"Sails Of Silk And Ropes Of Sendal," And Poetic
Noiseless Movements Only Would Suit These Lovely Malacca Straits.
This
is one of the very few days in my life in which I have felt mere living
to be a luxury, and what it is to be akin to seas and breezes, and
birds and insects, and to know why nature sings and smiles.
We had been towing a revenue cutter with stores for a new lighthouse,
and cast her adrift at the point where we anchored, and the Resident
and Mr. Daly went ashore with thirteen policemen, and I had a most
interesting and instructive conversation with Mr. Syers. Afterward we
steamed along the low wooded coast, and then up the Langat river till
we came to Bukit Jugra, an isolated hill covered with jungle. The
landing is up a great face of smooth rock, near the top of which is a
pretty police station, and higher still, nearly concealed by bananas
and cocoa-palms, is the large bungalow of the revenue officer and
police magistrate of Langat. We saw Mr. Ferney, the magistrate, landed
the police guard, and then steamed up here for a council.
Mr. Syers went ashore, and returned with the Sultan's heir, the Rajah
Moussa, a very peculiar-looking Malay, a rigid Mohammedan, who is
known, the Resident says, to have said that when he becomes Sultan he
"will drive the white men into the sea." He works hard, as an example
to his people, and when working dresses like a coolie. He sets his face
against cock-fighting and other Malay sports, is a reformer, and a
_dour_, strong-willed man, and his accession seems to be rather dreaded
by the Resident, as it is supposed that he will be something more than
a mere figure-head prince. He is a Hadji, and was dressed in a turban
made of many yards of priceless silk muslin, embroidered in silk, a
white baju, and a long white sarong, and full white trousers - a
beautiful dress for an Oriental. He shook hands with me. I wish that
these people would not adopt our salutations, their own are so much
more appropriate to their character.
The yacht is now lying at anchor in a deep coffee-colored stream, near
a picturesque Malay village on stilts, surrounded by very extensive
groves of palms. Several rivers intersect each other in this
neighborhood, flowing through dense jungles and mangrove swamps. The
sun is still high. The four white men and the Rajah Moussa have gone
ashore snipe shooting, the Malays on board are sleeping, and I am
enjoying a delicious solitude.
February 4, 4 P.M. - We are steaming over the incandescent sapphire sea,
among the mangrove-bordered islands which fringe the Selangor coast,
under a blazing sun, with the mercury 88 degrees in the shade, but the
heat, though fierce, is not oppressive, and I have had a delightful
day. The men returned when they could no longer see to shoot snipes,
with a well filled bag, and after sunset we dropped down to Bukit Jugra
or Langat.
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