Full text of "Studies in brown humanity, being scrawls and smudges in sepia, white, and yellow, by Hugh Clifford .."

UC-NRLF

$B 2TM 7TE

. .

y yu

STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

RECENT FICTION

By Grant Allen.

Linnet. 6s.

An African Millionaire. 6s.
By R. S. Warren Bell.

The Cub in Love. is. 6d.
By Frederic Breton.

True Heart. 6s.
By G. B. Burgin.

The Cattle-Man. 6$.

" Old Man's " Marriage. 6s.
By Hugh Clifford.

In Court and Kampong. 7s. 6d.
By George Egerton.

The Wheel of God. 6s.
By George Fleming.

Little Stories about Women. 3s. 6d.
By R. Murray Gilchrist.

A Peakland Faggot. 28. 6d.
By Marie and Robert Leighton.

Convict 99. 3s. 6d.
By Haldane M'Fall.

A Black Vagabond. 6s.
By Leonard Merrick.

The Actor-Manager. 6s.

One Man's View. 3s. 6d.
By W. C. Morrow.

The Ape, the Idiot, and Other People. 6s.
By Helmuth Schwartze.

The Laughter of Jove. 6s.
By Gordon Seymour.

The Rudeness of the Honourable Mr.

Leatherhead. 2s.
A Homburg Story. 2s.
Cui Bono ? 2s.
By Lady Troubridge.

Paul's Stepmother. 3s. 6d.

London : Grant Richards, 1898.

STUDIES

BROWN HUMANITY

BEING

SCRAWLS AND SMUDGES IN SEPIA
WHITE, AND YELLOW

• »* • •

* ••• » • • • • •

HUGH CLIFFORD
•«

AUTHOR Or

'in court and kamfong'

fLonfcon

GRANT RICHARDS

9 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C.
1898

€o 3. <&. «.

A» helpless Debtors come to lay

Poor presents at the feet
Of those they ne'er can hope to pay,

So come I, as 'tis meet,
To lay this book on thy dear knee,

In token that I know,
Of love and sacrifice for me,

How great the debt I owe.

H. C.

732931

PREFACE

The tales and sketches of which this book is com-
posed have a very definite object underlying their
apparent lightness. To some extent, it must be
confessed, they wear the garb of fiction ; but, none
the less, they are s7ucfiesj)f things as tney are, — drawn
from the life. The facts related in the stories which
I have named c In the Valley of the T£lom,' 'The
Fate of Leh the Strolling Player,' ■ His Little Bill,'
'At the Heels of the White Man,' 'A Malay
Othello,' 'The Weeding of the Tares,' and 'From
the Grip of the Law,' are all things which have
actually occurred in the Malay Peninsula during the
last ten or twenty years. The tale told by Tiikang .

Burok, which is peculiarly painful and characteristic, ju/' _^J
is known to many people in the interior of Pahang,
and is, I believe, true in every detail. I can only
claim these stories as my own in that I have filled in .

the pictures from my knowledge of the localities in ^
which the various events happened, and have generally
told my tales in the fashion which appealed to me as

viii STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the most appropriate. Umat, who is the subject of
one of the sketches, is a very real person indeed, and
as I write these lines he is sleeping peacefully over the
punkah cord, with which he has become inextricably
entangled. The purely descriptive chapters are the
result of personal observation in a land which has
become very dear to me, which I know intimately,
and where the best years of my life have hitherto been
spent. The remaining stories are somewhat more
imaginative than their fellows ; but * The Spirit of
the Tree* and 'The Strange Elopement of Chaling
the Dyak' were both related to me as facts, in the
manner which I have described. As regards the
former, the man whom I have called Trimlett
certainly had an exceedingly ugly wound on his foot,
for which he accounted in rather a curious manner.
As for Chaling, I have no hesitation in expressing my
own profound disbelief in its main features ; but this
is merely a private opinion, by which I would ask no
man to be unduly influenced. I am indebted to the
Editor of Macmillan s Magazine for permission to
republish the story of the Schooner. The tale is one
which has long been current among the native and
European pearlers of the Archipelago, from whom I

heard it, and by whom it is unquestioningly believed.

In writing these tales and sketches it has mainly
been my design to illustrate, in as readable a manner
as I am able, the lives lived by those among the natives
of the Peninsula who have not yet been changed out

jifu. (V*-

of all recognition by the steadily increasing influence
of Europearo-y to picture their habits and customs,
their beliefs and superstitions, their tortuous twists of
thought, and incidentally to give some idea of the
lovely land in which they move and have their being.
These things have seemed to me to be all the better
worth recording because innovation is doing its work
in the Peninsula with surprising rapidity, and the
people, and to some extent even their surroundings,
are undergoing a complete and radical change, which
will leave them quite other than they were before we
came amongst them, and as a few of them still are in
some of the remoter places of which my stories tell.

For more than fourteen years I have dwelt in the
Peninsula in almost hourly contact with natives of all
classes, from Sultans and Rajas to Chiefs and Datos,
from villagers and fisher-folk to the aboriginal tribes of
Sakai and Semang, who people the forests of the remote
interior, and I have ever found the study of my sur-
roundings of absorbing interest. I shall probably hurt
no man's self-complacency, if I say that the things
and places of which I tell are matters concerning
which the ideas of the vast majority of my country-
men are both hazy and fragmentary. But, none the
less, the Peninsula and its sepia-coloured peoples are
curious and worthy of attention, and therefore they
deserve to be better known by the men of the race
which has taken the destiny of the Malays of the /
Peninsula under its especial charge.

x STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

In the selection of the subjects of my illustrations
S I have frequently experienced considerable difficulty,
because I have often been driven to choose the ex-
ception rather than the rule, the abnormal rather
than the normal, if my tales are to be rendered
acceptable to any save the very few who are personally
and directly interested in my brown friends. Had I
received my training in the Kailyard School, instead
of among the wilds of the Malay jungles ; had I the
genius of a Barrie, instead of the facility of a mere
writer of official reports, — it is possible that I might so
paint the commonplace, everyday life of the Malays
that I should move my readers to tears and laughter
over every incident of the village on the river banks,
and of the rice- fields which lie behind it. But, alas,
these things are far beyond my reach, and I must
whip my Pegasus over break-neck leaps, must charge
him through barbarous combats, and must tumble him
head-over-heels into some ugly depths, if his antics are
to excite any particular emotion On the flat, and
across the grass, he has no special grace of action to
distinguish him above his fellows.

HUGH CLIFFORD.

British Residency,
Fahang, Malay Peninsula,
November 24, 1897.

CONTENTS

2.
3-

4-
5-
6.

7-
8.

9-
10.

1 1.

12.

13-
14.

»5-
16.

For always roaming with a hungry heart 4j£.

Much have I seen and known.

Ulysses.

In the Valley of the Telom

The Fate of Leh the Strolling Player

Umat ......

His Little Bill ....

The Schooner with a Past .

In Arcadia .....

The Spirit of the Tree
At the Heels of the White Man
TOkang BOrok's Story .
On Malayan Rivers
A Malay Othello
Some Notes and Theories concerning Latah
The Weeding of the Tares .
In the Rush of Many Waters .
From the Grip of the Law .
The Strange Elopement of ChXling the
Dyak .....

PACX

54
67

84
107
122

139

152

171
i8rj<-

202
211
223

IN THE VALLEY OF THE TfiLOM

Where the forest yields to the open space,

And the trees stand back to see
The waters that babble and glisten and race

Thro' woodlands trackless and free ;
Where the soil is ploughed by a thousand feet,

And the salt lies sweet below,
Here nightly the beasts of the jungle meet

To wallow, and bellow, and blow.

The Salt-Lick.

Very far away, in the remote interior of Pahang,
there is a river called the Telom — an angry little
stream, which fights and tears its way through the
vast primaeval forest, biting savagely at its banks,
wrestling impatiently with the rocks and boulders that
obstruct its path, rippling fiercely over long beds of
water-worn shingle, and shaking a glistening mane of
splashing, troubled water, as it rushes downwards in
its fury. Sometimes, during the winter months, when
the rain has fallen heavily in the mountains, the
Telom will rise fourteen or fifteen feet in a couple of
hours, and then, for a space, its waters change their
temper from wild, excited wrath, to a sullen anger,
which it is by no means pleasant to encounter. But

2 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

it is when the stream is shrunken by drought that it
is really most dangerous ; for, at such times, sharp and
ragged rocks, over which a raft is usually able to pass
in safety, rise ux> i from the river-bed, to within an inch
or two af the surface, and rip all things cast against
them with keen firm cuts, that need no further hacking
to complete their work of dismemberment. At the
very foot of the largest rapid in the river, one of these
boulders forms, in dry weather, a very efficient trap
for the unwary. The channel of the stream, at this
point, narrows somewhat, and is confined between high
walls of rock, and the boiling waters of the fall are
further troubled by the jagged blocks of granite, with
which the river-bed is studded. One of these leans
slightly up stream, for the friction of ages has worn
away a cavity where the force of the current strikes
most fiercely ; and, when the waters are low, it is
impossible for a raft to avoid this obstacle.

The rafts, which are used upon the upper reaches
of the Malayan rivers, are formed of about eighteen
bamboos, lashed side by side, and firmly kept in place
by stout wooden stays above and across. They are
usually some twenty feet in length, and, though they
have great flotage, their very lightness causes them to
wallow knee-deep when the furious waters of a rapid
roar over them and about them, while they whirl
down stream at a headlong, desperate pace. The more
shrunken the stream, the greater the speed at which a
raft spins down a fall, for the rapid itself is unchanging,
while, at such times, the volume of water is in-
sufficient to break the drop, and soften the descent.

Thus it is that, at the rapid in the Telom, of

IN THE VALLEY OF THE T&LOM 3

which I speak, a raft charges down the channel between
the high walls of granite, and comes to eternal grief
upon the leaning rock, which obstructs the passage,
waiting so calmly and so patiently for its prey.

A harsh, sharp crack — the agonised pain-cry of the
bamboos — sounds above the roar of the waters, as the
raft strikes the boulder fairly and squarely. Another
second, and the bow is fast wedged beneath the pro-
jecting ledge of the slanting rock. The bamboos
give another despairing shriek j and the tail of the
raft rises swiftly to a perpendicular position, waggling
irresolutely, while the bow is buried more deeply
beneath the boulder, which grips it fast. Then, like
the sail of a windmill, the raft whirls round in the air,
the fixed bow serving as its axis, and, with a flap, it
smites the racing waters beyond the obstructing rock.
Every one of the bamboos is smashed in an instant
into starting, shrieking slivers, which have power to
cut more sharply than the keenest knife. The men,
who lately manned the raft, are cast high into the air.
Then they are broken pitilessly upon the rocks, are
cut and wounded cruelly by the matchwood that was
once their raft, or are to be seen struggling powerlessly
in an angry torrent.

Jgram Musoh Karam — the Rapid of the Drowned
Enemy — the place is named in the vernacular, and
native tradition tells of an invading expedition utterly
destroyed in this terrible rock-bound death-trap. But
men who know the records of the river are aware that
the Telom spares friend no more than it once spared
foe ; and the tale of its kills waxes longer and longer
as the years slip away.

4 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

None the less, it is during the driest season, when
the stream, shrunken to the lowest limits, is most
angry and vicious, that the valley of the Telom fills
with life. It is then that the black tin ore, found in
the sands and shingles of the river-bed, is most
accessible, and the Malays come hither, in little family
parties, to wash for it. Men, women, and little
children stand in the shallows, deftly shaking their
great flat wooden trays, with a circular motion, and
storing small pinches of tin in the hollows of bamboos.
At night-time, they camp in rude shelters on the
banks of the stream, roast such fish as they have caught
in the cleft of split sticks, and discuss the results of the
day's toil. The amount of their earnings is very
small, but Malays are capable of a great deal of patient
labour when it chances to take a form that, for the
moment, they happen to find congenial.

At this season, too, the jungles are one degree less
damp and sodden than they are at other times, and the
searchers for getah and rattans seize the opportunity,
and betake themselves to the forests, for well they
know how unpleasant life can be when the rain falls
heavily, and what sun there is cannot force its way
through the tangled canopy of leaves and creepers, to
dry what the rain has soaked.

Meanwhile, the magnificent duri-an groves of the
upper reaches of the Telom are rich in a profusion of
splendid fruit, and the semi-wild tribes of Sakai * come
from far and near to camp beneath the shade of the
giant trees, and there to feast luxuriously. No man

1 Aboriginal tribes of the Malay Peninsula, belonging to the Mon-
Annam family.

IN THE VALLEY OF THE T&LOM 5

knows who planted these gardens, for the Sakai asks
no questions as long as food is plentiful, and the
Malays are equally lacking in curiosity upon the
subject. But the trees are very ancient, and the fruit
has formed one of the main food-supplies of the Sakai
since first they roamed through these forests.

So the wild tribes gather together in the groves,
camping there for weeks at a time, and gorging rap-
turously. In the silent night-time, the dulled thud of
the fruit, falling upon the rank grass, sounds in the
ears of the watchers, and a wild stampede ensues from
under the shelters of the forest-dwellers, in order that
the fruit may be instantly secured. This is a some-
what necessary, precaution, for tigers love the duri-an^
and a man must be quick in the gathering, if he would
avoid a fight for possession with one of these monsters.

But it is not only by human beings that the valley
of the Tdlom is overrun during the dry season of
the year ; for it is then that the great Salt-Lick of
Misong is crowded by game. The Misong is a
small stream, which falls into the Tglom on its left
bank, some miles above the rapids. About a couple
of thousand yards up the Misong, from its point of
junction with the Telom, there is a spot where the
right bank, though covered with virgin forest, is much
trodden by the passage of game. The underwood is
worn down, and has become thin and sparse. The
trees are smooth in places, and here and there are
splashed by great belts of mud, eight feet from the
ground, which mark the spots where wild elephants
have stood rocking backwards and forwards, gently
rubbing their backs against the rough bark. In many

6 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMJNI1T

places, the earth is trodden down to the water's edge
in great deep clefts, such as the kine make near Malay
villages, at the points where, in the cool of the after-
noon, they go to wallow in the shallows of the river.

A bold sweep of the Misong, at this spot, forms of
the left bank a rounded headland, flat and level, and
covering some two acres of ground. In places, short,
closely-cropped grass colours the soil a brilliant green,
but, for the most part, this patch of open bears the
appearance of a deeply-ploughed field. This is the
Salt-Lick of Misong.

The earth is here impregnated with saline deposits,and
the beasts of the forest come hither in their hundreds to
lick the salt, which, to them, and to the lowest of our
/human stock also, is 'sweeter' than anything in the
world. When the waters of the Misong are swollen,
the salt cannot be got at, and the lick is deserted, but
in the dry weather, the place is alive with game.
Here may be seen the tracks of deer ; the hoof-marks
of the selddang^ the strongest of all the beasts j here is
found the long, sharp scratch made by the toes of the
rhinoceros ; the pitted trail, and deep rootings left by
the wild swine ; the pad-track of the tiger ; the tiny
footprints of the kanchil^ the perfectly formed deer
which, in size, is no larger than a rabbit ; and the
great round sockets, punched by the ponderous feet of
the elephants in the soft and yielding soil. Here
come, too, the tapir, and the black panther, and packs
of wild dogs, and the jungle cats of all kinds, from the
brute which resembles the tiger in all but bulk, to the
slender spotted animal, built as lightly and as neatly as
a greyhound. Sitting in the fork of a tree, high

IN THE VALLEY OF THE T&LOM 7

above the heads of the game, so that your wind cannot
disturb them, you may watch all the animal life of the
jungle come and go, and come again, within a few
yards of you, and, if you have the patience to keep
your rifle quiet, you may see a thousand wonderful
things.

It was to the Salt-Lick of Misong that my friend,
Pandak Aris, came, one day, with two Sakai com-
panions, from his house below the rapids. When I
knew him, he was an old man of seventy or there-
abouts, wizened and dry, with deep furrows of wrinkle
on face and body. His left arm was stiff and power-
less, and he bore many ugly scars besides. His closely
cropped hair was white as hoar-frost, and, on his chin,
grew a long goat's beard of the same hue, which
waggled to and fro with the motion of his lips. Two
yellow fangs were set in his gums, and his mouth was
a cavern stained dark-red with betel-nut juice. His f
words came indistinctly through his quid, and from his
toothless gums, but he had many things to tell con-
cerning the jungles, in which he dwelt, and, when I
camped near his house, we were wont to sit talking
together far into the night.

In his youth, he had come to Pahang from Rembau,
drifting aimlessly, as young men will, to the fate
which awaited him, he knew not where. She — these
fates are always feminine — proved to be a Jelai girl,
who lived near the limits of the Sakai country, and,
after he had married her, they took up their abode a
couple of days' journey up the Telom river, where they
might be completely alone ; for no other Malays live
permanently in this valley. Here, she had borne him

8 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMJNITT

three sons, and two daughters, and he had planted
cocoanut and fruit trees, which now cast heavy shade
about the roof of his dwelling. That all happened
nearly fifty years before I first met Pandak Aris, and,
during all that long, long time, he had lived contentedly
•without once leaving the district in which he had his
home. He remained wrapped up in his own joys and
sorrows, and in his own concerns, rarely seeing a
strange face, from year's end to year's end, and entirely

y. undisturbed by the humming and throbbing of the
great world without. Think of it, ye White Me n !
V \ He had only one life on earth to live, and this is how
' t/T he spent it — like thejrog under the cocoanut-shell, as

the Malays say, who dreams not that there are other
worlds than his. Wars had raged within sixty miles
of his home, but his peace had not been broken ; great
changes had taken place in the Peninsula, but they had
affected him not at all ; and the one great event of his
life, which had left its mark scored deeply upon both
his mind and his body, was that which had befallen
y^him at the Salt-Lick of Misong, a score of years and
more, before I chanced upon him. He told me the tale,
brokenly as a child might do, while we sat talking in
the dim light of the damar torch, which guttered in
its clumsy wooden stand, set in the centre of his mat-
covered floor, and, as he spoke, he pointed, ever and
anon, to his stiff left arm, and to the ugly scars upon
his body, calling upon them, like Sancho Panza, to
prove that he did not lie !

It was in the afternoon that Pandak Aris, and his
two Sakai followers, reached the Salt-Lick of Misong.
They had been roaming through the forest, blazing

IN THE VALLEY OF THE T&LOM 9

gitah trees since morning, for it was Pandalc Aris's
intention to prepare a large consignment of the
precious gum, against the coming of the washers for
tin, in the next dry season. They all three knew the
Salt-Lick well, and as it was an open space near
running water, and they were hungry after their
tramp, they decided to halt there, and cook rice.
They built a little fire near the base of a giant tree,
which grows a hundred yards or so inland from the
left bank, at a point where the furrowed earth of the
Salt-Lick begins to give place to heavy jungle. The
dry sticks blazed up bravely, the flame showing pale in
the brighter sunlight of the afternoon, while the thin
vapours danced furiously above it. The black rice-pot
was propped upon three stones in the centre of the
crackling fuel, and while one of the Sakai sat stirring
the rice, and the other plucked leeches from his
bleeding legs, and cut them into pieces with his wood-
knife, Pandak Aris began preparing a luscious quid
of betel-nut, from the ingredients contained in the
little brass boxes which he carried in a small cotton
handkerchief. The gentle murmur of bird and insect
life, which precedes the wild clamour of the sunset
hour, was beginning to purr through the forest, and
the Mfsong sang drowsily as it pattered between its
banks. Pandak Aris's eyes began to close sleepily, and
the Sakai, who had dismembered his last leech,
stretched himself elaborately, and then, rolling over on
his face, was asleep before his nose touched the grass !
This is the manner of the Sakai, and of some of the
other bwer_animai8.

Suddenly, a wild tumult of sound broke the stillness.

io STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

The Sakai who was cooking had screamed a shrill cry
of warning to his companions, but, above his frightened
cry, came the noise of a furious trumpeting, like a
steam siren in a fog, the crashing of boughs and
branches, and a heavy tramping which seemed to shake
the earth. The cooking Sakai had swung himself into
a tree, and was now swarming up it like a monkey,
never pausing to look below, until the topmost fork
was reached. His sleeping fellow, at the first alarm,
had awaked with a leap, which carried him some yards
from the spot where he had been lying, for the Sakai,
who can fall asleep like an animal, can also wake into
complete alertness like any other forest creature. A
second later, he, too, was sitting in the highest fork of
a friendly tree, and all this had happened before Pandak
Aris, who had been merely dozing, was completely
awake to the fact that danger was at hand. Then he,
also, leaped up, and, as he did so, two long white tusks
with a trunk coiled closely about one of them, two
little fierce red eyes, and a black bulk of dingy,
crinkled hide, came into view within a yard of him.

Pandak Aris sought shelter behind the big tree
from the onslaught of the squealing elephant, and, a
moment later, he also swung himself into safety among
the branches overhead, for a jungle-bred Malay is
quick enough, if he be not compared with the Sakai,
whose activity is that of a frightened stag.

The elephant charged the fire fiercely, scattering
the burning brands far and wide, trampling upon the
rice-pot, till it was flattened to the likeness of sheet
tin, kneading the little brass betel-boxes deep into the
earth, and keeping up all the while a torrent of angry

IN THE VALLEY OF THE T£LOM ii

squealings. The whole scene only lasted a moment
or two, and then the furious brute whirled clumsily
round, and, still sounding his war-cry, disappeared
into the echoing forest, as suddenly as he had emerged
from it.

Pandak Aris and the two Sakai sat in the trees, and
listened to the trumpeting of the elephant, as it grew
fainter and fainter in the distance.

1 How can one name such ferocity as this ? '
murmured Pandak Aris, with the aggrieved half-
wondering patience of the much -enduring Oriental.
He looked down very sadly upon the flattened metal,
which had once been a rice-pot, and at the shapeless
lumps of brass, deeply imbedded in the soil, which
had so lately contained his betel quids.

The two Sakai, chattering in the upper branches
of the trees, shook the boughs on which they were
seated, in the agony of the fear that still held them.

'The Great Father was filled with wrath!' said
one of them. He was anxious to speak of the elephant
that had assailed them, with the greatest respect.
Both he and his fellow felt convinced that the rogue
was an incarnation of their former friend and tribes-
man Pa' Patin — the 'Spike-Fish' — who had come by
his death on the Salt-Lick two years before, but they
were much too prudent to express this opinion yet
awhile. Pa' Patin had been a mild enough individual
during his lifetime, but he seemed to have developed
a temper since he joined the other shades, and the
two Sakai would not willingly outrage his feelings by
speaking of him by name.

Presently, Pandak Aris climbed down from his tree,

12 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

and began somewhat ruefully to gather together his
damaged property. He cried to the two Sakai to
come to his aid, but they sat shuddering in their lofty
perches, and declined to move.

c Come down ! Descend out of the branches !
Are your ears deaf that ye obey me not ? ' shouted
Pandak Aris ; but the frightened Sakai showed no
signs of complying. He cursed and miscalled them
with that amplitude of vocabulary which the Malays
know how to use upon occasion. He threatened all
manner of grievous punishments ; he tried to bribe
the shuddering creatures with promises of food and
tobacco ; at last, he even condescended to entreat
them to come down. But all was in vain, for the
Sakai remained firm, and cared for none of these things.
Pandak Aris knew how hopeless would be an attempt
to chase these creatures through the branches, and,
at last, very much out of temper, he gave up all hope
of making the Sakai rejoin him that night.

Meanwhile, much time had been wasted, and the
waters of the Misong were dyed scarlet by the reflec-
tions cast from the ruddy clouds overhead. The
tocsin of the insect world was ringing through the
forest, and the birds' chorus was slowly dying down.
High above the topmost branches of the trees, the
moon, not yet at the full, was showing pale and faint,
but each moment the power of its gentle light grew
in strength. Pandak Aris glanced at all these things,
and, almost unconsciously, he drew a number of in-
ferences from them. It was too late for him to push
on alone to the mouth of the Misong, near which their
camp had been pitched that morning, for no Malay

IN THE VALLEY OF THE TiLOM 13

willingly threads the jungle alone when the darkness
has fallen upon the land. It was too late also to erect
a camp on the Salt-Lick, for, after the shock which
his nerves had received from the attack of the rogue
elephant, he had no fancy for penetrating into the
forest to cut leaves and sticks for a hut, unless he
was accompanied by at least one of the Sakai. There-
upon, Pandak Aris decided to camp on the bare earth,
at the foot of the giant tree near which he stood.
It would be fairly light, he told himself, until within
three hours before the dawn, and though his rice-pot
was smashed, and he must go to bed supperless, he
would light a fire and sleep beside its protecting blaze.
But here an unexpected difficulty presented itself.
The flint and steel, with which the fire was to be
kindled, was nowhere to be found. With the rest of
Pandak Aris's gear, it had been cast to the winds by
the rogue elephant, and the fast-waning light refused
to show where it had fallen. Pandak Aris searched
diligently for an hour, but without result, and at
length he was forced to abandon all hope of finding
it. If he could have put his hand upon a seasoned
piece of rattan, he could easily have ignited a dry
stick, by pulling the former backwards and forwards
across it, but rattan grows green in the jungle, and
is useless for this purpose until it has been dried.

Pandak Aris lay down upon the warm earth be-
tween the roots of the big tree, and swore softly under
his breath. He cursed the Sakai to the fifth and sixth
generation, and said bitter things of Fate and Destiny.
.•Then he rolled over on his side, and fell asleep. The
tree near which he lay, like most jungle giants, threw

i 4 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

out long ridges of root, which, at their junction with
the trunk, rose above the surface of the ground to a
height of two or three feet. Thence they sloped
down at a sharp angle, and meandered away through
the grass, and the rank underwood, in all manner of
knotty curves and undulations. Pandak Aris lay in
the space between two of these roots, and was thus
protected by a low wall on either side of him, extend-
ing from his head to his hips. The placid moonlight
bathed the jungle with a flood of soft radiance, and
fell upon the sleeping face of the Malay, and upon the
Sakai hunched up, with their heads between their
knees, snoring uneasily in the tree- tops. The ants
ran hither and thither over Pandak Aris's body, and
a lean leech or two came bowing and scraping towards
him as he slept. The jungle hummed with its myriad
sounds caused by birds and insects, but the rhythm of
this gentle murmur did not disturb the sleepers.

Suddenly, the two Sakai awoke with a start. They
said never a word, but they listened intently. Very
far away, across the Mtsong, a branch had snapped
faintly but crisply. The ear of a European would hardly
have detected the sound, had he been listening for it,
but it had been more than sufficient to arouse the
sleeping Sakai into an alert wakefulness. The noise
was repeated again and again. Now, several twigs and
branches seemed to snap simultaneously ; now, there
was a swishing noise, as of green leaves ripped from
their boughs by a giant's hand ; and then for a space
deep silence once more. The sounds grew gradually
louder and more distinct, and for an hour the Sakai sat
listening intently, while Pandak Aris slept placidly.

IN THE VALLEY OF THE TtiLOM 15

Suddenly, there came a soft squelching noise, followed
shortly by a pop, sounding in the distance like that of
a child's gun. This was repeated many times, and
was succeeded by the splashing of water sluiced over
hot rough hides. Even a White Man could have
interpreted the meaning of this, but the Sakai could
beat him even now, for their ears had told them not
only that a herd of elephants had come down to water,
but even the number of the beasts, and moreover that
one of them was a calf of tender age.

The wind was blowing from the jungle across the
Misong to the trees where the men were camped, so
the elephants took their bath with much leisure,
splashing and wallowing mightily in the shallows, and
in such pools as they could find. Then they came
ashore, and began working slowly round under cover
of the jungle, so as to get below the wind before
venturing out upon the open space of the Salt-Lick.
The Sakai high up in the trees, could watch the surging
of the underwood, as the great beasts rolled through it,
but the footfall of the elephants made no noise, and, save
when one or another of the animals cracked a bough, in
order to feed upon the leaves, the progress of the herd
was wonderfully unmarked by sound. The wind of
the Sakai passed over their heads, but presently they
scented Pandak Aris. And in a moment a perfect
torrent of trumpetings and squealings broke the stillness.
This was followed by a wild crashing, tearing noise,
and Pandak Aris, awake at last, fancied that the whole
herd was charging down upon him. It is often difficult
to tell in which direction big game are moving, when
they rush through the jungle, but, on this occasion,

16 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the herd had been seized with panic, and was in full
flight.

Over and over again, while the light of the moon
held out, game of all kinds made its way to a point
below the wind, whence to approach the Salt-Lick,
and each time their noses told them that men were in
possession. The savage blowing and snorting of the
wild kine ; the grunting of a pack of pig ; the loud
frightened barking of a stag : all sounded in turn, and
each was succeeded by the snapping of dry twigs,
and the crashing of rent underwood, which told of a
hasty retreat.

At first, Pandak Aris sought shelter in the branches
of the tree, but, in a little space, the agony of dis-
comfort he suffered from his uneasy seat, and from the
red ants swarming over him, drove him once more to
brave the perils of the earth.

At about 2.30 a.m. the moon sank to rest, and a black
darkness, which must be experienced to be understood,
fell upon the forest. Though Pandak Aris squatted or
lay at the edge of the open, he was unable to see his
own hand when he waved it before his eyes ; and the
impenetrable gloom, that surrounded him, wrought his
already overstrained nerves to a pitch of agonised
intensity.

And now a fresh horror was lent to the situation,
for the game no longer troubled themselves to approach
the Salt-Lick from below the wind. At intervals,
Pandak Aris could hear some unknown beast splashing
in the waters of the Misong, or treading softly upon the
kneaded earth, within a few feet of him. He was
covered with a thousand biting sand-flies — the tiny

IN THE VALLEY OF THE T£LOM 17

insect which the Malays say has a bet that he will
swallow a man, and seems anxious on all occasions to
try to win his wager. They came from the beasts,
which now crowded the Salt- Lick, and they clung
to the Malay's bare skin, and nestled into his hair,
driving him almost frantic with the fierce itching
they occasioned.

Now and again, some brute would pass so near to
him that Pandak Aris could hear the crisp sound of its
grazing, or the rhythm of its heavy breath. Occasion-
ally, one or other of them would wind him, as the
sudden striking of hoofs against the ground, and an
angry snorting or blowing would make plain. But
all this time Pandak Aris could see nothing.

Many times he clambered into the tree, but his
tired bones could not rest there, and the fierce red ants
bit him angrily, and drove him once more to the earth.

Shortly before the dawn, Pandak Aris was startled
out of an uneasy, fitful sleep, by the sound of some
huge animal passing very near him. He could hear it
even more distinctly than he had yet done any of the
other beasts which had peopled his waking nightmare.
Then, suddenly came a mighty blowing, a fierce
snort, and some monster — he knew not what — charged
him viciously. Pandak Aris lay flat upon the ground,
and the beast passed over him, doing him no harm,
save that a portion of the fleshy part of his thigh was
pinched violently by a hoof which cut cleanly, for
Pandak Aris could feel the warm blood trickling freely.
He still lay flat upon the earth, in the dead darkness,
too frightened to move, with his heart leaping chokingly
into his gullet. But his assailant had not yet done

1 8 S7VDIES IN BROWN HUMAN ITT

with him. A warm blowing upon his face, which
almost deprived him of reason, told him that some
animal was standing over him. Almost instinctively,
he felt for his parang^ or long, keen wood - knife,
and drew it gently to his side, grasping the handle
firmly in his right hand. Presently, amid a tumult of
angry snortings, something hard seemed to be insinu-
ated beneath his body. Pandak Aris moved quickly to
avoid this new horror, and clung convulsively to the
ground. Again and again, first on one side, and then
on the other, this hard prodding substance sought to
force itself below him. It bruised him terribly, beating
the wind from his lungs, sending dull pangs through
his whole body at each fresh prod, and leaving him
feint and gasping.

Pandak Aris never knew how long this lasted. To
him it seemed a month or two, but the situation was
still unchanged when the light began to return to the
earth.

Dawn comes rapidly in the Peninsula, up to a
certain point, though the sun takes time to arise from
under its bed-clothes of white cloud. One moment
all is dark as the Bottomless Pit ; another, and a new
sense is given to the watcher — or so it seems — the
sense of form. A minute or two more, and the
power to distinguish colour comes almost as a surprise
— the faint, dim green of the grass, the yellow of a
pebble, the brown of a faded leaf, each one a new
quality in a familiar object, hitherto unnoticed and un-
suspected. So it was with Pandak Aris. All in a
moment he began to see ; and what his eyes showed
him did not tend to reassure him. He looked up at a

IN THE VALLEY OF THE T$LOM 19

vast and overwhelming bulk of blackness, that seemed
to completely overshadow him, and he knew his
assailant for a seladang^ the largest of all beasts, save
only the elephant, though many say that in strength the
wild bull can outmatch even him. Presently, as the
light grew in power, Pandak Aris could see the black
hairy hide, the gray belly, the long fringe of shaggy
hair at the beast's throat, the smoking nostrils, wide
open, and of a dim red, and the cruel eyes looking
angrily into his.

Almost before he knew what he had done, Pandak
Aris had seized his wood-knife in both hands, and with
the instinct of self-preservation, had drawn its long,
keen edge across the monster's throat. A deluge of
blood fell into the man's face, and the selddang^ snorting
fiercely, stamped with its off fore-foot. The heavy
hoof fell on Pandak Aris's left arm, reducing it to a
shapeless mass, but the wounded limb telegraphed no
signal of pain to the brain, which was working too
eagerly on its own account to take heed of aught
else.

Still standing upon the arm of its victim, the
iiladang tried again and again to force its horn beneath
Pandak Aris's body, and all the while the wood-knife,
worked by the still uninjured hand, sawed relentlessly
at the brute's throat. Presently, the bull began to feel
the deadly sickness which comes before death, and it
fell heavily upon its knees. It floundered up again,
bruising Pandak Aris once more as it did so. Then it
reeled away, sinking to its knees again and again,
while the blood poured, in great, far-carrying jets, from
the widening gap in its throat. Presently it sank to

20 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the ground, and, after tearing up the earth angrily in
its death agony, lay still for ever.

c Yonder lies much meat ! ' grunted one of the
Sakai to his neighbour. That was their only comment
on what had occurred.

Now that the fight was over, and that daylight had
come, they climbed down out of the tree. They
stooped over the insensible body of Pandalc Aris, and
when they found that he still lived, they bandaged his
wounds, not unskilfully, with strips of his sarong. Then,
they built a make-shift raft, and placed the wounded
man upon it, together with as much seladang beef
as it would carry. Wading down stream, one at
the bow, and one at the stern of the raft, they reached
the camp that they had left the preceding morning,
and there they feasted in plenty on the good red meat.

Pandak Aris was tough and blessed with a mighty
constitution, so, when he regained consciousness, he
also ate of the body of his enemy.

1 1 cut his throat, and, while doing so, I mind me
that I murmured the word Bishmillah — in the name
of God — wherefore it was lawful for me to eat of a
beast which had been killed according to the rites of
Muhammad,' he said to me, in after days, and I was
less surprised at the ease with which he had salved his
conscience, than I was at his ability to eat meat at all,
after such an adventure.

The Sakai got him back to his house, rafting him
gently down stream, and his wife, Minah of the soft-
eyes, tended him devotedly, till naught but scars, and
a useless left arm, remained to tell of his encounter
with the seladang.

IN THE PALLET OF THE 7&L0M 21

This was the one incident that served to break the
dead monotony of Pandalc Aris's many days of life ;
and perhaps he was right in thinking that this single
night held sufficient excitement and adventure to last
any man for all his years.

THE FATE OF LEH THE STROLLING
PLAYER

I made them to laugh till their ribs were sore,
I made them to weep till their eyes were red,
I bore their hearts through the carnage of War,
I bore them back to the day they were wed.
I gave them to think of the babe in the hut.
Of the soft -eyed wife, with a tender love j
I carried them out of their life's dull rut,
And wafted them up to the World Above !
Ah, my skill was great in the playing !

I fill'd them with Hate, till their hands ran blood,
I scourged them with Lust, like a raging fire,
I whipped their souls to a hurrying flood,
I fill'd them with torture of Vain Desire ;
Their skins grew parch'd, »nd their eyes wax'd hot,
While I drove them whither no man should go j
Their souls were my toys, to play with, I wot.
And I toss'd them down to the World Below !
Ah, my skill was great in the playing !

The Chant of the Minnesinger.

At Kota Bharu, the Capital of Kelantan, the Powers
that be are at great pains to preserve a kind of cock-
>/eyed, limping, knock-kneed Morality, which goes on
ajl fou rs with their notion of the eternal fitness of
things. Yam Tuan Mulut Merah — the Red-Mouthed

FATE OF LEH THE STROLLING PLATER 23

King — did his best to discourage theft ; and with
this laudable intention killed, during his long reign,
sufficient men and women to have repeopled a new
country half the size of his own kingdom. Old Nek
'Soh, the Dato' Sri Paduka, who stood by and saw
most of the killing done, still openly laments that all
the thieves and robbers were not made over to him,
instead of being wasted in the shambles. With so
large a following, he says, he might have started a new
dynasty in the Peninsula, and still have had enough
men and women at his disposal to enable him to sell
one or two, when occasion required, if ready money
was hard to come by. Nek 'Soh is a wise old man,
and he probably is sure of his facts, but though his
influence with [his master, the Red-Mouthed King,
was great in most things, he never succeeded in
persuading him to try the experiment. So the King
continued to slay robbers, suspected thieves, and the
relations and relatives of convicted or accused persons,
while Nek *Soh mourned over the sinful waste of .
good material, and the bulk of the population thieved *
and robbed as persistently and as gaily as ever.

It must be owned that these efforts at reform were
not encouraging in their results, and perhaps this is
why, so long as the Red-Mouthed King, with Nek
'Soh at his side, was responsible for the government of
the country, no other attempts to improve the morality
of the people of Kelantan were made by the dis-
heartened rulers.

At length, in the fulness of time, old Mulut Merah
died, and his son, and later his grandson, ruled in his
stead. Nek 'Soh continued to have a hand in the

24 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

government of the country, but a younger man than
he, was now the principal adviser and soon the real
ruler of Kelantan. This person bore the title of Maha
Mentri, which means the Great Minister, and since he
was young and energetic he plunged hotly into reforms
which were destined, as he forecast them, to revolu-
tionise the ways and manners of the good people of
Kelantan. Quite oblivious of the feet that mutilation
and sudden death, to which an added horror was lent
by some ingenious contrivances cunningly devised with
the amiable object of increasing the intensity of the
pain inflicted upon the unfortunate victims, had com-
pletely failed to cure the Kelantan folk's innate
propensity to rob and thieve, Maha Mentri conceived
the bold idea of forthwith converting an irreligious
people into fervent and bigoted Muhammadans. To
this end, he insisted upon attendance at the Friday
congregational prayers, even to the breaking of the
heads of recalcitrant church-goers ; he observed, and
personally superintended the observance of Fasts ; he
did his best to prevent the use of silk garments by any
save the women-folk, and this, be it remembered, in a
country which is famed for its silk fabrics ; he put
down cock-fighting, bull matches, prize-fights, hunting,
and the keeping of dogs, — all the sports of the wealthy,
in fact ; and while he pried into the home of every
family in the capital, with the laudable object of
ascertaining whether the inmates prayed regularly at
each of the Five Hours of Appointed Prayer, he dealt an
even more severe blow to the bulk of the population
by forbidding the performance of the ma'iong, or
heroic plays, such as are acted throughout the length

FATE OF LEH THE STROLLING PLATER 25

and breadth of the Peninsula by troupes of strolling
players, but which are an amusement that is specially
dear to the hearts of the good people of Kelantan.

These plays are performed inside a small, square
paddock, enclosed by a low bamboo railing, but other-
wise open on all four sides, so as to give the spectators
an unobstructed view of all that goes forward within.
A palm-leaf roof protects the players from the sun by
day, and from the heavy dews of the tropics by night ;
and whenever a mcfiong shed is erected upon a new
site, the Pawang, or Medicine Man, who is also the
Actor-Manager of the company, performs certain
magic rites with cheap incense, and other unsavoury
offerings to the Spirits, reciting many ancient in-
cantations the while to the Demons of Earth and
Air, beseeching them to watch over his people, and
to guard them from harm. First he calls upon Black
Awang, King of the Earth, who is wont to wander in
the veins of the ground, and to take his rest at the
Portals of the World ; next to the Holy Ones, the
local demons of the place ; and finally to his Grand-
sire, PgtSra Guru, the Teacher who is from the
Beginning, who is incarnate from his birth, the
Teacher who dwelleth as a hermit in the recesses of
the Moon, and practiseth his magic arts in the Womb
of the Sun, the Teacher whose coat is wrought of
green beads, whose blood is white, who hath but a
single bone, the hairs of whose body stand erect, the
pores of whose skin are adamant, whose neck is black,
whose tongue is fluent, whose spittle is brine ! All
these he prays to guard his people, and then he cries
to them to aid him by opening the gates of Lust and

26 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Passion, together with the gates of Desire and Credulity,
and the gates of Desire and Longing, the Longing which
lasteth from dawn unto dawn, which causeth food to
cease to satisfy, which maketh sleep uneasy, which
remembering maketh memory unceasing, causeth
hearing to hear, seeing to see !

These exhortations to Spirits, which should find no
place in the Demonology of any good Muhammadan,
were naturally regarded as an Uncleanness and an
Abomination by the strait-laced Maha Mentri j and
not content with prohibiting the performances of the
ma'iongy he made life so excessively unattractive to the
actors and actresses themselves, that many bands
of them trooped over the jungle -clad mountains,
which divide KSlantan from Pahang, to roam the
country playing for hire at the weddings and feasts
of a people who, no matter what other faults they
may have, cannot justly be accused of bigotry or
fanaticism.

So great joy was brought to the natives of Pahang,
and from end to end of the land the throbbing beat of
the mafiong drums, the clanging of the gongs, the
scrapings of the ungainly Malay fiddles, the demented
shrieks and wailings of the serunai, and the roars of
hearty laughter, which greet each one of the clown's
jests, made merry discord in the villages. The gates of
Lust and Passion, the gates of Desire and Longing, —
that Longing which lasteth from dawn unto dawn,
which causeth food to cease to satisfy, which maketh
sleep uneasy, — were opened wide that tide, and there
were tales of woe brought in from many a village in
the long Pahang valley. While the ma'tong was

FATE OF LEH THE STROLLING PLATER 27

a-playing no one had any care for the crops, the women
left their babies and their cooking -pots, and the
elders of the people were as stage-struck as the boys
and maidens. When the strolling actors moved
forward upon their way, having squeezed a village dry
of its last copper coins, many of the kampong folk
followed in their train, cadging for their food from the
people at each halting-place, enduring many hardships
often enough, but seemingly unable to tear themselves
away from the fascinations of the players and of the
actresses. Many lawful wives found themselves de-
serted by their men, and the husbands and fathers in
the villages had to keep a sharp eye upon the doings
of their wives and daughters while the mcfiong folk
were in the neighbourhood ; for when once the dead
monotony of their lives is broken into by some un-
usual occurrence, the morality of the Malay villagers,
which is generally far better than that of the natives
of the Capitals, quickly goes to pieces, like a wrecked /
ship in the trough of an angry sea.

Of all the Actor-Managers who were then roaming
up and down Pahang, none were so successful both
with the play-goers and with the women, as Saleh, or
Leh, as he was usually called, for Malay energy is /'
rarely equal to the effort necessary for the articulatioir
of the whole of a proper name. In their mouths the
dignified Muhammad becomes the plebeian Mat,
Sulehman,— our old friend Solomon, — is reduced to
plain Man, and a like evil fate is shared by other high-
sounding, sonorous names. This is worth noticing,
because it is very typical of the propensity, which the
Malay can never resist, to scamp every bit of labour,

28 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Nv . no matter how light its nature, that falls to his share
in this workaday world.

Leh was a man of many accomplishments. He
played the fiddle, in most excruciating wise, to the
huge delight of all the Malays who heard him ; he was
genuinely funny, when he had put his hideous red
mask, with its dirty sheepskin top, which stood for
the hair of his head, over his handsome, clever face,
and roars of laughter greeted him at every turn ; he
had a keen eye for a topical joke, a form of satire much
appreciated by his Malay audiences ; he had a happy
knack of imitating the notes of birds, and the cry of
any animal ; and above all he was a skilled Rhapsodist,
and with that melodious voice of his would sing the
wonderful story of Awang Lotong, the Monkey Prince,
which is a bastard, local version of the Ramayana, until
the cocks were crowing to a yellow dawn. He travelled
with me, on one occasion, for a fortnight, and I had
the whole of the Folk-Tale written down, and when
\ completed it covered the best part of sixty folios, yet
1 Leh knew every word of it by rote, and could be
I turned on at any point, continuing the story every
I time in precisely the same words. He had learned it
from an old man in Kelantan, and he was reputed to
be the only surviving bard to whom the whole of the
tale was known. In due course I sent the manuscript,
with a translation, and elaborate notes to a Learned
Society, where it was lost with the usual promptitude
and despatch.

It was always a marvel to me that Leh escaped
having some angry man's knife thrust deftly between
his fourth and fifth ribs, for the natives of Pahang are

FATE OF LEH THE STROLLING PLATER 29

wont to discourage too successful lovers by little
attentions of this sort, and Leh was much loved by the
women-folk, both high and low, throughout the length
and breadth of the land. Perhaps he was as cunning
as he was successful, for he certainly lived to return to
his own country.

This was rendered possible for all the ma long people
by the sudden death of Maha Mentri. This great
and good man, — the self-appointed Champion of
Muhammadanism, the enforcer of Prayer, the orderer
of Fasts for the mortification of the erring flesh, — like
some other zealous people, who in the cause of Religion
have contrived to make their neighbours' lives as little
worth living as possible, had one little weakness which
marred the purity and consistency of his character.
This was an irrepressible impulse to break the Seventh
Commandment, a strange failing in a man who was
so scrupulous that he would not even suffer himself to
be photographed when a view of Kota Bharu, in which
several hundreds of people figured, was being taken.
This is but one of the startling inconsistencies which
are to be remarked in the religious Oriental. Until
one has become familiar with an Eastern People, it
is difficult to realise how far the Letter of the Law
may be pushed by a man who, allN^e while, is daily
defying its Spirit.

The good people of Kclantan bore with Maha
Mentri and his little peculiarities for a considerable
time, and they might, perhaps, even have suffered
him for a longer period, tad it not been for the fact
that his religious fanaticism, on subjects which did
not happen to hit him in a tender place, had the effect

30 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMJNI7T

of making life a more evil thing than seemed to be
altogether necessary. Be this how it may, upon a
certain night Maha Mentri was shot through the
flooring of another man's house by the owner thereof,
ably and actively assisted by two other men, who were
entirely convinced that there was not sufficient room
for them and for Maha Mentri upon the surface of
one and the same Planet.

Everybody knew who had done the deed, and the
Raja would dearly have loved to take a life for a life,
but the murderers were under the protection of a young
prince, with whom, for political reasons, the Raja could
not afford to precipitate a quarrel. Therefore he and
his advisers professed to wonder very much indeed who
could have been so unmannerly as to shoot Maha
Mentri in three several places ; and there the matter
ended, in spite of the clamorous protests of the dead
man's relatives.

Very soon the news of Maha Mgntri's death spread
through Pahang, word being brought by the trading
boats lurching down the Coast, or by the sweating
villagers who trudged across the mountains to bring
the glad tidings to the exiles from Kelantan, to whose
return the presence of Maha Mentri had hitherto been
a very sufficient obstacle.

So the ma* long folk packed their gear, and started
back for their own country, and many men and
maidens were left lamenting, when the players who
had loved them strode away.

Leh went back by sea, with half a dozen broken
hearts in his gendong (bundle), and soon after his
return, he was appointed to the post of Court Minstrel,

FATE OF LEH THE STROLLING PLATER 31

and Master of the royal Dancing Girls. For the
Kelantan to which he came back, was a very different
place from the land which he had quitted when he
started out for Pahang. As soon as the worthy Maha
Mentri had been laid in his grave, the reaction, which
always follows any paroxysm of religiosity, set in in
full force, and for a season Kelantan was a merry land
for a pleasure-lover to make his home in. The Five
Hours of Appointed Prayer were suffered to slip by
unregarded of the people ; no man troubled himself to
fast more than his stomach thought fitting ; and the
music of the ma'tong was once more heard in the land.

In this new and joyful Kelantan, Leh found himself
very much in his element. The old Pillar Dollars,
which are the standard currency of the country, came
rolling merrily in, and Leh was able to go abroad
among his fellows lavishly clad, from the waist down-
wards, in a profusion of gaily-coloured silk sarongs and
sashes, such as the souls of the Kelantan people love.
He wore no coat, of course, for in this State that
garment is never used, except by the Nobles on official
occasions when strangers chance to be present.

Leh was never a man to keep all his good fortune
to himself, and not only a select few of the King's
Dancing Girls, but a countless troop of other dames
and maidens, who should rightly have been entirely
occupied with their lawful lords and masters, came in
for a large share of the spoil. Given a well -set -up
figure, a handsome face, gay garments, a witty tongue,
and a superfluity of ready money, and a far less clever
and engaging fellow than Leh, the Strolling Player,
might be expected to win the facile heart of any average

32 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMAN ITT

Malay woman. It was not long before the best-
favoured half of the ladies of Kota Bharu, — and that
means a surprisingly large proportion of the female
population of the place, — were, to use the Malay
phrase, c mad ' for Leh. The natives of the Peninsula
recognise that Love, when it wins a fair grip upon
a man, is as much a disease of the mind as any other
yform of insanity ; and since it is more common than
many manias, they speak of the passion as c madness '
par excellence. And this was the ailment from which
a large number of the ladies of Kota Bharu were now
suffering with greater or lesser severity, according to
their several temperaments.

This state of things naturally caused a considerable
amount of dissatisfaction to the whole of the male
community, and the number of the malcontents grew
and grew, as the c madness ' spread among the women-
folk. The latter began soon to throw off all disguise,
for they were too numerous for even the most exten-
sive system of wife and daughter beating to effectually
cope with the trouble. When they were not occupied
in waylaying Leh ; in ogling him as he swaggered
past their dwellings, cocking a conquering eye through
the doorways ; the ladies of Kota Bharu were now
often engaged in shrill and hard-fought personal en-
counters one with another. Each woman among
them was wildly jealous of all her fellows ; mother
suspecting daughter and daughter accusing mother of
receiving more than her fair share of Leh's generous
and widely scattered attentions. Many were the
scratches made on nose and countenance, long and
thick the tussocks of hair reft from one another by

FATE OF LEH THE STROLLING PLATER 33

the angry ladies, and the men beholding these im-
possible goings-on with horror and dismay said among
themselves that Leh, the Strolling Player, must die.

