He Is Said To Have A Very Strong Character, To Be
Grasping, And To Be A "Brute;" But Mr. Low Gets On Very Well With Him
Apparently.
He is an elderly man, wearing a sort of fez on a shaven
head.
He has a gray mustache. His brow is a fine one, and his face has
a look of force, but the lower part of it is coarse and heavy. He was
fanning himself with his fez, and when I crossed the veranda and gave
him a fan, he accepted it without the slightest gesture of thanks, as
if I had been a slave. When Mr. Low told him that I had been at
Koto-lamah, he said that the chief in whose house I had rested deserved
to be shot, and ought to be shot. He and Mr. Low talked business for an
hour; but all important matters are transacted in what is called a
native council.
I wrote that I believed myself to be the only European in Kwala Kangsa,
but I find that there was another at the time when I wrote thus - a
young man of good family, who came out here seeking an appointment. He
was sun-stricken three days ago, and violent fever and delirium set in,
during the height of which he overpowered four Sikhs who were taking
care of him, rushed out of doors, fell down exhausted, was carried
home, and died at four in the morning, his last delirious dreams being
of gambling and losing heavily.
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