed as the elephant, the bison and the rhinoceros, with which they share the forests of the interior. Sahit and his wife started on their journey in the company of two brothers of Mat Aris, but meeting him the brothers returned, Mat Aris undertaking the part of escort. In the afternoon of the first day's march a Sakai named Pah Patin met the three, and, being known to Mat Aris, that worthy ordered him to accompany them. Pah Patin did as he was told, and when evening came on, as there was no dwelling within miles, a shelter was built in the jungle wherein the night was to be passed. It is as well to understand what a Malay jungle is like, for a good soil, well watered, in one of the hottest and dampest climates in the world, produces a forest that is not altogether the counterpart of all other forests. The reading public, no doubt, believes that the jungle of Darkest Africa is a place of gloom, terror and difficulty without parallel. It may be so, but few of those who know it have visited Malaya, and one is apt to exaggerate one's own troubles. Whatever gruesome peculiarities there are about 54 THE STORY OF MAT ARTS the African jungle, it seems possible for large bodies of men and women to make their way through it at a fair pace without great difficulty. In that respect at least it has the advantage of the Malay forest. To begin with there are the trees of all sizes, from the smallest shoot to the giants of the jungle, towering to a height of 150 feet. I know that is not excessive, but in this forcing climate there are an enormous number of such trees, treading on each others roots and crowding the older and feebler out of existence. These are nothing, they afford a pleasant shade from the pitiless rays of the sun, and though this mitigated light cannot by any stretch of imagination be called darkness, it is possible to take off your hat without fear of sunstroke. If it were only for the trees jungle walking would be pleasant enough. Under them, however, there is an undergrowth so thick as to beggar description. Every conceiv- able kind of palm, of bush, of creeper, flourishes there with a luxuriance, with a prodigality of vege- table life, that shows how richly Nature deserves her title of Mother. It is a curious fact, remarked by every one who has been brought in contact with the Malay forest, that a very large number of its shrubs, many of its palms, and most of its creepers 55 MALAY SKETCHES are armed with spikes of various length, but all of about equal sharpness. Some are so formidable that the thickest skinned beasts avoid contact with them, and no human apparel has been devised, short of armour, that will resist their powers of penetration -and destruction. Under the creepers lie fallen trees, and the ground is covered with ferns, rank grasses, and what is generally termed undergrowth, so thick that the soil is often entirely hidden. It may be added as a minor but unpleasant detail that this tangle of vegetation harbours every species of crawl- ing, jumping, and flying unpleasantness ; myriads of leeches that work their way through stockings and garments of any but the closest texture ; centipedes, scorpions, wasps, and stinging flies, caterpillars that thrust their hairs into the skin and leave them there to cause intolerable irritation, snakes poisonous and otherwise, ants with the most murderous proclivities, and last, but not least, mosquitoes that, when they find a human being, make the most of their oppor- tunity. I have not exhausted the catalogue of pests, .but only given a sample of what any traveller will meet in a day's journey through a Malay jungle. There is a wasp called "the reminder," a thorn called " Kite's talons," and an ant known as the " fire ant." The names are as apt as they are suggestive. 56 THE STORY OF MAT ARIS To force a way through such a place is an im- possibility, even on all fours it could not be crawled through, the only means of progress is by cutting a path. No one attempts to walk through virgin forest unless he be in pursuit of game, or has some special object and the means to clear his way. All Malay jungle is not as thick as that I have described, and as the beasts sought by the sportsman naturally frequent the more open places, tracking is possible, though severe enough work even at the slow rate of progress necessary to enable the pursuers to approach the quarry without being seen or heard. The lower and more swampy the country the thicker the undergrowth, and I have often noticed that, where a river flows between low banks clothed with virgin forest, it would be almost impossible for even a strong swimmer to force his way out of the water on to the land through the thickly interlaced tangle of branches, rattans, and other thorny creepers that stretch their uninviting arms from the bank far over the water of the stream. It will naturally be asked how travellers make their way through jungle such as I have described. The reply is that there are existing tracks (not worthy of the name of footpaths) which have been 57 MALAY SKETCHES used for ages, originally no doubt formed by the passing and repassing of wild beasts, then adopted by the Sakais, and lastly by Malays. In other cases similar means of passage have been formed by driving tame elephants through the forest from place to place. For the pedestrian, especially if he be clad in the garments and boots of western civilisa- tion, progress through the succession of holes filled with water arid mud which marks the track of elephants is neither rapid nor pleasant. That is the jungle of daylight. When once the sun has set darkness falls upon everything within the forest, and it is a darkness so absolute as to give