He was a good man of his hands, and badly as they
felt about him no one saw his way to engaging him
in single combat, though enough men and to spare
were ready to have a hand in the killing. At last,
a committee of three angry men was appointed, by
general consent, and these lay in wait for Leh, during
several successive evenings, in the hopes of finding him
returning alone from the md'iong shed.

It was on the third night of their vigil that their
chance came. The moon was near the full, and the
heavy, hard shadows lay across the ground, under the
gently waving palm-fronds, like solid objects. The
footpath which leads from the main thoroughfare into
the villages around Kota Bharu branches off some
twenty yards from the spot where the watchers lay con-
cealed. The Committee of Three sat huddled up, in the
blackness cast upon the bare earth by a native house just
within the clustering compounds, and the vivid Eastern
moonlight gave up the colour of the yellow sun-baked
soil, the green of the smooth banana leaves, even the red
of the clusters of rambut-an fruits on a neighbouring tree.

Presently the sound of voices, talking and laughing
1 i gh t hear ted ly, came to the ears of the listening men,
and as the speakers drew nearer, the Committee of
Three were able to distinguish Leh's mellow tones.
At the parting of the ways Leh turned off by himself
along the footpath, the others, with whom he had
been walking, keeping still to the main road. Leh
took leave of them, with a farewell jest or two which

34 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

sent the others laughing upon their way, and then he
strolled slowly along the footpath, humming the air
of Awang Lotong under his breath. The Three, in
the shadow of the house, could see the colour of the
gaudy cloths wound about Leh's waist, the fantastic
peak into which his head-kerchief was twisted, the
glint of the polished yellow wood and the gold settings
of his dagger- hilt, and the long, broad -bladed spear
that he carried in his hand. They watched him draw
nearer and yet more near to them, still humming gently,
and wearing a half smile upon his face. They suffered
him to come abreast of them, to stroll past them, all
unsuspicious of evil ; but no pity for him was in their
hearts, for they had all been injured in a deadly manner
by this callous, lighthearted libertine, who now went
to the death he knew not of with a smile on his face,
and a stave of a song upon his lips.

As soon as Leh had passed them, the Committee
of Three stepped noiselessly out of the shadow, and
sounding their s6rak y or war-cry, into which they
threw all the pent-up hatred of their victim which for
months had been devouring their hearts, plunged their
spears into his naked brown back. Leh fell upon his
face with a thick choking cough, and a few more
vigorous spear-thrusts completed the work which the
Committee had been appointed to perform.

They left the body of Leh, the Strolling Player,
lying where it had fallen, face downwards in the dust
of the footpath, and though the King did all that lay
in his power to discover the secret of the identity of
the murderers, and though half the women-folk in the
Capital seconded his efforts to the utmost, hoping

FATE OF LEH THE STROLLING PLATER 35

that thereby their lover's death might be avenged, the
men who had planned the deed kept their secret well,
so no punishment could be meted out to those who had
actually brought about the destruction of the Warden /
of the King's Dancing Girls. But in the eyes of Malay — *
Justice, — which is a very weird thing indeed, — if you
cannot punish the right man, it is better to come
down heavily upon the wrong one, than to allow
everybody to get off scot free. The house near to
which the body of Leh had been found, chanced to
be tenanted only by an old crone and her widowed
daughter, with her three small children, but none the
less, this hut was taken as the centre of a circle of
one hundred fathoms radius, and all whose dwellings
chanced to lie within its circumference, whether men
or women, old or young, whole or bedridden, women
great with child, or babes at the breast, were indiffer-
ently fined the sum of three dollars each — a large sum
for a Malay villager to be called upon to pay, and a
delightfully big total, from the King's point of view,
when all heads had been counted.

This new system of punishment by fine has several
advantages attaching to it. In the first place it en-
hances the revenue of the King, which is a matter of
some moment ; and secondly, if you chance to have
a quarrel with some one whom you are unable to get
even with in any other way, you need only leave a
corpse at his front door, which, in a land where life is
is cheap as it is in Kelantan, is an easy~~matter "to
arranged If the corpse, by any chance, should be that
of a man who has done you an injury, you will kill
two birds with one stone. Which is economical.

Omat

Fat rice to eat and viands sweet,

A mat on which to lie,
No feckless toil to mar and spoil

The hours that saunter by ;
Man-child and wife to cheer my life,

What need a man ask more?
Save just my sight and God's own light

To see as once I saw.

The punkah swings freely for a space ; then gradually
shortens its stride ; hovers for a moment, oscillating
gently, in answer to the feeble jerking of the cord ;
almost stops ; and then is suddenly galvanised into a
violent series of spasm -like leaps and bounds, each
one less vigorous than the last, until once more the
flapping canvas fringe is almost still. It is by signs
such as these that we know that Umat, the punkah-
puller, is sleeping the sleep of the just.

If you look behind the screen which cloaks the
doorway, you will see him, and, if the afternoon is
very warm and still, you may even hear his soft, regular
breathing, and the gentle murmur with which his nose
is wont to mark the rhythm of his slumber. An old
cotton handkerchief is bound about his head, in such

yifu\ * v)(^

Va*t*A~?

tiMAT 37

a manner that his bristles of hair stand up stiffly, all
over his scalp, in a circular enclosure, like the trainers in
a garden of young sirlh vines. On his back he wears
an old, old coat of discoloured yellow khaki, once the
property of a dead policeman. The Government buttons
have been taken away from him, by a relentless Police
Inspector, and their place is supplied by thorns,
cunningly arranged pieces of stick, and one or two
wooden studs. The shoulder-straps flap loosely, and
their use is a problem on which Umat often ponders,
but which he is never able to satisfactorily solve. A
cotton sarong — not always of the cleanest, I fear — is
round Umat's waist, and, falling to his knees, supplies
the place of all other lower garments. For Umat is
both comfort- loving and economical, and Pahang is
now a free country where a man may go~clad aslie
likes, without fear of some ill-thing befalling him.
Less than ten years ago, a man who went abroad
without his trousers ran a good chance of never re-
turning home again, since Pahang Malays were apt to
think that such an one was no lover of war. Among
Malays, who are the most personally modest people in
the world, it is well known that no man may fight
with a whole heart when, at every moment, he runs.
the risk of exposing his nakedness ; and, in days gone
by, the natives of Pahang were well pleased to display
their prowess in mangling one from whom little re-
sistance could be expected. But, in Kelantan, where
Umat was born, few men possess trousers, and no one
who loves to be comfortable wears them, when he can
avoid doing so.

Below his sarong, goodly lengths of bare and hairy

38 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

leg are visible, ending in broad splay feet, with soles
that seem shod with horn ; for Umat could dance bare-
foot in a thorn thicket with as much comfort as upon
a velvet carpet.
>r He half sits, half lies, huddled up in a wicker-work

arm-chair, his head canted stiffly over his right shoulder,
his eyes tight shut, and his mouth wide open, exposing
two rows of blackened tusks, and a fair expanse of gums
and tongue stained scarlet with areca-nut. His feet
are on the seat of the chair, one doubled snugly under
him, with the suppleness of the Oriental, and the other
supporting the knee upon which his chin may rest as
occasion requires. The pull -cord of the punkah is
made fast about his right wrist, and his left hand holds
it limply, his arms moving forward and backwards
mechanically in his sleep. At his feet, hummi ng
coqtentrdly to himself, sits a tiny brown boy, dressed
chastely in a large cap and a soiled pocket-hand-
kerchief; and thus Umat dreams away many hours of
his life. If his sleeping memory takes him back to

^the days when he followed me upon the war-path,

when we went a-fishing on a dirty night, or when
the snipe were plentiful, and the bag a big one, the
punkah dances merrily, and takes a violent part in the
action of which he dreams. But, if Omat's mind
plays about the tumble-down cottage in my compound,
which he calls 'home,' and dwells upon his soft-eyed,
gentle wife, Selema, and upon the children he loves so
very dearly, or if his dreams conjure up memories
of good meals, and quiet sleepy nights, then in sympathy
the punkah moves softly, sentimentally, and stops.
r c Tdrek ! Pull ! ' comes a voice from the inner room,

UMJT 39

and Umat, awakened with a start, bursts into voluble
reproaches, addressed to himself in the guttural speech
of the Kelantan people. Then he falls asleep more
soundly than ever.

If you run up the East Coast of the Peninsula, past
the smiling shores of Pahang and Trengganu, you at
last reach the spot where the bulk of the Kelantan
river-water formerly made its way into the China Sea.
The better entrance is now a mile or two farther up
the Coast, but the groves of palm-trees show that the
people have been less fickle than the river, and that the
villages at the old mouth are still tenanted as of yore.
It is here that Umat was born and bred, the son of a
family of Fisher Folk, countless generations of whom
have dwelt at Kuala Kelantan ever since the beginning
of things.

If you look at Umat's round face, and observe it
carefully, you may read therein much that bears upon
the history of his people. The prevailing expression
is one of profoundly calm patience — not that look of
waiting we understand by the term, the patience which,
with restless Europeans, presupposes some measure of
anticipation, and of the pain of hope long deferred —
but the contented endurance of one who is satisfied to
be as he is j of one whose lot is unchanging, and
whose desires are few. It is a negative expression,
without sadness, without pain, or the fever of longing,
and yet sufficiently far removed from dulness or
stupidity. It speaks of long years during which U mat's
forebears have laboured stolidly, have been as driven
cattle before prince and chief, and yet, since the curse

4b STUDIES IN BROWN HVMANITT

of knowledge that better things existed had not fallen
upon them, have accepted their lot as they found it,
unresisting and uncomplaining.

This is what one reads in Umat's face when it is in
repose, but, when emotion changes it, other things
may be seen as clearly. Suddenly, his features break
up into a thousand creases, the brown skin puckering
in numberless spreading lines, like the surface of a
muddy puddle into which a stone has fallen. A laugh
like the crowing of a cock, combined with the roaring
of a bull, accompanied this phenomenon, and you
may then know that Umat's keen sense of humour
has been tickled. It does not take much to amuse
him, for, like most Malays, he is very light-hearted,
and anything which has a trace of fun in it delights
him hugely. Almost every Kelantan fishing boat
that puts to sea carries its alanalan^ or jester, along
with it, for toil is lightened if men be merry, and, in
days gone by, Umat was the most popular man in his
village. A quaint phrase ; a happy repartee, not
always in the most refined language ; the rude mimicry
of some personal eccentricity ; a word or two of rough
chaff; or a good story ; such things are his stock in
trade, and this is why Umat is so well beloved by his
fellows.

But he can be grave, too. As my raft whirls down
a rapid, a clumsy punt sends it reeling to what looks
like certain destruction. Umat's face sets hard. His
teeth are clenched, his lips compressed tightly. His
bare feet grapple the slippery bamboos with clinging
grip, and his twenty-foot punting-pole describes a circle
above his head. The point alights, with marvellous

tMAT 41

rapidity, and unerring aim, upon the only projecting
ridge of rock within immediate reach, and all mat's
weight is put into the push, while his imprisoned
breath breaks loose in an excited howl. The raft
cants violently, and wallows knee-deep, but the danger
of instant destruction is averted, and we tear through
the fifty yards of foaming, boiling, rock-beset water,
which divides us from the rapid's foot, without further
mishap. Then, Umat's face relaxes, and his queer
laugh resounds, as he chaffs the man, whose clumsiness
had nearly been our ruin, with unmerciful disregard
for his feelings.

His promptness to see the nature of the emergency,
his ready presence of mind, his quick, decisive action,
that saves us from a break-up, which, in a boiling,
foaming rapid, is no pleasant experience, have little to
do with Umat himself. He owes all to his kinsmen,
the Fisher Folk, who have been accustomed to risk
their lives on the fishing banks, amid the sandy river
bars, the rocky headlands, and the treacherous waves
of the China Sea, for many unrecorded centuries.
Readiness to face a danger, prompt and fearless action,
quick apprehension of the best means of escape, are
qualities without which the race would long ere this
have become extinct, and in ft mat these things amount
to absolute instincts.

But he can, on occasion, show pluck of quite another
kind — the courage which is no mere flash-in-the-pan,
born of excitement, and owing its origin to an instinct
of self-preservation — that long-enduring fearlessness in
"the face of a danger, before which a man must sit down
and wait. It is no light thing to stare death in the

42 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

eyes for days or weeks together, to expect it in some
cruel, merciless form, and yet to possess one's soul in
patience, and to keep a heart in one's body that does
not sink and quail. Yet, Umat is capable of this higher
form of courage, as you shall presently hear, and though
v/fhe limitations of his imagination stand him in good
j\ stead, and doubtless make the situation easier to him
I \than it can be to the white man, cursed with the restless
brain of his kind, yet one must give Umat credit for
valour of no mean order. The merriment dies out of
his face at such times, for, unlike my friend, Raja Haji
Hamid, whose eyes were wont to dance, and whose
mouth smiled cheerily when danger was afoot, Umat
comes of a class to whom a gamble with death is a
hated thing. The look of calm patience is in his eyes,
but now he is enduring consciously, and the hard
puckers in his forehead show that his nerves are tightly
strung, and that there is little gladness in his heart.

But Umat's face is capable of yet another change.
When his brown eyes blaze, when his face is full of
excitement, and a torrent of hardly ar ticulate wor ds
bursts headlong from his lips, you may know that
Umat is angry. A tumult of wrathful sound, at the
back of the bungalow, where the servants congregate,
in the covered way which joins the cook-house to the
main building, begins the uproar, and, if you fail to
interfere, some Chinese heads will infallibly be broken
in several places. Knowing this, I run to the spot,
and reduce my people to silence. On inquiry, it will
prove to be that the cook has accused Umat of adul-
terating the milk, or the water-coolie, whose business
it also is to make lamps smell and smoke, has charged

tiMAT 43

him with purloining the oil. No words can describe
U mat's fury, and indignation, if he is indeed guiltless ;
but he is a bad liar, and, if the charges are true, his
manner soon betrays him, and his wrath fails to con-
vince. In a little time, he will produce the bottle of
lamp-oil from the folds of his sarong^ and, laughing
sheepishly, will claim that praise should be his portion,
since the bottle is only half full. He takes my pungent
remarks with exaggerated humility, and, five minutes
later, the compound will be ringing with the songs he
loves to bellow. It is not possible to be angry with
Umat for long. He is so very childlike , and I, in common
with many others, love him better than he deserves.

I first met Cmat in 1890, when, after a year spent
in Europe, I returned to Pahang, and took charge of
the interior. I was very lonely. My Malay followers
had been scattered to the winds during my absence in
England, and I had none but strangers about me.
The few European miners scattered about the district
were only met with from time to time. The Pahang
Malays stood aloof from us, and I found the isolation
dreary enough. Pahang had had an ill name on the
Coast, any time these last, three hundred years, and^
until the white men/ protected the country , few
sfrHIgenf cared to set foot in a land where life was held
on such a precarious tenure. But, presently, the
whisper spread through the villages of Trengganu and
Kelantan that work found a high price in Pahang
under the white men, and a stream of large-limbed
Malays, very different in appearance from the slender
people of the land, began to pour over the borders.

44 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

On this stream Umat was borne to me, and, since then,
he has never left me, nor will he, probably, till the
time comes for one or the other of us to have his toes
turned up to the love-grass.

Umat saw that I was lonely, and perhaps he dimly
realised that I was_an_object_g£_pity, for he would
creep into my bungalow, and, seating himself upon the
floor, would tell me tales of his own people until the
night was far advanced. HTs dialect was strange to
me, at that time, and the manner in which he elided
some of his vowels and most of his consonants puzzled
me sorely. I could not understand the system under
which dnam (six) shrank into ne\ and kerbau (buffalo)
became kuba > ; but I let him talk on — for was he not
my only companion ? — and, in the end, I not onlv
learnt to understand him, but actually to^speak his
barbarous lingo.

So Umat and I became friends, and life was to me
a trifle less dreary because he was at hand. He taught
me many things which I did not know, and his_sirnple
stories, told with little skill, served to enliven many an
houT^fcnistmigToveTwTielming solitude.

Then came a period when trouble darkened the
land, and I turned to the war-path, which to me was
then so strange and unfamiliar, with Umat stamping
along at my heels. He never left me all that time, and
I had many opportunities of testing the quality of his
courage. At last, it became necessary for me to visit a
number of almost openly hostile Chiefs who, with their
six hundred followers, were camped about half a mile
from my stockade. I had only a score of men at my
disposal, and they were needed to hold our frail fort, so

tMAT 45

it became evident to me that I must go alone. I was
not altogether sorry to have the opportunity of doing
so, for I knew how susceptible to c bluff' Malays are apt
to be, and I was aware that in a somewhat ostentatious
display of fearlessness — no matter what my real sensa-
tions might be — lay my best hope of safety. There-
fore, I armed myself carefully, and prepared to set out,
though most of my Malay friends were clamorous in
their efforts to dissuade me. As I started, Umat,
armed with Arts and spear, and with a set look of
resolve upon his face, followed at my heels.

1 It is not necessary for thee to come,' I said. l If
all goes well, there is no need of thee, and, if aught
goes amiss, what profits it that two should suffer instead
of one ? '

Umat grunted, but he did not turn back.

1 Return,' I said. c I have no need of thee.'

I halted as I spoke, but ftmat stood firm, and
showed no signs of obeying me.

1 TuanJ he said, c for how long a time have I eaten
thy rice, when thou wast in prosperity and at ease ; is
it fitting that I should leave thee now that thou art in
trouble ? Tuan^ where thou goest I will go. Where
thou leadest I will follow after.'

I said no more, but went upon my way with Umat
at my heels. I was more touched than I liked to say,
and indeed his courage was of the highest, for he
believed himself to be going to certain death, whereas
I was backing my own opinion of the character of
those with whom I had to deal, and, though the stake
was a big one, I was sufficiently conceited to feel
confident about the result. During the long interview

46 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

with the Chiefs, the knowledge that Umat's great,
fleshy body was wedged in securely between my
enemies and the small of my back, gave me an added
confidence, which was worth many points in my
favour. We won through, and the hostile Chiefs
dispersed their people, and, that night, Umat made
darkness hideous by the discordant yellings with which
he celebrated the occasion, and gave token of the
reaction that followed on the unstringing of his tense
nerves.

Later I was promoted, and Umat came with me to
the Capital, and since then he has lived in a house in
my compound with Sel£ma, the Pahang girl, who has
made him so gentle and faithful a wife. It was soon
after his marriage that his trouble fell upon Umat, and
swept much of the sunshine from his life. He con-
tracted a form of ophthalmia, and for a time was blind.
Native Medicine Men doctored him, and drew sheafs
of needles and bunches of thorns from his eyes, which
they declared were the cause of his affliction. These
miscellaneous odds and ends used to be brought to me
for inspection at breakfast- time, floating, most un-
appetisingly, in a shallow cup half full of water j and
Cmat went abroad with eye-sockets stained crimson,
or black, according to the fancy of the native physician.
The aid of an English doctor was called in, but Umat
was too thoroughly a Malay to trust the more simple
remedies prescribed to him, and, though his blindness
was relieved, and he became able to walk without the
aid of a staff, his eyesight could never really be given
back to him.

But Clmat is sanguine, and, though he has now

jjMJT 47

been blind for years, and each new remedy has proved
to be merely one more disappointment, he still believes
firmly that in time the light will return to him.
Meanwhile, his life holds many emotions. His laugh
rings out, and the compound at night-time resounds
with the songs he loves to improvise, which have for
their theme the marvellous doings of s ftmat the Blind
Man whose eyes cannot see.' His patience has come
to the rescue, and the sorrow of his blindness is a
chastened grief, which he bears with little complaining.
He has aged somewhat, for his sightless orbs make his
face look graver, heavier, duller than of old, but his
heart is as young as ever.

Though his affliction has been a heavy one, other
good things have not kept aloof. One day, as I sit
writing, Umat comes into the room, and presently the
whole house resounds with the news that he expects
shortly to become a father. Umat's face dances with
delight, and excitement, and pride ; but it wears also
an uneasy look, which tells of his anxiety for Selema,
and another new expression which speaks of a fresh-
born love for the child whose arrival he prophesies so
noisily. When the latter feeling is uppermost, Umat's
ugly old race is softened until it looks almost senti-
mental.

Umat rushes off to the most famous midwife in the
place, and presents her with a little brass dish filled with
smooth green sirih leaves, and sixpence of our money
(25 cents) in copper, for such is the retaining fee
prescribed by Malay Custom. The recipient of these
treasures is thereafter held bound to attend the patient
whenever she may be called upon to do so, and when

48 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the confinement is over, she can claim other moneys
in payment of her services. These latter fees are not
ruinously high, according to our standard, two dollars
being charged for attending a woman in her first
confinement, a dollar or a dollar and a half on the
next occasion, and twenty-five, or at the most fifty
cents being deemed sufficient for each subsequent
event.

When Umat has placed the sirih leaves, he has done
all he can for Selema, and he resigns himself to endure
the anxiety of the next few months, with the patience
of which he has so much at command. The pantang
ber-anak, or birth taboos, hem a husband in almost as
rigidly as they do his wife, and Umat, who is as super-
stitious as are all Malays of the lower classes, is filled
with fear lest he should unwittingly transgress any
law, the breach of which might cost Selema her life.
He no longer shaves his head periodically, as he loves
to do, for a naked scalp is very cool and comfortable ;
he does not even cut his hair, and a thick black shock
stands five inches high upon his head, and tumbles
raggedly about his neck and ears. Selema is his first
wife, and never before has she borne children, where-
fore no hair of her husband's must be trimmed until her
days are accomplished. Umat will not kill the fowls
for the cook now, nor even drive a stray dog from the
compound with violence, lest he should chance to
maim it, for he must shed no blood, and must do no
hurt to any living thing during all this time. One
day, he is sent on an errand up river, and is absent
until the third day. On inquiry, it appears that he
passed the night in a friend's house, and on the morrow

^j^

fat*z._&i "

n *•*> *-

tiMAT 49

found that the wife of his host was shortly expecting
to become a mother. Therefore, he had to remain at
least two nights in the village. Why ? Because, if he
failed to do so, Selema would die. Why would she
die ? God alone knows, but such is the teaching of
the men of old, the wise ones of ancient days. But
Umat's chief privation is that he is forbidden to sit in
the doorway of his house. To understand what this ^
means to a Malay, you must realise that the seat in
the doorway, at the head of the stair-ladder that
reaches to the ground, is to him much what the fire- jX
side is to the English peasant. It is here that he sits,
and looks out patiently at life, as the European gazes
into the heart of the fire. It is here that his neigh-
bours come to gossip with him, and it is in the door-
way of his own or his friend's house, that the echo of
the world is borne to his ears. But, while Selema is
ill, Omat may not block the doorway, or dreadful
consequences will ensue, and though he appreciates
this, and makes the sacrifice readily for his wife's sake,
it takes much of the comfort out of his life.

SelSma, meanwhile, has to be equally circumspect.
She bridles her woman's tongue resolutely, and no
word in disparagement of man or beast passes her
lips during all these months, for she has no desire to
see the qualities she dislikes reproduced in the child.
She is often tired to death, and faint and ill before her
hour draws nigh, but none the less she will not lie
upon her mat during the daytime lest her heavy eyes
should close in sleep, since her child would surely fall
a prey to evil spirits were she to do so. Therefore,
she fights on to the dusk, and Umat does all he can

50 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

to comfort her, and to lighten her sufferings, by con-
stant tenderness and care.

One night, when the moon has waxed nearly to
the full, Pekan resounds with a babel of discordant
noise. The large brass gongs, in which the devils of
the Chinese are supposed to take delight, clang and
clash and bray through the still night-air ; the Malay
drums throb, and beat, and thud ; all manner of shrill
yells fill the sky, and the roar of a thousand native
voices rises heavenwards, or rolls across the white
waters of the river, which are flecked with deep
shadows and reflections. The jungles on the far
bank take up the sound, and send it pealing back in

4 recurring ringing echoes, till the whole world seems
to shout in chorus. The Moon which bathes the
Earth in splendour, the Moon which is so dear to

— each one of(Usu is in dire peril, this night, for that
fierce monster, the Gerhana, whom we hate and
loathe, is striving to swallow her. You can mark his
black bulk creeping over her, dimming her face, con-
suming her utterly, while she suffers in the agony of
silence. How often in the past has she served us
with the light ; how often has she made night more
beautiful than day for our tired, sun -dazed eyes to
look upon ; and shall she now perish without one
effort on our part to save her by scaring the Monster
from his prey ? No ! A thousand times no ! So we
shout, and clang the gongs, and beat the drums, till
all the animal world joins in the tumult, and even
inanimate nature lends its voice to swell the uproar
with a thousand resonant echoes. At last, the hated
Monster reluctantly retreats. Our war-cry has reached

(JMAT 51

his ears, and he slinks sullenly away, and the pure,
sad, kindly Moon looks down in love and gratitude
upon us, her children, to whose aid she owes her
deliverance.

But during the period that the Moon's fate hung
in the balance, SelSma has suffered many things. She
has been seated motionless in the fireplace under the
tray-like shelf, which hangs from the low rafters,
trembling with terror of — she knows not what. The
little basket-work stand, on which the hot rice-pot is
wont to rest, is worn on her head as a cap, and in her
girdle the long wooden rice-spoon is stuck dagger-
wise. Neither she nor Umat know why these things
are done, but they never dream of questioning their
necessity. It is the custom. The men of olden days
have decreed that women with child should do these
things when the Moon is in trouble, and the con-
sequences of neglect are too terrible to be risked ;
so SelSma and Umat act according to their simple
faith. W *

Later, comes a day when Selema nearly loses her/'
life by reason of the barbarities which Malay science
considers necessary if a woman is to win through her
confinement without mishap. Umat's brown face is
gray with fear and anxiety, and drawn and aged with
pain. He paces restlessly between the hut, where
Selgma is suffering grievous things, and my study,
where he pours his terror and his sorrow into my . *.
ears, and wets the floor-mats with his great beady - *
tears. Hours pass, and a little feeble cry comes from
Umat's house, the sound which brings with it a world
of joy, and a wonder of relief that sends the apple

52 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

lumping in one's throat, and tears rising to one's eyes.
Umat, mad with delight, almost delirious with relief
that the danger is over, laughing through his tears,
and sobbing in his laughter, rushes to me with the
news that a man-child has been born to him, and that
Selema is safe. Nightly for many weeks after, the
cries of Awang — as the boy is named — break the
peace of my compound during the midnight hour.
The poor little shapeless brown atomy is being
ruthlessly washed in cold water, at this untimely hour,
and thereafter is cruelly held face downwards over a
basin filled with live embers, whence a pungent,
reeking wood smoke ascends to choke his breath, and
to make his tiny eyes smart and ache fiercely. No
wonder the poor little thing yells lustily ; the marvel
is that he should survive such treatment. But he
does outlive it, and, so soon as he is old enough to
leave the house, he becomes Umat's constant friend
and companion. Long before the child can speak, he
and Umat understand one another, and you may hear
them holding long conversations on the matting out-
side my study-door with perfect content for hours at
a time.

Love is infectious, and as Awang grows big enough
to use his legs and his tongue, the little brown mite
patters nimbly around his blind rather, with an air
which has in it something of protection. He is
usually mother naked, save that now and again a hat
is set rakishly upon one side of his little bullet head,
and, when I speak to him, he wriggles in a most
ingratiating manner, and stuffs his little hand half-
way down his throat. Umat's eyes follow him con-

(JMAT 53

stantly, and, though they are very dim, I fancy that
he sees Awang more clearly than anything else on
earth.

So much love cannot go for nothing, and I hope
that Awang will grow up to repay his father for the
devotion he lavishes upon him. But whatever gifts
he may be able to bring to Umat, he can never win
him back to sight, and the best that we can hope for
is that, in the days to come, Omat may learn to see
more clearly through Awang's eyes. Meanwhile, I
think he is not altogether unhappy.

HIS LITTLE BILL

A STUDY IN CHINESE PSYCHOLOGY

'Tis the added straw breaks the elephant's back ;
'Tis the half turn more kills the man on the rack j
'Tis the little wrong, too hard to be borne,
By one who for long has been harassed and worn,
That can utterly break and undo him.

He put me to shame, while he saved his ' face,'
They held me to blame, while he thrived apace,
He passed me by with a mock and a jeer ;
His time to die grew near and more near.

Ah, my heart was well pleased when I slew him !

Human Beings are most unaccountable creatures, and
the feelings and secret motions of their hearts, that
> > serve on occasion as the mainsprings of their actions,

are perhaps the least probable things about them. As
we getlower jtown^ the scale of humanity, the more
difficult it becomes to appreciate the attitude of mind
of a man who is impelled to do all manner of strange
and inconsequent things for reasons which to us are
y *^at once obscure and unreasonable. It is not that
the motives aTe not amply sufficient, according to the
notions of the man who acts upon them, but merely

HIS LITTLE BILL 55

that we, who cannot get inside the creature's mind,
find it hard to credit that any sane human being can
really regard them as things of enough importance to
serve as a guide to him in the shaping of his conduct.
This story is an instance in point, and I tell it because,
to my thinking, it has an interest altogether its own,
in that it throws some light upon the workings of the
mind of one of the lowest specimens of our human /
stock.

~Those who know the Chinese cooly, as he is when
he is first imported from Southern^China, will probably
not dispute the statement that he is intellectually as
debased a type of man as any in existence. It is this
that so largely helps the more unscrupulous employers
of labour, in the schemes which they are accustomed
to devise for his undoing, for they can feel quite
secure that it will never occur to the cooly that he can
complain to the authorities if he is defrauded or ill-
treated. His ideas play around rice, and the messes he
is accustomed to eat with his rice ; around opium,
when he can get it, and even more when he cannot,
for the want of the drug sometimes makes him
desperate. His pleasures are unspeakable things, into^
the nature of which it is best not to inquire too
closely ; he has an innate love of money, which he
very rarely sees, for more often than not he is deeply
in debt to his employer for food and opium supplied to
him, even after he has served him as long as Jacob
served for Rachel. When he is very angry, when he
considers that he has been put upon past all bearing,
when he has an undying grudge against some one,
upon whom it is impossible to retaliate in kind, or

56 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

when he goes to gaol, and his supply of opium is
knocked off, the Chinese cooly not infrequently com-
mits c '»icide. At such times, he will hang himself at
a height of two feet from the ground, with a foot-long
rope fashioned from a few twisted strands of his ragged
garments. He will show marvellous resolution, hold-
ing his ankles firmly with his hands, to prevent his
feet from touching the floor and so taking some of
the strain off his neck. He is quite determined to die,
and the actual manner in which he brings about his
self-inflicted death does not appear to be an affair of
much importance in his eyes. He dies to spite some
one, as a rule, and his last moments are made beautiful
to him by the thought that his spirit will return from
the Land of Shadows, and will haunt his enemies in
such a manner as to render the remainder of their lives
upon earth well-nigh unbearable. It is well that he
should have some compensations to comfort him, for
such a very amateurish piece of hangman's work, as
I have described, must be an exceedingly unpleasant
thing to endure.

Sometimes, however, the Chinese cooly prefers
murder to suicide, and it is then that one really sees
what a strange creature he is, and what a very thin coat-
^ing of humanity overlies the animal part of his nature.
He occasionally shows some faint traces of courage when
he makes one of a crowd ; but as soon as the inevitable
panic sets in, he treads his best friend ruthlessly under
foot in his frantic eagerness to save himself. Often
he kills his Mandor^ after talking over the advisability
of doing so, calmly and dispassionately, with his fellows,
in the kong-si house, during the long, quiet nights. As

HIS LITTLE BILL 57

soon as the plan has been finally approved, the Mandor
is beaten to death from behind, and most of the coolies
have a share in the killing. But occasionally, and far
more rarely, a cooly does murder alone and unaided,
and since, in these cases, one is enabled to mark the
workings of an individual mind, much may be learned
concerning the mental arrangements of the Chinese
cooly, from a study of the emotions and motives that
prompted him to take a life. Such an instance is that
of Lim Teng Wah, a mining cooly who worked at
Kuantan, in Pahang, during the Year of Grace 1896.
Lim Teng Wah had drifted from China on the
labour-stream, that sets so strongly towards the Malay
Peninsula, and indeed to any part of the World where
the Justice of the White Man, — ' Red-Headed Devil '
though he be, — makes life and property secure, and
money easy to win, for the Celestial finds nothing
romantic in unnecessary risk. He had left his home
because his father required him to do so, for in China
they hold the eminently sound doctrine that parents
should be supported by their children, not children by
their parents. He had been shipped to the Peninsula
as an indentured cooly, and a Tau-keh^ who chanced to
be in need of labour, took him over on his arrival, after
signing certain documents at the Chinese Protectorate
which were duly read over to Lim Teng Wah and a
batch of fellow-coolies, by a gabbling native clerk. It
was nobody's fault that the strangeness of the scene
in which they found themselves, and the mysterious
nature of these proceedings, which were quite beyond
the grasp of the cooly mind, prevented Lim and his
companions from understanding a single word of the

58 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

paper which set forth the terms of their agreement
with their new employer. As matters turned out,
this affected Lim Teng Wah very little, for he was a
steady worker, a man of good physique, who was never
on the sick-list, and since he did not smoke opium, he
soon succeeded in paying off his advances, and becoming
a iau-keh y or ' old cooly,' who can make his own con-
tract, and work where, with whom, and how he likes.
It was now that he was a free man, that the
troubles of Lim Teng Wah began. There are always
numerous contractors living in a large mining camp,
who have not the necessary capital to enable them to
undertake big jobs on their own account, but who sub-
contract for little bits of work, here and there, under the
holders of the main contracts. They are usually coolies
who are too idle to work themselves, if they can by
any means avoid doing so, upon whom Fortune has
smiled in the gambling-houses, thus placing them* in
the temporary possession of a little capital. The big
contractors have to make their profit, so the rates at
which job-work is let to these men are not very
remunerative, and as money gained in the gambling-
houses has a knack of returning whence it came, it
frequently happens that the sub-contractor is unable to
meet the calls made upon him when pay-day arrives,
and the coolies, like the Daughters of the Horse-Leech,
cry i Give ! Give ! ' These petty jobsters are more
practised in lying and fawning to those to whom they
owe money, in bluffing the stupid, and in bullying the
timid, than are any other people with whom I am
acquainted. When they have been dunned for weeks
and months, and their starving coolies can bear the

HIS LITTLE BILL 59

delay no longer, a sum sufficient to pay the cost of a
summons is scraped together, and proceedings are
taken in the nearest Court. But, unfortunately, their
debtor has usually by this time got rid of any pro-
perty of which he may once have been possessed, and
the defrauded coolies get little or nothing for their
pains.

Ah Sun was a man of this stamp, and it was into
his clutches that Lim Teng Wah fell, as soon as he
became a free cooly. He worked with Ah Sun for
a month only, and at the end of that time no wages
were forthcoming. Lim Teng Wah was much ex-
ercised in mind. He thought of his father in distant
China, who would be looking for a remittance from his
son, and would surely impute unfilial conduct to him
when no money arrived. The sum due amounted to
S 7«68, which, at the present wholly ridiculous rate of
exchange, is equivalent to about fourteen shillings and
sixpence, but to Lim Teng Wah this was a by no
means insignificant amount. Moreover it was the
first real ready money that he had ever earned, and
our earliest earnings are always things of enormous
value in our eyes, of far more importance than much
larger sums gained at any future time. It was very
bitter to Lim Teng Wah to find himself defrauded of
this money, and he became most persistent in his
attentions to Ah Sun, following him about constantly,
and claiming his money in season and out of season, to
the no little confusion and discomfort of his debtor.
Lim Teng Wah procured employment elsewhere, in
the same mining camp, however, and he now drew his
wages regularly, for the contractor with whom he

60 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

worked was well-to-do. But the thought of the
seven odd dollars out of which Ah Sun was keeping
him continued to rankle, and whenever an opportunity
offered, he renewed his application for payment. Ah
Sun, meanwhile, would seem to have taken a strong
dislike to Lim Teng Wah, which is not perhaps to
be wondered at. Did any one ever endear himself
to another by constantly dunning him for money ?
Ah Sun was at his old game of sub -contracting
now, and Lim had good reason to believe that his
enemy was fairly flush of cash. And it was thus
that the trouble began.

One day Lim Teng Wah paid his usual visit to
Ah Sun's kong-si house, with the object of dunning
him, and it so chanced that he found Ah Sun, with
a bag of jingling dollars in his hands, in the act of
paying his men. Lim at once claimed to be paid too,
and Ah Sun thereupon gathered up his money, tied
the string of the bag, with great deliberation, and, to
paraphrase his untranslatable Chinese monosyllables,
told Lim Teng Wah to go to the Devil. He then
smiled sweetly upon the infuriated Lim, put the bag
containing the money into his hat, for greater con-
venience in carrying it, and bowed himself out of the
kong-si house.

This was only one of many occasions upon which
Ah Sun treated Lim Teng Wah with scorn and
derision when he came to claim his just dues. Once
he told him that the Magistrate of the District had
specially decreed that no money should be paid to so
unworthy a person, and when on inquiry this proved
to be an impudent fabrication, Ah Sun was in no way

HIS LITTLE BILL 61

abashed, and told Lim that the debt should be liqui-
dated when next he chanced to be in funds.

' You had better make shift to pay me,' said Lim,
and Ah Sun entered his kong-si house without deigning
to answer a word.

Next day, when Lim Teng Wah arose from
sleep, his heart, as he subsequently stated, felt very
angry. I have said that in his new employment he
was receiving regular pay, but the memory of the
money due to him by Ah Sun wiped out all thought
of the good treatment he was now receiving from his
present employer. He said to himself [I am giving* — tGtUuj
his own account of the thoughts that passed through his
mind], ' Other folk labour and are paid for their toil,
I alone of all men work and receive no guerdon. To-
day, therefore, I will not go mine wards with the other
coolies.*

He had a slight sore on his foot, which he showed
to the Mandor^ making it his excuse for refusing to
work, though, in his heart, he had determined never
to labour any more. He was too angry and too
dissatisfied with the present, to have any care for the
future, or it would have occurred to him that a cooly
who will not work is very likely to starve. He had
no intention of retaliating upon Ah Sun ; he had had
many and ample opportunities of doing so, and he
had not availed himself of any of them ; all he felt
was that he was the victim of oppression, and that he ^
would therefore do no work for the future, as a protest
against things as they are. He did not put his feelings **~ "*"
before himself quite so clearly as this, nor in the words
which I have used, but, none the less, these were the

62 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

trend and shape of the thoughts that passed through
his mind, as he sat swinging his legs on the edge of
his bunk, and watched his fellow-coolies troop off to
their work through the early morning mist.

Then, when they were all gone, Lim Teng Wah
lay down again, under his musty mosquito-curtain, and
slept peacefully for a few hours. At about eleven
o'clock, he got up, bathed, cooked his rice, ate a
hearty meal, and sat down to smoke reeking Chinese
tobacco, in his long bamboo pipe. He was still very
angry. The extreme injustice of Ah Sun's treatment
of him, and the unfairness of the feet that he was de-
frauded of his pay, while other coolies received their
wages regularly, appealed to him with fresh force, as
he sat ruminating over his tobacco. It never occurred
to him that there was anything to be done. Ah Sun
was paying his way now, and was therefore a person
of far greater consideration in the mining camp than
was the unfortunate Lim. The debt due to him, of
which his friends had heard so much during the last
few months, was fast becoming a sort of joke among
them, and poor Lim Teng Wah knew that he was
powerless to do anything to force Ah Sun to comply
with his just demands. All this seemed to him to be
very hard, but it was with Fate that he felt that his
real quarrel lay. Had he not been the impotent creature
he was, Ah Sun would never have dared to treat him as
he had done, and yet this was a matter which, from
the very nature of things, poor Lim was quite
unable to control.

The sore upon his foot was causing him some
inconvenience, and as there can be no possible object

HIS LITTLE BILL 63

in neglecting the body because the mind chances to be
ill at ease, Lim sallied out at about one o'clock to search
for herbs, such as Chinese coolies are wont to use for
the preparation of the loathsome concoctions with which
they smear and doctor themselves as occasion requires.
He carried a native parang^ or chopper, in his hand, to
cut the boughs and twigs which bore medicinal leaves,
and to aid him in rooting up the herbs. He went into
the jungle and succeeded in collecting a quantity of
rubbish, which he considered suitable for his purpose,
and, as the afternoon was beginning to decline, he
turned his face once more towards the mining camp.
His way chanced to lead past the kong-si house in
which Ah Sun was then living, and the coolies had
just returned from work. Ah Sun, himself, chanced to
be coming up from the wattled hut on the river bank,
where he had been bathing, as Lim Teng Wah walked
by. He wore a pair of short drawers, and a limp, damp
loin-cloth, that he had used while bathing, was clinging
closely about his shoulders. In his left hand he carried
the bark water-can with which he had sluiced the water
over his dusty body.

It had become a sort of instinct with Lim Teng
Wah to ask Ah Sun for the seven dollars and sixty-
eight cents wherever and whenever they chanced to
meet, so he at once rushed at him, all undraped though
he was, and angrily demanded payment.

Ah Sun stood quite still, and bent his gaze upon
Lim, as though the latter was some strange and un-
clean animal, whose presence had just attracted his
attention. He continued to look steadily at his
creditor in this manner for a considerable time, with-

6+ STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

out uttering a word, and Lim, writhing under the cool
contempt of the glance, felt the cup of his bitterness
was full to overflowing. The quarrel he had with
Fate, and the dispute with Ah Sun concerning the
seven dollars and sixty-eight cents began to be welded
into one, and a fiery longing to be even with his
enemies sprang into being in his breast.

The pause was a long one, and never once did Ah
Sun remove his gaze from Lim's face. Then very
slowly and deliberately he said, in a kind of monotonous
sing-song, 1 1 will not pay thee one single tiny cent ! '
As he spoke, he made a motion with his right arm, as
though he were sweeping some unpleasant insect from
before him, and to Lim Teng Wah, standing angry
and ashamed in his path, it seemed as if Ah Sun was
attempting to add blows to the other injuries and
insults that he had heaped upon him. The parang
was ready in his hand, and Lim, almost blind with
fury, raised his arm and brought the heavy iron blade
crashing down upon the naked shoulder of his enemy.
The force and the unexpectedness of the blow felled
Ah Sun to the ground, and Lim Teng Wah threw
himself upon him, and hacked again and again at the
writhing body. Presently Ah Sun's feeble struggles
grew fainter, and then ceased, and now the animal
part j )f Lim Teng Wah broke through what there
!/ was of humanity in his composition. He let his
parang fall from his grip, and began literally to bathe
in the blood of the murdered man. With cries of
horrible satisfaction, he rubbed the blood, which still
ran warm from the gaping wounds that the parang
had made, over his face and chest ; he scooped up a

///£ LITTLE BILL 65

double handful in his reddened palms and drank of it ;
he grovelled about the dead body in a hideous revel of
satisfied revenge ; and perhaps, in those wild moments
of incomprehensible delight, he got what he considered
a fair return for the sum of seven dollars and sixty-
eight cents, which was still due to him when a couple
of months later he stood upon the gallows.

All this happened in the broad daylight, in front of
Ah Sun's kong-si house, and in the sight of several eye-
witnesses, yet no one attempted to interfere, to aid
Ah Sun, or to prevent the escape of his murderer.
But Lim Teng Wah, as the madness of his fury
began to cool, experienced no desire to save himself by
flight. He went straight to the Police Station, which
stood only a quarter of a mile away, and asked to be
suffered to enter. He was smeared with blood from
head to foot, he was panting and out of breath, for he
had come quickly from the scene of the murder, and
the charge-taker naturally supposed that he had been
the victim of an assault which he had come hither to
report. The Policemen pressed round him, plying
him eagerly with questions as to what had befallen
him, but he waved them aside, and seating himself
upon a stool, said that he would tell them all about it
when he had recovered his breath sufficiently to speak.
It is said that he expressed considerable surprise and »
dissatisfaction when, his tale having been told, he was
promptly clapped into the Station lock-up, for he
appeared to have imagined that now that he had stated
his case, — the injustice of which he had been a victim,
and the unpremeditated nature of the murder that he
had committed, — he would meet with nothing but

)

lA.*yfty**

66 S1VDIES IN BROWN HVMANITY

sympathy and commiseration. So poor Lim Teng
Wah carried his quarrel with Fate and injustice with
him to the grave, but as he never expressed any regret
for the murder of Ah Sun, and as he took an evident
pleasure in recalling that wjld mo ment when he had
found himself struggling above the prostrate body of
his enemy, I fancy that he derived some solid satisfac-
tion from the recollection that he had succeeded in
paying off a portion of the score that lay betwixt
them.

Incidentally, the story of Lim Teng Wah throws
some lurid side-lights upon the psychology of the
Chinese cooly.

THE SCHOONER WITH A PAST

The Ghosts of the West are laid, are laid,

The Spirits, and Elves, and Sprites j
The steam- whistle's scream hath made them afraid, —

Too clear are the White Men's nights.
The gas-jet's flare, and the lamp-light's glare,

The clamour, the rush, the roar,
Have driven them forth from the lands of the North

To roam on an alien shore.

But the Ghosts of the East wax strong, wax strong,

For the land is spent and old,
And the corpse-lights whisper a tale of wrong

To dead men under the mould,
While the Hantus cry 'neath the starless sky,

And the Weird-Hags laugh and yell,
When the night shuts down o'er village and town,

And opens the gates of Hell.

I cannot pretend to explain this story, nor do I ask
any one to believe it ; that is entirely a matter for
private judgment. £ But those who know the East
intimately will hesitate to assert that anything, no
matter how unlikely, is impossible in the lands where
man's body is bathed in eternal splendour, while his !
mind remains hopelessly steeped in unending night
and gloom. ) I can only tell the tale as I heard it ; first
from a white man, who knew me well enough to trust

68 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

me not to laugh at him, and later from a Malay boat-
swain, who did not realise that, by telling a plain
story simply and by relating facts exactly as they
occurred, he was running any risk of becoming an
object of ridicule. I have not attempted to use the
words of either of my (informants} for the eyes of the
East and the eyes of the West are of different focus,
the one seeing clearly where the other is almost blind.
No given circumstances have precisely the same value
when they are related by a Native or by a European,
yet each may speak truly according to his vision ; and
who shall say which of the twain attains the more
nearly to the abstract truth ?

The islands of the Eastern Seas, where life is too
indolent for a man to do more than dream over the
marvellous grouping of the treasures, and the lavish
use of light and colour and shade wherewith Nature
paints her pictures for lazy eyes to look upon ; where
the sad, soft winds lull you gently with their spicy
breath j where the air comes to you heavy with
memories of the cool sleeping forest ; where action is
folly, and all effort seems a madness ; and where the
drowsy people, taking the true spirit of their sur-
roundings, seem to be given over to slumber and to
dreamy rest, — these islands of the Eastern Seas have
the power to bind a man to them for all his days. It
needs an effort, for one who has drunk deeply of the
,/ intoxication of these sleepy- places, to break away from
them, and effort has become repugnant to his very
being. But if, as happens now and again, a man
grows weary of the islands, he must turn his back alike

THE SCHOONER WITH A PJS7 69

upon them and upon the rising sun, for if he goes
towards the East he only increases his trouble. Almost
before he is aware of it he will slip into the archi-
pelagoes of the Pacific, and there life is still so en-
trancing, in spite of the Germans and the Missionaries,
that he will soon find himself bound hand and foot by
ties stronger even than those from which he seeks to
free himself.

If, however, he turns re solutely to the West, he
may push his way through any one of the hundred
gaps that are to be found in that long fringe of forest-
clad islands which skirts the edge of the Malay
Archipelago. Then, peeping through the gates of the
strait, he may see once more the open, restless sea,
throbbing and heaving to the horizon, beyond which,
separated from him by more than a thousand leagues
of storm -swept ocean, lies the east coast of Africa.
The little Straits of Sunda are the favourite track for
such wayfarers, and as you near the western outlet, the
point where the calm seas of the Archipelago join issue
with the fierce waters of the Indian Ocean, you look
your last upon Malayan lands. However insensible
you may be to beauty, however impervious to the
influence of your surroundings, if you have sojourned
long enough among the islands, or in the Malay
Peninsula, the fascination of this corner of the earth
will have eaten into your heart, and a keen pang of
regret will be yours as you turn your back upon the
land and beat out to the open sea.

On your right hand lies a broad tract of forest,
broken here and there by little dainty villages, the
bright patches of green marking the cultivated land.

70 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

The jungle, fading away in the distance, colours the
earth it cloaks an even greenish blue, softer than any
hue for which man has a name ; and behind that,
very far and faint and dim, rise the white and azure
mountains of the interior. The fleecy clouds appear
to float around them, casting broad belts of shadow on
the plain beneath, and all the land slumbers peacefully
under its green coverlet. This is Sumatra ; and on
your left the coast of Java smiles at you through the
evening light. The villages cluster closely along the
shore, the ordered fields, gay with the splendours of
the standing crops, spreading inland almost as far as
the eye can carry. Here and there a dark patch of
forest breaks the brighter green of the rice-fields, and
the hills are seen dimly, blushing faintly in the glow of
the setting sun.

Ahead of you lies the ocean, restless and hungry, a
strange contrast to the sleepy shore ; and in the very
portals of the strait, grim and hard and awful, without
a blade of grass to soften its harsh outlines, Krakatau,
rising sheer from the sea, stands blackly outlined
against the ruddy sky.

This wild mountain of roughly -hewn volcanic
rock, so black in colour and so strong and harsh in
outline, so rudely unlike the smiling land on either
side, resembles some fearful monster that stands on ^
guard before the gates of Paradise. In 1^83 Krakatau
belched forth fire and lava, destroying thousands of
human beings and laying whole districts waste. Ships
far out of sight of land were licked up, and burned like
chafT, by the floating fire that covered the sea for miles.
Reefs rose clear from out the deep sea-bottom where

*>v** ^

PT*

7Y/£ SCHOONER WITH A PAST 71

formerly the waters had been unfathomed, while islands
disappeared, dragged down into the bowels of the ocean.
The deafening reports of the eruption's thousand
explosions carried far and wide, filling distant Malayan
lands with strange rumours of battle. But to-day
Krakatau rears its sullen crest skywards, silent, grim,
and terrible, like a destroying angel that has the power
to strike, but itself is indestructible.

