the heir, so by the Court Faction he was still addressed as Pănglîma Prang
Mâmat.
On his arrival at Pĕkan, the Pănglîma Prang, unmindful of the fate which, at an
earlier period, had befallen his brother Wan Bong, whose severed head lay
buried somewhere near the palace in a nameless grave, began to assert himself in
a manner which no Malay King could be expected to tolerate. Not content with
receiving from his own people the semi-royal honours, which successive To’
Râjas have insisted upon from the natives of the interior, Pănglîma Prang
allowed his pride to run away with both his prudence and his manners. He
landed at Pĕkan with a following of nearly fifty men, all wearing shoes, the
spoils of war, it is said, which had fallen to his lot through the capture of a
Chinese store; he walked down the principal street of the town with an umbrella
carried by one of his henchmen; and he ascended into the King's Bâlai with his
kris uncovered by the folds of his sârong! The enormity of these proceedings
may not, perhaps, be apparent; but, in those days, the wearing of shoes of a
European type, and the public use of an umbrella, were among the proudest
privileges of royalty. To ascend the Bâlai with an uncloaked weapon in one's
girdle was, moreover, a warlike proceeding, which can only be compared to the
snapping of fingers in the face of royalty. Therefore, when Pănglîma Prang left
Pĕkan, and betook himself up river to his house in the Jĕlai, he left a flustered
court, and a very angry King behind him.
But at this time there was a man in Pahang who was not slow to seize an
opportunity, and in the King's anger he saw a chance that he had long been
seeking. This man was Dâto’ Imâm Prang Indĕra Gâjah Pahang, a title which,
being interpreted, meaneth, The War Chief, the Elephant of Pahang. Magnificent
and high sounding as was this name, it was found too large a mouthful for
everyday use, and to the people of Pahang he was always known by the
abbreviated title of To’ Gâjah. He had risen from small beginnings by his genius
for war, and more especially for that branch of the science which the Malays call
tîpu prang—the deception of strife—a term which is more accurately rendered
into English by the word treachery, than by that more dignified epithet strategy.
He had already been the recipient of various land grants from the King, which
carried with them some hundreds of devoted families who chanced to live on the
alienated territories; he already took rank as a great Chief; but his ambition was
to become the master of the Lĭpis Valley, in which he had been born, by
displacing the aged To’ Kâya Stia-wangsa, the hereditary Chief of the District.
To’ Gâjah knew that To’ Kâya of Lĭpis, and all his people were more or less