undoubtedly have been killed by some one or something, and perhaps the old-
world tradition of the Amazons, furnished to the mind of the survivor the most
natural explanation of the catastrophe.
A dozen years and more have slipped away since I heard this tale, told in the
fire-light of the Sĕmang camp, in the Upper Pêrak valley, and now there is a
trigonometrical survey station on the summit of Korbu. It is true that the
surveyors employed there have made no mention in their reports of the Amazons
of the neighbourhood, and the Sâkai are still living in prosperity, in spite of the
impending doom, which the old Sĕmang foretold for them. None the less,
however, I hold to the belief that my informant actually did see something weird
and uncanny at the back of Gûnong Korbu; and that the keen eyes of a jungle-
dwelling Sĕmang should not be able to clearly recognise anything their owner
could encounter in the forests of the Peninsula, is, in itself, a miracle.