It was lying close under the lee of Krakatau that
my friend the White Man chanced to find the
schooner, which he bought so cheaply from the
adipati, or headman, of the coast near Java Head.
She was a dainty little craft, and in first-rate condition.
The price asked and given for her was absurdly small,
and the White Man was full of his luck at having
fallen in with her. He had no very high opinion of
the morals of the Rajas, or headmen, who dwell in
Malayan lands, and he told himself that the adipati
had probably come in possession of the schooner by
means which would hardly bear scrutiny. That,
however, he considered was no affair of his, for men
who roam about the Archipelago are not apt to be
over scrupulous, nor do they usually ask awkward
questions about such gifts as the gods send them.

All went well until my friend set about seeking for
a crew to man his schooner. Then he found that no
living soul upon the coast of Java, nor yet among the
villages on the Sumatran shore, would set foot aboard
her. He wasted weeks in vainly trying to persuade
and bribe the people to lend him a hand to sail the
ship up to Tanjong Priuk, which is the port for
Batavia, but at length he was forced to abandon the

72 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

attempt. Not without difficulty he succeeded in
forcing the adipati to refund one-half of the purchase
money, as a guarantee that the ship should not be re-
sold until he returned to fetch her. Then he set off
for Sulu, where he had a large connection among the
divers and fisher-folk. A couple of months later he
returned to Krakatau, with a gang of yelling Sulu boys
crowding a tiny native craft, and took formal charge
of the schooner.

The money was paid, and the ship began to beat
up the Straits before a gentle breeze ; and, after put-
ting in at Tanjong Priuk to refit, and lying for a
week or two under the shadow of the great Dutch
guard-ships inside the breakwater, the White Man
and his crew set sail for an oyster-bed of which the
former alone knew the situation. I cannot tell you
exactly where this fishing -ground is, for the White
Man hugged his secret closely. (Among the islands
men pride themselves upon having exclusive know-
ledge of some out-of-the-way corner that no one else
is supposed to have visited.) It not infrequently
happens that a dozen men plume themselves upon
possession of such knowledge in regard to one and the
same spot, and until two of them meet there all goes
happily enough.

The White Man spoke to me of his schooner, in
after days, with tears in his voice. She was ' a daisy
to sail, and as pretty as a picture,' he said ; and even
the Malay boatswain, who had his own sufficient
reasons for hating her very name, told me that at first
he loved her like the youngest of his daughters.

Now the custom of the Malay pearl-fishers is this :

THE SCHOONER WITH A PAST 73

the ship is anchored on the oyster-beds, or as near to
them as is possible, and the diving takes place twice
daily, at morning and evening. All the boats are
manned at these hours, and the Sulu boys row them
out to the point selected for the day's operations.
The white man in charge always goes with them in
order to keep an eye upon the shells, to physic ex-
hausted divers with brandy or gin, and generally to
look after his own interests.

Presently a man lowers himself slowly over the
side, takes a long deep breath, and then, turning head
downwards, swims into the depths, his limbs showing
dimly in frog-like motions, until, if the water be very
deep, he is completely lost to sight. In a few minutes
he again comes into view, his face straining upwards,
yearning with extended neck for the air that he now
needs so sorely. His hands cleave the water in strong,
downward strokes j his form grows momentarily more
distinct, until the fixed, tense expression of his staring
face is plainly visible. Then the quiet surface of the
sea splashes in a thousand drops of sun-steeped light,
as his head tears through it, and his bursting lungs,
expelling the imprisoned air, draw in the breath, for
which they crave, in long, hard gasps. If the dive has ""
been a deep one a little blood may be seen to trickle
from nose and mouth and ears ; at times even the
eye-sockets ooze blood, in token of the fearful pressure
to which the diver has been subjected. He brings
with him, from the depths of the sea, two oyster-
shells, never more and very rarely less, and when these
have been secured, he is helped back into the boat,
from which another diver is now lowering himself.

74 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMJNITT

These men can on occasions dive to the depth of
twenty fathoms, one hundred and twenty feet ; and
though the strain kills them early, they are a cheery,
d evil-m ay-care set of ruffians till such time astheir
lungs and hearts give way.

The shells are the property of the white man, for
the divers dive for a wage, and it is the mother-of
pearl to which the European looks for his sure profit,
the pearls themselves forming the plums which may or
may not fall to his lot. My friend always opened his
shells himself; and, indeed, it is a fascinating employ-
ment, when each closed bivalve may contain within it
a treasure on the proceeds of which a man may live in
comfort for the best half of a year. The Malay boat-
swain sometimes helped him, but his interest in the
matter, being vicarious, was less keen.

The White Man and his schooner reached the
oyster-bed in safety, and work was begun on the
following morning, each of the divers making two
trips to the bottom during the day. The shells were
lying 'as thick as mites in a cheese,' my friend told
me, and he got three fine pearls on the first day, which
is more than any pearl-fisher living has a right to hope
for. Therefore he turned into his bunk, and dreamed
of great wealth and an honoured old age. He was
just shaking hands warmly with Queen Victoria, to
whom a moment earlier he had presented a necklace
of pearls as big as plover's eggs, when he awoke to find
the Malay boatswain standing over him.

c What thing ails thee ? ' asked the White Man in
Malay.

1 The order hath come to Abu,' was the reply.

THE SCHOONER WITH A PJST 75

■ When did he die ? ' asked the White Man, who
understood the Malay idiom.

'I know not, TuanJ 1 said the boatswain. C I
found him lying face downwards on the deck a little
abaft the mainmast. He died startled (suddenly) and
no man was at hand to watch him at his death.'

c Come, let us see,' said the White Man, rolling off
his bunk, and together they went to view the body by
the light of a ship's lantern.

Abu lay dead, naked to the waist, with outstretched
arms extended and the palms lying flat upon the deck.
Half a dozen of the Sulu boys stood in a frightened
group at a little distance from him, talking together in
low, uneasy whispers.

The White Man turned the body over on its back,
and put his hand upon the dead man's breast. He
noted that the face had been badly bruised by the
boards of the deck, against which it had struck when
Abu fell. Apparently the man, who in his lifetime
had always appeared to be a strong, healthy fellow
enough, had had a weak heart, and the diving had
proved too great a strain for him. The White Man
said so to the boatswain, but the latter did not seem to
be convinced.

c Has the Tuan noted this ? ' he asked, turning the
body over as he spoke, and pointing to a minute black
stain on the skin below the left shoulder-blade.

The White Man examined the spot carefully. * It
is a birth-mark,' he said.

c Perhaps,' said the boatswain doubtfully ; * but in

1 T&an is the word commonly used in addressing Europeans in the
Malay Peninsula.

76 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

all the years that I have seen Abu stripped for the
diving never have I remarked the said birth-mark.'

1 Nor I,' said the White Man ; c but if it is not a
birth-mark, what then may it be ? '

4 God alone knows, TuanJ said the boatswain piously;
c but I have heard tell of spirits who scar their victims,
leaving such a mark as that we see.'

The White Man was righteously indignant. He
felt that he did well to be angry, for superstition is
an unseemly thing, more especially when it tends to
prevent a man from working one of the best oyster-
beds in the whole of the Malay Archipelago. The
boatswain took all the hard things that the White
Man said to him with the utmost composure ; but it
was not difficult to see that the Sulu boys, who had
stood listening to all that passed, felt that reason lay
upon his side.

Diving was resumed on the morrow, but my friend
noticed that some of the younger men foiled to reach
the bottom, apparently lacking the nerve required for
the violent effort, while both old and young seemed to
be somewhat sullen and uneasy. The White Man did
not like these symptoms at all, for every wise pearl-
fisher knows that much depends upon his divers being
kept in good spirits. Accordingly when night had
fallen, and after the evening rice had been devoured in
silence, he did his best to rouse his people by organising
a dance on the open space abaft the mainmast. Drums
and gongs were produced, and the Sulu boys thumped
and clanged them vigorously, while one of their
number blew the shrill sirunai^ whose note resembles
that of a demented bagpipe. Then some stood up and

THE SCHOONER WITH A PAST 77

danced nimbly, and all lifted up their voices in dis-
cordant song.

Men of the Malayan race are gifted with volatile
natures, easily cast down and easily lifted up again ;
and soon the people on the deck of the schooner were
singing and laughing, bandying jests, each man
competing eagerly for his turn to rise up and dance.
Their faces, with flashing eyes and teeth showing
white through gums stained dark red with areca-nut,
looked as merry and as happy in the flare of the ship's
lanterns as though death and the fear of death were
thoughts to which they were utter strangers. The
White Man heaved a sigh of relief, and shortly before
midnight he stole away to his cabin, and set about the
task of opening the oyster-shells which had been taken
during the day.

Suddenly a bewildering hubbub broke out upon the
deck. The drums and gongs were silenced, and the
sound of the serunai died away in one expiring wail.
The lusty song ceased, and the noises which replaced
it were yells and screams of fear, mingled with the
pattering sound of naked feet scurrying along the
deck. The White Man seized a pistol and rushed out
of his cabin. He found the boatswain cowering
against the bulwarks, his teeth chattering like castanets
and his body bathed in a cold sweat. He was too
spent with fear to do more than moan, but at last the
White Man succeeded in shaking him into articulate
speech.

* Behold ! ' said the boatswain, and with a hand that
shook violently he pointed to an object a little abaft
the mainmast. The White Man walked up to it, and

78 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

found that it was the body of one of his people, a
youngster named Intan. He lay quite dead in the
same attitude as that in which Abu's body had lain
upon the previous night, and on his back, a little below
the left shoulder-blade, was a small, dark stain upon
the skin.

The White Man picked up the body and carried it
to his cabin, where he laid it gently down upon his
bunk. In the bright light of the lamp he could see
Intan's face clearly for the first time. The nose and
forehead had been bruised and cut by the fall upon the
deck, but the face still wore fixed upon it the expression
which it had borne at the moment of death. The
eyes were starting from their sockets, the mouth
seemed open to scream, and the whole face told a
tale of abject, masterless terror — fear such as it is given
to few to experience and to fewer still to survive.
The White Man tried to tell himself that Intan's
heart had been rotten, and that death was due to natural
causes ; but with that strange mark below the shoulder-
blade before his eyes, he failed to convince even
himself.

While he still stood pondering upon the mystery,
the boatswain, and the Mandor^ or headman, of the
Sulu divers, came to the cabin door and begged to have
speech with him. They spoke in the name of all on
board, and entreated the White Man to set sail that
very night, and shape a course for the nearest land.

'This ship is the abode of devils,' said the boat-
swain ; * of evil spirits that war with man, and in the
name of Allah we pray thee to depart from this place,
and to abandon this woful ship. Behold, as we sat

THE SCHOONER WITH A PAST 79

singing, but an hour ago, singing and dancing with
our hearts at ease, of a sudden it was laid upon us to
gaze upwards, and lo, we spied an aged man climbing
out of the rigging of the mainmast. Out of the
black darkness, above the reach of the lantern light,
he came, climbing slowly, after the manner of the
aged, and indeed he was far stricken in years. His
hair was white as the plumage of the padi crane, and
his beard also was white and fell to his waist. His
body from the belt upwards was naked and bare, and
the skin was creased and wrinkled like the inner seed
of a durian. He was clad in a yellow waist-skirt
looped about his middle, and his fighting-drawers were
also yellow. It is the colour of the Spirits, as the
Tuan knows. He had a long dagger, a kris cherita^ of
many tens of waves to its blade, and he carried it
cross-wise in his mouth as he climbed. We who
looked upon him were stricken with a great fear, so
that we might not stir hand or foot, and presently he
descended on to the deck. Then we fled screaming,
but He of the Long Dagger pursued Intan, and smote
him on the back as he ran, so that he died. Thereafter
the spirit swarmed back up the mast, and disappeared
into the darkness. Many beheld this thing, Tuan ; it
is not the talk of a child ; and we that saw the evil
one cannot endure to dwell longer within this haunted
ship.'

The White Man did not know what to make of it,
for he was not himself inclined to superstition. His
influence with his people was great, and their faith in
him was as the faith of little children in their parents.
Therefore he made a pact with his crew, by which

80 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

he promised to sail for the nearest land if anything
untoward should happen on the following night, and
he further promised to watch with them, and protect
them from the spirit, should it again descend among
them.

The crew were in a state of abject fear, but they at
last agreed to accept the White Man's terms. No
diving was done on the morrow, for the men had no
heart for the effort, and though an attempt was made
it was speedily abandoned as useless. Night found
the crew huddled together on the deck, a little forward
the mainmast, with the White Alan sitting nearest to
that dreaded spot. He tried to induce them to keep
up their hearts by thumping the drums and gongs, as
on the previous night ; but the songs died down in the
singers' throats, the serunai wailed discordantly, then
ceased, and as the hour of danger approached, a dead
silence of fear fell upon the crowd of men, huddled
one against another for the sake of company on the
dimly lighted deck.

Shortly after midnight a tremor ran through the
crew, and half a dozen men started to their feet. All
were gazing upwards with craning necks to the rig-
ging of the mainmast. The White Man could hear the
sighing of the wind through the cordage, the creaking
of a rope against the mast, and the hard breathing or
the frightened crew ; but though he strained his eyes
to peer eagerly through the darkness, nothing could
he see. It made his flesh creep queerly, he told me,
as he stood there, while the night wind sighed gently
overhead and the little lazy ripple broke against the
ship's side, to watch the frightened faces of the Malays,

THE SCHOONER WITH A PAS! 81

gazing with protruding eyes at something that he
could not see, something in the rigging of the main-
mast, whose descent towards the deck they seemed to
watch.

* It is He of the Long Dagger ! ' whispered a voice
behind that sounded harsh and strange. The White
Man would never have recognised it as that of the
boatswain, had he not seen the man's lips moving.
c Where, where ? ' he cried eagerly, glancing from one
terrified face to another ; but no one heeded him, all
seeming spellbound by the creeping, invisible thing
they watched in agony. The harsh tones of the
White Man's voice died down, and the little quiet
noises of the night, alone broke the stillness of the
heavy air. The sea and the sky seemed alike to
wait for a catastrophe, and the fear of death, and
worse than death, lay heavy on the watchers.

Presently the awful silence was broken rudely by
yells and screams, such sounds as the human voice
alone can produce when men wax mad with panic.
The groups behind the White Man broke like a herd
of frightened deer, the Malays flying in every direction,
shrieking their terror of some unseen pursuer.

And still the White Man could see nothing. He
turned to watch his people in their flight, and as he
did so a chill breath, such as often whispers over the
surface of the tropic sea during the quiet night-time,
seemed to fan his cheek and pass him by. As he
watched, the headman of the divers, who was running
up the deck, his breath coming in hard, short gasps,
suddenly threw up his arms, his hands extended widely,
and with a fearful yell fell prone upon the deck, his

82 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

face striking the planks with a heavy, sickening thud.
The White Man ran to him, and lifted him across his
knee ; but the headman was dead, and below the left
shoulder-blade the strange, dark stain that the boat-
swain had called the scar of the Spirits was plainly to
be seen.

Before dawn the schooner was under way, heading
bravely for the nearest land. The Sulu boys slunk
about the deck, or sat huddled up against the bulwarks,
talking together in scared whispers. The sun shone
down brightly on the dancing waves, and the schooner
leaped joyously through them to the song of the wind
in the rigging and the ripple of the forefoot through
the water ; but Nature alone was gay and well pleased
that day, for the schooner carried none but heavy
hearts, and souls on which lay the fear of an awful
dread.

Early in the afternoon land was sighted, and when
the white trunks of the cocoanut-trees could be clearly
distinguished below the dancing palm-fronds, first one
and then another of the Sulu boys leaped upon the
bulwarks and plunged headlong into the sea. The
White Man could do naught to stay them, for they
were mad with fear, so he stood despairingly gazing at
the black heads bobbing on the waves as the swimmers
made for the shore. Only the old Malay boatswain
remained by his side, but even his fidelity could not
look the prospect of another night spent aboard that
devil's ship steadily in the face. The White Man
aiding, they made shift to lower a boat, and taking
such articles of value as were capable of being removed,
they too turned their faces shorewards.

THE SCHOONER WITH A PAST 83

During the night a wind from off the land sprang
up, and carried the schooner away with it. By dawn
she had vanished, and so far as I am aware, she has
never been heard of since.

I have said that I cannot pretend to explain this
story, nor do I know anything of the former history
of the schooner, before the White Man chanced upon
her at Krakatau. Perhaps, if we knew the whole of
the facts, an explanation might be found ; but, for the
present, you must content yourselves with a fragment,
as I have had to do.

IN ARCADIA

When Ambition lie* stricken and Hying,

And can rowel Mankind no more ;
When there's nought worth the labour of trying

To strive for and grip, as of yore j
When no grapes may be pressed for the drinking,

When money's unknown in the Land ;
When we've done with all knowing and thinking,

All struggles to understand ;
When men shall live tamely together,

And all be, as kine, fat fed,
When the Passions are bound with a tether,

And the Deadlier Sins are dead,
There will still be some laughing Daughter

Of Men, to rekindle our strife,
And that — God be thanked — will mean slaughter,

And later more full-blooded Life !

The Millennium.

Arcadia is situated some five days' journey by
steamer from the Sunda Straits, — the main exit by
which a man may make his way out of the maze
of islands that together form the Malay Archipelago,
— and about a fortnight's hard steaming due east of
the island of Madagascar. Arcadia lies well off" the
track of any recognised trade route, and no vessel visits
it unless the fierce winds, which rage and roar across

/# ARCADIA 85

the wide expanse of the Indian Ocean, have taken
charge of her, for the time, and will not suffer the
men on board her to have a say in the selection
of her course. Naturally, if this were not so, Arcadia
would very soon cease to be the quiet, peaceful, un-
sophisticated spot we know it to be, and indeed the
revolutionary tendencies of the shipwrecked mariners
who have from time to time been cast ashore here, have
too often endangered the tranquillity of the island. In
feet, if you go deep enough into the thing, you will
find that the excellent Arcadia ns differ from the rest of
humanity, not so much in their love of virtue, and
hatred of vice, as in a greater lack of opportunities of
doing evil. Year after year, the Special Commissioners,
who visit the island in the little wallowing gunboats,
state in their official reports that there is l no crime,*
and everybody who reads the blue-books holds up
astonished hands in admiration, and feels dimly that
they, and every one else connected with the rule of
Great Britain in Asia, are deserving of much credit
for this high standard of morality. They altogether
overlook the fact that, even if we accept the statement
that there is no crime, the credit is chiefly due to the
geographical position of the islands, with which even
the all-powerful Great Britain itself can have had
nothing to do.

The Cocos Keeling Islands, for this is Arcadia's
official name, are inhabited by some six hundred
cross-bred Malays, the descendants of the slaves
brought thither, from the Archipelago, by the
founder of t he Scotchj arnily to which the islands still
belong. The men andtHe women are about equally

86 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

numerous, and as a consequence polygamy has died
out, though the people still profess a bastard form of
Muhammadanism. The sarong^ or waist -cloth, the
national garment, without which no self-respecting
Malay ever willingly allows himself to be seen, has
been abandoned in favour of white duck trousers, and
a coloured flannel or linen shirt, while a broad-brimmed
straw hat crowns the whole, in open defiance of the
Prophet's Law, which forbids the Faithful to wear
any head -gear that shall prevent the forehead from
touching the ground when the wearer prostrates
himself in prayer.

The islands, which are some twenty in number,
rise up out of the Indian Ocean in such a manner as
to form a co mplete ^cjrcle, the centre of which is a
broad, landlocked lagoon. At the northern edge ot
the circle, the islands do not quite join, and thus a
portal is left, by means of which a fairly large steamer
can make its way into the lagoon. The other islands
so very nearly touch hands, that a man can wade from
one to another without difficulty. All the Arcadians
live on Settlement Island, as it is called, but on every
side of the lagoon the vast groves of cocoanut-trees
stand up against the sky, shielding the anchorage from
the wild onslaught of the tireless winds which rip
ceaselessly up and down these seas. Cocoanuts are
practically the only things that grow with comfort
in Arcadia, and every one of them has been planted
by the hand of man. Yearly a ship, specially chartered
for the purpose by the Scotch owners of the islands,
puts into the lagoon, and after discharging her cargo
of * Europe goods,' is loaded up with copra, which is

J^'

/# ARCADU 87

beaten down with stampers, until her hull is a solid
mass of whitish stuff, with a wooden casing enclosing
it. It is sad to have to add that, whenever the
Arcadians can elude the vigilance of their masters, /
they tap the palms for toddy, and thereafter wax
exceedingly intoxicated on the stolen spirits.

As you enter the lagoon, leaving behind you the
throbbing, leaping, excited seas which have been your
companions ever since you slipped out of the Straits of
Sunda, and left the black bulk of Krakatau, the fearful
volcanic mountain that rises abruptly from the ocean,
standing awful and threatening in your wake, it seems
as though a strange silence and peace had fallen
upon the earth. The beating of the hungry waves
upon the outer edge of the circle of rock-bound islands
comes to you in a faint murmur, softened by distance
into a dreamy hush ; around you the intensely blue
waters of the lagoon lie calm and smooth, with scarcely
a ripple to roughen their even, sunlit surface ; and
gazing downwards over the ship's side, the white coral
of the bottom makes the deep, clear water look in-
credibly shallow, so that every branching spray of
plant -like rock, every waving tassel of strange sea-
weed, every tiny shell of dainty shape and colour,
every fish that glides hither and thither in this marine
Fairyland, is seen with marvellous distinctness of
detail. A fantastic - looking sea-bird or two float
around the ship, searching for food, or wing their
way across the lagoon, dipping now and again to
seize some object floating on the surface of the
water ; far away, on the shores of Settlement Island,
the roofs of a house or twain may be seen, showing

88 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

indistinctly among the palm-trees on the beach ; a few
fishing boats lie rocking at anchor near the houses ;
but over all is an air of lazy, dreamful peace, in such
sharp contrast to the busy, hurrying life of the world
you have left behind you, that no man needs to be told
that this is in truth Arcadia.

Hari was an Arcadian born, and he was proud of
the fact when he met any of the Bantamese coolies,
who were periodically imported from the Malay Archi-
pelago to help the owners of the islands to work the g
copra. While he was still little, he had been through
the course of education that is prescribed by the owners
of the island for every child in the place. This was
before the days of Special Commissioners, so reading
and writing, and sums in pounds, shillings, and pence,
— the latter a study of doubtful utility, seeing that the
Arcadians are not allowed to handle money fashioned
from anything more precious than sheep -skin, and
seeing also that their arithmetic is done for them by
the Scotch Family aforesaid, — found no place in the
curriculum. He had, however, been through the
carpenter's and blacksmith's shops, and could use
tools of either trade as well and as skilfully as any
man need desire. This, according to the custom
of the islands, is a necessary step in the development
of one who wishes to become the father of a family,
for until a boy has, so to speak, won his spurs in the
shops, he is not permitted to marry. If you come to
think of it, this is a fairly sound arrangement. Harih
— his name was a corruption of a corruption of 'Henry'l v
— had raced hard to pass through the shops more

IN ARCADIA 89

quickly than any of his fellows, for it so chanced
that, at that time, there was only one marriageable
girl upon the island who was still unwedded, and the
first comer would in all probability be served first.
This girl was named JVferi, a mispronunciation of
Mary, for on the islands the natives always give
their children European names, which is yet one
more sign of how ragged is the coating of Muhamma-
danism that their long intercourse with the White
Men has left them. Hari had known Meri all her
life, for they had lived always on the islands, and this
means seeing more of your neighbours than is likely
even in a secluded village, for it is impossible to get
away from Arcadia, whereas in the most out-of-the-
way places on the mainland, an absence of a day or
two must occur, for one or the other, during the years
while two young people are coming to maturity. He
was under no illusions as to this young woman's
character, such as may be entertained by one upon
whom his lady-love comes suddenly in all the wonder
of her beauty and full - fledged charms, turning a
commonplace existence to the likeness of a fairy-tale,
until such time as the said illusions wear off. He
knew her to be very much like other young women,
such as men on the island were accustomed to take to
wife. She had pulled his short, black hair, any time
these ten years past, when he chanced to anger her,
she had used her nails too, with good effect, as the
tiny white scars on his nose still bore witness, but
everybody on the islands knew that women always
treated men roughly, domineering over them, so that
even the bravest sailors and strongest rowers were often

90 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

sent weeping from their own houses, to tell a woful
tale of all they had endured at the hands of their wives,
to the sympathetic crowd of loafers on the beach. Old
men said that things had been otherwise in the good
half-forgotten days, before the present ruler of the islands
came back from the White Men's country with fantastic
notions anent the wickedness of wife-beating ; but since
the punishment that was dealt out to Jan the son of
Charli, for stripping the hide off his woman's back with
a piece of rattan, no man had dared to lift his hand
against the women -folk, and these, realising their
immunity from physical harm, had taken to bullying
the men most mercilessly. Hari found it difficult to
believe that things had ever really been different from
what they had been, in this respect, ever since he could
remember anything ; and anyway, a man was better
off with a woman to wash and cook for him, than as
a bachelor in a land where a wife could not be picked
up for the asking whenever a young man's fancy
'lightly turned to thoughts of love.' Regarded in
this light, Meri was exceedingly desirable, and as far
as the thin blood of the Arcadian is capable of the
emotion, Hari may be said to have been in love with
the girl. She was a big, strapping wench, round-faced,
and full-busted, as are most of the sturdy Arcadian
women, and her eye was as bright, and her ready
tongue as saucy, as her fists and nails were quick to
act when she happened to be annoyed. On the whole,
Hari told himself, Meri was about as attractive a
girl as a man had any right to expect to win for a
wife ; and he was therefore all the more anxious that
no one else should step in to take her from him, before

IN ARCADIA 91

such time as he was in a position to start a household
on his own account.

Unfortunately for Han's peace of mind, precisely
the same thoughts had occurred to Sam, a youth who
was passing through the shops at the same time as
Han, and who was equally well aware that if, by any
chance, he was to fail to secure Men for his wife he
would have to wait in single cursedness until some of
the half- naked little girls, now playing about the
beach, had attained to a marriageable age. Sam was
also a Cocos-born native, and he therefore had known
Men quite as long, and quite as intimately, as Hari
had done. His hair had been pulled quite as often,
and if it came to counting the marks left by the
young lady's nails, Sam had two to show for every one
on Hari's nose. The Fates, being like every one else
in Arcadia, considerably bored by the monotony of
the drearily peaceful and uneventful life, decreed that
both Hari and Sam should earn their discharge from
the shops upon one and the same day. They both,
therefore, became entitled to marry at the same time,
and since Meri was the only maiden on the island
who had attained to a ripe age, one or the other of
them was obviously destined to remain celibate. It
is to meet the requirements of such communities
as those of Arcadia, that polyandry is adopted in
some parts of the world, but the enlightened
owner of the island had at least as strong a pre-
judice against that much misunderstood system, as
he had against the more common one of wife-
beating. That they both should wed Meri was,
therefore, out of the question ; and it merely re-

92 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

mained to be seen which of the two suitors was to
be the happy man.

All other things being equal, it fell to Meri and
to Meri's mamma, — for of course Meri's papa, being
only a mere man, was not to be suffered to have any
say in so important a matter, — to select the youth who
was most to their taste.

Meri's choice inclined towards Hari ; for she re-
membered how, a week or so before, when she went
to the factory to draw the family ration of flour, Hari
had thrown his arm about her and had chiumd
('smelt') her cheeks and lips. She had cuffed him
soundly at the time for his audacity, but the memory
of his warm lips against her cheek seemed, somehow,
to make him nearer and dearer to her than any one
else in all the world. For even in Arcadia, it must be
MOted, old Human Nature is apt to be very much like
itself.

Meri's mamma, on the other hand, was a hot partisan
of Sam ; for she had had a warm flirtation with Sam's
father, in the days when both of them were young,
and she cherished a sentimental affection for the son
of her old lover. She had viewed with keen suspicion
the disappearance of Meri and Hari behind the big
factory-chimney, on that occasion when she and her
daughter had gone to fetch the flour, and even when
Hari reappeared rubbing his bruised cheeks ruefully,
she had not felt completely reassured. Now that by
the blessing of the God, whose name for the moment
she forgot, — Allah, was it not ? — both Sam and Hari
were placed on an equal footing, and the choice had
passed from the hands of Fate to those of herself and

IN ARCADIA 93

Meri, she had very little doubt, in her own mind,
as to which of the twain should be condemned to a
life of celibacy.

As the days wore on, it became more and more
apparent to every one concerned that the choice of the
mother would also be the choice of the daughter.
Sam took to himself a swaggering strut and an
arrogant bearing which Hari found it very difficult
to bear with equanimity. The traditional scrap of
comfort, which is always offered to the unlucky lover,
that there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out
of it, was powerless to console Hari in his affliction,
for unless some other islander was so obliging as to
die, and leave an attractive widow behind him, — and
in Arcadia people are terribly long-lived, — there was
no possibility of Hari finding another wife if he had
to stand aside and watch Sam carrying off Meri from
before his eyes. This thought seemed to fill Hari's
cup of bitterness to the brim, and from being a cheery,
light-hearted little fellow enough, he gradually became
very glum, taciturn, and surly. None the less, how-
ever, it was observed that he evinced no desire to
avoid his rival, and on the frequent occasions when
chance threw them together, the two youths appeared
to be, if anything, more friendly than of old. Sam
'came* the favoured lover over poor Hari, in season
and out of season, and never wearied of descanting
upon the charms of the lady whom he was about to
wed, when Hari was at hand to listen. Even in
Arcadia, people are not always careful to avoid hurting
the feelings of their neighbours.

The older men, who watched the two youths

94 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

going about together, marvelled exceedingly at Hari's
choice of a companion, and even more at the good
temper he displayed when Sam waxed most jubilant
and offensive. Though they had come to Forty
Year, and had long ago learned c the worth of a lass,'
they had been young in their day, and they felt that
had they been in Hari's place the peace of Arcadia
had like to have been broken. He was evidently a
poor-spirited fellow, and perhaps Meri was well out of
a marriage with such a poltroon.

Things went on in this way for several weeks, and
at last the day for Sam's marriage with Meri was fixed.
On the Saturday before the great event, Hari invited
Sam to go out fishing with him on the lagoon.

i Thou wilt need much fish for thy Wedding Feast,'
he said.

c When will thy Wedding Feast be, Bachelor ? '
asked Sam with a maddening laugh.

c God alone knows ! ' replied Hari piously ; ' but
say, Brother, wilt thou go a-fishing, for my lines are
ready, and if thou art unwilling I go single-handed.'

' As thou art like to go through life ! ' jeered Sam ;
1 but for once thou shalt not be lonely in thy boat, as
thou wilt surely be hereafter in thy bed. Come let
us be gone.'

The two friends made their way down to the shore,
through the fenced enclosures in which the houses of
the Cocos people stand. They could see the women
hard at work at their weekly task of washing the
household clothes, and scrubbing the plank floors of
their dwellings, for the Scotch owners of the islands
have brought the tradition of a Saturday Washing from

IN ARCADIA 95

the far-off Hebrides to these remote atolls in the
Indian Ocean. The men were loafing wearily about
the beach, for they knew better than to cross the
thresholds of their homes when the women-folk were
i redding up.' Some of them were out fishing on the
lagoon, Saturday being a half-holiday on the island, —
yet another imported tradition from a land to which
the Cocos natives are strangers, — but others sat about
doing nothing in particular, with the listless air that
is peculiar to the Arcadians. If you do away with
money, and substitute sheepskin ; if the hardest
worker and the most skilful mechanic fares no better
and no worse than other men of ordinary proficiency ;
when polygamy has disappeared, and a man, no matter
what he may do, is bound in marriage to the same
woman for all his days ; every possible incentive to
struggle for an improvement in his lot, every source
of ambition, every reason for competition vanishes,
and as a result life becomes a very insipid, dull, and
dreary business, in which no man can be expected to
take any particularly vivid interest. The wise men
in Europe and America, who are anxious to see things
reduced to this dead level, in the interests of Humanity,
and are of opinion that their theories and ideas are
the one new thing under the sun, might study with
advantage the effect of a precisely similar system on
the people of distant Arcadia. On the whole, the
results are not encouraging. Humanity is c no great
shakes ' as it is, but if we were all Arcadians ! Heaven
help us !

The great kolek which belonged to HarPs father,
and was the fishing boat of the family, lay rocking at

l/pb

96 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

anchor, some twenty yards from the shore, and the
two Cocos men waded out to her and stepped aboard.

c Is no other man joining our party ? * asked Sam,
as he threw his leg over the side.

c We twain go a-fishing this tide. Art thou afraid
to do so ? ' answered Hari.

Sam got on board without a word. Then they
put to sea, each holding an oar.

1 Is it fitting that the future husband of Meri should
fear aught ? ' Sam asked after a pause.

c Indeed the future husband of Meri fears nothing
in Heaven or Earth, and nothing in this life nor in
jthe life that is to come ! ' said Hari very quietly.

Those who know the lagoon of the Cocos Islands
are aware that though to the new-comer it looks so
aceful and delightful, it is in reality a most dangerous
place. All manner of unexpected and unaccountable
currents run around it, and about it, and across. Some
years ago two or three men from one of the visiting
men - of- war fell victims to the treacherous under-
swirls ; but the Cocos folk, born and bred upon the
islands, know the safe and the dangerous places fairly
well, and when they go a-flshing no one feels any
anxiety as to their safety.

Hari and Sam put out towards the centre of the
lagoon, dancing across the little playful waves, upon
as joyous a day as can well be imagined by the poor
people whose eyes have never feasted upon the wonders
of an Eastern land. The sun, burning overhead,
threw up the vivid blue of the sea, and the glistening
waters reflected the blazing sun-glare in a myriad
dazzling shimmering flecks of shifting, leaping, frolic-

IN ARCADIA 97

some light. The murmur of the breakers on the
rocks beyond the cocoanut-trees came to the rowers'
ears in a distant, sleepy whisper ; the harsh cry of an
occasional sea-bird served only to emphasise the great
stillness that lay heavily upon the sea and shore ; and
the profound and dreamy peace of Arcadia hallowed all
the world. The two men in the boat probably felt
the influence of the hush which marked Nature's quiet,
even breathing, as she took her siesta^ for they too
were silent, as they rowed on and on over the glisten-
ing surface of the lagoon.

Sam, as he pulled mechanically at his oar, thought
lazily of Meri, and of the life that he was soon to live
in her company. She was a good girl, and a comely,
he thought, and worthy in every way to be his wife.
Also, the very fact that Hari desired her in vain, added
a zest which his own love for her might have lacked,
had no other man sought her for a wife. Sam felt
very contented with himself, and with the world as he
found it, so much so in fact that his mind was too
absorbed in the recollection of his own wellbeing for
a thought to be spared for the direction in which Hari
was guiding the boat.

Suddenly he looked up, and in a moment all memory
of Meri and the rest was lost to mind in a wild access
of fear.

■ Have a care, Hari,' he cried ; ' have a care ! Dost
thou not know that this is the belly of the great sub-
eddy ? Pull, Brother, pull, or we shall be sucked down
into the under-world, and fall screaming into the grip
of the Water Demon ! '

c Biar-lah! So be it, Bachelor!' said Hari quietly,
H

98 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

as he deliberately shipped his oar. c In the dwelling
of the Water Demon thou mayest find much fish
wherewith to deck the table at thy bridal feast, for
now surely thou shalt wed the daughter of the said
Demon ! ' Then for the first time for some weeks
Hari laughed heartily, but his laughter was not pleasant
to listen to.

The surface of the water, in that part of the lagoon
over which they were now drifting, seemed to have
become suddenly strangely smooth and oily, and the
boat seemed to be drawn forward by some invisible
force, which also appeared to be pulling the sheet of
water bodily along with it, much as a fisherman draws
a sail, which he is spreading to dry, along the ground.
Sam was straining every nerve, tugging desperately at
his oar, striving with might and main to check the
progress of the boat. The single oar caused the light
craft to spin slowly round and round, and seeing this,
Sam made a clutch at its fellow, which Hari had
shipped when first the undertow began to grip them.
Before he could reach it, however, Hari, who was
watching him intently, leaned quickly forward, seized
the oar in both hands, and threw it over the side, far
out of reach of either of the men in the boat. The
slimy, oily current caught the lighter object at once,
and the oar drew quickly away from the boat, running
swiftly ahead in the course in which the men knew
that they must presently follow. Sam gave an in-
articulate howl, half curse, half lamentation, and re-
doubled his efforts at the rowing, causing the boat to
spin giddily. Hari leaned back in the stern and
watched Sam keenly, with a very genuine satisfaction.

IN ARCADIA 99

The hard-held resentment against this man, the firm
grip over his rebellious temper which Hari had so often
found it difficult to maintain in the face of Sam's
constant jibes and jeers, the fierce hatred that during
the last few weeks had been eating into his heart, — the
memory of all these things made the sight of Sam's
agonised face, and wild struggles to avert the destruc-
tion that threatened them both, very sweet to watch
and linger over to the man who sat gloating over the
other's misery from his seat in the stern of the boat.

Sam's eyes seemed to be starting out of his head ;
his face was convulsed with his rending efforts to
delay the onrush of the whirling boat, and it was
lined and drawn with the agony of terror that was
marked in his wildly roving eyes, in his parted, parched
lips, in the hard, cruel puckers and bruise-like dis-
colorations which had suddenly sprung into being on
his brown forehead. The sweat of fear and exertion
was streaming down his face and chest, and his breath
came in short, tearing, hard -drawn gasps and gulps,
while the apple in his throat leaped up and down
ceaselessly like a ball balanced on a dancing jet of
water.

Presently Hari leaned forward, with his elbows on
his knees, and began to speak in a strangely calm and
even voice.

1 The men of ancient days,' he began, ' have left us
a saying, that it is not good to straighten the legs,
stretching them before thee, until the buttocks have
reached the floor in sitting. It is a good saying, and
a true. What thinkest thou, Bachelor ? '

Sam, still labouring convulsively at his useless toil,

ioo STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

while the boat spun round and round, drifting certainly,
slowly to destruction, groaned aloud, and Hari laughed
discordantly.

4 Who thinkest thou will now have Men to wife?
If I chance to win through she will be mine, — fairly
won. But as for thee, Bachelor, thou wilt not pass
the rocks alive, for I will be at hand to see that the
Water Demon's Daughter is not robbed of a husband
as thou wilt be of a wife ! Row, Brother, row !
Row for Meri, and for me, while I sit here, like a
Tuan^ beholding thy labour ! '

The boat was travelling at an increased rate of
speed now, and at last, in despair, Sam ceased his
useless rowing, and stood erect in the bows, facing
Hari, his breath coming hissingly through his parted
lips. He raised the oar he held high above his head
and brought it down in an ill-aimed blow at Hari's
jeering face. He was desperately out of breath with
his hard rowing, and his limbs felt weak and spent,
so when the oar lay clattering on the boat's side, Hari
had no difficulty in wresting it from his feeble grasp,
and hurling it overboard after its fellow.

Sam glared furiously at the man who had led him
into this terrible position, and whom he seemed to be
powerless to harm.

'Thou hast seemingly forgotten thy knack of
husking cocoanuts, Brother,' laughed Hari, and then,
with a roar of rage, Sam was upon him, and the two
stood locked in the death-grapple. From side to side
they swayed, reeling this way and that, balancing
themselves as best they might on the thwarts of the
rocking boat. At any time Hari could outmatch

IN ARCADIA 101

Sam in strength, and now the latter was sore spent
with the furious efforts he had made to save himself
from the grip of the sucking eddy, and with the fear
of death, which, more than any other emotion/ draws
the virtue from a man's bones. For a second or two
they clutched one another in their 'fierce wrestling
match, and then Hari partially freed himself from the
hands of his adversary, and hurled him over the boat's
side. But Hari had had to put forth all his strength
to gain the advantage over his maddened victim, and
before he could save himself, he too had lost his balance,
and was struggling aimlessly in the fast-running oily
sea. A rush of salt water into his gullet, a tugging at
his heels, which seemed as though it would draw him
down into the depths, then a slow upward motion,
and a blue-white light overhead showed him that he
was coming to the surface. His lungs expelled the
imprisoned air, which felt as though it must burst
them to atoms, and Hari, dashing the water from his
eyes, looked round him over the face of the waters.
Sam's straw hat he could see floating at some distance
to his left, and the boat was lurching along at a great
pace farther to the left still, but nosign of Sam was
visible. Hari noticed with surprise that both the hat
and the boat were moving much faster than he ap-
peared to be doing, and eventually it was borne in
upon his mind that by some marvellous chance the
undertow, which had dragged him down into the
depths, had cast him up again beyond the reach of the
swirling eddy, towards which the boat was still hurry-
ing wildly. Hari had so completely made up his mind
to die, and during the last half hour had become so

102 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

entirely reconciled to the idea, provided always that he
could arrange a similar fate for Sam, that at first he
.hardly grasped the possibility of escape. Then in
a whelming rush the love of life, and the instinct of
pelf- preservation, which will cause even a suicide to
struggle to -undo his own work, if he have but the
time to make the effort, awoke in Hari, goading him
to agonised struggles. All the people of Arcadia can
swim rather better than any otter in Great Britain, for
they are in and out of the sea all day long, from the
time when they first learn to crawl, and many of them
can make headway in the water long before they can
walk erect upon the dry land. So Hari was not really
so much out of his natural element during the fight
for life in which he now engaged. The current still
tugged at his toes, and made it hard to win away,
little by little, and yard by yard, from the hungry eddy
which was not more than a mile distant across the
smooth water. Gradually the current grew slacker,
and a quarter of an hour later, Hari dragged himselt
dead-beat from the sea, and sank exhausted on the
sandy shore.

When he awoke it was already night, and Hari
found the darkness very unattractive. There was a
dim moon, looking sleepy and woebegone behind her
trailing bed-curtains of cloud, and now and again the
water at his feet broke into blue and silver streaks or
phosphorescence, in token of the disturbance caused by
some fish floating close to the surface. Hari fancied
that he could see the strained face of Sam, distorted
and prominent-eyed as he had seen it last, peering at
him, out of the shadows, from half a dozen directions

IN ARCADIA 103

at once, and the fancy displeased him mightily. He
was very stiff with his late exertions, and he was chilled
to the bone. Moreover he had got rid of his shirt and
pants, during his long swim, and now stood mother-
naked on the shore, with all Nature standing still to
gaze at him. All at once he was filled with a great
sense of failure. He had worked very hard in order
that Meri might be his, and now in this shivering
moment of reaction, when his mind was suddenly
released from the keen tension of the last few hours,

life sggmgf} suddenly flaf^ insipj^ nnalliiring^ and Meri

herself, for whom he had schemed and sinned, no longer
specially desirable.

He made his way back to Settlement Island,
shivering and depressed, a draggled, miserable object,
starting, like a shying horse, at every shadow on his
path. The usual night -guard of watchmen was
snoring peacefully, as though its members had but a
single nose, when Hari staggered into the hut, and
having borrowed a pair of pants from one of the
rudely awakened guards, was duly led before the
Scotchman, in the big bungalow among the fruit-
trees. The owner of the island promptly dosed Hari
with a brimming tot of very choice old Scotch Whisky,
thirty years in cask, and thus encouraged, the victim or
the disaster told a moving story of the treacherous
whirlpool which had dragged down Sam and the boat,
while only he was left to tell the tale. The whisky
danced through his veins and made him feel that, after
all, life was not so flat, stale, and unprofitable a thing
as he had at one time imagined.

io+ STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

There was nothing to point to Hari as having
caused Sam's death, indeed all could testify to the
friendship which had subsisted between the twain, so
in due time Sam was forgotten, and Hari took Meri
to wife.

It was a week or two after this, one night, as
it chanced to be Han's turn to take his share of the
guard duty in the watch-house, that old Sandi, the
headman of the watch, crept close to Hari, when the
other men were sleeping, and asked him if he was still
awake. Sandi wriggled up closer still, and peered into
Hari's face.

' Little Brother,' he said, c I have long desired to
have private speech with thee, for on that dayVhen
thou didst go a-fishing with Sam I too was fishing on
the lagoon.'

He looked at Hari meaningly, but the latter made
no sign of comprehension.

c Have no fear of me, Little Brother,' the old man
went on, C I have no desire to harm thee, but, from
afar, I beheld Sam arise and strive to strike thee with
his oar, and thereafter ye twain were locked in a
wrestling match, and I saw how both fell into the sea.
I held my peace then and later, for I am an old man,
and I have learned that little good comes to him who
sees too much, and thereafter blabs of what his eyes
have beheld ; but, Little Brother, tell me of that which
befell that day, for it did my old heart good to see once
more two youths acting as men should act, fighting to
the death for the love of a maiden.'

There was such a genuine ring of real feeling and
appreciation in Sandi's voice, that Hari had no further

IN ARCADIA 105

doubts as to his good faith, and he at once launched
out into a boastful, swaggering account of his great
deed, cheered and encouraged in the recital by the vivid
appreciation evinced by his audience.

1 It was well done,' commented the old man, when
at last the tale was ended, 'and, in truth, my liver
waxes warm when I remember that there be still
men left to us in this land of cowards ; for, Little
Brother, in the far-off days when I also was young,
Ya Allah I we took but little thought for the value of
a life when the man who owned it stood between us
and our heart's desire ! Ya Allah ! I too, in my time,
have seen the red blood gush out, and have smelt its
reek, more sweet than the cheek of maiden ! But now
these dull islands from which we may not depart into
the great world, beyond the leaping waves, are no
longer utterly without light, for they have bred at
least two Men, — thee and me, Little Brother, — who
knew how to fashion our actions into the mould that
befits our sex ! '

And thereafter Hari felt that he had acted as
became a man, and a bond of sympathy bound him
and Sandi together with a tie which nothing might
sever.

Varro says that even the ancient Arcadians, chosen
by lot (which is another name for Fate), swam across
a certain pool, and henceforth were transformed into
wolves, living in the desert places with wild beasts like
unto themselves ; and in this modern Arcadia of the
Indian Ocean, Destiny still beckons to a few of the
people, bidding them put off the miserable tameness of

106 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

their fellows, and break, be it only for a little space,
the dead and dreary monotony of the island life. For
even in these sheltered and secluded spots, where there
is ' no crime,' old Human Nature, as I have already
said, is very much like itself.

THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE

Ere the dank Earth sank 'neath the tread of Man,

Ere hut* were built in the dell j ^.

Ere the streams were girt with the bamboo span,

When none save the Winds dared fell ;
When the Fairies and Sprites, through the soft, sad nights,

Played unscared by the voices of men,
The Old One, whose arm fends the great trees from harm,

Was guarding them even then !

Then Man came creeping with halting feet,

O'er the ground, which to him was strange,
But still he worshipped, with service meet,

The trees where he late did range j
And as feet grew strong, while the years wax'd long,

Till the tree-tops were foreign land,
The Ancient One's ban was respected of Mun,

Though he saw not the Ancient One's hand !

It was during the first few years of my service in the
East, that I forgathered with poor Trimlett. He
was a Cornishman by birth, and his father was the
manager or purser of one of the largest tin-mines in
the Duchy. This father of Trimlett's was a man who
held strong views as to the virtue of hard work, and
its salutary effect upon the young ; and since we are
all, up to a certain point, dependent upon our parents

108 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

for the moulding of our characters, Trimlett owed
many things to the training which his father had
ordained for him. After he left school, Trimlett had
been sent 'underground,' to work for a year as a
common mining hand. He had acquired thereby a
very sound knowledge of sinking and driving and
stopping ; a network of hard knotty muscles ; an
elaborate vocabulary, in the use of which, however,
he was very economical ; and an extraordinary fund of
Old- World superstitions, all of which he accepted as
Gospel.

People who only know the Cornish Miner in his
later developments, since Mining Acts have relieved his
body, and Board Schools have made gallant efforts to
expand his mind, can have little conception of what he
was wont to be, and of what he was called upon to
endure, in the bad old days before any one had learned
to concern himself with the sorrows of the working
classes. In those times, a Cornish boy began life
< underground ' at the age of nine, or ten. The poor
little shivering mite would often be called from the
bed, that in winter was never too warm, at three or
four o'clock in the morning, and with a thin mess of
porridge, or gruel pap, to warm his half-starved body,
would have to trudge through the black darkness, —
which to his imagination was peopled by a thousand
horrors, — to the mine, that lay perhaps a mile or two
away from the hovel he called Home. Then his real
miseries began. There was only one job of which a
child in a big mine was capable, namely the turning ot
an air-fan, to force a current of less impure breathing-
matter into the stifling depths of the drives and stopes,

THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE 109

in which the men worked, nude and sweating.
Though most of miners had endured, in their time,
the agonies through which the poor little brat at the
air-fan was going, no one had a thought to save him,
or to help him. Economy is an excellent virtue,
which was much practised in the mines of Cornwall,
even in the days before the Chinese coolies of the
Peninsula flooded the World's markets with tin, and
since no light was necessary to enable a child to turn
the crank of an air-fan, candles were not served out to
the poor brat, when his turn came to be lowered into
the bowels of the mine. Thus for a shift of many
hours, which to him seemed as years, the miserable little
Cornish boy would stand quaking with fear, in total
darkness. Any one who, as a child, has endured the
agony of terror, that is to be experienced when fear
falls upon one in the dark, will be able to picture to
himself something of what the little Cornish boy felt,
day after day, as he toiled at turning the air-fan. But
it is at best only dimly that an educated man can
realise the full measure of the child's sufferings, for
while we are taught to disbelieve in all the things that
are not apparent to the senses, even the grown men in
Cornwall are steeped in every kind of superstition, and
from their earliest infancy, the children of the Duchy
hear tales of ghosts, and goblins, and c pixies,' told
gravely by their elders, whose words they naturally are
not accustomed to doubt. It was in a world of
horrible, malignant beings, — usually invisible, but
sometimes, so men said, terrifically apparent to human
eyes, — that the poorly fed, ill-nurtured Cornish child
began his days, with the hours of darkness, in which

no STUDIES IN BROWN HUMAN ITT

Evil Spirits chiefly have power, lengthened exceedingly
by the awful blackness of the mine.