to wide-open eyes the impression of blindness. Those who have been so unfortunate as to be benighted in a Malay jungle without torches or lanterns know that there is nothing to be done but to sit down and wait for day. Such were the surroundings in which Sahit and his wife found themselves compelled to spend a night in the company of Mat Aris and his Sakai acquaintance. Mat Aris had a house in this neighbourhood, and on the day following the events already narrated a Malay went to the Headman of his village and said there was a woman in the house of Mat Aris sobbing 58 THE STORY OF MAT ARIS and saying her husband had been murdered. The Headman went to the place and saw Mat Aris was there and a woman with him. Mat Aris had a reputation which probably induced this Headman not to attempt to interfere with him further than to keep a watch on his proceedings. In places where there are no roads, and often when they do exist, Malays live on or close by the bank of a river, and, on the following day, the Head- man observed Mat Aris and the woman in a boat going down the stream, here a succession of rapids and very difficult to navigate. The Headman followed by a jungle track, and getting near to a place called Kota Tampan, the first police station, he hurried on and gave the information he pos- sessed. When Mat Aris arrived at Kota Tampan he landed, and was at once arrested by the native sergeant in charge of the station, who accused him of murdering Sahit. Mat Aris denied the charge, but the woman said her name was Salamah, and the sergeant said he must take them both to his Divi- sional Headquarters at Kuala Kangsar, distant thirty miles or more by river. Accordingly the sergeant and some police entered the boat and a start was made for Kuala Kangsar. It shortly appeared that 59 MALAY SKETCHES the police, who were natives of India, were not very skilful in the management of the boat, and, as Mat Aris offered his services to steer and there was no doubt of his ability, this important post was given to him. Choosing a convenient place where the stream was both deep and rapid, Mat Aris upset the boat and threw every one into the water. Then seizing the woman, he swam with her to the oppo- site bank and they both disappeared. The police had enough to do, hampered by their uniforms, to get out of the river with their lives. For the next eight years Mat Aris eluded all attempts at capture. He lived in the jungle beyond the jurisdiction of the Perak Government, and, with his brothers, became the terror of the neighbour- hood, levying black mail on all who passed his way. Mat Aris was the ringleader, and even more serious crimes were laid at his door. The woman Salamah was known to be living with Mat Aris as his wife, and it was also known that she had a child by him. Of Sahit nothing more was seen or heard. Meanwhile the Government of Perak had estab- lished a station in the neighbourhood of the spot where Sahit had disappeared, and complaints of the lawless proceedings of Mat Aris were constantly 60 THE STORY OF MAT ARIS made to the officer in charge of it, but he was help- less, for the outlaw was beyond his reach. Eight years is, however, a long time, especially to an Eastern, and travellers worth- robbing having grown scarce, Mat Aris, in the consciousness of his own rectitude, went to the Perak officer and asked for work. That mistaken step resulted in his arrest on the strength of the warrant issued eight years before. This time the prisoner was conveyed in safety to Kuala Kangsar, where he was duly tried. It is one thing to give information against a man who is free, willing, and able to resent it, and quite a different thing to say what you know when that man is in the toils. There was a witness who was likely to know what had happened to Sahit, and that was Pah Patin the Sakai, but Pah Patin did not speak, and Mat Aris and Salamah were the only other people who knew what he could say. At least that appeared to be so, for who else would be likely to know what happened at night in the depths of the jungle miles from the nearest habitation? As for Salamah, like the Sabine women, she seemed to have reconciled herself to her captor. But the strange part of this story is that, impos- sible as it may seem, there was a witness who 61 MALAY SKETCHES saw what took place in that hut in the forest, whither the unsuspecting Sahit had been lured with his wife under the escort of Mat Aris. That witness was a Sakai man who had been collecting gttah (gutta-percha), and, attracted by the firelight, noiselessly approached the hut and, whilst wondering at the unusual sight of these strangers sleeping in his wild and lonely jungle, he saw Mat Aris get up and stab to death the man, who stood between him and the woman he had determined to possess. The Sakai saw more than that, but when once he had disclosed what he knew, Pah Patin was found and induced to tell his tale, and other Sakais completed the narrative. It will be remembered that Sahit and his wife, Mat Aris and the Sakai Pah Patin had built a shelter where they proposed to spend the night. A fire was lighted, food was cooked and eaten, and the four lay down to sleep. On one side of the fire Mat Aris, next him Salamah, and then Sahit; on the other was the Sakai. The man and his wife slept, the other Malay pretended to sleep, and the Sakai fell into that state which passes for sleep with creatures that are always on the alert for possible danger. 