that night, we tied up about half a mile below the capital, at the landing-place
which belonged to my travelling companion.
Thereafter followed negotiations, and interviews—made terrible by unearthly
sweetmeats—much talk, and long waiting. Endless delays on the one side,
stubborn patience that refused to be tired out on the other; and, as dawn was
breaking on a certain Easter Sunday, I found myself, with a promise of a Treaty
in my pocket, making my way out of the mouth of the river en route for
Singapore. A fortnight later I was back at Pĕkan, to the no small disgust of my
friend the Sultân and his people, but now I had quarters assigned to me in the
royal village, and accordingly I saw but little of the Râja with whom I had
formerly travelled, and the people who had accompanied him from the interior.
One day, about noon, I was aroused from sleep,—for, at Pĕkan, when first I
lived there, all business was transacted at night, and no one of standing, who
respected himself, thought of going to bed before eight o'clock in the morning,
or of getting up till four in the afternoon. For Malays to wake one means that
there is trouble, or that something untoward has occurred; for, in the Native
States, slumber is respected,—as it ought to be, seeing how hard at times it is to
come by,—and the European practice of being called in the morning, is a
barbarous habit with which Malays have no sympathy. On this occasion there
was a good reason for waking me, as news had just come in that To’ Mûda Long
had killed Bâyan the Paroquet, and as this had occurred in the compound of the
Râja, with whom I had formerly travelled, and as he and the Sultân were on bad
terms, there was room for fear that serious political complications would ensue.
I, therefore, had occasion to inquire into the details of this murder, and this is
what I learned.
To’ Mûda Long, Bâyan the Paroquet, and the rest of the up-country natives, who
had accompanied us down river to Pĕkan, remained in the Râja's enclosure to act
as his body-guard and boat crew, and they had not been long at Pĕkan before the
girls of the town began to send challenges to them, for Malay women dearly love
a change, and these men were all strangers newly come among them. Nothing
loth, the Râja's followers plunged hotly into the love intrigues which formed the
principal interest in life to the people of Pĕkan, and the usual jealousies began to
cause quarrels among them. Now, it chanced that To’ Mûda Long and Bâyan
both desired the same girl, and she, it would seem, preferred the Paroquet to the
young Chieftain. Perhaps, his good voice, and the skill with which he sang the
Song of the Bûrong Âgot, turned the balance in his favour, for Malay women
love to be amused, and often favour those who are willing and able to amuse