I have seen Cornishmen tremble with fear at the
bare recollection of the heavy things they suffered as
children, in the perpetual darkness in which they
worked. Often and often, one man told me, he had
ceased turning the crank of the fan, so that the miners
in the drives and stopes below would begin to suffer
from the foulness of the air, and would promptly
climb up the ladder -way, very full of wrath, and
bubbling over with strange oaths, and l Put the buckle-
strap in about 'un,' — which means a very complete
licking. He said that he did this 'for the sake of
company,' and it needs little proving how acute the
mental sufferings of the unhappy little urchin must
have been, before he voluntarily exchanged it for the
physical pain of a sound thrashing, administered by the
hand of one who had spent all his life smashing rocks.

It is not difficult to understand what the effect of
such a youth as this was upon the mind of many
Cornish miners. The prolonged and intense strain
upon the child's nerves, combined with the agony of
fear, which had gradually become an almost chronic
condition of his mind, too often rendered him, in after
years, a man of poor courage in an emergency, and a
weak-charactered individual, possessed of little power
of self-control. I must be understood as generalising
widely, for of course there are many and brilliant
exceptions to the broad rule which I am laying down,
— men who have acted gallantly, saving life, when no
one save their God was at hand to blame them if they
played the coward j and others, scattered up and down

THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE in

the World, who have c broken their birth's invidious
bars' and have risen to positions of great trust and
responsibility, and to the attainment of as much wealth
as is good for any man. But such men as these
cannot be regarded as in any way typical of the class
from which they spring. They would probably have
come to the fore under any circumstances, no matter
what the conditions in which they chanced to be born,
and they must be regarded as having done so in spite
of their surroundings, rather than as owing anything
to their early training.

Young Trimlett's first experience in the mine to
which his father elected to send him, was a severe
clout on the side of the head, administered whole-
heartedly by an irate miner, whose susceptibilities the
lad had unwittingly offended. Trimlett could not for
the life of him understand what he had done to call
for this summary punishment, and as the angry miner
was a far older man than himself, and was, moreover,
several sizes larger, the youngster saw that retaliation
was out of the question, and with a view to showing
that he did not mind, began to whistle unconcernedly.
Thereupon the brawny miner promptly knocked him
down. When he began to recover from the effects of
this new outrage, some one explained to him the cause
of the assault. ' Tha' must na* whustle ondergroond,'
he said ; c if tha' do tha'll carl the Pixies, sure 'nuff, an*
the 'ands'll vair slay thee ! ' That was the beginning
of young Trimlett's training among the men of the
Cornish mine. He was only a lad of sixteen or seven-
teen at the time, and that is perhaps the most im-
pressionable of all ages. Gradually, and imperceptibly,

112 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Trimlett began to absorb the strange beliefs and
superstitions of the men among whom all his days were
spent. He was as credulous concerning things super-
natural as Mrs. Crow herself could have desired, and
when I knew him, a dozen years ago, his mental
attitude, in regard to such matters, was the most ex-
traordinary, for an educated man, that can well be
conceived.
i « All that has been written above is designed to

t'yt

enable the reader to form his own opinion as to the
j|probability or otherwise of the story I have to tell.
Personally, I know Trimlett to have been a very
truthful individual, and though I am altogether unable
to find a working explanation that will fit the facts,
that does not shake my faith in the tale as he told it
to me.

At the time of which I write, Trimlett was
stationed in Perak, at an out-of-the-way little place
called Seputeh, trying to teach the intractable Chinese
miner not to mine on his neighbour's land, and to
refrain from misappropriating his friends' pay-dirt.
The life was a very lonely one, and there was nothing
to be had in the nature of amusements, such as
Englishmen conjure up all over the World from out the
ground, wherever a few of them are gathered together.
This it was that drove Trimlett to tree-felling as an
occupation, during his leisure hours. It is a healthy
form of exercise, and it kept Trimlett's muscles in
good trim for the occasional rough-and-tumbles in
which he was called upon to engage with refractory
Chinese coolies. The Malays put it down to drunken-
ness, that useful explanation, which, to the native

THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE 113

mind, accounts for ninety per cent of the incompre-
hensible eccentricities of the White Men, — the Chinese
imagined that Trimlett hoped to make a fortune in the
timber trade, and the Englishman, quite undisturbed
by the opinions of those about him, went on hacking
away at all the finest trees in the vicinity of his hut.
For this was in the very early days, before such things
as forest-conservancy were dreamed of in Perak.

I had occasion to visit Trimlett in his camp among
the tin-mines once or twice every month, and I must
own that his surroundings were the reverse of cheering.
His hut, which was composed of a single room, stood
on a spot that had been flattened out, from the
side of a hill, and the jungle around it had been par-
tially cleared, the felled trees lying in all directions, a
confused mass of dying trunks and boughs. In the
valley below, the paddocks of the Chinese alluvial
mines were plainly visible, the coolies swarming up
and down the ladders, and round and about the brink,
like ants near their nest. The unsightly heaps of
earth, of an ugly yellow colour, sparsely grown upon
with scant and weedy green-stuff, made the whole
scene hideous, and even the queerly- shaped palm-
leaf coolie-lines, on the left, were powerless to impart
an air of picturesqueness to the place. About half
way up the hill, to the right of the hut in which
Trimlett lived, there stood a gigantic merbau tree,
running up sheer into the sky, without branch or
fork, to a height of more than a hundred feet. At its
foot, in the spaces between the spreading, knotty roots,
half a dozen handfuls of Chinese joss-sticks were
stuck into the ground, the tips smouldering sulkily,

ii + STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

and emitting an unpleasantly ' Chinese ' smell. The
charred ashes of tinsel paper, lying all about, marked
the spots where paper money, which is piously supposed
to satisfy the financial desires of the Spirits, had been
burned by some devout Chinamen. On projections
of the bark, and from wands fixed in the ground,
depended the strips of foul rag which both the Malays
and the Chinese furnish to the Beings of the other
World, with a view to supplying their strangely in-
comprehensible wants. When we remember that, in
the first instance, the idea of what things were most
likely to prove acceptable to the Spirits must have
been evolved by human beings, a contemplation of
the extraordinary uselessness of the offerings selected
fills one with wonder. The charred tinsel, which is
designed to represent money, may be explained by the
belief entertained by men, in all parts of the World,
that the Spirits are very easily deceived by counterfeit
of any kind. But when we come to such things as
rags, which even a scavenger might despise, an ex-
planation is less easy to find. Perhaps these gifts had
their origin in the far-off days, when garments of any
sort were things of price, and a man was accounted
rich who could go abroad among his fellows lightly
garbed in a wisp of coarse stuff bound about his head.
In those times, conceivably, a rag given to the gods
represented a large part of a man's possessions, the
sacrifice of which meant some real high-mindedness on
the part of the giver ; and though, in these days of
Birmingham and Manchester goods, any man can
spare a handful of rotting calico, if thereby he may
please the Spirits, the practice has survived, though the

THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE 115

original meaning of the gifts has long ago been for-
gotten. Of course such speculations as these must
necessarily be the purest guess-work, though, for my
own part, I regard the above as being at least as good
an explanation as any other.

Trimlett pointed the merbau tree out to me, as we
sat smoking in front of his hut.

' I mean to have a try at him, one of these days,'
he said.

' How do you mean ? ' I asked him.

' Oh, I mean to try and fell him,' he said. c He is an
awful monster, and he will give me a hard job of it, I
expect, but I will get him down none the less, sooner
or later, sure enough.'

' I do not fancy that the natives will like it much
if you do,' I said. c The tree is supposed to be kramat
— sacred — by the Malays, and it is a Joss of the
Chinamen's also. You had far better leave it alone.'

'Rubbish!' said Trimlett; 'they won't care;
besides, he is a splendid fellow to axe, and I have
promised myself the treat of bringing him down for a
long time past.'

'Well, if I had anything to do with it I would
stop you,' I said ; ' I do not believe in hurting the feel-
ings of the natives on these sort of subjects.'

' But you see you have not got anything to do with
it, Old Man ! ' Trimlett replied j and as I knew that
quite well, without Trimlett going out of his way to
tell me, I said nothing more about it, which was
possibly Trimlett's object in making the remark.

I did not see Trimlett again for a week, or more,
and then he was brought in to Kuala Kangsar, where

116 S1VDIES IN BROWN HUMAN TIT

I then lived, swearing horribly at each jolt of the
stretcher upon which he lay.

I put him to bed, and sent for the Dresser, to bind
him up, and it was while he lay propped against the
pillows, that he told me of what had befallen him.

He had been very busy, after I had left him at
Scputeh, and had not had time to give the merbau tree
another thought, until the work slackened. Then he
had recalled our conversation about the tree, and since
I had strongly advised him not to touch it, he, of
course, determined to cut it down, with as little delay
as possible.

He stated his intention to his Malay followers, who,
one and all, entreated him to forgo his purpose, and,
when they found that they could not prevail upon
him, lost no time in reporting the matter to the Malay
Headman at Enggor. This worthy hastened to the
spot, and added his prayers to those of the other
Malays, and the Mandors of the Chinese miners
joined their voices to the clamour of general protest.

'What possible harm can come of it? ' Trimlett
asked.

'God alone knows,' replied the Malay Headman.
'The tree is said to be sacred to the Spirits. The
men of ancient days bade us have a care how we
tampered with aught that the Spirits hold dear, and
such an one is the said tree.'

' But any risk there may be I take ; no other man
will suffer, is that not so, Penghulu ? ' asked Trimlett.

' I know not,' was the reply. ' Who shall say what
the Spirits may do if they wax wrathful ? And if
indeed, Tuan y thou only shouldst suffer, will not the

THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE 117

" Company " be angry with me, the Headman, in that
I did not deter thee from a so foolish enterprise ? '

Trimlett was not pleased with the Penghulu for
presuming to stigmatise as foolish any project upon
which his mind was set ; and he let the Malay know
his opinion in a manner which was unmistakable.
Eventually both the Malays and the Chinese took
themselves off, for every wise native is aware that an
angry White Man is an ill creature to deal with, and
their visit left Trimlett more set upon felling the tree
than ever.

It was at about five o'clock in the afternoon that
Trimlett strolled across from his hut to the foot of the
mirbau tree. He stood there, for a moment or two,
gazing with upturned face at the great gray trunk,
running in a sheer unbroken line, from the knotted
roots below, to the spreading boughs, silhouetted
against the clear evening sky. It seemed a veritable
tower of strength, c that stood four square to all the
winds that blew,' and the knowledge that he could
fell it to the ground gave Trimlett a strange sense of
power. He had no compunction, for in common with
a large class of Englishmen, Trimlett took a keen
pleasure in any act of destruction, and the enjoyment
to be experienced was in direct proportion to the size
of the object of his attack. He peeled off his coat,
rolled up his shirt-sleeves, and prepared for action.

There was one thing that Trimlett, when he told
me the story, was particularly anxious that I should
clearly understand. The warnings and protests of the
natives had not, so he averred, left any sort of impression
on his mind. As he stood before the tree, prior to

u8 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

beginning his attack upon it, no thought of its sup-
posed sanctity, no memory of the Spirits to whom the
Headman had said that the tree was dear, was in
Trimlett's mind. He felt no greater measure of
excitement than he was accustomed to experience when
his axe was in his hand, and a new forest giant, of rather
more than the ordinary dimensions, was marked for the
felling. Trimlett was very clear upon this, point, and
was wont to resent any insinuation to the effect that the
strange thing that happened to him, was due to a pre-
conceived opinion upon his part, that the felling of the
Spirits' tree was likely to be accompanied by some
supernatural event, (it is, of course, a matter of some
doubt, how far a man can be trusted to know what is,
and what is not in his mind, at any given time, or to
judge how much, or how little he has been influenced
by any trivial, or even important occurrence ; for most
of us are so put together that we can never be quite sure
what functions are being performed by the various parts
of our complicated mental machinery A Anyhow, to the
best of his belief, Trimlett's thougnts were wholly
occupied with considerations as to the best manner in
which he might fell the tree, and with the triumph
which would be his when the great feat was at length
accomplished.

He planted his feet firmly on the ground, rather far
apart, weighed his axe lightly, poising it in his hands,
then, clasping it tightly, raised it high above his right
shoulder, and brought it down, with all his force, upon
the gnarled bark of the tree. The clear, crisp ring of the
steel upon the wood, as the blow told loudly, floated
out on the still air, and the awakened echoes called

THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE 119

to one another, from hill to hill, through the forest-
clad uplands. The thousand noises which, taken
together, make the heavy stillness of the afternoon,
were lost for a moment, drowned by the sound of the
axe. Then the jungle-songs broke out once more, as
the echoes died away, on the scented, slow-breathing
wind. A couple of barau-barau thrushes were warb-
ling liquidly ; the clear, far - carrying note of the
selanting mixed with their swift trilling ; and the
shriek of the great noisy earth-worm, that cries
sullenly from its burrow, a foot beneath the ground,
strove manfully to drown the sweeter music of the
birds. An odd dozen of cicada were chirping and ticking
in the forest, and very far away the moaning hoot of
the siamang monkeys could be faintly heard. All these
voices of bird, and beast, and insect made the quiet
evening hour alive with sound, as, in jungle places, it
always must be j but though the chorus went on with
unabated vigour, after that first blow of Trimlett's axe,
somehow it seemed to the Englishman as though a
kind of hush had fallen upon the land. He had some
di fficulty in exp lain irtgprecjsely what he meant, when
he toldme the story, but it seemed, he said, as though
there were two spheres of sound, — one in which he
heard the chorus of birds and insects, as clearly as ever,
and another, totally different, in which the stillness
seemed to be suddenly intensified and deepened, to an
awful pitch of tension, that had something terrifying in
it. It was this other, stranger region of sound, however,
that seemed for the moment to be the more real. The
other, in which the songs of bird and insect had part,
appeared to be indescribably remote and distant. It

120 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMAN ITT

was a curious sensation to have experienced, and after-
wards, when he came to recall it, Trimlett felt surprised
that he had not been more impressed by it at the
time. As it was, however, he read no warning in the
strange prank that his ears appeared to be playing
upon him ; and once more he swung the axe back,
high above his shoulder, preparatory to bringing it
down for another blow, slightly advancing his left foot
as he did so.

It was at this moment that he became aware of a
weird object at his feet. It had no particular size, or
shape, or colour ; it bore no sort of resemblance to any
object that Trimlett had ever seen. It simply forced
the fact of its horrible, revolting, repulsive presence
upon Trimlett, without the Englishman being able
clearly to distinguish through which_j>f_his senses the
./^unearthly impression was conveyed. It seemed to
seize his attention in a grip that was an agony ; to
rivet every function of his mind ; to possess him
utterly with overwhelming aversion, and uncontrollable
fear. Trimlett's axe was uplifted for a strok'e, and,
almost before he was aware what he was doing, he
brought it crashing down upon the Unspeakable Un-
cleanliness at his feet. It was not till he was apprised
of the fact, by an agony of pain, that Trimlett became
aware that the object at which he had smitten so fiercely
was his own left foo t. Even then, the idea of that revolt-
ing, disgusting Presence was so firmly fixed in his mind
that, as he fell over, he tried with all his might to
throw himself down on the side farthest from that
upon which he believed it to belying. The earth, for
many yards around the tree, was worn smooth and

THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE 121

hard, by the passing to and fro of countless generations
of horny-footed worshippers, so there was not sufficient
cover to effectually conceal a beetle, yet Trimlett could
see nothing unusual, except the red glouts of blood
that had leaped from the wide wound in his foot.
Then and after, he maintained stoutly that it was
wholly impossible that anything, which had really been
there, could have evaded his scrutiny ; and since a
sane man is not generally scared out of his senses by the
sight of one of his own limbs, Trimlett accounted for
the besetment that had seized him by the theory that the
Spirit of the Tree had hypnotised him into mistaking
his foot for the weird denizen of some mysterious un-
known World. If, in truth, the tree, as the Headman
said, was dear to the Spirits, this mode of protecting
their property was certainly as effectual as any that
could have been devised, for Trimlett never tried to
fell the mirbau, and no one else had any desire to make
the attempt.

It is no part of my business to offer any explanation
of this affair, for the story is not mine, but Trimlett' s ;
but since he, poor fellow, is no longer amongst us to
tell the tale himself, I have thought it perhaps worth
while to place th^factsj such as they are, on Record)

AT THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN

We Fettered Folk have felt your yoke,

For heavy years and long j
We've learned to sight where tortuous Right

Breaks loose from tangled^ Wrong.
To us the twain, 'tis all too plalnT"

Be like as pea to pea,
But ye be wise, and so_ our ey es

Must see as White Men see.

Your rule is just, and since we must,

We learn to kiss the yoke j
You we'll obey, by night and day,

But not your dark-skin 'd Folk !
The bearded Sikh, and Tamil sleek,

With them we will not deal,
Nor with the throng that crowds along

Close to the White Man's heel !

To begin to understand anything at all about the
Malay, you must realise, from the first, that he is
intensely self-respecting. He possesses, in a high
degree, one of the most characteristic qualities of the
English gentleman, — he is absolutely and supremely
sure of himself. It does not occur to him to assume
airs of equality or superiority, for the very simple
reason that he is quite satisfied with himself as he is, —
as it has pleased God to fashion him, — and this, instead

AT THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN 123

of making him unbearably conceited, as might well
be the case, causes him to take hi s place in any society

quite initiiraHjr_with fnmfnrt tn hnth hitnsg1f_anrj_Ms

neighbours, since he is not for ever mentally compar-
ing his own position with that of others. Thus one
may make an intimate friend of a Malay, may share
the same hut with him for long periods at a time, and
may talk to him of all things within his comprehension,
without there being any risk of familiarity breeding
contempt, or of the Malay taking advantage of his
position to dig you in the ribs, or to call you by your
Christian name. He respects himself far too much to
dream of taking liberties, or to be otherwise than
courteous and respectful towards those with whom he
has to deal. And this, be it remembered, is a national
characteristic ; for everything that I have said applies
with equal force to the humblest Malay villager, and
to the most courtly Native Chief. There are, of
course, many lamentable instances of Malays who have
been educated .out of this self-respecting reserve, and
who have become almost as offensive and familiar as a
low-caste European, but the existence of these un-
fortunates must be placed to the credit of the White
Men, whose presence has produced them, and not
debited against the Malay, with whom they have
nothing in common. Any way you look at them,
these abnormal developments are a subject for tears.

We English have an immense deal to answer for,
and it will be interesting to see exactly how our
account stands when the good and the bad that we
have done, — both with the most excellent intentions,
— face one another, in double columns, on the pages

124 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

of the Recording Angel's Day-Book. We come into
a country which is racked with war and rapine, and
after making a little war of our own, to help to set
things straight, we reduce the land to a dead mono-
tony of order and peace. We find vile misrule, and
a government which is so incompetent and impotent
that it is incapable of even oppressing its subjects
completely, or upon any organised system, and we
replace it by a high -class, triple -action, automatic,
revenue-producing administration that presses equally
upon all alike. We give the poor and hitherto unde-
fended rights, of the very existence of which they had
never formerly dreamed ; we free the slaves, who have
for generations been made to labour sorely against
their will, and who celebrate their emancipation by
declining to engage in any toil more arduous than
betel- chewing, with an occasional theft thrown in,
when the children cry for rice ; we lop his power from
the Chief, who, it must be confessed, has always
consistently abused it, but finds little to comfort him
in the recollection ; we open up the most inaccessible
places ; we bring Trade, and Money, and Prosperity,
and Material Comfort, and Sanitation, and Drains,
and a thousand other blessings of Civilisation in our
wake. We educate ; we vaccinate ; we physic ; we
punish the Wicked, and we reward the Good. We
administer the native till we make him almost giddy,
and he begins to forget that he is an absurd anachronism
in the Nineteenth Century, and must surely lose his
way most utterly if he tries to stay there. We sweep
away the horrible gaol-cages of Independent Malaya,
and replace them by model prisons of so excellent a

(/) ^

^Uiu^C « '-f

AT THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN 125

type that a native comes to regard them as places
where, should the Fates so decree, he may lodge with
considerable convenience to himself. You can never
instil into a Malay of the lower classes the idea that
going to gaol is something which disgraces a man for
all his days. From his point of view, the whole thing
is purely a matter of capricious chance. He c gets '
imprisonment, just as he catches fever ; and separation
from his women-folk and abstinence from tobacco are
the unfortunate accessories of the former, much as chills
and burnings are the accompaniments of the latter.
All these things, and many others also, we do for the
native when we take over the administration of a
barbarous land, and on the whole we do it all very
well indeed. That the sudden introduction to an
elaborate civilisation, which is itself the result of long
and slow evolution from very primitive beginnings,
should not always tend to immediately improve the
moral character of the bulk of the native population is
unfortunate but inevitable. The fault obviously lies
with the moral nature of the native^ for which no man

can hold us responsible ; and, asf I lhave already said,
we do our part of the business very well indeed, for
we are a great and peculiar people, and the majority of
us are quite ready to wear our souls out in the struggle
to realise what we believe to be for the ultimate good
of the folk we try to rule and serve. And this, be it
said, is neither a light nor an easy task.

Unfortunately we cannot do everything ourselves,
and it is here that the weak part of our administration
comes in. White Men are most expensive creatures
in the World. The schooling fees of an average

iz6 S7VD1ES IN BROWN HVMAN1TY

English boy would be a sufficient sum to pay for the
restocking of an old-world rajas harem, and we all
know what sinful waste goes on in that department or
the State. If all our understrappers were Europeans
the revenue of even the richest lands would be inade-
quate to defray the cost of our administration, and
realising this, we are obliged to bring a host of aliens
at our heels, when we enter a new country for the
purpose of converting things as they are, into things
as they ought to be. When we first make our
appearance we are not particularly loved by anybody.
The Chiefs know that, cloak it as^w^ wJU, we are
there to wrest the^owerjhey have .misused from their
unwilling grasp. Naturally the notion is not one
which inspires them with any particular enthusiasm
for us. To the peasants we are strange new Beings,
whom their masters, the Chiefs, abhor. If half the
tales men tell them of us are true, our coming is
indeed a calamity hard to be borne. The oppression of
the Chiefs is, in the eyes of the peasant, a thing of
course. Since ever Time was, the ill things which a
man must suffer at the hands of one more powerful
than himself have formed the impassable horizon of
the peasant's life. But when the White Men come }
no one can say what new horrors will now be added
to the heavy lot of the people. The Chiefs are at
some pains to confirm this fear, and so the newly
arrived European finds every man's hand against him.
If the work is to be done at all, during the weary
years that must pass before their new rulers can hope
to win the trust and confidence of the people of the
land,laliens must be brought in, to help the White

AT THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN 127

Men in their work. And it is thus that the strangers,
who sell our names for a song, win a foothold from
the very inception of our rule.

They are a miscellaneous crew, of almost any shade
of colour, from coal black to olive, dressed in all manner
of nondescript garments, a weird compound of the
costumes of half a dozen different races. Some are
very dark-complexioned gentry indeed, who wear
excessively European clothes, — collars that once, in
some forgotten age, were white, and neck-ties which,
from much wear, show patches of yellow through
their dingy blackness. Others there are who are
obviously European from their necks to their waists^" l ^ K (
and as evidently Oriental from their belts downwards.
And there are other some who wear English shoes,
and their hair in a chignon. They are a strange col-
lection of different races and classes of human beings ;
from the burly Sikh, in his coiled turban, to the little
Malay from the Colony, or from some well -settled
District of a neighbouring State ; from the fluent,
educated Tamil, to the black and naked cooly of the
same race, whom the Malays name c Bukit PekanJ — the
Hill-Tribes of the town, — because they also go abroad
among men uncumbered with any garment save a
narrow wisp of dirty loin-cloth twisted about their
middles.

The Malays loathe_antLdetest the men of their own
race who flock into a newly protected State at the
heels of their white masters. In the villages, where
the people are ignorant, and therefore are the natural
prey of any one who stands possessed of a little
cunning, the Malay Policeman is treated with elaborate

V^s. I28 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMAN I7T

courtesy. They call him 'Che' Sarjin,' — which
— means Mr. Sergeant, — defer to him on almost every
point, give him their daughters to wife, if he so wills
it, and do all they can to propitiate him. At the
King's Court men hate him more, and fear him less.
They are aware that he is not the bravest person of
their acquaintance, and they find it hard to resist the
very natural temptation to beat him whenever the
opportunity offers. He is better educated than are
sj/ \i*M tne youths °f tne Capital, and since he has a pretty

** r \ v y knack of turning a love verse, he is constantly the
object of some lady's attentions. This has a great
deal to do with the hatred he inspires in the men, and

\V*" & it is because of his love affairs that the opportunity for

j* v , v beating him so frequently occurs, and always proves so

.- r a^ \S irresistible.

But perhaps it is the Sikh who is most abhorrent
to the Malay of all the followers of the White Men.
He is possessed of as absolute a conviction of his own
superiority to the men of any other race — Europeans
alone excepted — as is the White Man himself. He
/ is quite frank about this opinion, and he is accustomed
to act upon it at all times. To other Asiatics he is as
( arrogant and overbearing as can well be conceived, and
he displays none of the tact which helps to make a
European less hated for his airs of superiority than
he might be. The noisy, loud-mouthed, awkward,
familiar- mannered, bullying Sikh is as unlike the
courteous, soft-tongued Malay as one human being can
well be from another, and his conduct and behaviour
to the people of the land hurts the latter's self-respect
at every turn.

Al THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN 129

No man needs to be told that the Sikh is a splendid
soldier. His powers of endurance, especially his
marching capabilities, would astonish a man whose
experience of troops was confined to European soldiers ;
but the Sikh, partly perhaps because the discipline to
which he is accustomed has become an inseparable
portion of his nature, seems to be altogether incapable
of thinking rationally for himself, and he is altogether
lost unless he has a White Man at his shoulder to tell
him what to be at.

1 Why do you not go inside your sentry-box ? ' a
friend of mine cried from his verandah to a Sikh who
was solemnly marching up and down upon his beat in
rain such as the Malays say prevents one from even
opening one's eyes.

c There is no order ! ' was the reply, and this is
typical of the race to which the sentry belonged. So
long as there is some one at hand to give an order, the
Sikh will obey it as few other men will do. He never
counts the cost, he never hesitates, though he be
commanded to attempt the obviously impossible.
There is an order, and the wisdom and the folly of the
said order does not concern him in the least. The /
Malay, on the other hand, is utterly incapable of being '
disciplined into a machine. He has, and always
retains, his own ideas — usually wrong o nes, be it
said — of how any given thing ought to be Hone, and
no amount of training will teach him to jump to the <
word of command, while wholly abandoning his own
opinion as to its wisdom. This makes the Malay
altogether hopeless as a regular, but fairly useful as an
irregular, for he can think for himself and does not

>' y^

, *»

130 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

need to be told how, when, and where to do any given
thing. But it is when the Malay and the Sikh are set
to work together, and there is no White Man at hand
to direct either of them, that the contrast between
the two races comes out at its best. Here is an
instance : —

Alang Abdollah, the Headman, squatted, flustered
and dejected, upon the matted verandah of my house,
and spat, with disgusted emphasis, when he mentioned
the name of Ram Singh, the Sikh sergeant of Police.
He was of a full habit of body, and the sun had
enforced payment of a heavy tribute as he trudged
along in the heat, so his features were caked with dust,
which clung to each wrinkle, and cracked oddly as his
race worked with anger. For the heart of Alang
Abdollah was full of wrath. He had already expended
most of his available stock of bad language while
limping along the fifteen miles of glaring, aching,
white-hot road, which separated his village from the
place in which I lived, and for a space, he could do little
more than pant, and puff, and blow, expressing his
fury with the Sikh by dumb-show, and an occasional
meaningless expletive.

I saw that he had come to unburden himself to me,
and I gathered that he needed rest before he would be
fit to tell his tale, so I pushed the wooden sirih-box
across the verandah, and spoke fluently of the crops,
while he prepared his quid, and began to regain his
self-possession.

Presently he secreted the folded quid in his cheek,
pushed a large round wad of finely-shredded tobacco
under his upper lip, after carefully wiping his gums

AT THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN 131

with it, and began to speak, in a voice that seemed to
come from behind the thickest part of a baked potato.

c Tuan y I come to thee wailing and weeping,* he
said, c because of the shame which has been put upon
me, and upon the sons of my village, by reason of the
so great folly and wickedness of Ram Singh, the
Sikh ! '

c How is that ? * I asked. ' Relate the matter to
me from the beginning even to the end.*

'Good, Tuan; be pleased to listen to my words, the
words of one who is not skilled in lying.

'The Tuan knows the little Police Station at
Changkat Medang ? Well it is of that station that
Ram Singh hath charge ; and many times he hath
come to me, the Headman, praying that I will give
him knowledge of all untoward things which may
from time to time occur within the limits of my
District.

c Now it chanced upon the afternoon of Friday,
when the Congregational Prayers had been chanted in
the Mosque, that Ngah Seman, a man of my village,
while searching for a buffalo which had gone astraying,
espied some twenty Chinamen camping in the jungle
about one mile-stone distant from the village of Batu
Nering. Ngah Seman was astonished at the sight of
these men, and he squatted in the brushwood watching
them. Then he beheld that they had swords, and
many weapons, and the knowledge came to him that
they were gang -robbers. Therefore, being filled
with a great fear, he retired quietly and with caution,
and ran to me at Changkat Medang, to make known
that which he had seen.

132 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

'Thereafter did I, with much haste, get me to the
Police Station, and make raport to the Sikh Ram
Singh.

c For a long time did we sit consulting one with
another, and cunningly did we devise a plan. Thou
knowest the nature of the village of Batu Nering.
The road runs through it, and the shops are built
adjoining one unto another on each side of the way.
Behind the row of shops, upon the side on which the
sun comes to life, there is a deep swamp through
which no man may pass ; and on the other hand,
where the sun dieth daily, there riseth a steep hill.
The house of the Opium Farmer is on the edge of the
swamp, in the centre of the village, and well I knew
that no other house would be sought by the gang-
robbers, for in no other is there much property, the folk
of that village being an indigent and pauper-like
people. Therefore I said to Ram Singh, "When the
night hath fallen, we will go quietly to the village of
Batu Nering, and we will hide in the shadow of the
five-foot way, so that no man may see us. Thou, O
Brother, shalt hide thee and thy Sikh men near the far
entrance to the village, and I with all my folk will
hide near the other end of the road. Now, when the
gang-robbers come to pillage the Farm we will suffer
them to pass, and then they will be like unto fish in a
trap, having no means of egress. So shall we slay
them or capture them, and our names shall be much
praised by the Government of the White Men."

1 What sayest thou, Tuan y was not my stratagem a
clever one ?

1 Ram Singh said " It is good ! " and when the

AT THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN 133

evening had fallen, we betook ourselves to Batu
Nering, and ordered all things as I had arranged.
The night was dark, for the moon was not alight,
and no man could see those who sat in the shadow
of the five-foot way.

c We sat there waiting for as long as it would take
to cook a pot of rice, and thereafter to chew a quid of
betel-nut ; and presently the robbers came. They
entered the village by the end which Ram Singh
guarded, directing their steps straight to the door of
the Farmer's House, and the Sikhs suffered them to
pass, as had been agreed between us. The robbers
were some twenty men, ill-looking, and of a fierce
and tyrannical mien, and they began forthwith to
break open the door of the Farm.

c Then I cried " Amok ! Amok ! " and my people
sounded the sorak y as we rushed out of the shadow, and
began to advance upon the robbers up the centre of
the road. Ram Singh and his men also made a great
shouting, and spread themselves in a line across their
end of the roadway. Then again I cried " Charge !
Charge ! Amok ! Amok ! " and my people following me,
we began to make shift to throw ourselves upon the
robbers, who stood stricken with fear in the middle of
the village, seeing no means of escape.

'Then above the tumult, and the noise, and the
shouting, I heard the voice of Ram Singh, the Sikh,
calling to his men, " Porisint arrrums ! Pire ! " and
at the word, all the Sikh men did fire their rifles down
the road, so that the bullets made sharp sounds about
my ears. Thereupon I and all my people were over-
come with a great fear, and we fell flat upon the

134 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

ground thus to avoid the bullets of the Silchs. Once
again their rifles sounded, and the bullets went ting,
ting, above my head, and pat, pat, in the dust of the
road, but no one of the gang-robbers was hit, for these
folk have great skill in charms against bullets.

c Now when the gang-robbers beheld that we were
overcome with fear, by reason of the so great folly and
wickedness of the Sikhs, they made haste to escape,
their bare feet treading on our bodies where we lay
hiding from the bullets. One man placed his foot
upon my head* (Alang Abdollah paused to spit at the
recollection), 'and my heart was hot in my breast, so
I rose to my knees, seizing his pig-tail as it flew
behind him. I grasped it very tightly, and, Tuan — it
came off ! It was a false pig- tail that the robber wore
in order to deceive his enemies, and it was charged
with very sharp fish-hooks, so that my hand was
lacerated by them, even as thou seest. Then as I still
gazed at him in astonishment, he turned towards me,
and threw a little parcel of paper in my face. Tuan,
it contained much black pepper, and the paper becom-
ing torn, my eyes were filled with the burning thereof,
so that I was blinded, and fell to the ground screaming
in pain. Accursed be these Chinese gang-robbers,
who are so fierce, and cruel, and tyrannical, and withal
so very cunning and full of wiles !

'Thus these robbers escaped from our hands one
and all ; and as I sat upon the dust of the road, in pain
and blindness, lamenting my fate, Ram Singh, the
Sikh, came to me, and gave abuse, very keen and
pungent, so that a greater shame was put upon me,
and in my agony, I could find but few words to reply.

AT THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN 135

Moreover, I fear that Ram Singh will make raport to
his Tuan^ saying evil things of me and mine, whereas
it was through his sin that the Chinese escaped. How
can a man stand up and fight in the face of the much
shooting of his friends ? Let our enemies and our
friends be known, then may a man fight with a willing
heart, but how can he bear it when his friends also war
against him ? My face is stained with soot because
of this thing, and I come hither wailing and weeping
that thou mayest aid me in the cleansing thereof. O
cause some very heavy punishment to fall upon Ram
Singh, the Sikh, as a return for his wickedness and
sin. Then only will my heart know satisfaction ! '

At the back of his soul, if you could only probe so
deep, the Malay has the firm belief that all non-
Muhammadan people are equally despicable, equally
outcast. He may admire the wisdom and ingenuity
of the White Man, the physical strength and the skill
in athletic exercises displayed by the Sikh, or the
cunning and deft trading of the Chinaman, but,
though he will express his admiration quite freely,
he daily thanks God that he is not as others, — such as
these Publicans. Not that he is in any way a Pharisee,
in the ordinary sense of the term, for he has very little
spiritual pride. All he does think is that he professes
the True Faith, while other folk are hapless Infidels ;
and that consequently he will be saved (no matter
what his deeds in this life may be) while the rest of
the world will be damned, as they deserve to be. In
this belief, which he holds with an unquestioning faith,
he not unnaturally finds considerable comfort. All

136 S7VDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the same, the Malays are less fanatical than any other
Muhammadans in Asia, and a man of this race will
tolerate, and even take pleasure in your society in this
world, secure in the knowledge that he will not be
called upon to continue the intimacy in the next.

For himself this is in his own eyes quite right and
fitting, but in the East what is sauce for the goose is
by no means necessarily sauce for the gander. Native
women, to do them justice, though they are ready
enough to forgive their fellows for lapses from virtue
if the man be a Muhammadan, have very little mercy
on a girl who so far forgets herself as to become
entangled in an intrigue with an Infidel ; and since
standards of morality are chiefly set by Public Opinion,
it is rare for a Malay woman of birth or social stand-
ing to war against the prejudices of her people in this
respect. To the male Malay, however, it is horrible
to think that any exceptions to this rule should exist,
and in the in - rush of aliens of all sorts and con-
ditions he sees a danger which he cannot pretend to
view with any sort of equanimity.

Quite apart from any considerations of this sort, the
inability of the White Man to do his own great work

7\s unaided carries with it its only too obvious drawbacks.

Our motto is Justice, and from end to end of Asia our
name is a proverb for that virtue in its highest ex-

S) pressions ; but, alas ! our understrappers' reputation is a
byword in quite another sense. If a native can win
to the presence of the European he is satisfied that he
will get a fair hearing, and a fair unbiassed decision, y^
with which, though he may very heartily disagree' -*> s
with it, he will rest content, feeling absolutely secure

AT THE HEELS OF THE WHITE MAN 137

that no personal prejudice has influenced it by a hair's
breadth. The more sophisticated natives are not by
any means to be bluffed out of seeing and laying their
cases before the White Men, but the poor villager and
the more ignorant classes generally dare not brave the
anger of the subordinate who would keep them from
1 wearying the Tuan with many words,' and such as
these are very apt to have the rank injustice of the
native policeman, or the peon, or the punkah-wallah
palmed off upon them as the order of the White Man.
j You must remember that to natives of this class the
/ ways and works of the Europeans and their Govern-
ment are wholly o bscure and incomprehensible, and
therefore, no matter how preposterous the ruling they
obtain from the subordinate, these poor people have
nothing against which to scale it with a view to
gauging its propriety or authenticity. It is thus that
an incalculable amount of harm, the greater proportion
of which never reaches our ears, is daily done in the
name of the White Man's government.

Every one living in Asia knows all this, and, alas ! of
remedy there is none. Perhaps,

Far off in Summers that wc may not sec,

in the days that we are taught to look for, 'When
nobody works for money, and nobody works for fame,'
the White Men will do all their work for themselves,
or, more unlikely still, will have embued their Oriental
subordinates with an exalted spirit of honour and truth-
fulness, and devotion to duty even higher than their
own. But until all this comes to pass, we must worry
along as we are, and can only trust to Europeans try-

138 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

ing honestly and untiringly to learn the character, and
the requirements, and above all the language of the
/ people whose destinies are in their hands. If inter-
* preters are fTcTBe "used at all, they should be highly-paid
officials, of standing and position, but this is, perhaps,
as Utopian a proposal as any of the other impossible
changes which must take place before the White
Man's rule can cease to be marred by the many things
which now do so much to disfigure it.

In the meantime, it is worth considering how far
we are morally responsible for the evil that is daily
done in our name by those that follow at our heels.

TtiKANG BOOK'S STORY

Though my bones be old, yet my soul within

Is wrung with the old Desire j
Though my limbs wax cold, though my blood runs thin,

Yet my Heart it is still afire !
And ever I long, as the night shuts down,

For my Love that was lost to me,
And pray to the Gods of the White and the Brown
That the villain who robbed me, — that base-born clown,
Unworthy to finger the hem of her gown, —

May be blighted utterly !

Old Tukang Burok, the fashioner of wooden dagger-
hilts and sheaths, sat cross-legged on the narrow
verandah of his hut, which, perched upon the top of
the high bank, overlooked the Parit River. I squatted,
smoking, at his side, watching him at his work, and
listening to the tales of the days of long ago, which
were for ever on his lips.

Forty feet below us the red, peat-stained waters of
the Parit, banked up by the tide now flowing up the
Pahang River, crawled lazily back towards their source.
The thatched roofs of more than a score of rafts lay
under our feet, so that anything rolling off the verandah
would fall plump upon the nearest of them. Nozzling
one another, and rubbing sides with a mighty creak-

-j <-

140 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

ing, lay twice as many large native boats, moored in
the red water that they might be out of the reach of
the borers, which honeycomb the bottoms of crafts left
to ride in purer rivers. A narrow fair-way opened
between the boats and rafts, and down and up this
passed a constant stream of tiny dug-outs shooting
swiftly in and out of the numerous obstructions. The
bright colours of the Malays' garments touched the
scene here and there with little splashes of red, or
green, or yellow ; the flickering fronds of the cocoa-
nut, sugar, betel, and sago palms, and the spreading
boughs of the clustering fruit-trees, — dividing among
them almost every conceivable shade of green, —
stretched friendly hands, which nearly met, from bank
to bank, casting a grateful, sun-flecked, shifting shade
upon the ruddy water of the stream. Above, seen
through the mass of fronds, and boughs, and leaves,
the intensely pure and vividly-blue Malayan sky arched
over us j and below us the dusty browns and yellows
of the thatching, and palm-leaf roofings of boats and
rafts relieved the even redness of the river. A gentle
wind, which had run up river from the sea, playing
catch as catch can with the flowing tide, sighed
dreamily about us ; and the heavy silence was only
broken by the monotonous thud of a paddle-handle
against a boat's side, the feint bleat of a goat, the
whisper of a gust among the palm-fronds, and the
purring sound of old Tukang Burok's polishing tools.
c Tuan^ the maiden was passing fair, and the mad-
ness came upon me, and I loved her.' He held a
beautiful piece of kemuning wood between the toes of
his left foot, and sat polishing it lovingly with a mass

TtJKANG BtlROK'S STORT 141

of rough empelas leaves, held in both hands. c Thy
servant was a youth in those so long ago days, and
when it comes to the young, the madness is very hot
and burning, and the eyes will not sleep, and the belly
will not eat rice, and the liver takes to itself the like-
ness of a live ember. And, in truth, old age changes
a man but little, for his desire is as great, only his
bones are stiff, and his limbs are turned traitor, and he
sees the maidens playing the game of eye-play with
the children, who deem themselves men, shooting
their love-darts before his very face, and never casting
a glance his way, like a bone to a hungry dog, unless
they would seek his help to aid them in their courtings
and their stolen meetings. Ya Allah ! Tuan, it is
very evil to grow old, so that the eyes wax dim, and
the ears are heavy of hearing, and only the liver within
is unchanged in the fury of unsatisfied desire ! Some
there be who turn their thoughts to money, when the
maidens will have nought of them, but what is the
dink-a-clunk of the silver coins to the love-words
whispered in the ear by a fair girl, and what profits
the white face of a dollar if it be compared with the
laughing lips and eyes of a lovely maiden ! Ambui !
Tuan, it is verily hard to grow old ! I, thy servant,
sit here all the long day through, fashioning kris hilts
and dagger sheaths for the youths, that they may
make a brave show in the eyes of their loves, and the
boys and maidens pass hither and thither, and I watch
the glint in their eyes when they look one upon the
other, and Tuan^ the tears of envy rise up in these old
eyes of mine, when I know that never again will a
maiden love me !

142 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

'Therefore, Tuan, I sit here musing over the days
of long ago, and tears once again gather in my eyes,
so that I can barely see the wood to fashion it, for
ever I think of the girl I loved better than any, and
how in an evil hour she was lost to me, ere I had
known her for my wife. In truth, Tuan, my lot has
been chelaka, accursed of Fate.

c Be pleased to listen to my tale, Titan, for it is
passing strange ; though I suffered greatly, men made
a mock of me because of my calamity.

1 It was very long ago, far to the ulu (upper reaches
of the river), in the places where, as men say, the folk
call a bushel of water a deep pool, and I was wandering
through the country, for I had incurred guilt owing
to a trouble that arose concerning certain love passages
betwixt me and a maiden of the palace ; and for a while
my father deemed it prudent that I should leave the
Capital, where the King was very wroth, and hide
far away, among the little bustling, shallow streams,
where the folk are peaceful, and foolish, and ready to
do aught that they are bidden by a youth from the
Court, since they fear such people greatly. It was
here that I met the maiden, and forthwith the madness
fell upon me and I loved her.

'She was a daughter of the village-folk, and such
are ofttimes coarse, and big, and ill-favoured, tanned
black, like the bottom of a cooking-pot, with working
in the sunlight, so that no man may desire them ;
but this maiden, Tuan, was — in truth I cannot tell of
the wonder of her beauty. Even now, when I am
old, as I then was young, I feel my liver wax hot, and
my love spring up anew when I think upon her !

TtJKANG bCrOK'S ST0R2' 143

For every man in all the World there is always One
Woman. God knoweth that our loves be many, but
the others are as the shadows of the real, while She,
the Only One, is the Presence that casts the shades.
So it was with me, — a son of the Court, born to mate
with one bred gently in the towns, as I also had been,
— for my liver was crumbled to atoms at the sight of
this maid, and I sent my wedding portion to her parents,
who were well pleased that their daughter should wed
my father's son.

'At night-time I would creep beneath her house,
and listen to the music of her words, as she spake with
the woman, her mother, and all the folk who sat
within the dwelling. Through the chinks in the
wattled walls I would watch her, till I was hungry as
one who thirsts for water, and thereafter sleep would
not fall upon my eyes, so that in those days of waiting
my body grew lean and dry as a fish that men have
smoked above the leaping fire, and indeed, my liver
was broiled over fierce flames that tide, by reason of
my so great love and longing for this maiden.

c Now it was upon a day, about a Friday-span before
that upon which the Feast of the Becoming One, as
our folk name it, was to be held, that the calamity
came upon me, utterly destroying me like the blight
destroys the standing crops, making the ears empty
things and vain. It was in this wise. Listen, Tuan^
and say was ever trouble like unto mine, shame like
unto the disgrace that fell upon me, or sorrow like
unto the grief I suffered.

4 Hodoh was her name. Yes, Tuan y as thou sayest,
she was ill-named, for in truth she was beautiful, not

H4 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

ugly, as the word implies, — but it was thus that her
folk had called her when she was little, and in my ears
it was ever more lovely than the singing of the thikir
women, and that, thou knowest, is no mean music.
Hodoh chanced to be alone in her house, all her people
being gone to the fields, but she, being so near the
appointed time of her wedding, stayed at home. Thus
she only was at hand when a Sakai man, named Pa'
Ah-Gap, the Rhinoceros, came to her house out of the
jungle, praying for rice and tobacco. Now these
Sakai, as thou knowest, Tuan y be sorry animals, and
our people love not to suffer them to enter our dwell-
ings, for they are of an evil odour, dirty, and covered
with skin disease, so that from afar they seem to be
white, like a fair woman. The villagers of the interior
bear little love to the Sakai, and the women especially
cannot abide their presence near to them, so when
Hodoh beheld the face of Pa' Ah-Gap, scarred with
tattoo-marks, grimed with soot, as are always the Sakai
who sleep in the warm ashes of their fires, with hair
in locks like the ragged sago-palm yonder, she shrieked
aloud, cursing him for a filthy, unclean, mite-eaten
Sakai, and bidding him begone, crying " Hinchit !
Hinchit ! " as men do when they drive away a dog.
Pa' Ah-Gap stood still gazing upon her, rubbing his
left leg slowly against his right shin-bone, and scratch-
ing his scalp with one claw-like hand hidden in his
frowsy hair, while Hodoh abated not her railing, and
ceased not from heaping shame upon him with many
injurious words. Then he lifted up his voice and
spoke.

c " Daughter of the Gobs " (Malays), he said, " why

TtiKJNG BUROK'S STORT 145

miscallest thou thy lover ? In a little while thou
shalt seek me in the forests, imploring me to take thee
for my own, and in that day thou shalt be to me as a
wife ! " and so saying he laughed harshly as the frogs
croak in the Winter-time, while she fled into the house,
but ceased not from her railings and abuse.

'Then, when Hodoh had entered into the house,
Pa 1 Ah-Gap — Iblis has had him in Jehannam these
fifty years, but not before we too had had our will of
him — pattered a charm in the Sakai tongue, — for these
folk have great skill in magic, the gods of the ancient
days, whom we have deserted for Allah and Muhammad,
abiding with them, as once they abode with us also, —
and slowly, slowly he picked the bark of his loin-
cloth into little ragged flecks, as he stood in the open
space before the house. Then he cast seven pieces to
the North and to the South, and towards the spot where
the sun cometh to life, and towards the place where the
sun dieth ; then he shouted three times, so that the
folk in the rice-fields fell awondering what manner
of animal was crying from the jungles ; and lastly he
danced silent and alone, making a complete circuit of
the house. When these things had been accomplished
Pa' Ah-Gap slipped into the forest, making no sound
in his going, as is the manner of the jungle people.
And as he went, he let fall little pieces of his torn loin-
cloth, leaving behind him such as a man makes who
walks chewing sugar-cane, casting on the ground
the sucked pith that he has robbed of its sweet juices.

4 At the hour at which the kine go down to water,
Hodoh's parents and brethren returned from the rice-
fields, and they were told all that had happened

146 studies in brown humanity

concerning Pa' Ah-Gap, and Che' Mat, Hodoh's father,
swore that he would punish Pa' Ah-Gap for molesting
his women -kind, and that with no sparing hand.
There was much talk that night, in Hodoh's house,
and I, hiding beneath the flooring, heard all that
passed, until the hour came for extinguishing the
lights, and I went to my mat, sad at heart because I
could no longer gaze upon the beauty of my Love.

'Now it was shortly after sleep had come to all
within the house, save only Hodoh, who lay wide-eyed
and wakeful, that a strange burning came upon her,
consuming her as it were in a fire, from her head even
to her feet, and her heart, and her liver, and her spleen,
and her lungs were like unto so many red-hot embers,
scorching their way through her body, and at the
same time her speech was wholly reft from her, so
that she could by no means cry out or call any one to
her aid. Then, too, a sudden knowledge came to her
that the cool, dark jungles could alone abate the agony
of her pain, and forthwith she arose, and making no
sound, passed out of the house. The moon was at the
full, very bright and vivid, so that Hodoh found it an
easy matter to pick her way into the forest, following
the track marked by the shreds of Pa' Ah-Gap's loin-
cloth, and each one of these she gathered up lovingly,
kissing them, for the touch of the 'rough bark-cloth
against her lips seemed to cool the burning pain within
her. (All these things she told us later, as thou shalt
hear, Tuan.) Till the moonlight was wrestling with
the yellow dawn, Hodoh travelled on alone, though
our folk fear greatly to thread the jungle single-foot,
and the shreds of loin-cloth, which led her on and on,

TOKJNG BtiROK'S STORr 147

grew few and few, as she wandered ever onwards into
the Sakai people's country. The Sun had come to life
when her journey was at last accomplished, and she
came out of the jungle on to a vast Sakai clearing, and
at the door of the first hut, facing the track by which
she had come, sat Pa* Ah- Gap, — waiting for her !
He sat still, looking at her, with eyes that mocked her
and, of a sudden, she was aware of a fierce love for
this man springing up in her breast, so that, lost to
shame, she ran forward and cast herself at his feet,
praying him to take her for his wife, — even as the so-
accursed animal had foretold that she would do !
Then, as she touched him, the burning pain departed
from her, and she was utterly at peace.