62 THE STORY OF MAT ARIS Half an hour later Mat Aris rose up softly and with a kris stabbed Sahit in the throat. The wretched man staggered to his feet, fell and tried to struggle up again when Mat Aris shouted to the Sakai to strike him or he would kill him also. Pah Patin obeyed, and hit the wounded man on the head with a stick. " Then," said Pah Patin when at last he told the story, " there was a little life in him, but he never moved after I struck him." The woman rushed out of the hut, but Mat Aris followed her and brought her back to the mat by the body of the murdered man, and there they slept together, the Sakai returning to his place on the other side of the fire. The night was young then. Before daylight Pah Patin left Mat Aris and Salamah still sleeping by the corpse, and by order of Mat Aris fetched two more Sakais, and these three buried Sahit by the bank of the river in the presence of Mat Aris and the woman. Years afterwards, when the details were known, an attempt was made to find the body, but it failed ; decomposition in this climate is rapid, even bones disappear, and the river had many times flooded its banks, trees had gone and others grown, the land- marks were no longer the same, and possibly the exact site of the grave was missed. 63 IX LATAH Ofttimes he falleth into the fire and oft into the water MATTHEW xvii. 14 IN the spring of 1892 I was privileged, by the kindness of a friend and the courtesy of Dr. Luys, to visit the Hospital de la Charite in Paris, where I witnessed some very remarkable and in- teresting experiments in suggestion. There were patients undergoing successful treatment for nervous disorders where the disease was in process of gradual relief by passing from the afflicted person to a medium without injury to the latter ; there was the strange power of hypnotising, influencing and awakening certain sujets whose nervous organisations seem to be specially susceptible, and there was the astonishing influence of the magnet over these same sujets when already hypnotised. There is some- thing more than usually uncanny in the sight of a 64 LATAH person filled with an inexplicable and unnatural delight in the contemplation of the positive end of a magnet, and when the negative end is sud- denly turned towards him, to -see him instantly fall down unconscious as though struck by light- ning. The sujets (there were two of them, a man and a woman) described the appearance of the positive end of the magnet as producing a beautiful blue flame about a foot high, so exquisite in colour and beauty that it transported them with delight. As to the negative end, they reluctantly explained, in hesi- tating words and with every appearance of dread, that there also was a flame, but a red one of fearful and sinister import. I was deeply interested in these " manifestations," both for their own strangeness and because I had in the Malay Peninsula seen equally extraordinary proceedings of a somewhat similar kind. Amongst Malays there is a well-known disease (I use the word for want of a better) called Idtah; it is far more common at certain places than at others, and amongst certain divisions of the great Malay family. Thus while there is generally one or more orang Idtah to be found in every kampong in Krian, where the Malays are mostly from Kedah, in other 65 E MALAY SKETCHES parts of Perak it is rare to ever meet a Idtah person. Again, speaking generally, the disease seems to be more common amongst the people of Amboina, in Netherlands India, than those of Java, Sumatra or the Malay Peninsula. In both cases heredity is pro- bably accountable for the result, whatever may have been the original cause to produce the affliction in certain places more than in others. I can only speak of my own experience and what I have personally seen, for no English authority appears to have studied the matter or attempted to either observe Idtah people, diagnose the disease (if it is one), search for its cause or attempt to cure it. I can vouch for facts but nothing more. In 1874 I was sent in H.M.S. Hart to reside with the .Sultan of Selangor. Though His High- ness's personal record was one of which he might be proud, for he was said to have killed ninety-nine men (sd rdtus kiirang sdtu) with his own hand, his State was not altogether a happy one, for it had been the fighting-ground of several ambitious young Rajas for some years. An unusually hideous piracy, personally conducted by one of the Sultan's own sons, and committed on a Malacca trading vessel, had necessitated a visit from the China fleet, and when the perpetrators, or those who after due 66 LATAH inquiry appeared to be the perpetrators, had been executed (the Sultan lending his own kris for the ceremony), I was sent to see that these " boyish amusements," as His Highness called them, were not repeated. The place where the Sultan then lived was hardly a desirable residence, even from a Malay point of view, and it has for years now been almost deserted. Bandar Tfrmdsa, as it was grandiloquently styled, was a collection of huts on a mud flat enclosed between the Langat and Jugra rivers. It was only seven miles from the sea, and at high tide most of the place was under water. With me there went twenty-five Malay police from Malacca, and we lived all together in an old stockade on the bank of the Langat river. Whether it was the mosquitoes, which for numbers and venom could not be matched, or whether it was the evil reputation of the place for deeds of violence is needless to inquire, but the police were seized with panic and had to be replaced by another batch from Singapore, selected not so much on account of their virtues as their so-called vices. The exchange was satisfactory, for whatever sins they committed they showed no signs of panic. Later on I was encouraged by the statement that Bandar Termasa, for all its unpromising appearance, 67 MALAY SKETCHES was a place for men, where