' Was not the magic of this Sakai very great, and
strong, and marvellous ? For, even among our own
folk, no maiden willingly throws herself into the arms
of her lover, though she love him dearly, for women
are fashioned in such wise that they feel shame like an
overwhelming burden, crushing them utterly, so that
they may not move hand or foot. Allah, in his
wisdom, has done well so to order, for otherwise, were
there no shame among women, their passions being y
more fierce than those of men, great trouble would
ensue, and verily there is enough already, even though
shame be not quite dead in the land. But now Hodoh,
the Core of my Heart's Core, my Betrothed, my Loved
One, the sweetest and most virtuous of all the many
women I have known, ran to this so filthy and
diseased Sakai, — a wild man of the woods, an Infidel,
— entreating for his love, and kissing his soot-begrimed
hide ! Ta Allah ! Verily I cannot think upon it ! '

148 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Old Tulcang Burok paused in his narrative, and
spat disgustedly, and with emphasis, into the stream
below. His lined and wrinkled face was working
queerly with the tumult of fierce emotions which were
brought to life by the memory of his balked desire for
Hodoh, by the thought of his Love given over to a
despised jungle-dweller, by hatred, fury, and consuming
jealousy and envy. He spat once more, and then,
selecting one of his tools, he set to work to bevel a
piece of beautifully grained wood with great delicacy
and finish. The story he was telling me was one
which was evidently fraught with such painful re-
collections for the old man, that I could not find it in
my heart to urge him to finish what he had begun,
but seemingly he was glad to have for once a sym-
pathetic listener, for I could well imagine how a
Malay audience would laugh and jeer at a man who
had been robbed of his lady-love by a despised Sakai of
the jungles. Any way Tukang Burok presently
resumed his narrative.

c She whom I loved had dwelt three full days and
nights with this accursed Sakai, — may Allah blight
him utterly ! — before we learned from some of his own
folk that she was among the jungle people. Then,
Che' Mat, her father, and her brethren, and her
relatives, men knowing the use of weapons, went, and
I with them, making great speed, to the Sakai camp.
But, alas ! we found her not, though, by means of the
tuas* we persuaded the men in the huts to show to us

1 The tuas is a very simple and effective torture in considerable favour
among the Malays. The victim is placed upon the ground, with his
legs extended in front of him, and a stout piece of wood is then laid

TtiKANG BtJROK'S STORT 149

the path which Pa' Ah-Gap had taken, when he fled
into the forest, bearing my Love with him. There-
after for many weary days we followed on his trail,
now close at his heels, now losing all traces of him and
of the maiden, for she went willingly with him, the
love -spell still working in her. On that terrible
journey I ate no food, though I drank deeply at the
springs, for my throat was rough and parched, and
sleep visited me not, for the madness of love was upon
me, and I hungered for the blood of the base-born
creature who had robbed me of my heart's desire !

c For how long a time we journeyed I cannot tell
thee, for day was night to me during our marches, but
in the fulness of the appointed hour we found Pa' Ah-
Gap sleeping, with her I loved lying, clothed in the
scant garments of the Sakai women, at his side among
the warm embers of their fire. Tuan, it was with
difficulty that I could recognise her, whose every
feature was well known to me, for, in truth, I had
loved her. The vile Sakai had tattooed her sweet
face, as is the custom of these so animal-like people>
and moreover she was very thin and worn, and aged,
and grimed with the dirt of the Sakai lairs. We
caught him alive, for he slept heavily, being wearied
by his long marches, and I and one other, her brother,
crept very cautiously upon him. Also I think, Allah,
whom he had offended, for he was an Infidel while

across his knees. A second piece of wood is then passed over the first,
and under the buttocks of the sitting man. Next, using the second piece
of wood as a lever, and the first piece as the fulcrum, great pressure is
exerted, in such a manner that the thighs of the victim are crushed down
towards the ground, while the buttocks are pushed violently upwards,
causing terrible pain.

150 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the woman was of the Faith, gave him that day to our
hands, for mostly the jungle folk sleep with one ear
cocked and one eye agape.

'We bound him hand and foot, the cords of rattan
eating into his flesh as this chisel eats into the kemun-
ing wood, so that he screamed aloud with the pain ;
and she who had been Hodoh fought and bit at us,
like a wild-cat newly caught in the woods, so that she
too we were forced to bind, but gently, with the cloth
of our sarongs, doing her no hurt. Then we bore
them back to our village, whence Hodoh had fled that
night, and thereafter we put Pa* Ah-Gap to the torture
of the bamboo.'

4 What is that ? ' I asked.

Tukang Burok smiled grimly, his old eyes lighting
up with a thrill of pleasurable recollection.

c It is not fitting, Tuan y that I should tell thee much
concerning it,' he replied. c There be certain methods
by means of which the quick-growing shoot of the
bamboo can be taught to grow into a man's flesh,
causing him such agony as even the Shetans in Jehan-
nam have scarce dreamed of. When first we bound
him to the seat on which he was to die, he glared upon
us out of angry eyes, saying no word, and I was sorry
that he did not plead for mercy, that I might mock
him and refuse him ; later he prayed to be spared till I,
even I, was nearly satisfied, watching his pain, long-
drawn, slow, and very keen ; later again and he implored
for death, as a lover entreats his mistress to give him
her love ; then for a space he went mad, throwing his
body from side to side, so far as the cords which bound
him made possible, and again I was angry, and sad

TtiKANG BtJROK'S STORT 151

withal, for when the madness comes to a man he no
longer feels, as I had a mind that that man should feel,
even to the very brink of the hour in which Death
came to set him free. Tuan, for three days the life
endured within him, and for all that time I sat beside
him, mocking him when his ears could hear, and his
brain could understand, and praying to Allah that his
agony might endure for ever.

c In the hour that he died, Hodoh came back to us
out of the enchantment which had held her captive,
for the spell laid upon her was broken j but her memory
held the recollection of all that had befallen her, so that
she was wellnigh distraught with shame. Also her
body was weakened with the life in the jungle, and
she was racked with fever and many aches and pains,
and, so she said, the burning of her skin was that
which had been laid upon her by Pa* Ah-Gap that even-
ing when she miscalled him. In a fortnight my Love
was dead j and I was left here mourning for all my days
over the loss of the sweetest maiden born of woman,
she for whom above all others my soul has been con-
sumed with a wild fire of desire, which the years have
never quenched ! And, alas ! alas ! how bitter is
the thought that she was wasted upon a Sakai dog, —
the vilest of our kind ! Wherefore, Titan, when, as
occasion requires, thou prayest to thy Christian God,
bid Him join with Allah in the utter blighting and
destruction of the soul of Pa' Ah-Gap, the Sakai ! '

ON MALAYAN RIVERS.

Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre with forest,
Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river j
Night after night, by their blazing fires encamped on its borders.
Now through rushing chutes, among green islands where plumelike
Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept with the current.

Evangeline.

In the Jungles of the Peninsula, where the soil
under foot is a rich, black loam, composed of decayed
vegetation, and the damp earth is littered with brown
and sodden leaves, newly shed, or partially decomposed,
one may often chance upon a pale, ghost-lilce object,
white or gray in colour, and delicately fine in its texture
as a piece of fairy lace. This is the complete skeleton
of a giant leaf, which once was fair, and green, and
sappy, but now has rotted away, little by little, until
nothing remains save the midrib, from which the spines
branch off, and a mazy network of tiny veins.

If you could strip any river basin, in the Peninsula,
of its forests, and could then lay bare its water-system,
you would find that it presented, on a gigantic scale,
an appearance very similar to that of the skeleton leaf.
The main river would represent the midrib ; the
principal tributaries falling into it would supply the

ON MALAYAN RIVERS 153

place of the branching spines ; and the myriad tiny
streams and rivulets, which babble and trickle through
the jungles, or worm their way, slowly and painfully,
through the low-lying tracts of swampy country, would
be the numberless delicate veins of the leaf. All the
spaces and interstices, which in the skeleton are found
between midrib and spine, and spine and vein, are, in
the river basin, wide tracts of forest-clad country,
intersected, and cut up, across, and through and
through, by the rivers and streams of the most lavish
water-system in the world.

The dense jungles present a barrier which has
very effectually resisted the encroachments of primitive
men. In the valleys of the large rivers, the Malay
villages cluster along the banks, and the rice-fields
spread behind the groves of palm and fruit trees, but
half a mile inland, the forest shuts down around the
cultivated patches, like a wall about a kitchen-garden.
Up-country, where the rivers are smaller, man has won
an even more insecure foothold, and the tiny plots of
tilled land peep from out of the masses of jungle that
surround them like a bird from out of a field of
standing rice. Further up river still, you will find the
camps of the Sakai and Sumang, but even these forest-
dwelling people make their homes on the edges of the
streams, and thread their way through the jungles, in
which they roam, by wading up and down the water-
courses. Thus, it is not too much to say that only an
insignificant fraction of the Peninsula has ever been
trodden by the foot of man in all the long days since
this old world was young. There are thousands of
miles of river, in the Peninsula, whose banks have

154 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

never even been camped upon by human beings, and,
in country which is comparatively thickly populated,
the vast tracts of jungle, lying between river and river,
and between stream and stream, are as unexplored and
untrodden as are the distant polar regions of the South.
Thus it comes to pass, that one who would here study
native life must learn his lessons, and seek his know-
ledge, on the banks of the rivers, and upon the water-
ways of the Malay Peninsula.

On the West Coast, where the roads and railways
of the White Men have partially annihilated distanc e,
and have made travelling and transport easy, even
through the densest jungle, the waterways are fast
becoming deserted. The enterprising Chinese hawker
still makes his way from village to village, in his
patched and rotting sampan, for the people on the river
banks need dried sea-fish, sugar, that is more than half
sand, and salt, that is three-parts dirt. Also little bits
of jungle produce that have escaped duty may be
bought and smuggled, if a man works carefully and
with cunning. Now and again, a half-empty boat
sags and lolls adown the long reaches, or an old-world
Chief, who prefers the cool recesses of his prdhu to the
heat and dust of a railway carriage, is punted up stream
by half a dozen straining boatmen. For the rest, the
river is no longer alive with crafts, as it was in the
days of old, and the sleepy villager, whose patient eyes
watch life indolently from the water's brink, wonders
why the land has fallen to sleep since the coming of
the noisy, energetic WhitT*Klen.

But in Pahang, Trengganu, and Kelantan, where
men still punt and paddle and wade, as of old, the rivers

ON MALAYAN RIVERS 155

are the chief, if not the only highways, and, sitting in
the shade of the palm-trees on the bank, a man may
watch all the world gliding to and fro. There he may
see the King's boat — gay with the bright silks of
swaggering youths and nobles, with men sitting on the
palm-leaf roofing, and dangling their legs at the bow,
to mark that their Master is aboard — steam past him,
with its waving flag, amid a wild tumult of drums and
yells. There he may see the heavily-laden craft,
banked high with freight to the very bow, propelled
up river by a dozen punters, whose clattering poles
drip streams of sun-steeped water ; or the yellow face
of a Chinese trader, peering from under the shelter at
the stern, shows for a moment as a trading boat glides
by. As he sits watching, the villager sees the tiny
dug-out, bearing the wrinkled midwives, paddled down-
stream by a sweating man, who works as he has never
worked before, that relief and aid may come speedily to
the woman he holds dear. Or, amid the rhythmical
thud of the drums, the droning of verses from the
Kuran, and wild bursts of the sorak^ another sampan^
bright with gorgeous silks and glittering with tinsel,
passes by, bearing the bridegroom and his relations to
the hut where the little frightened bride awaits their
coming. Or -perhaps, when the heavens are bright,
lying there stark in his graveclothes, carefully covered
from head to foot, and surrounded by a cluster of sad-
faced relations, who shield his head lovingly from the
fierce sun's rays, another villager may be seen, gliding
gently towards the little, shady graveyard, making his
last journey on the bosom of the river by which his
days have been spent. The birth, the marriage, the

156 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

death, all the comings and the goings, all the sorrows
and the labour, and the rest, may be seen hinted at or
exemplified, if a man watch long enough on the banks
of a Malayan river ; for the running water, which
bears them to and fro, enters more closely into the
everyday life of the people, than do any of the other
natural objects with which the Malays are surrounded.
The large river boats, which ply on the rivers of
Kelantan, Trcngganu, and Pahang, are of different
builds, each one of which is in some measure peculiar
to the State in which it is used. In Kelantan the
favourite craft is one which, for some obscure reason,
is called by the natives kcpala belalang — or the grass-
hopper's head. Needless to say, it resembles anything
in the world more closely than it does the head of any
known insect. It is long and narrow, with a short
tilted punting-platform at the bow, and the cabin
consists of a bark or wooden erection, like a low,
square tunnel. The decking is sunk below the water-
level, so that the occupants of the cabin sit or lie in a
deep hollow with only an inch of bamboo flooring
between them and the boat's bottom. If the calking
be sound, this is cool and fairly comfortable — though a
man might as well lie in his coffin for all he can see
of the world around him — but, if the boat leaks, as it
usually does, this arrangement means wet bedding, and
thereafter lumbago and rheumatism. The long narrow
tunnel has no windows, and the only means of egress
or entrance is by the open space at each end of the cabin.
Malays of other States, who do not love the Kelantan
people, say that this form of boat is the only one which
can be used in their country, because a window would

ON MALAYAN RIVERS 157

enable thieves to possess themselves of the entire
property of the occupant of the cabin with too great
ease and convenience. It is due to the people of
Kelantan, however, that I should state that their
ingenuity is not baffled by such a trifle as the absence
of windows, for two young Saiyids, whom I once sent
from the interior to Kota Bharu — the King's capital
— had most of their raiment removed from between
them, as they lay sleeping on board one of these boats,
during the quiet night-time. This, when they awoke,
seemed to them to be almost as miraculous as it was
annoying, for they would certainly have been roused
had the thief entered the boat, nor was the mystery
explained until they found that one of their own boat-
poles had been fashioned into a hook, while they slept,
and that the thief had successfully fished for their
property, with this cunning instrument, over their
recumbent bodies. Fortunately, however, they had
been provided with a professional thief by the courtesy
and forethought of my good friend Dato* Lela Derja,
and he quickly restored their missing property, by the
simple expedient of robbing the original thief, who
was now lapped in peaceful slumber. For such is the
custom of the land.

The boat-poles used in Kelantan are furnished with
large crutch -handles, and, when the punters have
walked up the steep incline of the forward platform,
and have found bottom with their poles, they suddenly
double up their bodies, from the waist, and throw the
whole of their weight on to the crutch, which they
wedge into the hollow of their shoulders. They
rarely touch their poles with their hands, during this

158 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

part of the operation, and their arms wave about, claw-
ing the air aimlessly, as the punters step slowly down
the incline, doing all the pushing with their shoulders,
and deriving the power from the weight of their great,
fleshy bodies. They give a melancholy, discordant,
inarticulate howl each time that they take the strain,
and, with their bent backs, quivering legs, and groping
arms, they present the appearance of some strange
quadrupeds, impaled upon spears, vainly striving to
light their way to the earth on which their forefeet
cannot win a grip.

In the Trengganu Valley — which in some ways is
one of the most curious places in the Peninsula — the
river boats are inferior to those found elsewhere.
This is to be explained by the fact that the great
Trengganu River is only navigable for fifty miles from
its mouth, and this waterway is therefore of less
importance to the natives than are most of the wide
rivers of the East Coast. In 1895, only some five
hundred Malays were living in the broad tracts of
country that lie above the Kelemang Falls. The
rest of the population of the Trengganu Valley was
wedged into the space between the rapids and the sea.
To this is mainly attributable the great ingenuity and
industry of the Trengganu Malays, for, in a land
where men are very thick upon the ground, a lack of
these qualities will surely result in a want of anything
to eat. The banks of the Trengganu, from Kele-
mang to the mouth, are cultivated and inhabited, as
are only a very few regions in the Peninsula. No
produce of a bulky nature can be brought from the
interior, for the slender footpath, which runs round

ON MALAYAN RIVERS 159

the Falls, is the only means of communication, and all
things must be carried on men's shoulders. There-
fore, such things as bamboos, from which the walls,
and flooring of houses, and the fences round the stand-
ing crops, are constructed, must be planted by the
people who need them, since there is no possibility of
cutting them in the neighbouring jungles, as may be
done in more comfortable lands. Accordingly there
are vast areas under cultivation, and a man may travel
on foot from Kelemang to Kuala Trengganu without
once leaving the string of villages that line the bank.

There is one form of boat, however, which is to be
met on the Trengganu River, that would make a
strangexiaacy that this valley, which was never visited
by White Men until 1895, had long been under the
influence of Europeans. Clinker-built boats, beauti-
fully fashioned from Siamese teak, and constructed
with a finish and a grace of line which excel anything
that the dockyards of Singapore can produce, look
somewhat incongruous on the rivers of an Independent
Malay State ; and but for the palms upon the banks,
and the paddles with which the gaily dressed natives
propel these boats in lieu of oars, one might almost
fancy one's self once more upon the brown waters
around Chertsey.

But it is in Pahang, where the current of the river
is stronger than that of any other on the East Coast,
and where a boat may travel up stream two hundred
and twenty miles from the mouth without let or
hindrance, that the large river-craft approaches most
nearly to perfection. The best constructed boats are
nearly eight fathoms long, and the poling platform

160 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

occupies much space forward, so as to give the punters
plenty of room as they step aft, leaning heavily on
their poles. At the bow and the stern, a square sheet
of meshed woodwork is fixed in such a manner as to
give the deck of the boat an almost rectangular surface,
without diminishing the speed-power by widening her
lines. The cabins are usually two in number — the
kurong or main apartment, and kurong anak or after
cabin. They are roofed in with thatch, overlaid with
sheets of dried mingkuang leaves, kept firmly in place
by long lathes of split bamboo, lashed securely with
rattan. The line of the roof forms a bold, sweeping
curve, from the peak at the extreme stern to the
middle of the boat. There is a slight flattening of
this curve near the centre, and an even slighter rise
near the forward end of the cabin ; the effect being
exceedingly graceful, the more so since the long sloping
line is broken by a tiny, thatched perch, in which the
steersman has his seat.

The Pahang Malay punts with an air, a swagger, —
as he does everything, — and the clatter and the clash
of the poles, the single recurring thud against the side,
which results from the excellent time the men keep, the
loud complaining creak of the rudder-rod, as the boat
lurches along up stream, make a lilting, rhythmic
cadence not unpleasant to listen to. And descending
the river, also, when punting-poles are laid aside, and
the men grasp their paddles, the splash and the beat of
the even strokes, the song of the steersman in his perch,
and the crashing chorus of the crew, combined with
the cool current of air which the pace of the gliding
boat sends rushing through the cabin, make as soothing

ON MALAYAN RIVERS 161

and lazy a lullaby as a man need desire to listen to.
The boatmen take a pride in displaying their skill in
all kinds of c fancy ' paddling, which, while it has a
pretty and graceful effect, serves also to ease their
muscles by employing them in a constantly changing
motion. The bow paddler sets the stroke ; first, one
long sweep of the blade, quickly followed by three
short ones ; or later, three long strokes with a short
one in between. There are hundreds of combinations
of long and short, each of which has its own well-
known name in the vernacular, and a properly trained
crew will travel all day long without rowing in precisely
the same manner for half an hour together. It is
marvellous how long a time Malays will sit at their
paddles, without ever pausing in their rowing, and yet
experience no especial fatigue or exhaustion. I re-
member, on one occasion, in 1894, setting a crew of
five- and -twenty men to paddle down river at four
o'clock in the morning. They had never worked with
me before, they were not a picked crowd, and they were
not men who were accustomed to row together. Yet
these Malays paddled down river to Pgkan, a distance
of a hundred miles, in twenty-six hours. They never
quitted their work all that long and weary time except
twice, when half their number ate rice while the other
half continued rowing. Once in an hour, or so, they
would shift from one side of the boat to the other ;
but that was all the relief that they sought for their
aching limbs. The time in which we did the journey
was not particularly good, for the river chanced to be
somewhat shrunken by drought, and we frequently
ran aground. During the night, which was intensely

162 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

dark, we more than once found ourselves straying from
the main stream into a backwater, or cul de sac, and so
had to paddle up river again, the way we had come,
with all the weary work to do once more. Yet, in
spite of all these trials to body and temper, no word of
complaint, no whispered murmur of remonstrance, came
from the men at the paddles. That they suffered to
some extent I do not doubt, for I, who was awake all
night to see that they kept at it, was dropping with
fatigue long before the dawn showed grayly in the East.
Towards morning, their sorak grew very thin and
weedy and faint, and their eyes were dull and heavy,
but this did not prevent them from making half a
dozen spurts in the last three or four miles. To
appreciate to the full the achievement of these men,
you must realise what paddling is like. Personally I
know of no more tiring occupation. The rower sits
cross-legged on the hard decking of the boat, with
nothing to support his back, and with nothing in the
nature of a stretcher against which to gain a purchase
for his feet. The cross-piece at the top of the paddle
shaft is gripped in one hand, the other holding the
shaft firmly an inch or two above its point of junction
with the blade. Then the body of the rower is bent
forward from the hips, the arms extended to their full
length, as the paddle-blade takes the water. The arm
which is uppermost is held rather stiffly, the whole
strain of the stroke being taken by the hand and arm
that grips the paddle near the base of the blade. When
this motion has been repeated half a dozen times the
lower arm begins to complain, and presently its fellow
joins in the protest. Continue paddling for an hour

ON MALAYAN RIYERS 163

or two, and not only your arms, but your shoulders,
your back, your legs, almost every muscle in your
body, will begin to ache as they have never ached
before, and, though practice is half the battle, you may
thus come by a sound working knowledge of what the
sensations of a man must be who has laboured for
more than five-and-twenty hours at the paddles.
After this, it is probable that you will hesitate to join'!
in the loud-mouthed chorus of those who tell you that V
the Malays are the laziest people that inhabit God's^J^
Earth.

Those people who, nowadays, rush through Perak
and Selangor in railway carriages can have but a poor
conception of what a lovely land it is through which
they are hurrying. The narrow lines, cut through
the forest, are only broken, here and there, by patches
of coffee-gardens, and other ranker cultivation. Here,
there is nothing really distinctive of the Peninsula, and
if you would see the country in its full glory and
beauty, you must still keep to the river routes, which
are the highways proper to the Land of the Malays.
Travelling up and down the Peninsula, for a dozen
years and more, one chances upon so many lovely
scenes that it is not easy to decide which among them
all is the most good to look upon. A hundred spots
come before my mind's eye as, in spirit, I pass once
more up and down the streams I love best ; but just
as, among a collection of beautiful pictures, there must
always be some which appeal to one more strongly
than do the others, so, in this galaxy of Malayan
scenes, I have my favourites. One is very far away,
on a river called the Pgrtang, a tiny stream of the

164 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

interior, that falls into the Tekai, which falls into
the Tembeling, which falls into the Pahang, which
flows into the China Sea. The reach of river is
not wide, but it is very long for an up-country
stream, flowing, straight as an arrow, for a dis-
tance of nearly a mile. The bed of this river is
shallow, its water running riot down long stretches of
shingle, forming a succession of miniature rapids.
Little sun-flecked splashes of water are thrown up by
the fiery dashing of the hurrying current against the
obstructions in its path, and the whole surface of the
stream seems to dance, and glitter, and shimmer, as
you look at it. But the distinctive feature of this
reach of river, that marks it out from its fellows, is
to be looked for on its jungle-covered banks. The
shelving earth at the water's edge is lined with magni-
ficent specimens of the ngeram tree, — a jungle giant
which is probably but little known to any White
Men whose work has not chanced to take them into
the far interior of the Malay Peninsula. The peculiar
form in which these trees grow renders them specially
suitable for the river banks on which they are always
found. Their trunks, which are several yards in cir-
cumference at their base, grow erect for only a few
feet. Then they gradually trend outwards, leaning
lovingly over the stream j and, when two of these trees
grow on the opposite banks of a river facing one
another, their branches not infrequently become inter-
laced, forming a natural arch of living greenery over-
head. In this reach of the Pertang, of which I speak,
the banks from end to end are lined with ngeram trees,
and with ngeram trees only. The effect is, therefore,

ON MALAYAN RISERS 165

that of a splendid arch of foliage a mile in length, like
a long green tent spread above a line of dancing,
joyous river. Overhead, the network of graceful,
slender boughs, with their trailing wealth of gorgeous
leaves, sways gently in the faint, soft breeze that seems
to be for ever sweeping swooningly over the still
forests of the remote interior. On either hand, the
massive trunks of the ngiram trees show gray, save
where the vivid flecks of sunlight paint them a whiter
hue, and form the sides of the avenue through which
the leaping waters run. The surface of the stream
itself is alive with motion and colour. The brilliant
sunshine struggles through the heavy masses of inter-
woven boughs, and twigs, and leaves, forcing its way
amid the thick clusters of creepers and trailing orchids
with which the branches of these trees are draped,
throughout their entire length. Here, for near a mile,
there is cool, deep shade, that would almost be gloom,
were it not that the fierce Eastern sun will not suffer
himself to be altogether defeated, and still finds means
to dust and powder the running water with little
shifting flecks of light and colour, and, here and there,
to cast broad belts of glimmering brilliancy on the
surface of the stream. As you glide slowly down this
reach upon your raft, a great brown kite, disturbed by
your approach, flaps heavily away from you, between
the long avenue of the ngiram trees ; a brilliantly
painted butterfly catches your eye, a tiny point of
colour quickly fading into nothingness, as it flits
adown the reach j or, perhaps, a troop of monkeys
passes scurryingly across the river, from tree to tree,
and, in a moment, is swallowed up in the forest.

166 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Your pleasure in gazing on the beauties of this scene
will not be diminished by the recollection that they
have only once before been looked upon by the eyes
of a White Man, and that the place is too far removed
from the beaten track for even the most energetic
globe-trotter to visit it, and defile it with his unappre-
ciative presence.

There is another spot on a river in Pahang that
will always have a place in my memory ; but, thoagh
a few years ago it was almost as remote from the
paths of the European as is the ngeram tree-reach to-
day, the trunk-road across the Peninsula now skirts it
closely, so that every passer-by may see it. This is
the Jcram Besu, the great rapid on the Lipis River.
At this point the waters of the Lipis, which have
hitherto meandered through a broad green valley,
dotted with nestling villages, and gay with the vivid
colouring of the standing rice, suddenly become pent,
in a narrow bed, between grim walls of granite. The
stream above the rapid runs smooth and even, growing
more oily to look upon, as it combs over, in a great
curved wave, at the head of the fall. Then, in an
instant, the gliding water is broken up into a leaping,
whirling, tearing, fighting, roaring torrent, that dashes
madly against the rocky walls that hem it in, and seem
to lash it into a frenzy of rage. The rapid is only
about thirty yards long, and the drop is probably about
half as many feet, but the volume of pent water, that
strives to force itself through this narrow channel,
makes the pace furious, and gives a strength to the
leaping flood which is altogether irresistible. The
combing wave, at the rapid's head, first dashes itself

ON MALAYAN RISERS 167

upon a prominent, outstanding wedge of rock on the
left, which the natives of the place name ' The Wall,'
and when the dangers of a capsize at this point have
been avoided, c The Toad ' is found waiting, near the
exit from the gorge, to pick up the bits. The rock
which bears this name is set in mid-stream, leaning
slightly towards the hurrying current, for the rush of
water upon this side of it, during countless ages, has
worn away the stone. This is really the only great
danger to be encountered in shooting this rapid, for the
offset of the water from the other rocks is sufficient
to prevent a man being dashed with any great violence
against them. But with 'The Frog ' this is not the
case. The whole run of the current tends to drive a
man into the hollow in the rock, and once there, with
the weight of that mighty torrent to keep him in place,
he has but a poor chance of ever getting out again.
Old Khatib Jafar, who lives in the little village above
the rapid, and has spent all the best years of his life in
ferrying men's rafts down the fall, boasts that he has, at
different times, had every rib on his right side smashed
between the rafts and 'The Frog,' but he says that
he has always escaped being forced under it, or he
would not be there to tell of his manifold experiences.

Before long, no doubt, some energetic White Man •

will utilise the power of Jeram Bgsu for the generation \/
of electricity, and the place will be rendered unsightly
by rusty iron piping, and cunningly constructed
machinery. Then, i ncidentally, Khatib Jafar and
his brethre n wilT lose their means of liveli hood, as,
by the way^they are already doing as one of the
first effects of the new road. I fear that they will

168 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

not be greatly comforted by the recollection that
their individual loss is for the good of the greater
number, or by the thought that they may' in future
earn their rice and fish in a manner that carries with
it less risk than did their former occupation.

There is yet another place upon the banks of a
Malay river, — in Trcngganu, this time, — of which
I shall always retain a grateful recollection. At the
foot of the Kelcmang Falls, a little stream flows into
the wide Trcngganu River on its left bank. It comes
straight down from the hills, which, at this point, rise
almost precipitously from within a few yards of the
river's edge. They mount up skywards, in a series of
steep ascents, and on the summit of the first of these
there stands a very ancient grave, in which, tradition
says, there repose the mouldering bones of a hermit of
old time, who dwelt here in solitude, during his days
of life, and elected to lie here through the ages, awaiting
his summons before the Judgment Seat. The still forest
spreads around him, the note of bird, and beast, and
insect comes to lull him in his long slumbers, and the
monotonous sound of the neighbouring waterfall cries
4 Hush ! * to the noisy world. Once in a long while
the Sultan of Trcngganu comes hither, with all his
Court, to do honour to the dead Sage ; now and again,
villagers visit the spot in pursuance of some vow, made
in their hour of need; but, for the rest, the place where
the hermit lies is undisturbed by the passing to and fro
of man.

From the natural terrace in the hill, upon which
the grave stands, the little stream of which I speak
falls in a series of cataracts to the valley below. Its

ON MALAYAN RISERS 169

source must be at a spot far up the mountain side,
for its waters, when they reach the plain, are as fresh
and cold as those of a highland stream in Scot-
land. They come dashing and leaping along, from
point to point, down the steep hillside, and fall in a
body upon the broad, smooth surface of an immense
granite boulder, which lies at the base of the rising
land.

I, and the Pahang Malays who were my companions,
reached this place one morning, just when the dew had
dried, after travelling without rest, during all the long
hours that should have been passed in sleep. We were
weary and tired to the last degree, and our eyes had
that curious feverish, burning sensation in their sockets,
which ever comes to one who looks out at the blazing
tropic sunshine after a sleepless night. We halted to
cook our rice, and we were all, I think, pretty sorry
for ourselves. I longed for champagne, even at that
early hour in the morning, or for any pick-me-up to
make me feel equal to the long journey which we
should have to make between that hour and the dawn
of the next day. My Malays, too, squatted about
disconsolately by the river, where they were washing
their rice, and by the fires, upon which the cooking-
pots were humming. One or two of their number
went off into the jungle, that lay round and about
us, to search for fuel, and presently one of them re-
turned, and said that he had found a capital place for
a bath. He looked so fresh and comfortable, as he stood
there with the beads of water still glistening in his hair,
that several of our people went in search of the place of
which he spoke. They all came back in tearing spirits,

i7o STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

loudly extolling the marvels of the bath, and at last I,
too, went to try what it was like.

When I arrived, I found two or three of my people
lying sprawling on the large smooth boulder at the foot
of the fall, and, when they presently made room for me,
I crept cautiously on to the great stone upon which the
stream of water from above was thudding heavily. The
fall was about twenty feet in height, and the first blow
of the icy water laid me flat upon the rock, and held
me there breathless. It was like the most splendid
combination of cold shower-bath and vigorous massage
imaginable, and though it was not to be borne for
more than a minute or two at a time, I stretched
myself on the boulder, again and again, until my skin
was turned to goose-flesh. Never was there a more
splendid tonic, and though we did not rest again till
the Eastern sky waxed red next morning, I, for one,
felt no more fatigue of mind or body, after that mar-
vellous bath.

When once a man falls a-thinking of the thousand
scenes in the Malay Peninsula, any one of which it is
a keen delight to look upon, it is difficult to quit the
subject, and to make an end of vain attempts to picture
to others some few of the things which have filled him
with a pleasure that was an ample reward for the hard-
ships of many a long and arduous journey. But the
end must come, sooner or later, and perhaps, the sooner
the better, for how can one hope to paint in words,
things that, even as one looked upon them, seem too
full of varied beauty for the sight to really comprehend
them ? On Malayan rivers, at any rate, the eye is
abundantly filled with seeing.

A MALAY OTHELLO

Downward, in a flash, I swing,

Hissing like a snake,
Make the bones about me ring,

Splinter, chip, and break !
See the blood leap up to meet

My hungry lover's kiss,
Ho ! Our meeting it most sweet, —

I was born for this !

See the rent skin gape and start !

Hear the spent lungs gasp !
See me red in every part,

Handle, blade, and hasp !
Hear the dying moan his moan !

Hear me swish and hough !
Rip through flesh, and shriek through bone !

I ne'er lived till now !

The Song of the Spear.

Up country, in the remote interior, where the words
and manners of men are coarse and unseemly, honey
is called ayer lebah, — which means c bees' water,' —
but in more civilised parts of the Peninsula, where
people pride themselves upon their exceeding culture
and gentility, the vernacular term in use is madu. /
Malays, however, love to make a word do double duty, v
and, if possible, force it to bear at least one obscure

172 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMJNI7T

and recondite meaning, in addition to its simple and
obvious one. This it is which tends to make their
beautiful, liquid tongue such a network of traps and
pitfalls for the stranger ; and, verily, in speaking the
Malay Language, a little knowledge is an excessively
dangerous thing.

1 Hamba Tuan ber-madu y — Thy servant possesses
honey ! * cries the indignant and infuriated native.

The European finds it difficult to conceive why
the possession of honey should excite its owner to such
a wild state of emotion ; but he has often found
natives strange and unaccountable, and, perhaps, has
never made any real effort to understand them, so he
merely says : —

c Bring the said honey hither that I may eat there-
of, for I love it greatly ! ' and everybody present,
with the exception of the first speaker, titters furtively.

For madu^ in this instance, — though there is
nothing in the wide World to show it, — has no con-
nection whatever with bees, or with any of their
works. Instead it means the lover of a man's wife, or
the rival of a woman in her man's affections ; and to
those who use it, the fact has nothing sweet about it,
such as its original meaning would lead you to expect.

But the term is also applied to the injured husband.
He is the ' Old Honey,' while his rival is ' Honey
the Young,' and the only respectable and self-respect-
ing thing for the former to do when he becomes aware
of the existence of the latter, is, according to Malay
ideas, to slay him as quickly as may be, and to there-
after send the faithless wife shrieking at his heels into
the Land of Shadows. To kill one and not the other,

A MALAY OTHELLO 173

is murder, and punishable as such, in the cross-eyed,
squinting vision of Malay Law and Custom. To
slaughter both offenders, no matter with what de-
liberation and precautions, is a meritorious deed deser-
ving praise, the honour of men, and the love of other
fair women to crown the slayer's happiness.

In the Native State of Pahang, before the White
Men came, whenever you desired to lay your hand
upon the most glaring instances of things as they
ought not to be, it was generally safe to seek for them
in the TembSling Valley. Many miles of streaming
river separate this district from PSkan, — the King's
Capital, — and an attempt to supervise the outlying
provinces of his country does not enter into the scheme
of a Malay Raja's system of government. Occasion-
ally he may learn of the existence of a man of wealth,
living in some remote village, and the royal coffers
are then not unlikely to be the richer by the amount
of the fine, which the King will inflict upon his
prosperous subject, on purely general principles. Once
in a while, some grossly exaggerated ex parte state-
ment will filter its way down stream, and swift
punishment will forthwith be meted out, for unless
the accused is a persona grata at Court, neither the
King nor his Ministers dream of troubling themselves
to hear anything which he may have to say in his
defence. This is the Malay Ruler's method of
* larnin' ' his people to be c toads ' ; and how else
should he be feared, or the treasury become stocked ?

Unfortunately, all this does but little towards
making the distant corners of the Land peaceful or

174 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

orderly, for under the Malay system of government,
the innocent suffer more frequently than the guilty,
and a ready tongue, unhampered by feckless scruples,
profits a man more than does the cleanest of consciences.
Moreover there is truth in the somewhat coarse
vernacular Proverb, which illustrates the fact that the
pupil will out-do his teacher if the latter set him an
ugly example. Therefore the District Chiefs act after
the manner of their King with trimmings and
additions.

In the Tembcling Valley, a dozen years or so ago,
things were peculiarly bad, because the nominal Chief,
Penghulu Raja, was an indolent creature, who cared
only for his women and his opium-pipe, while the large
clan of Warn — men of the royal stock — who had their
homes there, preyed unchecked upon the peasants.
When the Chief is a strong man, he is sure to quarrel
violently with the distant connections of his King, who
chance to dwell in his District ; and since he is of
more importance to his Master than they can hope to
be, their complaints meet with small encouragement
at Court. So the Wans fight him, as best they may,
and in the struggle, the peasants sometimes are in-
advertently suffered to come by their rights. 'When
the junks are in collision,* says the Malay Proverb,
'the fishes have full bellies,* and this truth, like all
the old wise -saws of the people, is constantly ex-
emplified in the everyday experiences of the natives.

The Chief of the Tgmbeling JVans^ whom I will
call Wan Teh, was an exceedingly unpleasant person.
He was rather deaf, had a harsh, discordant voice, a
wicked eye, a shifty manner, and a cruel mouth ever

A MALAY OTHELLO 175

gaping, as though seeking whom it might devour. It
was more than whispered, even in his own District,
that his courage was not of the highest quality ; and,
with the possible exception of his only son, who was
one of the most truculent young scoundrels living,
no man or woman, in all the land, had a good word or
a kind thought for him. He had one peculiar habit,
which used to annoy me excessively every time I met
him. A man, named Imam Bakar, was once slain at
Pasir Tambang, at the mouth of the Tgmbeling River.
He incautiously touched hands in greeting with a
Chief, called To' Gajah, and the latter, seizing him in
an iron grip, held him fast, while he was stabbed to
death with spears. The memory of this event was
always present in the mind of Wan Teh, and his
method of shaking hands was the result of the recol-
lection. Accordingly, whenever a hand was extended
to him in salutation, he was wont to grip it firmly by
the thumb, and his victim needed no man to tell him
that the brittle bones, so seized, were ready to break,
almost at a touch. I have seen men fence with Wan
Teh, for some seconds at a time, like wrestlers trying
for a grip, but when their hands at length met, that of
Wan Teh always held the thumb of his friend in a
steely grasp.

Such then was the man who, in 1884, slew his wife
and a reputed c Young Honey,' under circumstances of
more than ordinary atrocity.

That year the King was celebrating the marriage
of his eldest daughter with the Ruler of a neighbour-
ing State, and all the Chiefs, from one end of Pahang
to the other, were, by his orders, gathered together at

176 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the Capital. The festivities lasted for nearly a twelve-
month ; gambling of all kinds, varied by cock-fighting,
bull-matches, and top-spinning, engrossing the atten-
tion of the Court, while banquets and State Processions
served to fill up the chinks. In the vernacular, when
these Court Functions are going on, the King is said
to be 'working,' but when you come to look into tne
matter, you will find that the labour of the King is
strangely like the play of less privileged mortals.

During all the long months which are required to
make the celebration of the event complete, the King
keeps open house, to all his subjects, in the true feudal
manner. The richly spiced viands, the fat rice, the
sickening sweetmeats, which seem to be always lying
in wait for you, are cooked in the palaces, and served
without stint to the well-born guests in the Balai, or
Hall of State, and to the people crowding the sheds,
scattered up and down the King's compound. To
all appearances, he spares money as little as he econo-
mises time, but experience will teach you that even
the most generous of Malay Kings has an uncommonly
keen eye to the main chance ; and if you observe
things closely, you will presently see that, in spite of
the lavish expenditure, and the brave show, which are
designed to attract the attention of the spectators, the
months, during which the Court ceremonies last, are
to be counted as the great revenue-producing periods
of the King's reign.

In a Malay land, where all are at the mercy of a
single individual, whose early training has been care-
fully calculated to strengthen the passions, which he
has been taught to leave uncontrolled, it is expedient

A MALAY OTHELLO 177

to make unto yourself a friend of the occupant of the
Throne. The Chiefs know this, and the peasants
are accordingly ground down more thoroughly than
usual, in order that their immediate superiors may not
come to Court with empty hands. Where all bring f
gi r ts to the King, something more striking than
ordinary must be produced, if a man is to win the royal
notice; so the Chiefs vie one with another, till the
serpentine lines of tribute-bearers trail over miles of
country, as they wind through the fruit groves to the
palace of the King. So the Monarch waxes rich in
gear and coin, and the bulging storehouses hide from
his sight the faces of the plundered peasantry. Also, \
at many Malay Courts, the King takes a percentage
on every coin staked on the gambling- mats, and thus
makes a pleasant profit out of the sins of his people.

Wan Teh went to PSkan with the other Princes
and Chiefs, leaving his house in the TgmbSling, and
all that it contained, under the charge of his cousin
Wan Koming.

The King who reigns but a single day, the Malays
say, is ever a more tyrannical taskmaster than one
whose rule is permanent ; and Wan Koming set him-
self to make his hay merrily while the sun shone in
the sky above his head. He knew that whenever his
cousin returned from the Capital, he would be forth-
w'fch stripped of his garb of brief authority, so he felt
that he had no time to waste. Therefore the hapless
folk in the TSmbSling found life, for the moment,
more than usually unlovely.

Wan Koming's rule was sufficiently unpopular
with all who had the ill fortune to live under it, — if

178 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

possible, it was even more disliked than that of Wan
Teh himself, — but there was one man in the Tembeling
who found the bare sight of Wan Koming's temporary
power and greatness an insult to himself, and an out-
rage upon the District. This was Wan Beh, another
cousin of the Chief, who held very strongly the view
that he, and not Wan Koming, should have been
selected by Wan Teh to keep watch and ward over
the Tdmbeling during the absence of the latter at the
Capital. He found it impossible to resist Wan
Koming, for the latter was a strong man who had no
mind to brook interference from any man during the
term of his power, and as Wan Beh dared not slay him,
— which was of course the obvious thing to do, in
those days, to one who had earned your dislike, — he
asked himself in what manner he could most cunningly
and surely compass his downfall, and obtain authority
and sanction to deprive him of his life.

Having thought the whole matter out with con-
siderable care, Wan Beh set off for Pfckan, leaving
Wan Koming in undisturbed possession of the Tem-
beling. On his arrival at the Capital, he at once
sought out his kinsman, Wan Teh, and with many
tears, much well-assumed indignation, and a great
show of that keen shame, which was to be expected,
under the circumstances, in Wan Teh's near relative,
this Malay Iago haltingly told a lying tale of Wan
Koming, and of the manner in which he was fulfill-
ing the trust reposed in him by his absent Chief and
kinsman.

Wan Teh's principal wife, Wan Po', had been left
by her husband in Wan Koming's charge, a younger

A MALAY OTHELLO 179

and more favoured woman having been chosen to
accompany the Chief to Court ; and, at the request
of the husband, Wan Koming had taken up his
quarters in the big house at Machang Raja, which
had been given to Wan Po' for her dwelling-place.
This had been done in order that the lady's virtue and
her husband's honour might be guarded the more
securely ; for marital confidence is not a strong point
in the Malay character, and the women, in whom no
trust is placed, only consider themselves bound to be
faithful so long as the precautions taken render it
impossible for them to be otherwise.

These facts all tended to aid Wan Beh, and to give
vraisemblance to his tale. Wan Teh was such an evil
person himself that he naturally found little difficulty
in crediting the reported wickedness of his kinsfolk ;
and it must be confessed that no Malay's experience
is such as to warrant a disbelief in the extreme prob-
ability of misconduct on the part of any given man and
woman who happen to have a sufficient opportunity
for misbehaving themselves. Wan Po's husband was
therefore soon convinced of her guilt j but the one
redeeming virtue of courage, which helps to save the
pitiful character of Othello, was lacking in Wan Teh.
He had no desire to slay his Desdemona with his own
hands, and thereby to risk a rough and tumble with
his kinsman, Wan Koming, who was reputed to be a
handy man with his knife. If left to his own devices
Wan Teh would probably have contented himself with
divorcing the woman, and would have been content
to allow his wounded honour to nurse itself back into
convalescence as best it might. But Wan Beh was

180 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

determined that his Chief should not suffer the matter
to drop, and he dinned the tale of his dishonour in
Wan Teh's ears morning, noon, and night, till the
injured husband began to fear that he would be forced,
very much against his will, to fight Wan Koming for
the credit of the family. He had very little stomach
for the fray, and when, of a sudden, Wan Beh volun-
teered to do the job for him, if he would grant him
the required authority, he jumped at the offer with the
frantic eagerness of a man who sees at last a safe way
out of an uncommonly tight and unpleasant place.

So Wan Beh, armed with verbal authority from
Wan Teh, punted up the Pahang River, on his return
journey to the Tembeli ng, having very successfully
accomplished all that he had desired to effect by a
visit to the Capital. He pushed on quickly, for he
was burning to be at Wan Koming, and upon the
evening of a certain day, he tied up his boat at Labu,
a village which is situated about half a mile down
stream from Machang Raja, where Wan Po* and
Wan Koming were living.

At this place Wan Beh and his people waited till
the night had fallen ; and as the moon was rising
slowly above the long black line of jungle on the
eastern bank of the river, he began a cautious and
noiseless ascent of the last half mile of running water
that still separated him from his victims. The boat-
men poled in the manner called by the Malays tanjak,
standing still at their work, dropping their poles noise-
lessly into the water, till they felt them touch bottom,
and then propelling the boat forward against the
current by throwing the weight of their bodies on to

A MALAY OTHELLO 181

the poles. Punting in this fashion, they reached
Machang Raja in about twenty minutes.

Arrived at his destination, Wan Beh landed with
about a dozen of his followers, bidding the remainder
of his people surround the house as soon as he had
effected an entrance. Wan Po's dwelling stood by
itself in a large grove of fruit-trees, and was surrounded
on three sides by open fields, no longer under cultiva-
tion, upon which the rank lalang grass grew six feet
high. The house itself consisted of a large main
building, with a door opening from it on to a narrow
verandah, that ran along the front facing the river.
This verandah was guarded by a low balustrade of
wattled bamboo, and the stair-ladder leading from it, at
the down-river end, was the only means of entrance to
and exit from the house. In common with every other
Malay dwelling in the Peninsula, the house was raised
from the ground on piles, some five or six feet high.

Wan Beh halted his followers at a distance of a few
yards from the house, and himself, accompanied by a
youngster, named Mamat, crept cautiously forward to
the foot of the ladder. They moved as noiselessly as
they knew how, when they reached the head of the
stairway, but laths of bamboo make a flooring upon
which it is not easy to tread without sound, and the
creaking of their footsteps awoke Wan Koming.

He was sleeping at the far end of the verandah,
under a mosquito-net, and near his head stood a damar
torch guttering dimly. He was alone.

When the sound of Wan Beh's approach disturbed
him, he sat up, pulled back the bed-curtains with one
hand, and peered into the gloom, asking who was at

i8z STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

hand. The only answer was a spear-thrust from Wan
Beh, which pinned him to his mat, while Mamat ran
in, and completed the business by a dozen fierce stabs
at his twisting, writhing body.

Wan Koming died without a sound, save for a rend-
ing gulp or two, but Malays cannot slay any creature in
silence, and the angry, triumphant cries of Wan Beh
and Mamat speedily awoke those who slept within the
house. The murderers yelled defiance to the dead
body of their enemy, and dinned in ears, that had
ceased to hear for ever, the nature of the crime of
which they accused him, — a foul lie, as those who
shouted it knew full well.

Wan Po', within the house, heard their words, and in
a moment she realised that her life also was desired by the
ruffians without. Escape by the door was impossible, for
her enemies were already battering upon it, and wrestling
eagerly with its stout fastenings. There was no
other recognised means of exit, and her sole chance of
life lay in slipping through the flooring on to the
ground beneath. She seized a wood-knife, and hacked
with trembling hands at the plaited rattans, which
bound the floor-laths one to another. The house was
comparatively speaking a new one, and the bamboos
which formed the flooring were sound and hard.
The frightened women-folk, who were only com-
panions in the house, sat huddled together, too
paralysed with terror to dream of affording their
mistress the aid of which she stood so sorely in need.
And all the while, as Wan Po' fought for her life
with the bamboos, the curses and imprecations of those
who sought her blood, mingled with the heavy blows

A MALAY OTHELLO 183

under which the stout door was rapidly giving way.
In her excitement Wan Po' used her knife with little
skill, and when, at last, a hole had been made, she
strove to crush her body through it, before it was
large enough to well admit of the passage of a child.
The intensity of her fear gave unnatural strength to
her limbs, and she fought bravely with the cruel, rasp-
ing bamboos, between which she was soon tightly
wedged. The door bent inwards with the pressure
from without, creaked, groaned, and then fell from its
hinges with a mighty crash. Wan Beh and Mamat,
with half a dozen others at their heels, leaped eagerly
through the breach, and as at last Wan Po' wriggled
herself free, Wan Beh's spear-blade darted through the
gap in the flooring, above her head, and struck home on
the shoulder, near the base of the neck, the keen steel
penetrating deep into the breast.

Wan Beh and Mamat turned about, ran on to the
verandah, and thence leaped down the stair-ladder to
the ground, yelling to their fellows without not to
suffer the woman to escape. The men on guard,
however, were loth to stab a woman, so they contented
themselves with trying to head her back to the house,
when she broke cover from under it. She was sorely
wounded, and dazed with fear, so she ran despairingly
from one to another of the men, trying to flee from
all, weeping, entreating, screaming pitifully, until at
last she broke away and plunged into the lalang grass
that fringed the compound. But Wan Beh's spear-stab
had done its work, and in a moment she sank upon the
ground, and thereafter lay moaning and panting while
her life-blood ebbed from her.

1 84 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Then they lifted her up, and bore her to the great
state bed within the house, upon which they laid her.
Next they fetched the body of Wan Koming, and
placed it at her side. When all this was done, they
summoned the elders of the village, that they might
look upon the corpses, swearing lustily the while that
thus the false friend and the faithless wife had paid for
their crime, dying in their wickedness, side by side,
while sleep still held them.

After the elders had departed, unconvinced, but
wisely silent as to what was in their minds, Wan Beh
and his people set to work and rested not till they had
constructed an efficient stockade. In this they took
up their quarters, and awaited the attack of Wan Ngah
and Wan Jebah, — the brothers of the woman they had
murdered, — which, they thought, might be confidently
expected. But these IVans^ when the news reached
them, were themselves in deadly fear, so they too
built stockades, some miles away from Machang Raja ;
— and there the matter rested.

The truth concerning these doings very soon
filtered out, and before long every soul in Pahang
knew the facts of the case ; but no efforts were made
to bring the murderers to justice. The only comment
made by the King, and repeated to me by one who
heard it, was rather characteristic of a Malay Ruler.

Some five years after these events transpired, a
number of Tembeling Chieftains brought presents of
varying value to their sovereign, and Wan Teh, our
Malay Othello, was seated in the royal audience-
chamber when these gifts were being examined.

4 Hast thou brought me no yellow wood for dagger-

A MALAY OTHELLO 185

hilts, no gharu of a sweet odour, and no precious gums,
as these others have done ? ' the King inquired looking
with very little favour at Wan Teh.

The latter broke out into a torrent of voluble
protests and excuses j but he had only empty hands to
lift up in homage to the King His Master's brow
darkened.

' Have a care, Wan Teh,' he said. * It were well
for thee to bring gifts, ay, and precious gifts, to me,
for a heavy charge has been preferred against thee,
and it were wiser to give of thy substance, than, per-
chance, to lose thy life ! *

Wan Teh understood the King's meaning, and
acted, I believe, upon the advice thus given to him ;
for though the tale is told, and the men who did the
deed are still living amongst us, no action was taken
during the days before the Protection of the British
Government came to pacify the troubled land, and the
White Men always suffer bygones to be bygones, and
begin to rule a new country with a slate washed clean
of all past records of crime.

SOME NOTES AND THEORIES
CONCERNING LATAH

The Present and Past yield their secrets at last,

For we've mastered their scope and their plan ;
Moon and Sun, as they pass, must lie under our glass ;

We've measured the Earth to a span $
Each hurrying star, that we marked from afar,

We've assayed and weighed as it ran j
Round about, high and low, all Creation we know ;

But, somehow, we never know MAN !

So much has been written, of late years, by scientific
and medical men on the subject of the strange affliction
called latah y that a mere untrained observer, like
myself, who has gained such knowledge of the matter
as he may possess from living among the Malays, —
often in constant daily intercourse with latah folk, —
instead of being carefully educated in some recognised
school of pathology, cannot but experience some
feelings of diffidence, when he ventures to approach
the disputed questions of its nature and causation, and
to advance his own unscientific theories. I should
feel this in an even greater degree, were it not for the
fact, that as regards all that they have written on the
subject of <7/tf<?£-running, at any rate, the scientists

THEORIES CONCERNING LATAH 187

have, to my thinking, persistently made a radical
error from the beginning, starting with a false hypo-
thesis which has ended by landing them nowhere in
particular.

It is doubtless difficult for a medical man to always
bear in mind that a patient is a human being, in the
first instance, and a 'case* purely incidentally. Of
course there are many learned people nowadays who
hold that all crime is the result of brain trouble, but
most of them, I fancy, have not had to sit on the
bench, and thence to watch the crude, naked, ugly
motives, which quite logically prompt men to commit
crimes, peeping out of the actions of perfectly sane
people, who have kept certain objects very clearly and
steadily in view, and have worked for them slowly,
patiently, and steadfastly. The scientific theory anent
brain trouble and the causation of crime is often made
to look remarkably foolish when we see human nature
from the bench, and are able to bring thither a
tolerably sound knowledge of the inside — Us coulisses —
of native life and character. In the same way, when
one has come a great deal into personal contact with
Malays as men, the study of amok as purely a question
of pathology begins to look almost equally foolish. In
a story called c The Amok of Da to' Kaya Biji Derja,'
I have explained at some length what I believe to be
the real causes of amok-running, and I will not go
over this ground again, further than by saying that
these are to be looked for in events which tend to
produce very intelligible psychological conditions, in
the man who is affected by them, rather than in any
obscure disorders of the brain. Some may, perhaps,

188 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

say that the two are inseparable ; but this is a state-
ment which I, for one, am not prepared to accept until
far more convincing proofs of the entire dependence of
the moral nature upon physical conditions, than any at
present in our possession, have been furnished to us.
No one of course denies that physical disorders often
breed moral troubles, but the latter may result from
causes quite distinct from anything connected with
the health of the body, and, after very carefully
studying the subject, I am convinced that the typical
amok comes under this latter category.

Latah is an affliction which cannot so easily be
explained by psychology, and undoubtedly it is a
matter which must largely be treated as a question of
pathology. None the less, it is possible that it too
may have its psychological side, which may require to
be examined and analysed if the nature of the affliction
is to be thoroughly understood.

Everybody who is interested in the Malay Penin-
sula has heard of ldtah y and even those amongst us
who have not gone very far afield are, many of them,
familiar with its manifestations. There are other
some, however, who may possibly never have seen
any one who is afflicted in this way, and for their
benefit, and as illustrations, which I shall need to point
the remarks I have to make on the subject, I will
describe one or two cases which have come under my
own notice, and which I have had opportunities of
watching closely, and for extended periods of time.
Before doing so, however, there are a few general
remarks on the subject which will be necessary for

THEORIES CONCERNING LATAH 189

the complete understanding of what follows, by those
who have no previous experience of latah and latah
people.

Latah is an affliction, a disease, one hardly knows
what name to give it,' which causes certain men and
women to lose their self-control, for longer or shorter
periods, as the case may be, whenever they are startled,
or receive any sudden shock. While in this condition
they appear to be unable to realise their own identity,
or to employ any but imitative faculties, though they
very frequently, nay, almost invariably, make use of
villainously bad language, without any one prompting
them to do sofj Any person who chances to attract
their attention, at such times, can make them do any
action by simply feigning to do it himself by a gesture.
A complete stranger, by startling a latah man or
woman, can induce the condition, of which I speak,
accidentally, and without exercising any effort of will.
This should be borne in mind, for though latah
resembles hypnotic suggestion in many respects, it
differs from it in the important respect that it in no
way depends upon an original voluntary surrender of
the will-power.

The most typical case of latah y within my ex-
perience, was that of a SSlangor Malay named Sat,
who, in 1887 and 1888, cooked the rice for me, and
for the twenty or thirty Malays who were then living
in my house at Pgkan. He was a great, big, heavy-
featured, large -boned, clumsily -built fellow, very
stolid, very stupid, very phlegmatic, the last person
in the world, one would have thought, to be the
victim of any nervous disorder. To the lay mind

190 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

any abnormal degree of sensitiveness should be accom-
panied by a somewhat etherial physique, a delicate
skin, a blue-veined forehead, tiny hands and feet, and a
highly strung organisation/ To none of these things
could poor Sat lay any sort of claim, and though no
doubt Doctors will say that these are by no means
invariable accompaniments of a highly nervous tempera-
ment, I must own that Sat looked vastly improbable as
the possessor of anything so rarefied. All the other
Malays in my household were accustomed to put upon
Sat most unmercifully, making him do almost the
whole of the work that should rightly have been
shared between them all. Sat never appeared to resent
this arrangement, and he never made any complaint to
me then, or at any later time, of the manner in which
his fellows treated him. He spent almost the whole
of his day in the great ramshackle room, built out
over the river on supporting piles of nibong y in which
the large wooden box filled with baked clay, which
served as our simple cooking - range, occupied the
chief place in the centre of the lath floor. When the
others were most noisy, Sat was still silent. When
some of my men boasted of the great deeds they had
performed in the old days in Selangor, Sat would
listen obediently to the thrice-told tales, stolidly but
without excitement. Most of the other men had
their own particular chums, but Sat was always solitary,
and he never appeared to have any ideas, in that great
bullet head of his, which he desired to exchange with
his neighbours.

He had been an inmate of my hut for nearly a year
before any one discovered that he was latah. The fact

THEORIES CONCERNING LATAH 191

came to light quite accidentally, Sat being startled out of
his self-possession by the sudden capsizing of a cooking-
pot over which he was watching. A boy, who chanced
to be alone in the cook-room with Sat, made an in-
stinctive grab at the fallen rice-pot, and in an instant
Sat's hand was in the fire, grasping the burning-hot
metal. He withdrew his flayed fingers quickly, as the
pin brought to him consciousness of what he had done,
and he carried them at once to his head, — that queer,
groping, scratching motion, which is an invariable
accompaniment of latah^ — and the boy at his side
needed no man to tell him that Sat was a victim
to that extraordinary affliction. With the wanton
cruelty and mischief of his age, the boy once more
made a feint at the smoking rice-pot, and again Sat's
fingers glued themselves, for a moment, to the scalding
metal, and then returned aimlessly to his head. I do
not know how many times this was repeated, but Sat's
fingers were in a terribly lacerated condition when, at
last, some one chanced to enter the cook-room, and
interfered to prevent the continuation of Sat's torture.
After that, though I did all I could to protect him from
molestation, Sat was never, I fancy, left in peace for
long by the other men of my household. Gradually,
in the course of a couple of months or so, this man,
who for nearly a year had shown no signs of being the
victim of any nervous disorder, was reduced to a really
pitiable condition. The occasional latah seizures,
which were at first induced by the persecutions of
his fellows, ceased to be abnormal phases, and became
the chronic condition of his mind. If one spoke to
him, with no matter how much gentleness, he would

192 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

repeat the words addressed to him over and over again,
aimlessly, unintelligently, without apparently com-
prehending their meaning, and that wandering,
groping hand of his would steal to his head, and
scratch helplessly at his close- cropped hair. 'Sat!
Listen, Sat ! ' I would say to him, as quietly and
reassuringly as I knew how, 'Listen, no man is
worrying thee. Try to listen to what I say to
thee.' ' Listen to what I say to thee ! * Sat would
make answer, and then very low, in a whisper under
his breath, ' Listen, listen, listen, listen, listen, what I
say to thee.'

I instituted a fine for any one who was found
annoying Sat, but it was almost impossible to get a
conviction, for the unfortunate victim could never say
who the man was who had teased him into a more than
usually severe paroxysm of latah.

It was about this time that a number of other
people in my household began to develop signs of
the affliction. I must not be understood as suggesting
that they became infected with latah^ for on inquiry I
found that they had one and all been subject to
occasional seizures, when anything chanced to startle
them badly, long before they joined my people, but the
presence of so complete a slave to the affliction as poor
Sat seemed to cause them to lose the control which
they had hitherto contrived to exercise over themselves.
One of the older men among my people, — Pa' Chim, we
called him, — a Malay of birth, and of some standing
with his fellows, came to me and begged that I would
see that no one did anything to give him a sudden
start, since, he said, only a very little was needed to

THEORIES CONCERNING LATAH 193

make him latah also. Yet this man neither then nor
later showed any signs of the affliction. He probably
exercised a considerable amount of self-control, but I
always knew that in a moment I could have broken
through his guard, and have startled him into as com-
plete a seizure of latah as those of which Sat was the
victim.

One day a curious thing happened, which I will
relate as it occurred, though I only witnessed the end
of the incident. A Trengganu Malay, who had a cousin
among my people, came in to visit his relative, and
chanced to find no one but Sat in the house. The latter
invited the Trengganu man to partake of sirihj and they
squatted down on the pentas y or raised eating platform,
in the centre of the house, with the sirih-box between
them. The villainous small boy who had first discovered
Sat's weakness, was playing about in the room, and in
some unholy way he had learned that the Trengganu
visitor was also a latah subject. He seized a long rattan,
which I think was kept in the room by one of the older
men for his occasional correction, and smote the sirih-
box, as it lay between the two betel-chewers, making the
wooden covering resound with the smart blow. The
sudden and unexpected noise at once deprived both
men of all power of self-restraint. Each gave a sharp
cry, and a 'jump,' to use the colloquial expression, and,
since there was nothing to distract their attention from
one another, they fell to imitating each the other's
gestures. For nearly half an hour, so far as I could
judge from what I learned later, these two men sat
opposite to one another, gesticulating wildly and aim-
lessly, using the most filthy language, and rocking

194 STVDIES IN BROWN HVMAN1TY

their bodies to and fro. They never took their eyes
off one another for sufficient time for the strange
influence to be broken, and, at length, utterly worn
out and exhausted, first Sat, and then the Trengganu
man fell over, on the platform, in fits, foaming horribly
at the mouth with thin white flakes of foam. Men
came running to me for help, many having witnessed
the end of this strange scene, and when I had doctored
Sat and his companion back to consciousness, I tried
to ascertain from them how they had come to fall
victims to this seizure. They could tell me nothing,
however, for they only remembered that before their
trouble came upon them they had been chewing betel-
nut. The matter was sifted out, none the less, and
the small boy who had been the cause of the trouble
again made the acquaintance of the piece of rattan,
and to judge by his cries, found the interview an
unusually painful one.

I have known so many cases of Idtah y during the
years that I have spent wandering up and down the
Peninsula, that I am tempted to multiply my instances
indefinitely. The Malays have many tales of latah
folk who have terrified a tiger into panic-stricken flight
by imitating his every motion, and impressing him
thereby with their complete absence of fear. I cannot
say whether there is any sort of truth in these stories,
but I can see no good reason for doubting them, since
a sudden start, such as a tiger might well be expected
to give to any one who came upon him unawares, would
certainly induce a paroxysm of latah in a man suffering
from the affliction, and a ludicrous caricature of the
tiger's gait and movements would as certainly follow.

THEORIES CONCERNING LATAH 195

A tiger might well be supposed to be frightened out
of his life by such an unwonted spectacle. I have
myself seen a woman, stiff-jointed, and well stricken in
years, make violent and ungainly efforts to imitate the
motion of a bicycle, just as I once saw an old hag strip
off her last scanty garment because a chance passer-by,
who knew her infirmity, made a gesture as though he
was about to undress himself. But when one or two
examples have been given, the main features of this
affliction are made as clear to the reader as they would
be after a thousand instances had been examined, for
one latah person is very like another, the only difference
between them being one of degree.

I now come to the unscientific notions and theories
of which, as I warned my readers at the beginning of
this paper, I propose to unburden myself.

It has been remarked that people afflicted with
latah are as often found among the well fed and
gently nurtured, as among the poor and indigent.
Also that they are more frequently of the female
than of the male sex, and I may add that, so far
as my experience goes, they are invariably adults.
During the last fourteen years I have seen a great
deal of all classes of Malays, and I will go further
than all this, and say that to the best of my belief
every adult Malay of either sex is to some extent latah,
I do not mean to imply that they are all, or nearly all,
advanced instances of the affliction, such as those of
which I have been speaking, but I do most emphatically
state my belief that almost any Malay is capable of de-
veloping into a typical case of latah y if he be sufficiently
persecuted, teased, and harassed. To induce rudi-

196 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

mentary symptoms of latah in a Malay it is only
necessary to startle him violently. Most human
beings can be made to start or 'jump* involuntarily
at a sudden noise, such as that caused by the loud
slamming of a door, and Malays are peculiarly liable
to these temporary nervous surrenders of self-control
and of will-power, for in this light these involuntary
movements must be regarded. The man who is the
victim of a sudden fright or nervous shock loses for
a moment all control over his body, as completely as
does the Malay on whom latah has won its firmest
grip. The difference which exists between him and
the latah man is only one of degree, and that difference
may often be more trifling than that which separates
one latah subject from another. Imagine a start or
'jump* indefinitely prolonged, and you have the latah
state, about which so much has been said and written.
Any one who is inclined to doubt that incipient
latah lies hidden somewhere in most pu re - blooded
Malays, can experimentalise upon the vile bodies of
any chance native who comes in their way. For
choice I would recommend a villager, one who has
lived all his life among other Malays, and who has not
had his sensations blunted by much intercourse with
White Men. Give him a sudden dig in the ribs when
he knows not that any one is at hand, and though he
is not latah in the ordinary sense of the term, as
Europeans understand its meaning, he will not only
give a violent start, but will also shoot out some
exceedingly coarse word, for which, in all probability
he will forthwith apologise. When asked for an
explanation, he will say simply that he was startled,

THEORIES CONCERNING LATAH 197

and that a sudden shock always makes him latah ; for
the Malays see no reason for applying this word
exclusively to those who suffer from the affliction in
its more advanced and exaggerated forms. Unless you
know the Malay upon whom you propose to experi-
ment pretty intimately, I counsel you to be cautious
how you try to extend your knowledge at his expense.
His passionate love of science will not probably equal
your own, and it is possible that then or later he may
think it advisable to try what effect his knife will have
on your ribs, which after all, from his point of view, is
a sufficiently interesting experiment in its way.

As I have had occasion to say more than once in
this paper, I have no pretensions to be regarded as a
scientific man, and, therefore, in so far as the pathology
of latah is concerned, I ask rather than offer an
explanation ; but any one who desires to really account
for this affliction must, I am convinced, begin by
analysing and examining and explaining the pathology
of the common start or 'jump,' to which we are all
in a lesser or a greater degree subject. This must be
the starting-point, and when this has been accounted
for by some workable hypothesis, — supposing always
that it admits of explanation at all irt the present state
of medical science, — then, and not till then, we may
hope to arrive at some reason that must undoubtedly
lie at the back of the fact that Malays, more than all
other races of men, are so peculiarly liable to this
species of seizure in its most exaggerated forms.

In the meantime, there are one or two suggestions
that may be made, as tending to throw light upon the
latter point. It is within the experience of every

198 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

European who has had occasion to sojourn long in the
Malay Peninsula, that his nerves have suffered some-
what from the 'climate.' He notices, no matter how
abstemious he may be in his habits, that he is apt to
grow what he calls 'jumpy.' He starts violently at
any sudden noise ; finds it difficult to control the
trembling of his hands in moments of strong excite-
ment ; and is generally speaking less master of his
will, and over the movements of his body, than is his
wont. Now this may be the effect of any tropical
climate upon the system of a European ; to some extent
this is no doubt the case, but I cannot but fancy that
this peculiar 'jumpiness' is more universal and more
severe in the Peninsula and in the Archipelago than in
other parts of the World. If this is so, we have at once
a tangible reason that may perhaps account for the
extraordinary sensitiveness of the Malays to sudden
sounds and shocks. If within a year or two Europeans
are able to note a marked change in their ability to
bear shocks and noises without 'jumping out of their
skins,' is it not easy to understand that a race, which
has inhabited these regions for many generations, is
very likely to have become morbidly susceptible to
these things ? Once more, it is for the medical
authorities to say why the climate of the Malay Penin-
sula and Archipelago should have this strange effect
upon the nervous systems of the people who live in it.
There are two other matters to be considered
before I conclude these somewhat disconnected remarks
upon latah. The first of these is the question that
must naturally present itself, as to why adults alone are
subject to this affliction. The most natural explana-

THEORIES CONCERNING LATAH 199

tion would seem to be, that in the young the nervous
system is not sufficiently developed to admit of this
abnormal sensitiveness being experienced in its full
force. It may be objected that little children start as
readily at sudden noises as do adults, but I think that
this cannot be regarded as in any way tending to
weaken the probability of the suggestion that I have
offered. The start or 'jumps,' as I have said, is to be
looked upon as the germ from which latah springs ;
and when we take into consideration the vast changes
to the whole nervous organisation that occur at the
age of puberty, it is easily conceivable that the seed of
the affliction may have no chance of coming to
maturity, so to speak, until the nerves of a boy or girl
have passed their rudimentary stages. All this is the
merest speculation, and I only put forward the hypo-
thesis as a suggestion, on the validity of which some
expert can finally pronounce.

The second point is, in some ways, more difficult
to deal with. Every one who has spoken or written
on the subject of latah^ has drawn especial attention
to the manner in which latah folk invariably try to
imitate the actions, and often the very words, of those
who happen to attract their attention while they are
subject to one of their seizures. Why, it will be
asked, if latah is really only a prolonged start or
'jump,' should this feature so constantly recur ? To
this I reply that the latah subject, having for the time
being completely lost all controlling power over his
will, is bereft of the faculty which is wont to regulate
the motions of his body. The will is incapable of
performing its proper functions ; and the helpless body,

200 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

abandoned to its own devices, looks about it for some-
thing to serve it as a guide. In this extremity, it
seizes upon the first moving object that catches its
sight, and follows slavishly every movement which it
makes. That there is no question of a weak will
surrendering itself to some stronger brain, is amply
proved by the fact that a latah person will mimic the
swaying motion of wind-shaken boughs just as readily
as the actions of a human being, — will follow their
movements in preference to those of a man, indeed, if
the former chance to attract his attention before the
latter. This shows that it is not a question of
surrender of will so much as a complete temporary
paralysis of the will-power, — similar, be it noted, to
that from which a man suffers when he performs some
wholly involuntary action because his will is, for a
moment, stunned by a sudden noise or shock. It is
not necessary to insist upon the fact that the actions of
a latah man, while he is in the grip of the affliction,
are in no sense voluntary. Sat did not thrust his hand
into the flame, or lay it upon the burning cooking-pot,
because he found it amusing ; and no woman of the
Malays, — the race beyond all others which is particular
to a fault about all matters of personal modesty, —
willingly dispenses with her last garment, in a public
place, at the casual invitation of a passing stranger.
Still less does a hag, who is racked with rheumatism,
try to prance along the high road in imitation of a
bicycle out of pure gaiete de coeur. The cause to
which I have attributed the alacrity of the latah
subject to imitate the actions of the moving things
about him may not be the correct one, but it is, at any

THEORIES CONCERNING LATAH 201

rate, I venture to think, a more likely and accountable
one than any that I have hitherto seen advanced by
writers on this subject.

I have spoken earlier in this paper of the possibility
of the psychological condition of the latah man being,
to some extent, accountable for his affliction. This,
however, can only be guess-work, until such time as
we know infinitely more about the real nature of the
infirmity than we do at present. In the meanwhile,
these notes may perhaps enable some more scientific
observer than myself to direct his researches in the
right course, with a view to discovering the true
nature of what, rightly regarded, is a racial rather than
an individual weakness.

THE WEEDING OF THE TARES

Kneel ilown, fair Love, and fill thyself with tears,

Girdle thyself with sighing for a girth

Upon the sides of mirth,

Cover thy lips and eyelids, let thine ears'

Be filled with rumour of people sorrowing;

Make thee soft raiment out of woven sighs

Upon the flesh to cleave,

Set pains therein and many a grievous thing,

And many sorrows after each his wise

For armlet and for gorget and for sleeve.

Swinburne.

One morning, some fifteen years ago, old Mat Drus,
bare to the waist, sat cross-legged in the doorway of
his house, in the little sleepy village of Kedondong
on the banks of the Pahang River. A single long
blade of lalang grass was bound about his forehead, to
save appearances, — for all men know that it is un-
mannerly to go with the head uncovered, and Mat
Drus had mislaid his head-kerchief. His grizzled hair
stood up stiffly above the bright green of the grass-
blade ; his cheeks were furrowed with wrinkles ; and
his eyes were old, and dull, and patient, — the eyes of
the driven peasant, the cattle of mankind. His lips,
red with the stain of the areca-nut, bulged over a

THE WEEDING OF THE TARES 203

damp quid of coarse tobacco, shredded fine, and rolled
into a ball the size of a marble. His jaws worked
mechanically, chewing the betel -nut, and his hands
were busy with a little brass tube, in which he was
crushing up a fresh quid, for his teeth were old and
ragged, and had long been powerless to masticate the
nut without artificial aid. The fowls clucked and
scratched about the litter of trash with which the
space before the house was strewn ; and a monkey, of
the species called brok^ which the Malays train to pluck
cocoa-nuts, sat on a box fixed to the top of an upright
pole, searching diligently for fleas, with the restlessness
of its kind, and occasionally emitting a plaintive,
mournful cry. In the dim interior of the house, the
voices of the women could be heard, amid the recurring
clack of crockery ; and the fresh, pure, light-hearted
laugh of a very young girl rippled out constantly,
the soft and tender cadence of her tones contrasting
pleasantly with the harsher notes of her older com-
panion.

Presently a gaily dressed youngster entered the
compound. He carried a kris at his belt, and in his
hand was a short sword, with a sheath of polished
wood.

' O Che' Mat Drus ! ' cried the new-comer, as soon
as he caught sight of the old man in the doorway.

'What thing is it ? * asked the latter, pausing in the
preparation of his quid of betel-nut.

1 The Chief sends greetings to thee, and bids thee
come on the morrow's morn to the rice-field, thee and
thine, to aid in plucking the weeds from amid the
standing crop.'

20 4 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

' It is well,' said Che' Mat Drus, resuming his
pounding stolidly.

'Also the Chief sends word that no one of thy
household is to remain behind. The women-folk also
are to come, even down to the girl Minah, who has
newly wedded thy son Daman.'

c If there be no sickness, calamity, or impediment
we will come,' said Mat Drus, with the caution of the
Oriental.

But here a third voice took part in the conversation
— a voice shrill, and harsh, and angry, which ran up
the scale to a painful pitch, and broke queerly on the
higher notes.

1 Hast thou the heart, Kria, to bring this message
to my man ? ' it cried. ' We both are of age, we both
know and understand. The Chief shall die by a
spear cast from afar, shall die vomiting blood, shall die
a violent death, and thou also, thou who art but the
hunting dog of the Chief.'

' Peace ! Peace ! ' cried Mat Drus, in a voice
betokening an extremity of fear. c Hold thy peace,
woman without shame. And Kria do thou tell the
Chief that we will come even as he bids us, and heed
not the words of this so childish woman of mine.'

i Indeed,' said Kria, c I cannot trouble me to bandy
words with a hag, but the Chief will be wroth if he
learns of the things which thy woman hath spoken.'

c They matter not, the words of a woman who is
childish,' said Mat Drus uneasily. 'Speak not of them
to the Chief.'

c Then lend me thy spear with the silver hasp at
the base of the blade ! ' said Kria, and when he had

THE WEEDING OF THE TARES 205

obtained possession of this weapon, which he had long
coveted, he swaggered off to pass the word to other
villagers that the Chief required their aid to weed his
rice crop.

The sun stood high in the heavens, its rays beating
down pitilessly upon the broad expanse of rice-field.
The foot -high spears of pddi received the heat and
refracted it, while the heat -haze danced thin, and
restless, and transparent over the flatness of the
cultivated land. The weeders, with their sarongs
wound turban -wise about their heads, for protection
against the fierce sun, squatted at their work, men,
women, and little children, the perpendicular rays
dwarfing their shadows into malformed shapeless
patches.

Near the centre of the field a hut had been erected,
walled and thatched with palm-leaves, and the interior
was gay with many-coloured hangings surrounding the
mat and pillows of the Chief. Numerous brass trays
containing food specially prepared for the occasion lay
upon the flooring. In the interior of the Malay
Peninsula, the luxury accessible to even the richest
and most powerful natives is of a somewhat primitive
order ; but to the eyes of the simple villagers, the
interior of this hut presented as high a degree of
civilisation, as did the chateau of a French noble
before '89 to the peasant who dwelt on his estate.

About noon the Chief emerged from the hut, and
began a tour of inspection among the weeders, throwing
a word to one or another, and staring boldly at the
women, with the air of a farmer apprizing his stock.

206 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Haifa dozen fully-armed youths, dressed brilliantly in
many-coloured silks, followed at the heels of their
master.

Mat Drus and his son Daman, with three or four
women, sat weeding near the edge of the jungle, and
Minah, the girl who had recently married Daman,
edged her way towards her husband, as the Chief
drew near.

' What is the news, Mat Drus ? ' asked the harsh,
coarse voice of their Master.

1 The news is good, O Chief,' replied Mat Drus,
stopping his work, and turning submissively towards
the speaker. All the rest of the little party acted in like
manner, and the women-folk, squatting humbly with
their men, bowed down their heads to avoid the
hungry eyes of the Chief.

' Who is this child ? ' asked the great man, pointing
to Minah.

1 She is the wife of thy servant's son,' replied Mat
Drus.

c Whose daughter is she ? '

c She is thy servant's daughter,' said an old and
ill-favoured woman, who squatted at Mat Drus's
elbow.

1 Verily a salak fruit ! ' cried the Chief. c An ugly
tree, thorny and thin art thou, but thou hast borne a
pretty luscious fruit.'

The weeders laughed obsequiously.

c How clever are the words of the Chief ! ' ejaculated
Mat Drus, in a voice carefully calculated to reach the
ears of the man he feared. The Chief did not even
condescend to glance at him.

THE WEEDING OF THE TARES 207

4 Sweet Fruit,' he said addressing Minah. c Thou
art thirsty with thy toil. Come to my hut, and I
will give thee luscious sweetmeats to slake thy little
parched throat.'

c Don't want to,' mumbled the girl.

1 Nay come, I bid thee,' said the Chief.

'Go, girl,' said the mother.

' Don't want to,' repeated Minah, nestling more
closely to Daman, as though seeking his protection.

'What meaneth this?' cried the Chief, whose
eyes began to wax red. 'Come when I bid thee,
thou daughter of an evil mother ! '

'She is afraid,' said Mat Drus pleadingly. 'Be
not angry, O Chief, she is very young, and her fears
are great.'

' May she die a violent death ! ' yelled the Chief.
' Come ! Wait but a moment, and thou shalt be
dragged thither ! '

'Have patience, O Chief!' said Daman sulkily.
' Let her be. She desires not to go.'

' Arrogant one ! ' screamed the Chief. ' Thou art
indeed a brave man to dare to thwart me. Thou shalt
aid to drag her to my hut.'

Daman leaped to his feet. Like the rest of his
kindred, he had squatted humbly in the dust during all
the talk, — a serf in the presence of his lord, — but now
he stood erect, an equal facing an equal, a man defend-
ing his women-folk from one who sought to put
shame upon them.

' Peace, Daman ! Have patience ! ' cried Mat Drus
nervously, but his son had no thought to spare for
any save the Chief just then. His clear, young eyes

208 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

looked boldly and angrily into the sodden, brutal,
bloodshot orbs, set in the coarse self-indulgent face of
his enemy, and the Chief faltered and quailed before
his gaze. Daman's hand went to his dagger-hilt
with a sounding slap, and the Chief reeled hastily
backwards, nearly losing his footing, as he stepped
blindly. His youths surged up around him, and the
coward felt his courage returning to him, when he
realised that they were at hand. No word was spoken
for a little space, as the enemies eyed one another,
and Minah, crouching close to Daman's mother,
whimpered softly, though a thrill of love and admira-
tion ran through her, as she marked the bearing of her
husband.

Suddenly Kria, who stood somewhat to the right
of the Chief, raised his arm in act to throw, and the
bright sunlight glinted for a moment on the naked
blade of a spear, — a spear with a silver hasp, which,
until lately, had been the property of Daman's father.
Kria's eye sought that of the Chief, and the latter
signalled to him to cast his weapon. The long spear-
handle, with its shining tip, flew forward with
incredible velocity, like a snake in the act of striking,
but Daman leaped aside, and the weapon hissed harm-
lessly past him.

4 Strike with the Paralyser ! ' cried the Chief, and
at the word one of his youths ran forward, and stabbed
swiftly and shrewdly at Daman with a long uncanny-
looking weapon. It was a forked spear with two
barbed blades of unequal length, and, after vain attempts
to avoid the thrusts of his enemy, Daman at length
took the point in his chest. He was now powerless,

THE WEEDING OF THE TARES 209

for the barbed tip could not be withdrawn, and the
sharp point of the shorter blade prevented him from
running up the spear, and killing his man, as has
frequently been done in the Peninsula by one mortally
stricken.

The women screamed shrilly, and Minah sought
to run to her man's aid, but those about her held her
fast, while she shrieked in an agony of horror. The
weeders clustered around, murmuring sullenly, but
none dared interfere, and above all the tumult sounded
the harsh, coarse laugh of the Chief.

c Verily a fish at the end of a fish-spear ! Watch
him writhe and wriggle ! ' he cried. c Do not kill
him until we have had our sport with him.'

But Daman who had never uttered a sound, was not
a man to die without a struggle. He soon found that
it was impossible for him to wrench the barbed spear
from his breast, and seeing this, he threw his kris
violently in the face of the man who had stabbed him.
The snaky blade flew straight as a dart, and the tip
ripped open the cheek and eye-lid of Daman's enemy.
The latter dropped the end of the spear, which he had
hitherto held firmly in both hands, and Daman now
strove manfully, in spite of the agony it occasioned
him, to wrench the blade free. This was an unex-
pected turn for affairs to take, and the Chief's laughter
stopped suddenly.

'Slay him ! Slay him ! ' he yelled to his men, and,
at the word, Kria, who had recovered his weapon,
stabbed Daman full in the throat, with the broad
spear-blade. The murdered man sank to the ground
with a thick, sick cough, and no sooner was he down,

210 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

than the Chiefs youths rushed in to wet their blades
in his shuddering flesh.

Minah, wild with fear, threw herself prostrate upon
the ground, seeking to shut out the sight with her
tightly clasped hands, and, as she lay on the warm
earth, the wailing of the women, the rough voices of
the men, and the soft swish of the steel piercing the
now lifeless body of her husband, told her that all was
over.

The day waned, darkness shut down over the land,
and the moon rose above the broad, still river, pale and
passionless, looking calmly down upon a world which,
bathed in her rays, seemed unutterably peaceful and
serene. But all through that night, and for many
days and nights to come, the pitiful wailing of a girl
broke the stillness of the silent hours, in the neighbour-
hood of the Chiefs compound. It was only Minah
mourning for her dead, and taking more time than her
friends thought altogether necessary to become ac-
customed to her new surroundings, as one of the
household of the Chief.

Her new lord was not unnaturally annoyed by her
senseless clamour ; and beating, he discovered, tended
only to increase the nuisance. But crumpled rose-
leaves are to be met with in every bed of flowers, and
the Chief had, at any rate, the satisfaction of knowing
that in future the season of weeding would be a merry
time for him, and that all would be conducted seemly
and orderly, without any risk of his peace or his
pleasure being further disturbed by rude and vulgar
brawls.

IN THE RUSH OF MANY WATERS

Our homes are whelmed 'neath a watery waste,

Bestir ye, our Thousands, and flee !
Crawl, wriggle, and struggle, and haste, O haste !

To the bough, and the branch, and the tree.
The purring flood is around and about,

His waters are angry and red,
Quick ! Join in the tail of the labouring route,

Ere half of our Thousands be dead !

The Song of the Ants.

The broad Perak River was rolling down in flood.
For two days its waters had been rising steadily, and
my boat had sidled up stream, hugging the jungle-
covered bank, towards which the steersman kept her
head pointed, while three or four squealing Malays
propelled her by means of forked poles thrust firmly
against the yielding, swaying branches, and the leafy
shrubs. As the poles were withdrawn the boat would
move forward, reeling tipsily against the greenery of
the banks, so that protruding boughs forced their way
under the palm-leaf roof, scratching my face and hands
as I lay there, and littering my mat with heaps of
sodden trash. Ants and other creeping things had
come aboard in their thousands, running over me with

212 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

swarms of restless legs. Occasionally one or another
of the boatmen would miss his aim as he prodded at
the jungle on the bank, and a lurch which followed
would send an even wave of water rippling over my
mat. Therefore everything in the boat was wet
through, and the physical discomfort of my surround-
ings was more than sufficient for my requirements.

We made little progress, of course, for the current
was very strong, and the greenery on the banks gave
but a poor hold to the punting-poles, and as I was in
a hurry, I tied up my boat for the night in a pretty
bad temper.

Three times before the dawn came we had to shift
our moorings, for the waters were rising angrily, and
when daylight broke, the river was a dozen feet
above its banks. It was a lovely morning when the
sun rose above the jungle, for the rain to which the
flood was due had fallen in the mountains more than a
hundred miles away, and here the sky was clear and
bright. The river, red with earth stains, rolled along
with here and there a swirling eddy on its surface,
marking some submerged snag or rock. Its broad
breast was flecked with drift, — a portion of a native
shanty ; a giant tree, whirling helplessly round and
round, while the water played in and out of its spread-
ing branches to which the green leaves still clung, or
rolled it over and over ; dry logs, long dead, which no
flood had hitherto succeeded in dragging into the
water, wallowed deeply as they sagged down stream ;
and here and there some drowned buffalo, or dead
beast of the forest. The river in its bed made a gentle
purring sound as it rolled along, but on each bank the

IN THE RUSH OF MANY WATERS 213

water, tearing through the jungle, made a ceaseless
swishing noise, varied now and then by the dull splash
of a felling tree. And from above us the sun looked
down upon the dulled flood which glistened and shone,
but threw back no answering reflection from its ruddy
surface.

The boatmen sat philosophically chewing quids of
betel-nut, and gazing placidly at the world of water.
Progress in the face of such a flood was of course
impossible for my large boat, and a dug-out with a
couple of Malays in it, which whirled down to us
from the village below which we were moored, had
much ado to avoid being swept past us.

4 If this be the likeness of the Male Flood, what
will that of the Female be ? ' ejaculated my Head
Boatman. In common with other Malays he held the
belief that floods, like other moving things, go in
couples. The first to come is the Male, and when he
has passed upon his way, the Female comes after him,
pursuing him hotly, according to the custom of the
sex, and she is the more to be feared, as she rushes
more furiously than does her fleeing mate.

It was important for me to reach Kuala Kangsar,
— a township which lay some thirty miles up river, —
not later than the following evening ; and while the
morning meal was being cooked, I gazed sulkily at
the flood, and wondered how this was to be accom-
plished. Walking was out of the question, for the
river had broken bounds and the water stood ten feet
in the jungle on either bank. Then it occurred to
me that a dug-out might thread its way through the
submerged forest, where the current was broken by

214 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the trees, and the obstructing underwood was well
below the surface of the flood. Accordingly when our
rice had been eaten, I embarked in the dug-out with
Kulop and Ngah, two of my men, and talcing the
steer-oar myself, set them to work the paddles.

We expected to spend the night in some native
hut, — for the banks of the Perak River are set closely
with little villages, — so we did not encumber the dug-
out with food. A change of clothes for each of us,
and a mosquito-net for me, was all the gear we con-
sidered necessary, except the tobacco and betel-nut
which such of us as needed them carried about our
own persons.

We fought our way through the racing water,
which lined the jungle, and pushed through a tangle
of boughs into the forest. Then we headed up stream,
threading our way carefully between the close -set
trees.

The forest, as I saw it that day, has left an impres-
sion upon me that I shall never forget. It resembled
the depths of some enchanted wood such as an Evil
Genius might have set about his castle in order to
affright would-be intruders upon his solitude. The
canopy of branches, interwoven and twined one about
another, completely obscured the daylight, and cast an
even and melancholy gloom about us. The sodden
darkness which eyer. clings about the forests of the
Peninsula seemed to be intensified by the water in
which the trees appeared to have taken root ; and an
added stillness pervaded the silent woods. This, how-
ever, was an aspect of Nature by no means strange to
me, but to-day the trees themselves were wholly un-

IN THE RUSH OF MANY WATERS 215

like any to which my eyes were accustomed. Some
were stained an angry red, others glistened with a
black sheen, while others again were of a dull and
lustreless colour, quite foreign to vegetable life. And
as I looked at them the bark of one and all seemed to
be endued with a strange power to move and crawl.
Then I saw the cause of the change that had come
over the forest. Every tree was covered with ants,
and insects of strange varieties, all seeking shelter from
the flood. One tree would be occupied by all the
inhabitants of a red ants' nest, the lanky, long-legged,
wasp-waisted creatures crawling restlessly over one
another, and occasionally missing their foothold, to fall,
struggling impotently, into the water beneath. On
many trees a fierce war was waging between ants from
rival nests, every inch of bark being covered by a
swarming, struggling mass of furious insects, fighting
cruelly, and with a viciousness which the complete
absence of all noise and outcry only seemed to empha-
sise. Here and there a great elephant ant, an inch
long, would be seen struggling bravely but helplessly
under a load of tiny assailants ; or a great flat wood-
louse floundered along with half a hundred insects
clinging to his scaly back. Clouds of cockroaches of
all shapes, sizes, and degrees of villainy, fluttered from
the branches against which we brushed, and ran over
our bodies with their loathsome legs.

But the semblance of an "enchanted wood was
chiefly given by the snakes. Over and over again as
we skirted a tree, or pushed past a low, hanging bough,
a cruel, lozenge-shaped head would dart out at us from
among the foliage, with wicked, glistening eyes, and

216 STUDIES IN BROWN HVMJN1TT

nimble, protruding tongue. We could see others coiled
up in the branches overhead, and several fell into the
boat, or splashed into the water around us during the
course of the day. Now and then we would turn
aside to avoid a water-snake wriggling along the sur-
face of the flood, only to find another enemy coiled up
in a branch into which we had backed.

Scorpions and centipedes, wasps and hornets, which
nest in the earth, every kind of stinging and evil-
smelling abomination crawled over or fluttered among
the trees in which they had sought shelter. We killed
two large, black, crab-like scorpions in the boat. I
was myself stung by a centipede which fastened on to
the back of my neck, and our skins were raw with
the stinging and biting of ants and other lesser insects.

All that day we pushed on through the submerged
forest, baling out water and wild beasts at intervals,
and when the night began to shut down, we found
ourselves far inland, with a very vague idea of our
whereabouts, and no village in our neighbourhood.
Broad patches of ground were here and there showing
above the surface of the water, and on one of these we
camped for the night. Supper there was none, and
the mosquitoes came in clouds to feast upon us. The
sounding slaps upon their bare skins, which the Malays
made every second when the mosquitoes bit them
keenly, disturbed my rest, and eventually we all three
lay down side by side upon the bare earth under my
curtain. My bedfellows were restless sleepers, and
the ants were here as everywhere, so when the dawn
came I was not only a very hungry, but also a very
tired man.

IN THE RUSH OF MANY. WATERS 217

Alas ! there was no morning meal to detain us while
it was being cooked ; no fire even over which to
linger warming ourselves after the cold dankness of
our comfortless night ; so we made a very early start,
stepping into our dug-out, and making our way once
more through the insect- and reptile-covered trees.
The jungle had been submerged for many hours now,
and the fights between rival ants were mostly ended —
even wounded friends had been cast ruthlessly into the
water. Some depressed-looking monkeys sat cowering
in the upper branches, and here and there the sharp
face of a rat peered down at us with quick, curious
glances. We were heading inland now, trying to find
the edge of the flooded jungle, and about 1 1 a.m. we
came to dry ground and went ashore.

The jungle was not thick in this place, and we
pushed our way through it with little difficulty. This
was just as well, for we had eaten no food for nearly
thirty hours, and had passed a night which held but
little ease. We said hardly a word one to another,
but we plied our wood-knives doggedly, and plodded
patiently onwards. After an hour's tramp, Kulop,
who was leading, suddenly gave a grunt of dissatisfac-
tion. In front of us the jungle was once more sub-
merged, and looking through the trees, we could see
no end to the stretch of water. I began to feel
desperate. We had come too far inland to think of
going back, for we were now walking against Hunger
- that grimmest and most sure - footed of all
competitors.

4 Our fate is indeed accursed ! ' exclaimed Kulop.

' What is now our stratagem ? ' I asked.

218 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

'Whatever the Tuan pleases,* said my two com-
panions.

I said a word or two to them, and then we all three
fell to work, and in a few minutes had completed the
construction of a tiny raft. Next we stripped to the
skin, and, piling all our possessions upon the raft,
waded into the stagnant water, pushing it carefully
before us. We were soon out of our depths, but aiding
one another we swam steadily onwards with the raft
bobbing and rolling in front of us. Ngah was faint
for want of food, and we had to make many halts,
clinging to the trunks of the trees, or the overhanging
branches for support, before that weary swim was
finished. The swamp proved to be about half a mile
across, and we were all more or less exhausted before
we gained the far side.

At last, dragging the raft after us, we floundered
out of the shallows, three naked men, with here and
there a black and shiny band six inches long clinging
to our water- puckered skins. These were horse-
leeches, breakfasting happily, and when we had
wrenched them from their holds, the blood ran in
widening scarlet streaks and patches down our wet
bodies.

Shivering and chattering with cold, stained with the
foul water, raw with the bites and stings of insects,
and bleeding in many places, we began to tumble into
our clothes. We were very sorry for ourselves. It
was now that I discovered that my shoes had dis-
appeared. When they fell off the raft we could not
say, but they were gone past all hope of recovery. I
cut my trousers off at the knee with my wood-knife,

IN THE RUSH OF MA NT WATERS 219

for the flapping bottoms would afford too good cover for
the jungle leeches, and I think I cursed a little to myself
as I started forward once more. I had been in charge
of a District the year before where the swamp water
was so poisonous that it made one's feet swell hideously.
Therefore during some months I had been driven to
do my jungle travelling without the aid of the boots
into which my feet declined to fit, so I now found
little difficulty in picking my way barefoot through
the forest.

Twice again we had to cross swamps, but neither
of them was so broad as that which we had already
encountered. Standing on the grassy bank of the last
one, while we plucked a fresh batch of horse-leeches
from our bleeding limbs, I saw the mountains which
divide the Perak Valley from Larut showing above the
jungle. Directly in front of us was Gunong Arang
Para — the Mountain of Soot — and a little behind it
rose the summit of Gunong Bubu — the Fish-Trap —
with its angular peak flanked by the long, flat ridge.
I could see each round tree-top on the mountain sides,
and the bungalow among the coffee shrubs on the
upper slopes of Arang Para. This showed me that we
were already some five miles inland, and I knew that
if we pressed forward towards the hills, we should,
sooner or later, strike a charcoal-burners' path leading
along the foot of the mountains to the high-road.
This thoroughfare joins Kuala Kangsar to Taiping,
and I calculated that we should strike it some five miles
from the former place. This gave me hope, and we
all three plunged into the jungle, heading for the
mountains with renewed energy.

220 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

The Malays lagged somewhat, and I pressed on
alone. There had once been a path leading inland
from this point, but it was now much overgrown, and
my wood - knife was constantly needed to help me
force my way through the thick brushwood. Here
and there a monster tree, which in its fall had dragged
others to the ground, obstructed the path, and over it
I had to climb laboriously. In places the faint trail dis-
appeared utterly, and I had to make numerous casts on
one side and on the other, before I could find a means
of again moving forward. It was weary work, and I
was faint with hunger, but I pushed on doggedly, and
after some hours, which seemed like weeks, I came
out upon a charcoal-burners* path. It had only been
cleared sufficiently to enable the slow buffaloes to drag
their clumsy sledges along it, and the passage of many
hoofs had stamped the yielding earth into a quagmire.
It was heavy walking for a weary, famished man, and
the two miles which separated me from the high-road
were almost too much for me.

At last the welcome streak of yellow — the dusty,
metalled road winding through the green walls of
jungle on either hand — showed me that civilisation was
drawing near ; and my bare feet trod its flint-set surface
with a boundless satisfaction. A Chinaman's booth
stood by the roadside, a few hundred yards away, and
from rattan lines stretched across the window depended
little clusters of yellow bananas. The Chinaman
could speak no known language, so I could not explain
my position to him, but when I sat down and devoured
the whole of his fruit with such eager delight he smiled at
me compassionately, and doubtless told himself that the

IN THE RUSH OF MANY WATERS 221

4 Red-Headed Foreign Devil ' was mad. I am afraid
that I confirmed him in this opinion by the lavish
manner in which I paid for my meal ; but indeed I was
grateful to him, and would readily have parted with
my birthright that day in exchange for the least savoury
mess of pottage.

Then I got some Malays together, and sent them
back, with such food as they could collect, to seek for
Kulop and Ngah. I afterwards learned that they
found them lying down, quite exhausted, about half a
mile from the charcoal-burners' track.

When the search party had started, I set off to
walk into Kuala Kangsar, and in three hours' time I
once more saw the waters of the Perak River. The
angry stream rolled down swollen and ruddy, measuring
nearly half a mile across. The whole of the low-lying
township was flooded, and even in the shops on the
higher roads the people were camping on the roofs.
On the hills around the town the Malays were living
under all manner of crazy shelters, and the smell of the
evening meal, which all were engaged in cooking, fell
gratefully upon my nostrils as I threaded my way
among the huts.

Many of my friends were homeless and outcast that
day, and a draggled and woebegone crowd they were
to look upon, but my own figure was, perhaps, the
most ruffianly of all. My broad felt hat was a limp
and shapeless mass j my flannel shirt was torn down
the back, and hung in sodden tatters about me ; my
trousers were sawn off raggedly at the knee ; my legs
and feet were bare. Here and there a patch of red
showed where the blood from a leech bite had stained

222 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

my clothes. The dirt of the jungles clung about me
from head to foot, and the white dust of the road was
caked over all. Never was respectable man reduced to
an aspect more disreputable !

Perak is a peaceful land, from which the knife and
the spear have for ever departed ; but so long as
Nature plays her pranks with us, a man may
accumulate unpleasant experiences even in places
where Pax Britannica is an idol unbroken.

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW

The Dream came to me as I lay

Beneath the waving palm,
It led me forth upon my way,

It broke upon my calm,
It whispered to me as I went

Beneath the forest green,
The Message that my God had sent

To break my sleep serene.

Ah me ! I travailed brave and strong,

To set the wry World right,
To succour those who suffered wrong,

To fight the Holy Fight j
And if the Wicked win the day

'Tis Allah's will, I wean,
Glad to His peace I'll pass away,

Who have His Vision seen !

The Song of the Dreamer of Dreamt.

Is the East men not infrequently suffer sadly because
they are so unfortunate as to possess ideas. In the
West, on the other hand, a man may hold all manner of
extravagant theories without necessarily being brought
by them to an evil end. The reason of this is very
plain. The less excitable European does not always
think it incumbent upon him to put all his theories
into practice, whereas the ideas which come to an

224 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Oriental have a habit of running away with their
owner, leaving him no peace, until they have succeeded
in landing him in some very unsavoury place, such as
the Andaman Islands, or the Central Gaol.