those who had a differ- ence settled it promptly with the kris, and cowards who came there either found their courage or departed. A story that amused the gossips was that, as a badly wounded man was carried from the duelling field past the palisade which enclosed the Sultan's house, His Highness had asked, through the bars, what was the matter, and, being told, had laconically remarked, " If he is wounded, doctor him ; if he is dead, bury him." During my residence in the place a lady, for jealousy, stabbed a man of considerable note thirteen times with his own dagger, and sent the next morning to know whether I would like to purchase it, as she did not much fancy the weapon. The man was not killed, and made no complaint. Another lady, for a similar reason, visited our stockade one night, pushed the sentry on one side, and, finding the man she wanted, attempted to stab him with a long kris she had brought for that purpose. That was then the state of society in Bandar Termasa. I have said we lived all together in a stockade. It was a very rude structure with log walls about six feet thick and eight feet high, a mud floor, a 68 LATAH thatch roof, and no doors. Outside it was a high watch-tower of the same materials, but the ladder to it had fallen down. Of roads there were none, but a mud path ran through the stockade from river bank to village, distant some 300 yards. My own accommodation was a cot borrowed from the Hart and slung between two posts, while the men slept on the walls of the stockade. The place had drawbacks other than mosquitoes, for the public path ran through it, the tide at high water completely covered the floor, and the log walls were full of snakes. The state of the sur- roundings will best be understood when I say that during the many months I lived there I did not wear boots outside the stockade, because there was nothing to walk upon but deep mud, and that the only water fit to use was contained in a well or pond a quarter of a mile off, to which I walked every day to bathe. With the second batch of police had come an European inspector, and he and I were the only white men in the country. Amongst the twenty-five police were two men of the name of Kasim ; they were both natives of Amboina, but very different in disposition, and they were known among their comrades as Kasim BZsar 69 MALAY SKETCHES and Kasim Ktchil that is Kasim Major and Kasim Minor. Kasim Major was a quiet, reserved, silent man of about twenty-five, and I afterwards realised that he had a somewhat violent temper when roused. Kasim Minor, on the contrary, was a smiling, talkative, happy, and pleasant-looking young fellow of about twenty. They were not related to each other in any way. I used often to be away on the coast and up river, and on my return from one of these expedi- tions I noticed the men teasing Kasim Minor, and saw at once that he was Idtah. I questioned the inspector, and he told me that during my absence he had one day been away on duty for some hours, and when he returned, about 4 P.M., he saw Kasim Minor up a coco-nut tree just outside the stockade. On asking him what he was doing there, he replied he could not come down because there was a snake at the bottom of the tree. In reality there was a bit of rattan tied round the tree, and, this being removed, Kasim came down. Now, it is no easy matter to climb a coco-nut tree ; it requires a special training to do it at all, and Kasim did not possess it. But the inspector ascertained that the other police had found out by 70 LATAH accident that their comrade was Idtah, that they had ordered him to climb the tree, which he had at once done, and that then, out of sheer devilry, some one had taken a bit of rattan, said, " Do you see this snake ? I will tie it round the tree, and then you can't come down," and so left him from 10 A.M. till the afternoon, when the inspector returned and released him. The time of Kasim's penance was probably greatly exaggerated, but that is how the story was told to me, and of all that follows I was an eye- witness. I made Kasim Minor my orderly, and as he was- constantly with me I had better opportunities of studying his peculiarities. About this time also I learnt that Kasim Major was also Idtah. Speaking generally, it was only necessary for any one to attract the attention of either of these men by the simplest means, holding up a finger, calling them by name in a rather pointed way, touching them or even, when close by, to look them hard in the face, and instantly they appeared to lose all control of themselves and would do, not only what- ever they were told to do, but whatever was sug- gested by a sign. I have seen many Idtah people, male and female, 71 MALAY SKETCHES but never any quite like these two, none so sus- ceptible to outside influence, so ready to blindly obey a word or a sign. The kindly disposition of Kasim Minor made him quite harmless, but the other Kasim was rather a dangerous subject to play tricks with, as I will pre- sently explain. The Idtah man or woman usually met with, if suddenly startled, by a touch, a noise, or the sight of something unexpected, will not only show all the signs of a very nervous person but almost invariably will fire off a volley of expressions more or less obscene, having no reference at all to the circum- stance which has suddenly aroused attention. As a rule it is necessary to startle these people before they will say or do anything to show that they are differently constituted to their neighbours, and when they have betrayed themselves either by word or deed their instinct is to get away as quickly as possible. Children and even grown-up people cannot always resist the pleasure of