The White Man, looking calmly at the age into
which he has been born, and at all the circumstances
of his surroundings, may tell himself that the times are
not yet ripe for the adoption of his more advanced
theories. This is a comforting view to take, for the
man who looks upon life and its difficulties in this
common-sense light runs no risks, while he has further
the consolation of thinking that he is blessed with an
intellect more far-seeing than those of his fellows. If
he has ideas very badly indeed, he may sit down and
write about them ; and we all know that the profuse
ink-flux is an exceedingly efficient safety-valve. By
its means large quantities of bile and other disagree-
able fluids may be carried off, which, without some
such relief, might conceivably hurry their victim into
impossible action, dangerous to society, and still more
hazardous to himself. The inability of the Celt to
appreciate the fact that half a hundred excellent reasons
may exist for not putting a beautiful theory into
practice without more ado, is one of the qualities
that make the most Westerly people of Europe so
incongruously like the nations of the East. The
Russians, being to all intents and purposes an Oriental
race, share this inability with other Asiatic peoples.

But the majority of Brown Men go further than
this, for they can see no steps between the inception
of an idea and its realisation. Their natures are so
constructed that they cannot easily be made to under-

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 22$

stand that all really sound theories are sure to be tried
upon their merits, if you only wait long enough, but
that for this to happen, the theory itself must have
some intrinsic value of its own. Even could they
appreciate this feet, it would not help them, for they
are impatient of delay. They want to see their
theories put into practice now, at once, during their
own lifetime. They are unable to look forward calmly
to the days when their children's grandchildren will
enjoy many good things to which they must ever
remain strangers. c Why should we do so much for
Posterity ? What has Posterity done for us ? ' was
the impassioned exclamation of the excellent Sir Boyle
Roach, and the feeling expressed in this remarkable
phrase finds an echo in many an Oriental heart.

Moreover the Man with an Idea, if he belong to an
Asiatic race, never stays to ask himself whether his
theory is really for the good of the greatest number.
An intense belief in its merits comes to him with the
idea itself, and his utter faith in it is thus, from the
very first, both firm and unquestioning.

Now in Europe and Asia alike, the first object or
the political theorist is to break down the Present ; but
while the White Man peers eagerly into the Future,
and his hands itch to fashion it according to his heart's
desire, the Brown Man's eyes are fixed dreamily upon
the Past. The White Man seeks to build up What
Ought To Be ; the Brown Man longs to reconstruct
What Has Been ; and since the unlettered Oriental
has none of the safety-valves which may bring relief
to the European, the Idea is wont to hurry him into
ill-considered and ill-advised action. Then, if the »

226 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Present chances to be presided over by the British
Government, that unwieldy monster lifts up its foot,
and stamps upon the Man with an Idea ; and he and
those who have followed him thereafter suffer many
and heavy things because of the faith that is in them.

In the Malay State of Pahang there was once a
Man with an Idea. He had begun life as dog-boy to
a Prince ; and the latter, after many wars, wrested the
throne from its rightful owners, and became a King.
As the new Monarch was a keen sportsman, and
appreciated the skill of the dog-boy, it followed that
the latter presently found himself the possessor of a
high-sounding title, a long and straggling river, and a
steady income, derived from c squeezing ' the couple
of thousand peasants who had their homes in the
valley through which this river ran. In an in-
dependent Malay State, jobs on this magnificent scale
excite no adverse comment ; and the simple villagers
bowed down before the ex-dog-boy, and feared him
exceedingly, as one who held unlimited power in his
hands.

I knew him well in those days, and he certainly
was a remarkable man. His knowledge of wood-craft
was unsurpassed, even among the aboriginal tribes of
jungle-dwellers, with whom, at certain seasons, he was
wont to herd, garbed, like them, in a scanty loin-
cloth, fashioned from the bark of the trap tree. He
was gifted with great physical strength, invincible
courage, much cunning, and a really marvellous
imagination. This latter possession is of no small
value to a Malay of the Peninsula, for in no land, and

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 227

among no other people, may a man more easily induce
others to take him at his own valuation. A huge
granite boulder, weighing some five tons, is still
pointed out, lying high up on the bank of the river,
over which the ex-dog-boy ruled, and the traveller,
who passes it, is told how the Chief plucked it with
one hand from the river bed, and cast it aside where it
now lies, because it chanced to obstruct the passage of
his dug-out. The Chief himself was responsible for
this remarkable statement, and no man dreamed of
doubting his word. Like the man who was the
bravest Knight in France, ' he said so, and he ought
to know.*

Thus the ex-dog-boy's reputation waxed very great
in the land, and he flourished exceedingly ; and the
good old times ran gaily through the hour-glass in the
bad old way, until Pahang became a Protected State,
and the servants of the British Government began the
ungrateful and laborious task of teaching an un-
regenerate people the elementary differences between
right and wrong, and between meum and tuum.

The bulk of the people were well pleased, for peace
and plenty — strangers in their villages — began to draw
near, and to smile upon them. But the Chiefs could
not, of course, regard matters in quite the same light.
When a large district lies before him, from which he
may pick and choose all that his heart may desire,
without asking absurd questions as to ownership ;
when his income is what he may elect to exact in fine
and cess from the cowed villagers, who dare not resist
him ; when he is not cursed with a conscience \ and
when he has no bowels of compassion in his anatomy, —

228 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

even though he be married half a dozen deep, a man
may succeed in living very much at his ease. But
when all these things, upon which he has learned to
rely, sink away suddenly from under him, as the Earth
drops downwards as you gaze at it from the car of a
rising balloon ; when power, and wealth, and cherished
manorial rights, — such as were wont to make life so
sweet to him, so exceeding bitter to his neighbours,
— are all reft from him in a moment ; when he is
called upon to live up to a standard of morality with
which he has no sympathy ; and when his only com-
pensation is a monthly stipend, — the very regularity of
which robs life of half its excitement, — a man is apt to
become morose and taciturn, and to spend much time
in dreaming of the good old days.

Such was the experience of the ex-dog-boy ; and
upon a certain day, as he lay tossing upon his mat,
and pondering moodily upon the Past, the Idea came
to him. Then, in that hour, several hundreds of souls
— men, and tender women, children at their mothers'
skirts, and little babies at the breast — were doomed to
terrible suffering, and, in too many instances, to a
lingering and untimely death.

The Idea was, of course, that the ex-dog-boy and
his people should rise up against the representatives
of the British Government, and should drive them
screaming from the land. The ex-dog-boy had nothing
to scale things by, and he knew that the White Men
and their followers were few. The matter seemed
easy, and he counted on the other Chiefs, who shared
his grievances, and his love of the good old times, to
join him, and share also in his risks. The peasants,

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 229

he knew, would follow the Chiefs in a war directed
against their best interests, from sheer force of habit,
and because the feudal feeling was still strong within
them ; and in so judging the event proved him to be
right. But the other Chiefs lacked his courage, so
the rising never became general, though aid was lent
to the ex-dog-boy by every secret means that could
suggest themselves to his numerous well-born sympa-
thisers.

And here it is that the Muhammadan has the
advantage of the Christian. If the latter wars with
the Powers that Be, he may be an Anarchist, or a
Socialist, or a Nihilist, but he is by no means neces-
sarily regarded as a Christian Hero. Some Christians
may be found to sympathise with him, but their
sympathy is in no sense connected with their religious
beliefs. But with the Muhammadan it is different.
If those against whom he rebels chance to belong
to any other Faith, no matter what the cause
of quarrel, no matter how lax the rebel's own
practice may be, his revolt against authority is at once
raised to the dignity of a Sabil Allah, or Holy War
against the Infidel. It becomes a reproach to any
Muhammadan to side against him ; all who aid him
thereby serve God and His Prophet ; and in this lies
the real strength of a Muhammadan population.

Wonderful it is how powerful are those words c Sabil
Allah* among even the least fanatical of Muhammadans.
Men who never pray, not even on Friday ; men who
break the Fast of Ramathan for thirty days each year ;
men to whom the Faith is nothing but a name, and
whose knowledge of its tenets would disgrace an

230 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

ignorant European, can still be fired to enthusiasm,
when the sorriest and most selfish rebel among them
dignifies his storm in a tea-cup by calling it a Holy
War.

This merely affords one more instance of the
marvellous cohesion of the Muhammadans. Their
Faith, which is hedged about by pride and hate,
causes them to regard the professors of all other
religions with a passion of disdain, such as no modern
Christian can easily realise ; and it has, withal, the
power to bind men one to another, as nothing else
can do. The old, simple, unquestioning Faith of the
Middle Ages, when the two thousand odd Christian
Sects were as yet uninvented, and when, speaking
broadly, all men held the same teaching upon all
points of theology, may have had some very similar
effect upon its professors ; but the warlike Creed of
Muhammad has for its very marrow a desire to ex-
terminate all other Faiths — putting infidel men to the
sword, and leading their women-folk captive, — a spirit
which is certainly not to be found in the Gospels of
Christ.

This is the rough outer edge which Muham-
madanism presents to those who are not of the Faith ;
but among themselves, those who believe in Allah and
the Prophet, exercise to one another a large and
generous charity, that may well put to shame the
Christians, to whom that virtue, in its highest practice,
should surely belong.

The ex-dog-boy opened the game by firing upon
a party of Europeans from the heavy jungles which

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 231

fringed the banks of the narrow river over which he
had once ruled supreme. He killed a few people, and
wounded some others. Then he chanced to catch
Sikh, who had lost his way in the jungle, and him he
strangled with a rattan, after making him, while still
living, the victim of nameless mutilations. Thus the
first blood was to him ; and his people followed him
like sheep, with their old fear of him, and their belief
in his prowess waxing strong within them.

But his next move in the game was a mistake.
Malays chiefly conduct their warfare from behind
stockades, the attacking party constructing their rude
works at a safe and convenient distance from those of
the enemy. Much breath is expended in shouts and
vaunting challenges, and large quantities of gun-
powder are burned, but after war has raged for many
months a mere handful of casualties have to be counted,
for no attempt is made to rush a stockade so long as
any watch is kept within it. The ex-dog-boy believed
that White Men fought upon a like principle \ so when
he took the field, he built numerous forts, all of which
were promptly destroyed.

I shall not follow him through the various stages
of the campaign which ensued, but eventually he
became convinced that he and his people must make
their way out of Pahang if they would win to safety.
He dared not travel by any known route, but his
skill in wood-craft has been spoken of. He took to
the jungle, with some six hundred men, women, and
children, and during the space of five months he
wormed his way through untraversed forests, guiding
himself wholly by the knowledge which he possessed

232 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

of the river-systems of the country, until after many
adventures, and almost unparalleled hardships, the
strange journey was accomplished, and the miserable
remnant, that had survived the march, won clear of
the country.

If you know the East Coast of the Malay Peninsula
well, you can make your way up and down it, and
across and across, and through and through, by follow-
ing the net- work of narrow footpaths which thread
the jungles here, there, and everywhere. Travelling
in this fashion is not easy, for the trails are almost
blind in places, and every now and then a wood-knife
must make a way through the forest before a man
may pass. But the fugitives dared not follow well-
known paths, or any paths at all, save in the wildest
and least frequented parts of the forest, and even then
they were constantly harassed by their enemies. For
the rest, they cleared their own way through the
depths of a Malayan jungle, which is more like one
enormous thick-set hedge, bound fast by ropes in-
numerable, stayed at every point by giant trees, than
anything else which the untravelled Englishman can
easily imagine. Half a mile a day was a good journey
in such country ; and when the food failed, a few
yards was almost more than the stricken wretches could
accomplish. Their line of march was marked by
biiyas and /£»/, and other wild palms, which had been
felled, that men might fill their empty stomachs with
the edible shoots. At every point the earth had been
grubbed up, as by a thousand moles. This marked
the places where jungle roots and yams had been dug
for. At spots where the kepayang fruit grew plenti-

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 233

fully the refugees had camped for over a week, and
many new graves marked their resting-place, for the
kepayang bears an ill name.

Kepayang fruits so green and fair,

How like my Love are they !
To eat thereof I do not dare,

Yet cannot throw away !

says the Malay rhyme ; but those who run from the
grip of the Law are foredoomed to the suffering of
many things, and by a starving stomach no food, no
matter how unhealthy, may be lightly rejected.

For the first three months or so the rebels kept more
or less together, for deserters were dealt with severely
by the Chief, and at night-time, round the fires of the
camp, he told blood-curdling tales of the vengeance of
the White Men, filling his simple followers with a
fear that made them prefer a lingering death in the
forests to even a chance of capture. But when the
cruel grip of hunger began to wring their empty
stomachs, those among the rebels who still had the
strength to do so, pushed on, devouring the jungle
foods as they went, while the weak and feeble lagged
hopelessly behind in a land where there was no
gleaning.

The forests were dotted with little knots of strag-
glers, and we gathered them in, filled them with
good food, and sent them home to their villages, with
peace upon their faces, and in their eyes glad wonder
at the treatment meted out to them. We followed up
the main body of the rebels, and fought them again and
again in the blind jungles, where nought could be
seen save trees and dripping greenery, with the thick,

234 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

white smoke-clouds bellying through between trunks
and leaves, or hanging low in the still air. Here men
were struck dead not seeing the hand that smote them,
while the rifles sang out sharply, and clearly, and
fiercely, breaking through the forest in a thousand
echoes, amid the discordant war-yells of the enemy,
and the answering roar of our own people.

Towards the end of the fifth month the chase grew
hotter, and the little bands of survivors dwindled daily
in number. We followed them up relentlessly, for
Pahang stood at gaze, irresolute concerning the action
which it would be wise for it to take while the success
or failure of the Government hung uncertainly in the
balance. Sometimes we lost all trace of the fugitives
for weeks together ; sometimes, for a day or two, we
were hot upon their trail, and we had a stirring little
brush with them in those dreary forests every other
hour. The stragglers became more and more numer-
ous, while the Chief and his fighting-men pressed
forward with increased eagerness as they neared the
Kclantan boundary. The distress of the fugitives be-
came daily more acute, and never shall I forget the
horror of those days, and the heartrending scenes of
which I was a witness.

Sometimes it would be a small knot of stragglers,
mostly women and ghastly little children — children
whose care-worn faces seemed to bear the weight of a
hundred years of pain and sorrow. We would find
them sitting huddled together, in utter, dull despair,
looking at us almost calmly from out the awful hollows
of their deep-set eyes. How well I know that miser-
able, squalid group, and the sick passion of pity which

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 235

the sight of it awakens ! They never doubt but that
death awaits them, but even that seems to them to be
preferable to any prolongation of the keen yet lingering
agony from which they are suffering. They are in
the last stages of famine. Their skulls show sharp and
angular, with knobs of protruding temple, and promi-
nent cheek-bones visible beneath the taut, dry skin.
Their knees, their elbows, every joint in their shrunken
bodies, are bosses of bone, huge, and round, and ugly,
from which depend brittle, stick-like limbs, hanging
feeble and inert. Their feet and hands resemble the
talons of some unclean night-fowl, and their ribs rise
clear, each one of them as separate and as distinctly
marked as the bold, black stripes upon a tiger's hide.
Their stomachs alone are swollen and inflated, dread-
fully out of all proportion to their wasted frames, but
the roundness is that of disease, not the curves of health.
Their eyes are the eyes of wild beasts when food is set
before them, and like animals they throw themselves
upon it, seizing and tearing it in the fury of their
hunger. But when the first few mouthfuls have been
devoured, their strange, feeble listlessness returns, and
the slow, painful languor of their movements makes
them resemble more and more closely a weird band of
spectres in some ugly Dance of Death

Sometimes we would find a man, sitting with his
head fallen forward between his knees, with his back
against a tree, with his arms pendent and nerveless,
and his legs drawn convulsively up against his empty
stomach. His body would be a mere bag of bones, —
slender, frail bones, in a wofully tight casing of yellow,
fever-parched skin. Such an one would too often be

236 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

beyond all human aid, his shrunken gullet refusing to
swallow the brandy which we forced through his set
teeth. His mouth would be half full of some horrible
trash, with which he had tried to stay the pangs of his
hunger, stuff which he had lacked the power even to
eject. His glassy eyes would stare horribly into our
pitying faces, and without a word he would pass away
while we stood around him.

Wonderful devotion was shown to one another by
some of these poor folk in their common necessity.
Once we found a man sitting gaunt and grim, by the
side of one whom he had loved. He was too weak to
be able to bury his dead, but he would not leave the
useless skin and bone, which hunger had transformed
into a mummy, for the beasts of the forest to devour.
He would neither eat nor move until the body had
been washed and buried, according to the rites of the
Muhammadans ; and those who did these last offices
told me that the dead man's mouth was full of rice
which he had been unable to swallow, — the last hoarded
handful that the starving father had forced upon his
dying son !

On another occasion we found a little party of
three, a man and his wife, with their baby at her breast.
All were in sore straits for lack of food, and the woman
had quite lost the use of her legs. The man carried
her upon his bowed back, bound to him by an old
sarong or native waist-cloth. In his hands were two
bundles, containing all that remained to them of the
wreck of their household goods. The woman nursed
the fretful baby in the hollow of her left arm, and with
her disengaged hand she sought to clear the way for

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 237

her man, hacking feebly at the lower branches of the
trees, and at the thick underwood with a clumsy wood-
knife. She was quite a young girl, while the man was
middle-aged, and neither of them were at all good to
look upon, but when they gazed at one another I saw
the love-light well up in their eyes. Just before we
chanced upon them this poor family had struggled, in
the manner which I have described, over the summit
of a hill nearly a thousand feet in height, whence they
had again descended into the plain. I know not
how long this part of their journey had taken them,
nor what measure of toil, and pain, and heart-breaking
effort had been the man's ere half his self-imposed task
had been accomplished ; but whatever he may have
suffered, and however great the strain that he had put
upon his endurance, I know that his first care was for
the woman, when we set food before them. I re-
member, too, that he insisted upon helping to carry the
litter upon which we laid her, though he could hardly
stagger along unaided when the strain to which he had
nerved himself had been removed. When we got the
girl to one of the field hospitals he watched beside her,
tending her with a constant care and gentleness very
pitiful to sec ; and even in her last agony her eyes
followed him lovingly. But though he failed to stay
the life that ebbed so fast away from her, I cannot
think that his love, and his labour, and his suffering,
and his pain, were utterly wasted.

But, perhaps, the saddest incident of all was that
which befell at the very end of the Disturbances, when
we were hunting the vanguard of the rebels through
the forests that cluster around the borders of Kelantan.

238 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

They had still a few of their women and children
with them, but the men were nearing safety and
plenty, so those who sank by the way, too utterly worn
out to make a further effort, were now often de-
serted even by their own kinsfolk.

We were close upon the track of the rebels, whose
footsteps we had been following all day, and we were
expecting every moment to come up with them. The
afternoon was far advanced, and we hoped to find
them in camp. Some of the tracks were so fresh that
water was still oozing into the depressed toe-prints,
and the Dyak trackers in front were beginning to
bristle with excitement, like hounds on a hot scent.
The evening hymn, which all the jungle creatures
join in singing as the sun sinks, was ringing through
the forest, the parrots calling shrilly one to another as
they swooped upon the clouds of flying insects, the
birds thrilling and quavering upon almost every tree,
while the cicada raised their strident tocsin to tell that
the day was dead.

Suddenly, through all the tumult of the animal and
insect world, there broke upon our ears a cry that
made our heart-beats quicken. It was the whine of a
little child ; but to us it meant that a camp which we
hoped held the advance party of the rebels — the men
whom we had so long pursued, yet had never once
taken unawares — was close at hand. We crept
forward as noiselessly as we were able, turning into
the bed of a stream and wading down the shallows.
Presently the Dyak trackers, who were leading,
stiffened like pointers, and the next moment four of
them fired a volley. Their orders had been to hold

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 239

their fire until they received the word, but Dyalcs are
ill to hold when the chance of killing presents itself.
I rushed forward, and came up with the Dyaks in time
to see that they had fired into a small camp on the
river bank, and pushing past them I ran into the little
cluster of temporary sheds. One man lay dead with a
bullet through his stomach ; another, huddled up
under a torn and shabby velvet coverlet, was squirming
with fear, and crying to us to slay him speedily, if
indeed we desired to take his life.

In the centre of the camp sat a woman with a little
child, a girl of perhaps five years of age, clinging con-
vulsively to her. Both mother and child were scream-
ing in a manner most pitiful to hear. I turned the
man with the coverlet over with my foot, and bade
him hold his peace, as no man had any intention of
harming him. He was in the last stages of dropsy,
brought on by the hardships which he had endured in
the damp, comfortless jungles, and he sat there, a
horrible sight, calling upon his bloated carcase to burst
if he were in thought or deed inimical to the British
Government.

Disregarding him, I pushed on to where the
woman sat, and strove to reassure her.

' Peace, Sister ! ' I said. l There is no one here who
desireth to hurt thee.'

c Not hurt me ? ' she cried, with a fresh outburst of
screams. * Not hurt me ? Behold ! '

She had been sitting cross-legged on the ground,
but as she spoke, she kicked her left leg forward, and
it opened in the middle of her shin, until the heel
snapped limply against the inside of her knee. A red

240 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

chasm opened like the mouth of a shark, wide, and
gaping, and horrible to see, and a spurt of warm blood
spattered me from head to foot. She rolled over on
her back in a dead faint. The bones of her leg were
both sundered by the cruel Snider bullet, which to all
intents and purposes is an expanding missile, and the
severed arteries pumped the blood out in little eddying
jets. The ground on which she lay speedily became
covered with a broad patch of scarlet, clotting in
cracking blebs and blisters, upon which a thousand
flies settled and feasted horribly, and while we strove
vainly to staunch the flow of blood, the little girl sat
placidly at her mother's side, munching a captain's
biscuit, which we had given to her, clasping it greedily
between her tiny hands. The utter insensibility of
the child to her mother's sufferings, and the ease with
which - food distracted her attention from all other
things, was not the least ghastly feature of that painful
scene.

Presently the wounded woman began slowly to
recover consciousness. Her head rolled restlessly from
side to side, a low groan escaped her, and her eyes
opened and fixed themselves upon me as I knelt by her
side leaning over her. The look they wore — the look
of some tender, hunted animal gazing despairingly at
her captor — made the lump rise queerly in my throat.
Her lips were painfully forming words, and I bent low
to catch them. They came faint, and halting, and
broken with suffering, but even in that moment of
agony the mother's heart was with her child.

'Wilt . . . thou . . . slay . . . my . . . child . . . in
like manner ? '

FROM THE GRIP OF THE LAW 2+1

1 Sister ! ' I cried, in the familiar vernacular
phrase which makes all folks akin. c O Sister, thou
knowest that we had no desire to harm thee. It was
a bullet that had gone astraying, a bullet that had lost
its way which did thee this hurt. Have no fear for
thy child.'

c If thou slayest her not,' came the painful whisper,
1 she is still as one already dead, living as she will do,
having neither father nor mother, nor any relative to
tend or love her.'

c Peace, Sister ! ' I said. ' I myself will tend and
love her. Have no fear for her.'

The woman looked up at me wonderingly, stupidly,
until the meaning of my words at last forced itself
upon her tortured brain. Then, with a supreme
effort, she raised herself into a half-sitting posture.

c Say that again ! ' she screamed, and I repeated the
words of my promise.

c Swear that thou wilt tend her ! ' she cried next,
and I swore solemnly in the name of God. Then
she sank back exhausted, but with peace upon her
face.

c It is well,' she murmured, 'and now leave me
with my child for a little space before I die.'

I left her, and as I turned away I saw her draw the
emaciated little creature to her heart, while her face
spoke of love unfathomable, and her lips moved pain-
fully, as they formed the words of the baby language
— that tenderest of all tongues — which only mothers
and little children, the purest of our kind, know and
understand.

We camped on the opposite side of the stream, and

242 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

the night fell dark and impenetrable. At about eight
o'clock a pure baby's voice broke the stillness.

'Come and fetch me,' it cried. 'Come and fetch
me, for my mother is dead ! '

And presently the poor little starving girl, whose sad
experience had taught her so early- to recognise death,
was carried across the stream in the arms of one of my
Malays, and was laid to sleep beside me upon my mat.
Next day she was put into a knapsack, fashioned of
rattan, and sent to the rear ; and, as I write these lines
five years later, the sound of a merry laugh is borne in
to me from the place where the children of my native
followers are playing together in my compound.
The laugh rings out in the shrill pure treble of happy
childhood, and when I hear it I pause in my work, and
wonder whether the child's mother looks down upon
her little one, and is satisfied that after all her life has
not been quite a loveless one.

THE STRANGE ELOPEMENT OF
chAling THE DYAK

The Woods are old, and vast, and wide,
These Forest Lands, through which we stride j
We've known them long, we've known them well,
Their every secret folks may tell.
And yet, and yet, these Woods are strange,
These Forest Lands, through which we range,
For though we know them through and through,
They still hold marvels wondrous new.

The Song of the Old Hunters.

This story was told to me by the Penghulu of the
Dyaks, as he sat cooling his feet in the running
waters of a little stream in the interior of Trengganu,
and tenderly arranged the broken peacock feathers of
his head-dress, like a draggled bird pluming itself.
He wore a Government khaki uniform, stained green,
and black, and yellow, by much hard wear in damp
jungles, and a mangy tiger's skin, with a hole cut in
its centre, through which his head was thrust, hung
down his back and chest, like the chasuble of a
Catholic priest. He was tattooed with faint lines in
pale indigo, and the lobes of his ears consisted mainly
of two vast holes, so that the lower rims of flesh

244 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

depended limply, almost to his shoulders. His voice
was harsh and grating, and his words came with the
curious jerky intonation of the Dyalc people ; and,
since he had little skill in story-telling, and as his
Malay was crude, I shall take the words out of his
mouth, and shall relate the strange things, to which he
bore testimony, in a manner of my own choosing.

In what follows, I believe that I have not omitted
anything material, and that I have myself inserted
nothing at all ; though the tale, as I write it, is more
connected, and more exact in detail, than was the tale
as I heard it told at any one time. Natives of the
lower class lack the power to narrate any story in such
a manner that the facts follow one another, in the
order in which they actually occurred. Also, they
tell their tales with a baldness that will not bear re-
production. If a man would fill in the rude outlines,
thus supplied to him in the beginning, he must listen
to constant repetitions, must ask countless questions,
and must trust to picking up a stray fact or detail
here and there, until, at last, he can piece the thing
together into a more or less connected whole.

The following story is a specimen of this kind of
verbal patch-work.

The interior of the Dyak hut was plunged in
obscurity, dimly relieved by the dull, red glow of the
smouldering embers, and by the flecks of light cast by
the pale moonbeams struggling through the inter-
stices of the high-pitched, thatched roof, and the
wattled walls. The married couples within the single
long room, of which the hut consisted, were three in

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DYAK 245

number : — the father and mother, owners of the house,
and their two married sons with their wives — each
couple lying packed away under dingy mosquito
curtains, only giving evidences of their presence, now
and again, by a restless movement, a many-jointed,
hard-fought snore, or by the sleepy, fretful cry of an
infant at the breast, quickly soothed into silence again
by the gentle words of comfort whispered by its tired,
patient mother. But, though the night was very far
advanced, though the cool dawn-wind was whispering
through the fruit trees of the compound, and even
making a little stir among the bed-curtains of the
sleepers, two figures sat facing one another in the
obscurity, still wide awake, and happy, as only lovers
can be, who find each moment ugly that is not spent
in one another's company.

If you study the manners and customs of the various
races of the Earth with a little care, you will find the
ways of humanity strangely similar, though the men
you watch be clad in loin-cloths or in dress-coats,
though the scene be a French salon or a Malay hut.
The continental system of arranging marriages between
young folk, who have barely seen one another, finds
its counterpart in many savage lands. But the Dyak
custom of allowing unmarried girls to receive their
own guests, and to practically manage all the pre-
liminaries to their own marriages with the youth of
their choice, without reference to, or interference
from, their elders, more nearly approximates to the
American system, and would seem to show that even
the emancipated girls of that energetic race have not
got so very far ahead of primitive people and their

246 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

beginnings, as one might at first be inclined to
suppose.

dialing the Dyak had come to this particular hut
to ngayap, or court, Minang, and, though he had been
refused admittance on the first one or two occasions,
he had, later, been allowed to pay his nocturnal calls
with great regularity. Before she had become con-
vinced of his earnestness, Minang had treated dialing
with the scant courtesy that a Dyak maiden finds
necessary, if she is to preserve her self-respect. Once
or twice she had suddenly affected to be wearied by
his presence, and had abruptly bidden him depart, and
when, declining to believe that she really desired
him to be gone, he had stubbornly kept his seat,
she had stepped quickly to the fireplace, and, with
a few deft strokes of the bellows, had set flames
leaping, which cast a lurid light throughout the
hut. Then dialing had fled precipitately, for all
men know what is implied when a damsel throws
unnecessary light upon the situation, and dialing had
no desire that any one should look upon his face, and
recognise that he was the youth who had bored a girl
to desperation. Later, when she had begun to love
him, and when there no longer remained any doubt in
her mind as to dialing's passionate devotion to herself,
she had invited him to stretch himself to rest upon the
mat beside her, and dialing had lain there, listening
to her even breathing, longing for the time when she
would be his wife, but fearing to touch even the edge
of her garment, lest the cry which rouses a maiden's
men-folk should be uttered, and he should be cast out
of the hut, with the door barred against him, his body

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DYAK 247

covered with wounds and bruises, and his head broken
in many places ; for such is the custom of the Dyak
people ; and severe is the probation which a lover
must undergo before he is deemed to have proved him-
self worthy of her he desires to have to wife.

But, lately, things had taken a turn for the better.
Minang had been kinder and gentler, at each successive
meeting, and, this evening, when Chaling had played
his best and sweetest upon the little Jew's harp, and
had begun the fragmentary conversation that is per-
mitted before the girl takes her turn with the music-
maker, the consent to allow Chaling to make a formal
proposal to her people, which Mtnang in her coyness
had long withheld, had at length been given. Then
Chaling had clasped her about the waist for a moment,
and the twain now sat whispering together c In that
New World which is the Old.'

Next day, Chaling had an interview with the parents
of his lady-love — that mauvais quart cPheure which
helps to knock the romance out of so many lovers' day-
dreams — but he was a mighty hunter, and his hut was
well stored with gear of his own earning, so the ques-
tions asked by Minang's father, and the rather mercenary
demands which he made as the price of his consent,
were answered and complied with satisfactorily enough.
The date was fixed, upon which all the house should
be invited to partake of the puding sirih y and Chaling,
with his heart uplifted, as it had never been before,
betook himself to the jungle to seek for wild swine.

He was a dapper little fellow, with well-formed
sturdy limbs, the face of a London street-arab, and

248 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

only one eye. A thorn had pierced the pupil of its
fellow long ago, when Chaling was a little naked
baby roaming about, with other tiny brown puff-balls,
bathing in the streams, and playing catch-as-catch-can
in the brakes of jungle near the villages. None the
less, his sight was nearly as keen as that of other
Dyaks, which means an acuteness of vision that we
civilised men, whose organs have been blunted by
long disuse, regard as little short of miraculous.

He wore about his waist a twisted loin-cloth of
scarlet cotton with a gold thread running through the
fabric, and, by his side, hung a curved, wooden sheath,
brave with beads and red horsehair, in which reposed
the long, keen-edged Dyak knife, without which he
never went forestwards. He went all alone, like
Young Lochinvar, for the pork he sought was destined
to be a present to his future mother-in-law ; and he
was not willing that any one but himself should have
a hand in the killing. He passed quickly through
the forest, placing one foot exactly in front of the
other at each step, as is the manner of all jungle
creatures, and soon the scant traces of human habitation
were left far behind him, and Chaling found himself
in the deep, dead jungle, with only the babble of a
brook, and the gentle distant murmur of the forest
flies and insects, to disturb the utter stillness.

There was an unusual stir in the house of Minang's
people when, after two days — ample time for a man to
slay more wild swine than the village-folk could eat
in a month — Chaling still failed to return, and the
hour appointed for the eating of the puding sirih drew

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DYAK 249

near. The friends and relations of the bride had been
invited in their scores, and Minang's father and mother
waxed very wrathful, indeed, when they thought of
the shame that must fall upon them if Chaling was too
late to keep his appointment. Minang's brothers
girded their loins anew, and, with their swords at their
sides, set off upon Chaling's track, in a state of anger
which boded ill for the treatment that their prospective
brother-in-law might expect, if he chanced to fall into
their hands. Little Minang sat within her father's
hut weeping furtively, a shamed maiden, and her
mother shook her head sadly, for all Dyak women
know that suicide is the only proper medicine for
a girl who has been the subject of a public slight,
such as this. Her brothers returned bringing with
them Chaling's sword, which they had found in the
jungle, and they told strange stories of broken boughs
overhead, and of a sudden cessation of Chaling's foot-
prints, as though he had suddenly soared upwards
through the branches. They said that he had been
caught up to the sky by the hand of the Jungle Fiend,
for one and all swore that no wild beast had seized
him, since no tracks were to be found. Needless to
say, no man placed credit in their words, for they had
good reason to wish that their sister's shame might be
hidden. And Minang, weeping very bitterly, in the
still, sad night, knew that her brothers' talk was foolish-
ness ; writhed in body and spirit when she thought of
the shame that had been put upon her ; and shuddered
at the open door of self-inflicted death, through which
she knew that she ought now to pass, because, even
without Chaling, and with a fame that was besmirched,

250 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

life was still sweet while the young blood pulsed so
warmly through her veins.

As for the shameless dialing, he had eloped with a
lady, or, to be more accurate, a lady had run away "with
him ; and he now sat bruised, and sore, and naked, high
up amid the tree-tops, eyeing his new-found mistress
with extreme disfavour. He kept continually asking
himself whether he was really awake, hoping against
hope that this vile thing, which had happened to him,
was "an evil dream such as the bad spirits send to a
man when he lies stretched to sleep upon 'hard
ground,' where the devils love to dwell. But his
sores, and cuts, and scratches, and bruises, and the
aching pains in every bone, told him unmistakably
that he was wide awake, and that this unspeakable
thing was true. He rehearsed in his mind, again and
again, the order in which the events had occurred, and
he almost went mad with impotent fury when he
thought of the horror of the situation in which he
now found himself, and of his utter powerlessness to
escape from it. The morning when, amid the peace-
ful birds' chorus, he had left the Dyak village, and had
passed into the forest, that glistened with undried dew,
when his soul had been at rest, and his heart uplifted
with joy in his love for Minang, seemed incredibly far
away ; and he himself had aged, he felt, and was now
transformed into a being strangely different from the
light-hearted, cheery creature whom he had known as
Chaling so few hours ago.

He had sat down to rest at the foot of a large tree,
in a spot where the jungle was, if anything, more

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DTAK 251

thick and entangled than elsewhere, for the day was
hot, and he found the shade grateful. He had pulled
out his knife, and, with it, had peeled the rind from a
length of sugar-cane, which he had brought with him,
and, when he done with it, he had laid it aside, with-
out putting it back into its sheath. Then he had
fallen to thinking of Minang, of the soft, sweet words
she had whispered to him in the dim firelight, of the
look her face had worn when he told her of his love,
and asked her to be his wife. The better to see her
dear features on the retina of his mind, he had closed
his eyes, and the craving for sleep, that the long
watching during the previous night had brought to
him, aiding the soft, warm midday air, in the fragrant
forest, had lulled him to slumber before he even knew
that he was drowsy.

He was rudely awakened — startled into a wide-eyed
alertness without any previous gradation from sound
sleep to intense clearness of perception — by his right
arm, and the back of his neck being violently seized
from behind. He could see nothing, for the vice-like
grip on his neck kept his head immovable, but he felt
that his assailant was not a wild animal, but a human
being, for he could count the fingers that pressed into
his flesh. The things which grasped him were hands,
hard, bony, long-nailed hands, with palms rough as the
hide of a skate, and with muscles of enormous power,
but, none the less, the hands of a human being.
Chaling smelt a keen, pungent odour, like that of ill-
kept swine, and, during that terrible moment — it
seemed to him an age — while he could see nothing
but had power to feel, with a keenness of fear, that he

252 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

had never before experienced, every tale of the Spectre-
Huntsman, of the Forest-Demons, of Giants and Ogres
and Devils and Spirits, that Chaling had ever heard told
by the elders of his village, ran riot through his
frightened brain. Vainly he tried to screw his head
round one half inch, so that he might see the creature
behind him ; vainly he struggled to release his right
arm from the grip of the unseen hand that held it
drawn painfully back ; vainly he sought with his left
hand to reach the knife, whose blade shone amid the
carpet of brown dead leaves, with which the earth of
the forest is always strewn to a depth of many inches.
He could do nothing. The knife looked very near,
yet it was as hopelessly out of reach as it would have
been had the metal that formed its blade still lain
untouched in the bowels of the earth. Chaling
stretched out a prehensile foot to grasp the knife,
for, like most Dyaks, he could on occasion pick a
sixpence off the ground with his toes, but he missed
it by a fraction, and the semblance to a bad dream
seemed now to be complete. All these actions, and
the hurrying thoughts that prompted them, occupied
fewer seconds than it is easy to conceive, for the mind
works with extraordinary rapidity when the stimulus
of deadly fear comes to aid it, and, at such times, the
limbs follow the dictates of the brain, even before the
soul of the man is well aware that a plan of any kind
has been formed in the mind.

A moment later, Chaling felt himself lifted clear
from off his feet, hard held by neck and arm, in the
grip of hands that were still invisible to him. His
head was slightly depressed, and, in a flash, he saw the

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DYAK 253

sodden jungle leaf- carpet drop from under him, saw
his feet dangling limply, saw the blade of his knife
glisten where it lay, and heard his neck crack again,
as the strain of supporting most of the weight of his
body was put upon it. He was swung lightly up-
wards into the lower branches of a tree, resisting and
struggling fiercely, but with as much effect as the
efforts of a bird might have had to free itself from the
grip of a hand that held it firmly. A pause followed,
during which Chaling's eyes started prominently from
his head, and his breath came in hard, sobbing gasps.
Then, once more he was swung upwards, and again
upwards, until he found himself upon a huge bough,
some fifty feet above the ground. He was not giddy,
and he balanced himself instinctively upon the limb of
the tree, on which he was now seated, for the Dyaks
have never quite deserted the arboreal habits of the
human race, and they are still as much at home among
the branches and tree- tops, as is possible for a people
who have learned to build huts upon the ground.

Then, suddenly, the grip upon his arm and neck
relaxed, and, a moment later, two vast hairy arms were
wound about his body, and a long, leathery face, like
a human countenance covered with a taut mask
fashioned from goldbeater's skin, was thrust forward
over dialing's shoulder. The hair on the iron arms
was red and shaggy ; the hair on the head was a
straggling mass of ruddy wires ; the nails were horny
tips to fingers that seemed made of steel ; the thumbs
were disproportionately small compared to the size of
the rest of the hand ; and the palms were rough and
hard where they touched Chali ng, so that they rasped

254 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

his flesh painfully. But it was the monster's face,
which was thrust round to look at him, that filled
Chaling with a fear and a loathing that made him
sick. It was the colour of bad parchment, with brutal
creases and wrinkles, that seemed to mark every evil
passion known to man. It measured nearly nine
inches across, and the eyes set in it, under lowering
brows and a low, narrow, animal forehead, were red
and angry, and filled with a horrible eagerness. The
small flat nose, with its two gaping nostrils, seemed
to point upwards, and Chaling found himself wonder-
ing whether the rain water fell into it, and thence
into the interior of the beast's head, when the weather
chanced to be wet. At a moment of the greatest
mental tension, it is always the most trivial and in-
congruous thoughts that hurry through the mind.
But it was the prominent, bestial mouth, the heavy
brutal jaw, the long yellow fangs, and the dwarfing
effect that the protruding muzzle had upon the rest
of the face, that made Chaling tremble with fear as
the monster thrust its head forward against his cheek,
and licked him with its rough hot tongue.

After this for a space, Chaling remembered little.
Later on, he had a confused recollection of climbing
from tree to tree, and of making his way along a maze
of branches, with the creature forcing him onwards,
swinging him now upwards, now downwards, now
back, now forward, and occasionally halting to crush
him to its hairy breast in a horrible embrace that
filled Chaling with loathing, and drove the breath from
his body, while his ribs cracked and groaned under
the pressure. How far they travelled on this strange

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DTAK 255

journey, Chaling never knew, but, when the sun was
beginning to sink, the captive found himself squatting
disconsolately upon a bough, high up among the tree-
tops, mechanically watching his keeper building a rude
nest with a skill that seemed more than half human.

The tree, in which they were perched, was a giant
of the forest, a good hundred feet of gray-white trunk
separating its lower branches from the ground, which was
densely covered with thick underwood. The brute had
chosen the very highest point available, and it now sat
breaking off large branches, with a sharp turn of its mighty
wrist, and laying them across and across one another,
until a rude platform, screened by the leaves, which still
grew upon the severed boughs, had been constructed.

While the beast was working quickly and deftly at
the construction of this nest, Chaling had time to
observe it more closely. It, or rather she, was a
full-grown female Mais — an orang-utan^ to use the
ludicrously misapplied Malay phrase, which has been
embodied into European languages without reference
to its proper meaning of 'jungle dweller,' and is usually
given more vowels and consonants than it can possibly
know what to do with. She measured nearly four
feet in height, and the spread of her arms, from finger
tip to finger tip, could not have been less than six feet.
Her legs were disproportionately short, and this caused
her to assume a semi-erect attitude as she moved about
among the branches, now and again walking on all-
fours with the knuckles and back of her hands, not
the palms, serving as the soles of her front feet.
Every now and then she paused in her work to cock
an evil, cunning, brutal eye at Chaling, and, though

256 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

he longed for escape, as he had never before longed
for anything, he knew that any attempt at flight
would be useless while that ugly glance was upon him.
She was very quiet even in her movements and ne^er
once did she articulate a sound ; and this complete
silence, in a creature so strangely, hideously human,
filled Chaling with an added dread, for which he found
it difficult to account.

When her work was completed, the Mais put out
a leisurely arm, and, seizing Chaling in an iron grip,
swung him into the nest without visible effort. Then
she threw herself down by his side, and pressed him
fiercely against her great hairy body. Her limbs
wound about him, crushing him with a strength of
which their owner was quite unconscious. The
rough, shaggy masses of hair forced their way into
Chaling's mouth and throat, choking him, and causing
him to cough painfully. The reek of the beast filled
his nostrils with a horrible odour, and the black jungle
ticks, with which she was covered, began to swarm
over the thin-skinned body of the man. Chaling felt
no hunger, for fear takes all longing from a man's
stomach, but his throat was parched with thirst, and,
since he dared not attempt to creep away to the
brook, which he heard babbling through the forest
beneath him, he was fain to lick the dew from the
leaves around the nest. The Mais was an uneasy
bedfellow, for she constantly woke up, or changed
her grip upon her victim, and now and again she tore
at her hairy hide with an energy that set the tree-top
rocking. At such times Chaling would be nearly
thrown out of the nest, and, long before morning, he

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DTAK 257

was black and blue with the bruises received from the
beast's jerking elbows. While she was awake, her
attentions to the man were unremitting, and Chaling
was driven to a state bordering upon frenzy, by her
horrible blandishments, and by the acute physical pain
which her clutching grip caused him. None the less,
exhausted nature would have its way, and Chaling
slept fitfully upon his rough couch, and, for a space,
till the inevitable nightmare seized him, he was able
to forget the miseries of his horrible slavery.

The dawn-wind, faintly breathing over the forest,
was gently swaying the tree-tops when Chaling finally
awoke, and the first thing that he saw was the hideous
head of the Mais pillowed upon his shoulder, blinking
sleepy, bleary eyes at him, through a tangle of sparse
red hair. To Chaling the beast represented all the
Fates and Furies rolled into one, and, when the full
horror of his helplessness broke freshly upon him, he
burst into a passion of weeping. The Mais snuggled
up against him, blowing hot, fetid breaths over his
face, and licking his cheeks, till they were sore, with
her rough, feverish tongue. Then she began picking
the ticks off him, causing him intense pain, for these
crab -shaped insects drive their prongs into nerve
centres, and any attempt to remove them by force is
an agony. Soon sharp despairing cries mingled with
Chaling's sobs and tears, and, at length, in a fit of
utter recklessness, he struck the Mais full in the face.
As his hand clapped upon her leathery countenance,
Chaling felt more keenly than ever how completely
impotent his little strength was against this hairy
giantess. The Mais snarled, and showed her teeth.

258 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

Then she apparently came to the conclusion that this
was a game, and presently the flat of her iron hand
told loudly on the man's tender face. It was a
stunning blow, though she only struck half-handedly,
without any attempt at real violence, and Chaling's
one eye was almost closed by it, and then came large
purple bruises, swelling rapidly, so that his face was
soon a shapeless, discoloured mass.

Then Chaling cowered down upon the rude plat-
form, and moaned aloud, and the Mais pawed him
mercilessly, with rasping hands, much as a child treats
a favourite and long-suffering kitten.

Later, when the sun began to rise, the Mais set off
on her daily roaming through the forest. She moved
along at a leisurely pace, swinging from tree to tree,
walking along branches, but always keeping at some
distance from the ground, and she took Chaling with
her wherever she went. The pinch of hunger was
gripping him now, and his mind dwelt most insistently
on the fat rice, and roots, the rich pork, and the fish,
and the condiments, which he knew were that day
cooking, in the house of Minang's parents. His heart,
no doubt, was very much in Minang's keeping, but his
stomach was a free agent, and it stimulated his imagina-
tion into constantly conjuring up alluring visions of the
sweet human viands for which his whole being now
craved unceasingly. The Mais seemed to feed upon
almost every fruit that grew, but she appeared to be
specially addicted to those which were most sour, acrid,
and astringent. Hunger drove Chaling to partake of
such food as the Mais permitted him to approach, and
it must be confessed that he made the acquaintance of

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DYAK 259

more unpleasant tastes, during the time that he was
with her, than he had hitherto known to exist in all
the world. But Chaling's sufferings did not end here.
The Mais never bathed in the streams which, every
now and again, Chaling could see glistening below
them, as he looked downwards through the tree-tops,
and often, for days together, she never drank at all.
The unfortunate Chaling was forced to do what the
Mais regarded as right and proper, wherefore he had
to slake his thirst as best he could, by lapping up the
water he occasionally found lying in the hollows of
trees, and in other similar uncleanly places. For the
rest, he sucked the dew-drenched leaves that, at night-
time, formed his bed-curtains, and prayed fervently, to
every Demon in the Dyak Mythology, for deliverance
from his terrible slavery.

Chaling never knew clearly how long his captivity
lasted. It seemed to him that the whole of his life
had been spent in wandering through the forest, with
his horrible companion. Ever since he could re-
member anything at all, so he sometimes thought, his
bones had been racked with aches, his skin had been
covered with abrasions, his stomach had been consumed
with importunate longings for food, and his heart filled
with a wild desire for escape. It would not have been
so difficult to bear, if only the Mais had not been
so horribly, so clumsily attentive to him. Doubtless,
with the kindest of intentions, she insisted upon
forcing the most repulsive objects down the man's
unwilling throat, nearly strangling him the while with
the brawny grip she fixed upon his neck. When she
waxed playful, and she was often a most hilarious

260 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

creature, she was really the worst of company, for she
had no notion of her own strength, and she bruised
and tore the man's soft body, tfith a cruel indifference
to the sufferings which she occasioned. She travelled
through the jungle in a very leisurely fashion, some-
times spending an hour or more upon one tree, before
quitting it for the next, and thus Chaling, as he sat
huddled up on a bough, like a sick bird, had many
hours at his disposal during which to mourn over the
hardness of his lot, and to plan wholly impracticable
schemes of revenge, and of escape.

One day, the Mais dragged Chaling down to the
ground, at a spot where there was a large brake of
bamboos, and began tearing up the great round stems,
in order to get at the edible shoots. Her giant hands
rent the shrieking bamboos, with as much ease as a
child might rend long grass, and Chaling, watching
her sullenly, saw herein the chance for which he was
always looking. He had long ago abandoned as
hopeless all idea of saving himself by flight, for the
Mais, he knew, had the legs of him in the jungle, and,
since he had no weapon, he could do nothing to render
her unable to pursue him. But, in the shivered
bamboos, Chaling thought that he saw, at last, a means
of supplying himself with a fairly good substitute for
a knife. He knew that the edge of a newly split
bamboo is as keen as tempered steel, and, in the
wreckage around him, he had a wide choice of weapons.
He selected two long splinters, which particularly
commended themselves to him on account of their
superior strength and sharpness, and, when, late in the
afternoon, the Mais quitted the bamboo-brake, and

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DYAK 261

again ascended into the trees, Chaling carried the two
fragments of wood, held cross-wise in his mouth, as he
climbed. £

The Mais made the nut-like nest, as usual, and, as
the night drew on, she composed herself to sleep, under
the covering of pandanus leaves with which she some-
times provided herself, for the purpose. Chaling lay
very still, feigning sleep, until the heavy breathing of
the unclean monster, at his side, showed him that the
Mais was slumbering profoundly. Then, moving with
extreme caution, he sat up, and very gently raised the
pandanus leaf from the beast's face. The moon was
near the full, and the pale rays, struggling through the
canopy of foliage overhead, showed Chaling the face of
the sleeping brute, as clearly as if it had been day.
The Mais lay upon her back, with arms and legs
extended widely, and her hideous, leathery face looked
strangely and most repulsively human. Her mouth was
wide open, and her evil-smelling breath came in heavy
snoring grunts, like that of a drunken man. Chaling
looked at her very carefully, for he knew that every-
thing depended upon no mistake being made, at this
critical moment. Like all jungle-dwellers, the Dyak
had a fair working knowledge of anatomy, and he
was anxious to make the incision he contemplated in
the exactly correct spot. For perhaps five minutes,
Chaling sat thus gazing at the upturned face of the
Mais, and gently running his light fingers along the
surface of the creature's extended throat. Then,
suddenly, putting out all his force, he drew the keen
edge of the bamboo swiftly and firmly across the
beast's neck, severing the jugular artery. The bamboo

(

262 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

knife was so sharp that, as is the case when a cut is a
very clean one, the Mais, for the moment, did not feel
a pang ; and Chaling had time to drop over the edge
of the nest-platform, before the creature was fairly
awake. Then the Mais leaped up, and started in
pursuit. A warm jet of blood burst downwards as
the animal looked over the edge of the nest at the
descending man, and the pungent, reeking stream
struck Chaling full in the face, temporarily blinding
him. He could hear the Mais crashing through the
branches above him, and giving vent to sick, thick
coughs. He could hear all the noises of the jungle
night plainly and distinctly, but for a moment he
could see nothing. He was now in an agony of fear,
and terror lent speed to his descent. Hardly knowing
how he did it, he half climbed, half fell through the
branches, and never paused until he felt the solid earth
once more beneath his feet. He halted then, for an
instant, but the sounds overhead, that told him that
the Mais was in pursuit, soon drove him again into
headlong panic-stricken flight.

All that night, and all the next day, Chaling made
his way through the forest, until, in the fulness of
time, he came out upon a track, which he recognised
as one that led to a village with which he was
acquainted. He spent the night in this place, and,
after eating as he had never eaten before, and obtaining
the loan of some old clothes, he next day pushed
forward to his own village.

On his arrival here, he at once sought the Headman,
and reported to him the extraordinary misfortune of
which he had been the victim. He came in time to

ELOPEMENT OF CHALING THE DYAK 263

save Minang from the suicide which, as befitted a
well-educated Dyalc girl, she had been by way of
contemplating, ever since her lover failed to put in an
appearance at the marriage feast, but his future parents-
in-law were not to be so easily satisfied. The im-
mutable Dyak customs provide punishment by fine for
recalcitrant fiancis^ and no excuse can be accepted in
extenuation or mitigation of the offence. Thus it
came about that the luckless Chaling found his sojourn
with the Mais almost as expensive as it had been un-
pleasant. It was in vain that he pleaded that he had
been the victim of circumstances over which he had had
no control ; for, as the Headman shrewdly remarked,
all the young men in the Dyak country would be
running away with the beasts of the forest, if thereby
they might avoid paying the price of their infidelities.
The girls of the village did their best to shame Minang
out of marrying Chaling, but in this attempt they
failed. What did it matter to her, she said, that
Chaling should have been forced to mate with a Mais,
whom he assured her that he had never loved ? Was
it not yet one more proof of his beauty and attractive-
ness that even the animals in the jungle fell in love
with him at first sight ? And would not these other
girls, who jeered at her, willingly forsake their own
miserable men-folk, if thereby they might win Chaling
for themselves ? So Minang and Chaling were married,
with great state, in accordance with the ancient Dyak
custom and ritual, and their after years were probably
of little interest to any one except themselves. The
Pinghulu of the Dyaks, when he told me the story,
said that he could remember Chaling, who was then a

264 STUDIES IN BROWN HUMANITY

very old man, being pointed out to him, in the far off
days, when the Penghulu himself was a child, and,
so far as he could recollect, there was nothing remark-
able in his appearance. That is the worst of your
hero of romance ; — he is usually so very commonplace
to look at.

THE END

Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

IN COURT AND KAMPONG :

Being Tales and Sketches of Native Life in the
Malay Peninsula.

By HUGH CLIFFORD

British Resident at Pahang.
Large Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. 6d.

The Athetueum.—" The chief aim is to portray character, to reveal to the European
thoughts, passions, and aspirations which unfold themselves but slowly even to him
who for long years has lived the life of his Asiatic associates in places remote from the
sound of Western civilisation. ... In this effort Mr. Clifford has achieved a consider-
able success ; and as he writes also in a bright style, which has a distinctly literary-
flavour, his work is not less welcome for the information which it gives than interesting
as a story-book."

The Speaker.—" Mr. Clifford undoubtedly possesses the gift of graphic description
in a high degree, and each one of these stories grips the reader's attention most
insistently. The whole book is alive with drama and passion ; but, as we have said,
its greatest charm lies in the fact that it paints in strikingly minute detail a state of
things which, whether for good or ill, is rapidly vanishing from the face of the
earth."

The Saturday Review.— " The chapters dealing with 'The East Coast' and
' Among Fisher Folk' have rarely, if ever, been surpassed as word-pictures."

The Pall Mall Gazette.— "These tales Mr. Clifford tells with a force and life-
likeness such as is only to be equalled in the stories of Rudyard Kipling. Take, for
irwtance, the gruesome story of the were-tiger, man by day and man-eater by night.
. . . Every one of these tales leaves its impression, dramatic yet lifelike. Moreover,
they are valuable as giving a picture of strange, distorted civilisation which, under
the influence of British residents and officials, will soon pass away or hide itself
jealously from the gaie of Western eyes."

The Glasgow Herald. — " Mr. Clifford's book is very welcome, and we cordially
recommend it for glimpses of strange ways of life and thought in a far-off corner of
the world."

Mr. T. P. O'Connor in The Weehly Sun.—" Mr. Clifford's book is the key to a
great, new, and intensely interesting kingdom of human beings and human
emotions."

The Birmingliam Daily Gazette.— 11 Has not only the charms of excellent style,
and quiet humour, but also the rarer attractions of complete novelty."

St. J antes 's Budget.— "This book has an indescribable fascination that holds the
reader enchanted . . . and many people will turn again and again to these pages
that are instinct with life and actuality."

GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET,
COVENT GARDEN, W.C.

Fifth Edition.

AN AFRICAN MILLIONAIRE:

Episodes in the Life of the Illustrious Colonel Clay.
By GRANT ALLEN.

With over Sixty Illustrations by Gordon Browne.
Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s.

The Times.— "Some of Mr. Grant Allen's recent fictions have offered rare oppor-
tunities for satire ; but the humour of his 'African Millionaire ' reminds us of the
sparkling stories he contributed to the Cornhill Magazine under the early editorship
of Mr. James Payn. Satire, science, dramatic power, and the ludicrous extravagance
of original fancies, are all pressed into his service, nor are the unparalleled adaptions
of the versatile Colonel Clay without some touch of genuine pathos. . . . The talent
is undeniable."

The Daily Chronicle.— ■" It is not often that the short story of this class can be
made as attractive and as exciting as are many of the Colonel's episodes. Let us be
thankful for these, and hasten to commend 'An African Millionaire ' to the notice of
all travellers. We can imagine no book of the season more suitable for an afternoon
in a hammock or a lazy day in the woods. And the capital illustrations help an
excellent dozen of stories on their way."

The Daily News.—" For resourcefulness, for sardonic humour, for a sense of the
comedy of the situation, and for pluck to carry it through, it would be difficult to find
a more entertaining scoundrel than Colonel Clay."

The Morning Post.—" A volume which, excepting to those devoid of humour, will
have afforded some wholly genuine amusement."

Mr. James Payn, in The Illustrated London News.—" When Mr. Grant Allen
is not elevating the human mind, but only instructing or amusing it, one knows few
pleasanter writers. He is equally at home with the scientific essay, or the short story,
and by no means holds a back seat as a novelist. This book is a good example of his
talents. It is only a collection of tales describing how a very rich man is again and
again victimised by the same adventurer, but it has not only plenty of dramatic
incident, but of shrewd and wise reflection, such as is seldom found in the modern
novel."

T/ie Queen.— "The interest of the book never flags, and it is perfectly clean and
wholesome ; no book of detective stories could be more suited for drawing-room
reading,"

GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET,

COVENT GARDEN, W.C.

OLD MAN'S" MARRIAGE.

By G. B. BURGIN.
Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s.

The Times.—" There is none to vie with Miss Wilks. It is a strong thing to say
that this female is the most interesting specimen of her class that has ever been
portrayed in fiction, but it is literally true."

The Speaker. — " Temperaments and incidents are deftly interwoven, and Mr.
Burgin may be congratulated upon having produced one of those books which are
not only entertaining in themselves, but which leave a good taste in the mouths of
their readers."

The Standard.—" Mr. Burgin'sbest qualities come to the front in ' " Old Man's "
Marriage.' . . . Miss Wilkes has nearly as much individuality as any one in the
story, which is saying a good deal, for reality seems to gather round all the characters
in spite of the romance that belongs to them as well . . . the story is fresh and full
of charm."

The Daily Telegraph.— "Si.x. Burgin's humour is both shrewd and kindly, and
his book should prove as welcome as a breath of fresh air to the weary readers of
realistic fiction."

Mr. Coulsok Kernahan, in the Star.—" ' "Old Man's" Marriage' is told with
such humour, high-spirit, simplicity, and straightforwardness that the reader is
amused and entertained from the first page to the last. Once I had begun it I had
to go on to the end ; when I put it down it was with a sigh to part with such excellent
company. ... As thoroughly enjoyable and racily written a story as has been
published for a long time."

Manchester Guardian.—" It would be difficult to speak too highly of the delicate
pathos and humour of this beautiful sketch of a choice friendship in humble life. . . .
A study at once simple and subtle and full of the dignity and sincerity of natural
man."

Birmingham Gazette.—" We pant for more books like ' " Old Man's " Marriage,'
and we hope our thirst may soon be assuaged."

Daily Mail.— "The gem of the book is the mule. Never since the days of
Rosinante was any animal so tenderly dealt with in fiction. Even Stevenson's
Modestine did not get her whim studied and her temperament psychologically
analysed as does this wonderful Miss Wilkes."

The Spectator. — "'Old Man' is a particularly admirable person, and 'Miss
Wilkes,' his mule, is a worthy companion. We know no more entertaining animal in
all the/auna of fiction. Mr. Burgin has a very pretty gift of humour."

By the same Author— THE CATTLE-MAN. 6s.

GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET,
COVENT GARDEN, W.C.

Now Ready. Price 3J. 6d. each, net.

GRANT ALLEN'S HISTORICAL GUIDES.

PARIS. FLORENCE.

THE CITIES OF BELGIUM.

VENICE.

Fcap. 8vo. Cloth.
{Other volumes will be announced shortly.}

Extract from Mr. GRANT ALLEN'S Introduction to
the Series: —

" / desire to supply the tourist who wishes to use his travel as a means
of culture with such historical and antiquarian information as
will enable him to understand and therefore to enjoy the architecture,
sculpture, painting, and minor arts of the town he visits."

Times. — "Good work in the way of showing students the right manner of
approaching the history of a great city. . . . These useful little volumes."

Morning Post.—* 1 That much-abused class of people, the tourists, have often been
taunted with their ignorance and want of culture t and the perfunctory manner in
which they hurry through, and * do ' the Art Galleries of Europe. There is a large
amount of truth, no doubt, but they might very well retort on their critics that noone
had come forward to meet their wants, or assist in dispelling their ignorance. No
doubt there are guide-books, very excellent ones in their way, but on all matters of
art very little better than mere indices ; something fuller was required to enable the
average man intelligently to appreciate the treasures submitted to his view. Mr.
Grant Allen has offered to meet their wants, and offers these handbooks to the public
at a price that ought to be within the reach of every one who can afford to travel at
all. The idea is a good one, and should insure the success which Mr. Allen
deserves."

Daily Telegraph.—" Mr. Grant Allen, as a traveller of thirty-five years' experience
in foreign lands, is well qualified to command success in the task he has set himself,
and nothing in the two volumes under notice Is more striking than the strong sense
conveyed of his powers of observation and the facility with which he describes the
objects of art and the architectural glories which he has met and lingered over. . . .
It would be a pity indeed were his assiduous researches and the fruits of his immense
experience, now so happily exemplified, to pass unnoticed either by * globe-trotters
or by students of art and history who have perforce to stay at home."

Queen. — " No traveller going to Florence with any idea of understanding its art
treasures can afford to dispense with Mr. Grant Allen's guide. He is so saturated
with information gained by close observation and close study. He is so candid, so
sincere, so fearless, so interesting, and his little book is so portable and so pretty."

Grant Allen's Guides are bound in green cloth, with rounded corners to
slip into the pockets.

GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET,
COVENT GARDEN, W.C.
4

Mr. GRANT RICHARDS'S PUBLICATIONS.

GRANT ALLEN.

AN AFRICAN MILLIONAIRE: Episodes in the Life of the
Illustrious Colonel Clay. With over 60 Illustrations, by Gordon
Browne. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. [Eighth Thousand.

THE EVOLUTION OF THE IDEA OF GOD : An Inquiry into
the Origins of Religions. Demy 8vo. Cloth. 20s. net.

LAURENCE ALMA TADEMA.

REALMS OF UNKNOWN KINGS : Poems. Fcap. 8vo. Paper
Covers. 2s. net. Buckram. 3s. net.

A. G. B. ATKINSON, M.A.

ST. BOTOLPH, ALDGATE : The Story of a City Parish. Com-
piled from the Record Books and other ancient documents, with
a Supplementary Chapter by the Vicar. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s.
net.

EDWARD CLODD.

PIONEERS OF EVOLUTION FROM THALES TO HUXLEY,
with an Intermediate Chapter on the Causes of Arrest of the Move-
ment. With Portraits in photogravure of Charles Darwin, Professor
Huxley, Mr. A. R. Wallace, and Mr. Herbert Spencer. Crown
8vo. Linen. 5s. net. [Second Edition.

GEORGE FLEMING.

LITTLE STORIES ABOUT WOMEN. Crown 8vo. Cloth.
3s. 6d.

R. MURRAY GILCHRIST.

A PEAKLAND FAGGOT : Tales told of Milton Folk. Fcap. 8vo.
Cloth. 2s. 6d.

LAURENCE HOUSMAN.

SPIKENARD: A Book of Devotional Love -Poems. With Cover
designed by the Author. Small 4to. Gilt. Paper Boards.
3s. od. net.

VICTOR HUGO.

HERN AN I : A Drama translated into English, with an Introduction

by R. Farquharson Sharp. Small 4to. Paper Boards.

3s. 6d. net.

EDWARD VERRALL LUCAS.
A BOOK OF VERSES FOR CHILDREN : An Anthology. With

Cover, Title-page, and end-papers designed in colours by F. D.

Bedford. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. [Third Edition.

GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET,
CO VENT GARDEN, W.C.

Mr. Grant Richards's Publications— Continued.

DUMPY BOOKS FOR CHILDREN,
i. The Flamp, The Ameliorator, and The Schoolboy's
Apprentice : Three Stories. By Edward Verrall Lucas.

2. Mrs. Turner's Cautionary Stories. Edited by Edward
Verrall Lucas. With end-papers designed by Mrs. Far-
miloe. i8mo. Cloth, is. 6d. each.

VERNON LEE.

LIMBO AND OTHER ESSAYS: with Frontispiece. Fcap. 8vo.
Buckram. 5s. net.

MRS. PERCY LEAKE.
THE ETHICS OF BROWNING'S POEMS. With Introduction
by the Bishop of Winchester. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 2s. 6d.

EUGENE LEE- HAMILTON.
THE INFERNO OF DANTE TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH
VERSE. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net.

RICHARD LE GALLIENNE.
RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM : A Paraphrase from several
Literal Translations. From the press of Messrs. T. and A. Con-
stable of Edinburgh. Long Fcap. 8vo. Parchment Cover. 5s.

A LIFE OF THE PRINCE.
1I.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES: An Account of his Career,
including his Birth, Education, Travels, Marriage and Home Life ;
and Philanthropic, Social, and Political Work. Royal 8vo. Cloth.
10s. 6d. With 100 Portraits and other Illustrations.

MAURICE MAETERLINCK.
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE : A Drama in Five Acts. Trans-
lated by Alfred Sutro. With Introduction by J. W. Mackail,
and Title-page designed by W. H. Margetson. Globe 8vo.
Half-buckram. 2s. 6d. net.

LEONARD MERRICK.
ONE MAN'S VIEW : A Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d.
THE ACTOR-MANAGER : A Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s.

ALICE MEYNELL.

THE FLOWER OF THE MIND: A Choice among the best Poems.
With Cover designed by Laurence IIousman. Crown 8vo.
Buckram. 6s.

GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET,
COVENT GARDEN, W.C.
6

Mr. Grant Richards's Publications — Continued.

w. t. stead.

REAL GHOST STORIES. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s.

W. J. STILLMAN.

THE OLD ROME AND THE NEW, AND OTHER STUDIES.
Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s.

WILL ROTHENSTEIN.

ENGLISH PORTRAITS: A Series of Lithographed Drawings.
With short Texts by Various Hands. In twelve parts, each in
a wrapper designed by the Artist. 2s. 6d. each net.

MARIE AND ROBERT LEIGHTON.

CONVICT 99: A Novel. With eight full -page Illustrations by
Stanley L. Wood. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d.

HELMUTH SCHWARTZE.

THE LAUGHTER OF JOVE : A Novel. With Cover designed by
W. H. Horton. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s.

EDWARD SPENCER (" Nathaniel Gubbins ").

CAKES AND ALE : A Memory of Many Meals ; the whole inter-
spersed with various recipes, more or less original, and anecdotes,
mainly veracious. With Cover designed by Phil May. Small
4to. Cloth. 5s. [Third Edition.

LOUISA SHORE.

HANNIBAL: A Drama. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s.net.

LAURENCE BINYON.

PORPI1YRION, AND OTHER POEMS. Crown 8vo. Buckram.
5-;. net.

FREDERIC BRETON.

TRUE HEART : A Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s.

GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET,
COVENT GARDEN, W.C

Mr. Grant Richards's Publications — Continued.

GEORGE EGERTON.
THE WHEEL OF GOD : A Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s.

H ALDAN E MACFALL.
THE BLACK VAGABOND : A Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s.

MARTIN LEACH WARBOROUGH,

TOM, UNLIMITED : A Story for Children. With Fifty Illustrations
by Gertrude Bradley. Globe 8vo. Cloth. 5s.

GEORGE BERNARD SHAW.

PLAYS PLEASANT AND UNPLEASANT. With Portrait of the
Author. Two vols. 5s. each.

DECKLES WILLSON.

THE TENTH ISLAND : Being some Account of Newfoundland, its
People, its Politics, and its Peculiarities. With an Introduction
by Sir William Whiteway, K.C.M.G., Premier of the Colony,
and an Appendix by Lord Charles Beresford. With Map.
Glol>e 8vo. Buckram. 3s. 6d.

R. S. WARREN BELL.

THE CUB IN LOVE: In Twelve Twinges. With six additional
Stories. With Cover designed by Maurice Greiffenhagen.
Tauchnitz Size. Paper Cover, is. 6d. Copies also obtainable
in cloth. 2s.

THE ETHICS OF THE SURFACE SERIES.
By Gordon Seymour. 16 mo. Buckram. 2s. each.

1. The Rudeness of the Honourable Mr. Leatherhead.

2. A Homburg Story.

3. Cui Bono?

GRANT RICHARDS, 9 HENRIETTA STREET,
COVENT GARDEN, W.C.

CATALOGUE OF BOOKS
PUBLISHED by Mr. GRANT
RICHARDS AT 9 HENRI-
ETTA STREET, COVENT
GARDEN, LONDON.

This List includes Books by Grant Allen,
Miss Alma Tadema, G. B. Burgin,
Edward Clodd, George Egerton, George
Fleming, R. Murray Gilchrist, Vernon
Lee, Eugene Lee-Hamilton, Richard le
Gallienne, Maurice Maeterlinck, Leonard
Merrick, Mrs. Meynell, IVill Rothenstein,
G. Bernard Shaw, IV. T. Stead, IV. J.
Stillman, and Sidney Webb.

For the convenience of
Booksellers a List of
these Books classified
according to price ap-
pears at the end of the
Catalogue.

Autumn, 1897

ALLEN, GRANT.

The Evolution of the Idea of God : an Inquiry
into the Origins of Religions. Demy 8vo. Cloth.
20s. net.

Grant Allen's Historical Guides :

Paris. [Ready.

Florence. „

The Cities of Belgium. ,,

Venice. [In preparation.

Rome. „

j>. 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6<1. each, net.

>d work in the way of showing students the fight manner of approaching the
history of a great city. . . . These useful little volumes." — Times.

ise who travel for the sake of culture will be well catered for in Mr. Grant
Allen's new series of historical guides. . . . There are few more satisfactory books
for a student who wishes to dig out the Paris of the past from the immense super-
incumbent mass of coffee-houses, kiosks, fashionable hotels, and other temples of

>;ion, beneath which it is now submerged. Florence is more easily du^
you have only to go into the picture galleries, or into the churches or nm
whither Mr. Allen's guide accordingly conducts you, and tells you what to look at
if you want to understand the art treasures of the city. The books, in a word,
explain rather than describe. Such books are wanted nowadays. . . . The more
sober-minded among tourists will be grateful to him for the skill with which the new
series promises to minister to their needs."— Scotsman.

kfr. Grant Allen, as a traveller of thirty-five years experience in foreign lands,
is well qualified to command success in the task he has set himself, and nothing in
the two volumes under notice is more striking than the strong sense conveyed of his
powers of observation and the facility with which he describes the objects of art and
the architectural glories which he has met and lingered over. ... It would be a
pity indeed were his assiduous researches and the fruits of his immense experience,
now so happily exemplified, to pass unnoticed either by 'globe trotters' or by
students of art and history who have perforce to stay at home. — Daily Telegraph.

" No traveller going to Florence with any idea of understanding its art tr--.
can afford to dispense with Mr. (irant Allen's guide. He is so saturated with in-
formation gained by close observation and close study. He is so candid, so sincere,
so fearless, so interesting, and his little book is so portable and so pretty." — Queen.

"That much abused class of people, the tourists, have often been taunted with
their ignorance and want of culture, and the perfunctory manner in which they hurry
through, and ' do ' the Art Galleries of Europe. There is a large amount of truth, no
doubt, but they might very well retort on their critics that no one had come forward to
meet their wants, or assist in dispelling their ignorance. No doubt there are guide-
books, very excellent ones in their way, but on all matters of art very little better than
mere indices ; something fuller was required to enable the average man intelligently to
appreciate the treasures submitted to his view. Mr. Grant Allen has offered to meet
their wants, and offers these handbooks to the public at a price that ought to be with-
in the reach of every one who can afford to travel at all. The idea is a good one, and
should insure the success which Mr. Allen deserves." — Morning Post.

" Not only admirable, but also, to the intelligent tourist, indispensable. . . . Mr.
Allen has the artistic temperament. . . . With his origins, his traditions, his art
criticisms, be goes to the heart of the matter, is outspoken concerning those things he
despises, and earnest when describing those in which his soul delights. . . . The
books art genuinely interesting to the ordinary reader, whether he have travelled
or not, and unlike the ordinary guide-book may be read with advantage both before
and after the immediate occasion of their use. ' —Birmingham Gaxette.

Grant Richards s Publications

An African Millionaire : Episodes in the Life of
the Illustrious Colonel Clay. With over Sixty Illus-
trations by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo. Cloth.
6s. [Fifth Edition.

"It is not often that the short story of this class can be made as attractive and
as exciting as are many of the Colonel's episodes. Let us be thankful for these, and
hasten to commend ' An African Millionaire ' to the notice of all travellers. We can
imagine no book of the season more suitable for an afternoon in a hammock or a
lazy day in the woods. And the capital illustrations help an excellent dozen of stories
on their way." — Daily Chronicle.

" For resourcefulness, for sardonic humour, for a sense of the comedy of the situa-
tion, and for pluck to carry it through, it would be difficult to And a more entertain-
ing scoundrel than Colonel Clay."— Daily News.

" A volume which, excepting to those devoid of humour, will have afforded some
wholly genuine amusement." — Morning Post.

" The interest of the book never flags, and it is perfectly clean and wholesome, no
book of detective stories could be more suited for drawing-room reading."— Queen.

" When Mr. Grant Allen is not elevating the human mind, but only instructing or
amusing it, one knows few pleasanter writers. He is equally at home with the
scientific essay, or the short story, and by no means holds a back seat as a novelist.
This book is a good example of his talents. It is only a collection of tales describing
how a very rich man is again and again victimised by the same adventurer, but it
has not only plenty of dramatic incident, but of shrewd and wise reflection, such as
is seldom found in the modern iftvel."— Mr. James Payn, in the Illustrated London
News.

ALMA TADEMA, LAURENCE.

Realms of Unknown Kings : Poems. Fcap. 8vo.
Paper Covers. 2s. net. Buckram. 3s. net.

BELL, R. S. WARREN.
(See Henrietta Volumes.)

BURGIN, G. B.

" Old Man's " Marriage : A Novel. (A Sequel to
"The Judge of the Four Corners.") Crown 8vo.
Cloth. 6s.

Mr. Burgin's best qualities come to the front in ' " Old Man's" Marriage.' . . .
Miss Wilkes has nearly as much individuality as any one in the story, which is saying
a good deal, fur reality seems to gather round all the characters in spite of the
romance that belongs to them as well ... the story is fresh and full of charm."—
Standard.

" Mr. Burgin's humour is both shrewd and kindly, and his book should prove as
welcome as a breath of fresh air to the weary readers of realistic fiction."— Daily
TeUgrafih.

"'Old Man's' Marriage is told with such humour, high-spirit, simplicity, and
straightforwardness that the reader is amused and entertained from the first page to
the last. Once I had begun it I had to go on to the end *, when I put it down
it was with a sigh to part with such excellent company. . . . As thoroughly enjoy-
able and racily written a story as has been published for a long time."— Mr. Coulson
Kkrnahan in the Star.

" It would be difficult to speak too highly o( the delicate pathos and humour of
this beautiful sketch of a choice friendship in humble life. ... A study at once
simple and subtle and full of the dignity and sincerity of natural man."— Manchester
Guardian.

Grant Richards s Publications

CLIFFORD, HUGH (British Resident at Pahang).

In Court and Kampong : being Tales and Sketches
of Native Life in the Malay Peninsula. Large
Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. 6d.

" The chief aim is to portray character, to reveal to the European thoughts, passions,
and aspirations which unfold themselves but slowly even to him who for long years
has lived the life of his Asiatic associates in places remote from the sound of western
civilisation. . . . In this effort Mr. Clifford has achieved a considerable success ; and
as he writes also in a bright style, which has a distinctly literary flavour, his work i>
not less welcome for the information which it gives than interesting as a story-
book." — A theturum.

" Mr. Clifford undoubtedly possesses the gift of graphic description in a high
degree, and each one of these stories grips the reader's attention most insistently.
The whole book is alive with drama and passion ; but, as we have said, its greatest
charm lies in the fact that it paints in strikingly minute detail a state of things which,
whether for good or ill, is rapidly vanishing from the face of the earth." — Speaker.

" Tti Clifford tells with a force and life-likeness such as is only to be

equalled in the stories of Kudyard Kipling. Take, for instance, the gruesome st.«r\
of the were-tiger, man by day and man-eater by night. . . . Every one of these tales
leaves its impression, dramatic yet lifelike. Moreover, they are valuable as giving
je, distorted civilisation which, under the influence of Hritish
residents ami officials, will soon pass away or hide itself jealously from the gaze of
:i eyes." — Pall Mall Gau

CLODD, EDWARD.

Pioneers of Evolution from Thales to Huxley,

with an intermediate chapter on the Causes of Arrest
of the Movement. With portraits in photogravure
of Charles Darwin, Professor Huxley, Mr. A. R.
Wallace, and Mr. Herbert Spencer. Crown 8vo.
Linen. 5s. net. [Second Edition.

; ' We arc always glad to meet Mr. Edward Clodd. He is never dull ; he is a:
well informed, and he says what he has to say with clearness and Incision. . . . The
interest ( lodd attempts to show the part really played in the growth

of the doctrine of evolution by men like- \ srin, Huxley, and Spencer. Mr.

Clodd clears away prevalent misconceptions as to the work of these modern pioneers.
Lilly does he | >cncer the credit which is his due, but which is often

<-nly awarded to Darwin. Mr. Clodd does not seek in the least to lower 1 1
from the lofty pedestal which he rightly occupies ; he only seeks to show precisely why
he deserves to occupy such a position. We commend the lxx>k to those who want to
know what evolution really means ; but they should be warned beforehand that they
have to tackle strong meat."— Times.

"The goal to which Mr. Clodd leads us in so masterly a fashion in the present
volume is but the starting-point of fresh achievements, .uul, in due course, fresh
theories. Hi« book furnishes an important contribution to a liberal education."—
Daily Chronicle.

I icre is no better book on the subject for a general reader, and while its matter

is largely familiar to professed students of science, and indeed to most men who are

well read, no one could go through the book without being both refreshed and newly

instructed by its masterly survey of the growth of the most powerful idea of modem

Scotsman.

DUMPY BOOKS FOR CHILDREN.

i. The Flamp, the Ameliorator, and the
Schoolboy's Apprentice : Three Stories. By

Ldward Verrall Lucas.
5

Grant Richards s Publications

2. Mrs. Turner's Cautionary Stories. Edited,
with a Chapter on Bad and Good Children, by
Edward Verrall Lucas.

With end-papers designed by Mrs. Farmiloe. i8mo.
Cloth, is. 6& each.

EGERTON, GEORGE.

Detached : a Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s.

\In preparation.

ETHICS OF THE SURFACE SERIES.

i. The Rudeness of the Honourable Mr.
Leatherhead.

2. A Homburg Story.

3. Cui Bono.

By Gordon Seymour. i6mo. Buckram. 2 s. each.

"The stories are remarkable for their originality, their careful characterisation,
their genuine thoughtfulness, and the sincerity of their purpose. They certainly
open up a fresh field of thought on the problems set by the philosopher of the super-
ficial, problems which, though they seem to lie on the surface, strike their roots deep
down into human life ; and they make us think for ourselves (though perhaps some-
what gropingly), which is more than can be said for the genera] run of modern
novels. — Pall Mall Gazette.

" An able and well written little bit of fiction. . . . Amongst the short descriptive
portions of the hook there are some excellent examples of graceful prose, and if the
dialogues occasionally resolve themselves into disquisitions on life and society too
elaborate for the reader who is chiefly concerned to get the story, they will repay the
reader who can appreciate the analysis of delicate shades of thought and feeling.' —
Aberdeen Free Press.

"The book is altogether an ingenious one, and is also interesting as being a kind
of modern revival of the old-time ' moral tales' and other old-fashioned ways of com-
bining instruction with entertainment."— Perthshire Advertiser.

FLEMING, GEORGE.

Little Stories about Women. Crown 8vo. Cloth.
3s. 6d.

"All novel readers must welcome the decision which has caused these stories, many
of which are gems, to appear in volume form. . . . Story is hardly the name to em-
ploy in the case of these impressionist pictures. They have the suggestive merit of
the school and none of its vagueness." — Morning Post.

" It is impossible to read ' Little Stories about Women ' without a feeling of blank
astonishment that their author should be so very little more than a name to the read-
ing public. ... It is difficult to imagine anything better in its way— and its way is
thoroughly modern and up to date — than the first of the collection, ' By Accident.'
It is very short, very terse, but the whole story is suggested with admirable art.
There is nothing unfinished about it, and the grip with which the carriage accident
which opens it is presented never relaxes." — World.

GILCHRIST, R. MURRAY.
(See Sylvan Series.)

Grant Richards s Publications

HENRIETTA VOLUMES, THE

The Cub in Love : in Twelve Twinges ; with Six
additional Stories. By R. S. Warren Bell. With
Cover by Maurice Greiffenhagen. Tauchnitz size,
is. 6d. (Copies also obtainable in Cloth. 2s.)

" Light and amusing withal is Mr. Warren Bell's sketch of a very young man
suffering from the bitter-sweet of an unrequited affection. . . . The Cub seems to be
a near relation of Dolly (of the ' Dolly Dialogues '). and the sprightliness of his
dialogue makes him worthy of the kinship." — Pall Mall Gazette.

" Under the title 'The Cub in Love' Mr. Grant Richards sends out the first of
a series of light stories to be styled ' The Henrietta Volumes.' The writer is Mr.
R. S. Warren Bell, and his bright colloquial style, lightened by flashes of wit and
abundant humour, makes this story of the love-sickness of a healthy well-to-do young
Englishman infinitely entertaining. . . . The book makes excellent reading for
travelling or a holiday, or, indeed, for any occasion on which amusement is the thing
desired. If the subsequent volumes of the Henrietta series are up to this standard,
there need be no question of their success." — Scotsman.

"This is one of the most brightly written books we have read for some time. . . .
We cannot conceive a more enjoyable book for a couple of hours' reading at the sea-
ning TeUgra}h.

H.R.H. the Prince of Wales: an Account of His
Career, including his Birth, Education, Travels,
Marriage and Home Life, and Philanthropic, Social,
and Political Work. Royal 8vo. Cloth. 7s. 6d.
With over Sixty Portraits and other Illustrations.

MRS. PERCY.

The Ethics of Browning's Poems. With Intro-
duction by the Bishop of Winchester. Fcap. 8vo.
Cloth. 2s. 6d.

LEE, VERNON.

Limbo and other Essays: with Frontispiece.
Fcap. 8vo. Buckram. 5 s. net.

"The brilliant and versatile writer who adopts the pseudonym of Vernon Lee
affords a dainty feast to her readers in this charming little volume." — Times.

! arm, that 'delicate and capricious foster-child of leisure,' Vernon Lee's
latest work, small as it Is, is the equal of anything that she has yet produced." —
Morning Post.

"This little volume might be called a manual of the cultivated soul adventuring
among masterpieces of art and natural beauties. It brings to the enjoyment of these
a power of association which traverses seas and years, and refreshes the mind with
images summoned from the recesses of memory. They are pitched in a pleasant
conversational way, frankly, even daringly, personal, and are strewn with vivid
descriptions of Italian scenes and places. ... A quiet strain of genuine feeling and

Snuine discernment runs through these essays, and it would be thankless to deny
eir charm as companions for a summer afternoon." — Manchester Guardian.
" ' Limbo and other Kssays ' is amongst the most welcome of recent books. . . .
Few essayists see so many beautiful things as Vernon Lee, and fewer still, having
seen them, say so many beautiful things about them."- Mr. Richard le Gallienne
in the Star.

Grant Richards s Publications

LEE-HAMILTON, EUGENE.

The Inferno of Dante translated into English
Verse. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 5s.

LE GALLIENNE, RICHARD.

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam : a Paraphrase from
several Literal Translations. From the press of
Messrs. T. and A. Constable of Edinburgh. Long
Fcap. 8vo. Parchment. 5s. Also a very limited
Edition on Japanese vellum, numbered and signed
by the author. 15s. net.

LEIGHTON, MARIE CONNOR, and ROBERT
LEIGHTON.

Convict 99: a Novel. With Eight full-page Illus-
trations by Stanley L. Wood. Crown 8vo. Cloth.
3s. 6d.

LOWNDES, FREDERIC SAWREY.

Bishops of the Day : a Biographical Dictionary of
the Archbishops and Bishops of the Church of
England, and of All Churches in Communion
therewith throughout the World. Fcap. 8vo.
Cloth. 5s.

" While the assembly of nearly 200 Bishops of the Anglican Communion at the
Lambeth Conference makes the publication of the volume at the present time
especially opportune, Mr. Lowndes's work is likely to command a more permanent
interest. It gives a full and lucid sketch of the career of each Bishop, without any
suggestion ofpartisan bias on the part of the author." — Times.

" Few works of reference could be more acceptable to Churchmen of the present
time. . . . Plenty of dates of the right sort, as well as matters of more human
interest. " — Guardian.

" The work is thoroughly up to date, as one may see from the Episcopal events of
1896 and 1897 here recorded. It abounds in personal incidents and anecdotes not to
be found elsewhere, and evidently derived from original and accredited sources. . . .
Much valuable information on Church matters generally incidental to Episcopal
administration.*' — Morning Post.

11 Mr. Lowndes has spared no pains to make his compendium as perfect as
possible. . . . This book is, as far as we can know, the first of the kind that has
been published, and supplies, in good time, a want that would have soon become
urgent. " — Standard.

" Valuable for reference on account of much of the information contained in the
neatly got-up volume being supplied by the prelates themselves."— World.

" The book should be bought and read at once. There is no Churchman whom it
will not interest, and it contains a sufficiency of blank spaces to admit of MS. addi-
tions, which may record the inevitable changes brought about by death or by
translation. Mr. Lowndes deserves our very cordial thanks for a piece of work
which few would have undertaken, and none could have achieved more perfectly." —
Sheffield Daily Telegraph.

Grant Richards s Publications

LUCAS, EDWARD VERRALL.

A Book of Verses for Children : an Anthology.
With Cover, title-page, and end-papers designed
in colours by F. D. Bedford. Crown 8vo. Cloth.
6s.

''The principle of this Anthology, Mr. Lucas explained at length in the Fort-
nightly Rcvinv for September 1896, in an article entitled ' Some Notes on Poetry for
Children.' The Daily Chronicle, commenting in a leading article on thiv
•Very wise, as well as very witty notes they are. . . . If the new 'Child's An-
thology ' is going to be up to sample, we should like to subscribe to a copy in advance.
. . . Why should not Mr. Lucas compile it himself? No one, clearly, is better fitted
for the ta

(See also Dumpy Books for Children.)

MAETERLINCK, MAURICE.

Aglavaine and Selysette : a Drama in Five Acts.
Translated by Alfred Sutro. With Introduction by
J. W. Mackail, and Title-page designed by W. H.
Margetson. Globe 8vo. Half-buckram. 2s. 6d. net.

" To read the play is to have^ one's sense of beauty quickened and enlarged, to be
touched by the inward and spiritual grace of things. . . . Mi. Sutro is the most
i curious, and at the same time the most f translators; not content

with reproducing the author's thought, he strives after the same effect of language —
the pi. 1 the dying cadence, the Maeterlincked sweetness long drawn out.

And more often than not he succeeds, — which is saying a good deal when one con-
the enormous difficulties of the task."— Mr. A. B. Walklev, in the Speaker.

" The book is a treasury of beautiful things. No one now writing loves beauty as
M Maeterlinck does. Sneer, essential beauty has no such lover. He will have
nothing else.'' — Academy

" Mr. Alfred Sutro's careful and delicate translation of Mr. Maurice Maeterlinck's
new play gives readers of English every opportunity of appreciating a work which,
so to .peak, 1 ,f the century. . . . The book, fcpl the

best yet published by which an English-speaking stranger to M. Maeterlinck could
make his acquaintance." — Scotsman.

MERRICK, LEONARD.

One Man's View : a Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth.
3s. 6d.

■ <1 over which we could at a pinch fancy ourselves sitting up till the small
hours. . . . The characters are realised, the emotion is felt and communicated." —
Daily Chronicle.

" An uncommonly well written story. . . . The men in the book are excellent, and
the hero ... is an admirable portrait.'' — Standard.

itiard Merrick's work is exceptionally good : his style is literary, he has

haracter, and he can touch on delicate matters without being coarse or

View' is keenly interesting. . . . 'On-

e rare books in which, without a superfluous touch, each character

stands out clear and individually. It holds the reader's attention from first to last."—

Guardian.

" Mr. Merrick's fascinating story — a story written in a vivacious style, containing
many humorous and pathetic passages, and pervaded throughout by a high and

Cure tone. . . . There is not a dull passage in th« he character of the

rave, unselfish, magnanimous b.r mirably drawn." — Aberdeen Free Press.

Grant Richards s Publications

MEYNELL, ALICE.

The Flower of the Mind : a Choice among the
best Poems. With Cover designed by Lawrence
Housman. Crown 8vo. Buckram. 6s.

" Partial collections of English poems, decided by a common subject or bounded
by the dates and periods of literary history, are made more than once in ever>
and the makers are safe from the reproach of proposing their own personal taste u a
guide for the reading of others. But a general Anthology gathered from the whole
of English literature — the whole from Chaucer to Wordsworth — by a gatherer intent
upon nothing except the quality of poetry, is a more rare attempt." — Extract from
Introduction.

ROTHENSTEIN, WILL.

English Portraits : a Series of Lithographed
Drawings. With short texts by various hands.

Part I. — Sir Frederick Pollock ; Mr. Thomas

Hardy.
Part II.— Sir F. Seymour Haden; Mr. William

Archer.
Part III. — Rt. Rev. Dr. Creighton, Bishop of

London ; Marchioness of Granby.
Part IV.— Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, P.C., M.P. ; Mr.

John Sargent, R.A.
Part V.— Mr. W. E. Henley; Mr. A. W. Pinero.
Part VI.— Miss Ellen Terry ; Mr. Sidney Colvin.
[ These parts are now ready.

In Twelve Parts, each in a Wrapper arranged by the Artist. 2s. 6d.
each, net ; or, the subscription to the Series of Twelve, post free with
a Case for binding, designed by the Artist, 30s. net.

" Admirably life-like, . . . and the style of publication makes it very attractive."
— Speaker.

"The drawings are lithographs, rough sketches rather than elaborate drawings, but
they show that Mr. Rothenstein has thoroughly mastered his method and knows how
to use it with most commendable self-restraint. They are admirable examples of the
style of drawing which he has made his own, and which has much to recommend it.
The drawings are accompanied by the briefest personal paragraphs."— Scotsman.

" The portraits, which are of a large portfolio size, are vivid likenesses, and their
ipearance is a gratifying indication of the revival of lithography in fine art." —
berdeen Free Press.

" The introductory examples fulfil to the full the promises made in the publisher s
announcements, and it is certain that the series will be keenly appreciated by art

lovers." — Dundee Advertiser.

SCHWARTZE, HELMUTH.

The Laughter of Jove : a Novel. Crown 8vo.
Cloth. 6s.

Grant Richards s Publications

SEYMOUR, GORDON.

(See Ethics of the Surface Series.)

SHAW, GEORGE BERNARD.

Plays, Pleasant and Unpleasant.

I. Unpleasant
II. Pleasant.

These Volumes will contain all Mr. Shaw's Dramatic
work, acted and unacted, with special Introductions,
and Prefaces to Each Play. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth.
5 s. each.

(See also Politics in 1 896.)

I )RE, ARABELLA and LOUISA.
Poems by A. and L. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net.

SPENCER, EDWARD ("Nathaniel Gubbins.")

Cakes and Ale : a Memory of Many Meals ; the
whole interspersed with various recipes, more or
less original, and anecdotes, many veracious. With
cover designed by Phil May. Small 4to. Cloth. 5s.

[Third Edition.

:xx>k from which every restaurant-keeper can, if he will, get ideas enough to
make a fortune. Sportsmen, stock-brokers and others with large appetites, robust
yet sensitive palates, and ample means, will find it invaluable when they are ordering
the next little dinner for a select party of male friends." — Saturday Revieiv.

"Exceedingly readable, clever, and, moreover, highly informative. . . . From
racy chapter to racy chapter the reader is irresistibly carried on. . . . The mistress
tiouse will read it carefully for the sake of the valuable recipes and hints, and
mine host will esteem it for the smart style in which it is written, and for the
plenitude of humour displayed in anecdote, story, and reminiscence." — Dundee
Advertiser*

I low me to say that it is a little book on a great subject that deserves to
occupy an honourable place in every library, on the same shelf as Kettner's ' Book of
the Table,' Sala's 'A Thin I 'K>k,' and perhaps that over-praised but un-

doubtedly entertaining da nomy as a Fine Art,' by Brillat-Savarin." —

Spotting Life.

"This little volume should have its place among the wedding presents of .every
bride."— Lady s Pictorial.

" There are many useful hints on table matters, and the recipes are^all eminently
practical. No country house should be without it."— Guardian.

Grant Richards s Publications

stead, w. T.

Real Ghost Stories: A Revised Reprint of the
Christmas and New Year Numbers of the
"Review of Reviews," 1891-92. With new Intro-
duction. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s.

STILLMAN, W. J.

The Old Rome and the New, and Other
Studies. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s.

SYLVAN SERIES, THE

A Peakland Faggot : Tales told of Milton Folk.
By R. Murray Gilchrist. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 2s. 6&

" Not only are the sketches themselves full of charm and real literary value, but
the little volume is as pleasant to the eye and to the touch as its contents are
stimulating to the imagination. . . . We do not envy the person who could lay down
the book without feeling refreshed in spirit by its perusal. . . . We cannot give our
readers better counsel than in advising them to procure without delay this charming
and cheery volume." — Speaker.

"We have no hesitation in saying that this is the very best work which Mr.
Gilchrist has given us. As studies of Black Country character it is superb. In fact
he is a master of our feelings and emotions in this daintily produced little volume, and
* A Peakland Faggot ' will solidify that reputation which he has been steadily building
up of late years. The style is thoroughly poetic . . . Our hearty congratulations to
Mr. Murray Gilchrist upon this performance — the magic he has used u the magic of
true genius." — Birmingham Gazette.

" The writer who gives us glimpses into the psychology of the poor and illiterate
ought always to be welcome. . . . Mr. Murray Gilchrist has introduced us to a new
world of profound human interest."— Mr. T. P. O'Connor, in the Graphic.

" I have read no book outside Mr. Hardy's so learned in such minutiae of country
'wit' and sentiment. "—Mr. Richard lb G allien ne, in the Star.

TROUBRIDGE, LADY.

Paul's Stepmother, and One Other Story.
With Frontispiece by Mrs. Annie Hope. Crown
8vo. Cloth. 3 s. 6d.

"There is a fine natural interest in both these stories, and Lady Troubridge
recounts them so well and gracefully that to the critical reader this interest is greatly
enhanced." — Dundee Advertiser.

" It is with a genuine feeling of pleasure that the reader will linger over ' Paul's
Stepmother,' a story that one is inclined to wish were longer. . . . The pathos of the
situation is treated with real feeling, and there is not a discordant note throughout
the story. . . . Both stories are marked as the work of a fine and cultured writer.'
—Weekly Sun.

TURNER, ELIZABETH.

(See Dumpy Books for Children.)
12

Grant Richards' s Publications

WALDSTEIN, LOUIS, M.D.

The Subconscious Self and its Relation to
Education and Health. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth.
3s. 6d.

WARBOROUGH, MARTIN LEACH.

Tom, Unlimited : A Story for Children. With
Fifty Illustrations by Gertrude Bradley. Globe
8vo. Cloth. 5 s.

WEBB, SIDNEY.

Labour in the Longest Reign (1837 -1897).

Issued under the Auspices of the Fabian Society,
ap. 8vo. Cloth, is.

is, considering the source from which it comes, a singularly temperate and
. iew of the changes in the lot of the labourer which the reign has brought." —
Scotsman.

■1 r. Sidney Webb has set forth some expert and telling comparisons between the
condition of the working-classes in 1837 and 1897. His remarks on wages, on the
irregularity of employment, on hours of labour, and on the housing of the poor, are
worthy of earnest consideration." — Daily Mail.

WHELEN, FREDERICK (Editor).

Politics in 1896. With Contributions by H. D.
Traill, D.C.L. ; H. W. Massingham ; G. Bernard
Shaw; G. W. Steevens ; H. W. Wilson; Captain
F. N. Maude; Albert Shaw and Robert Donald.
Globe 8vo. Cloth. 3s. net.

r more reasons than one Mr. Whelen's Political Annual, of which the present
ae, deserves a welcome. Not only does it constitute a handy work of
referc: Irs merely enumerating the political wants of the past year

light in which they are regarded by various shades of public opinion, but it
calls for recognition as a record of the development of political thought, that, if
regularly issued, will be of value to the future historian. . . . The book has .

understand the various ideas actuating contending parties,
and such readers will certainly find entertaining matter in the several contrilm

: . Whelen has undertaken a difficult task, but the volume which he has just
issued is a very interesting and useful retrospect, and all who are interested in con-
temporary affairs will be glad to know that it is intended to be an annual. The plan
;jle and comprehensive. ... Mr. Whelen has done a useful work in starting
! venture, and we wish him all success." — Daily Chronicle.

"Those who can afford it, which includes at least every Labour Club, ought to
a copy for their library." — Mr. Keir Hakdie, in the Labour Leader.

Grant Richards s Publications

WHITTEN, WILFRED.

The London - Lover's Enchiridion : An Anth-
ology of Prose and Poetry inspired by London,
With an Introduction. Crown 8vo. Buckram.
6s. \In Preparation.

WILLSON, BECKLES.

The Tenth Island ; Being some Account of New-
foundland ; its People, its Politics, and its Peculiari-
ties. With an Introduction by Sir William Whiteway,
KX.M.G., Premier of the Colony, and an Appendix
by Lord Charles Beresford. Globe 8vo. Buckram.
3s. 6d. With Map.

Grant Richards s Publications

1s.

Labour in the Longest Reign (1837-1897).

1s. 6d.

The Cub in Love. (Paper. )

Dumpy Books for Children.

I. The Flamp, and other Stories.
II. Mrs. Turners Cautionary Stories.

2s.

The Ethics of the Surface Series.

I. The Rudeness of the Honourable Mr. Leather-
head.
II. A Homburg Story.
III. Cui Bono.

The Cub in Love. (Cloth.)

2s. net.

Realms of Unknown Kings.

28. 6d.

A Peakland Faggot.

The Ethics of Robert Browning's Poetry.

2s. 6d. net.

English Portraits. (Twelve Parts.)
Aglavaine and Selysette.

3s. net.

Realms of Unknown Kings. (Buckram.)
Politics in 1896.

3s. 6d.

The Tenth Island : An Account of New-
foundland.
Convict 99.

The Subconscious Self.
Little Stories about Women.
One Man's View.
Paul's Stepmother.

Grant Richards s Publications

3s. 6d. net.

Grant Allen's Historical Guides.

I. Paris.

II. Florence.

III. Cities of Belgium.

IV. Venice. [In Preparation.
V. Rome. [In Preparation.

5s.

Real Ghost Stories.

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

The Old Rome and the New.

Tom, Unlimited.

The Inferno of Dante translated into English

Verse.
Cakes and Ale.
Bishops of the Day.
Plays, Pleasant and Unpleasant.

I. Pleasant.
II. Unpleasant.

5s. net.

Poems by A. and L.
Pioneers of Evolution.
Limbo, and other Essays.

68.

The Flower of the Mind.

A Book of Verses for Children.

The Laughter of Jove.

" Old Man's " Marriage.

An African Millionaire.

7s. 6d.

H.R.H. the Prince of Wales
In Court and Kampong.

20s. net.

The Evolution of the Idea of God.
16

RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT

TO—*- 202 Main Library

LOAN PERIOD 1
HOME USE

ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS

RENEWALS. CALL (4 15) 642-3406 °"' H "-""P ■ ^R-

DUE AS STAMPED BELOW

. .. —

.fflAY 2 Z

■

DEC 1 8 YV\A

Jllhi

n '

HA* 19

1991

L/UU ± ■■ IOvJT

nun

.. gtiOV 2 2 Of

X LO

» cc a

- 1 ■ .

7 ^

i -

+ *" "

- 2?

" 2 jui

»u

Mil* U (J LUU I

fit

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY
FORM NO. DD6, 60m, 1/83 BERKELEY, CA 94720

JB 28770

GENERAL LIBRARY • U.C. BERKELE'

■llllllll

8000^58521,

732931

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY