In Court and Kampong _ Being Tales and Ske - Sir Hugh Charles Clifford

(Perpustakaan Sri Jauhari) #1

cynically contemptuous and indifferent, or sullenly cruel,—are for once full of
life, anger, passion, and excitement. He stands there quivering and stamping,
blowing great clouds of smoke from his mouth and nose:


With    his nostrils    like    pits    full    of  blood   to  the brim.
And with circles of red for his eye-socket's rim.

The wild joy of battle is sending the blood boiling through the great arteries of
the beast, and his accustomed lethargic existence is galvanised into a new fierce
life. You can see that he is longing for the battle, with an ardour that would have
distanced that of a Quixote, and, for the first time, you begin to see something to
admire even in the water-buffalo.


A crowd of Râjas, Chiefs, and commoners are assembled, in their gaily coloured
garments, which always serve to give life and beauty to every Malay picture,
with its setting of brilliant never-fading green. The women in their gaudy silks,
and dainty veils, glance coquettishly from behind the fenced enclosure, which
has been prepared for their protection, and where they are quite safe from injury.
The young Râjas stalk about, examine the bulls, and give loud and contradictory
orders, as to the manner in which the fight is to be conducted. The keepers,
fortunately, are so deafened by the row which every one near them is making,
that they are utterly incapable of following directions which they cannot hear.
Malays love many people, and many things, and one of the latter is the sound of
their own voices. When they are excited—and in the bull-ring they are always
wild with excitement—they wax very noisy indeed, and, as they all talk, and no
one listens to what any one else is saying, the green sward, on which the combat
is to take place, speedily becomes a pandemonium, compared with which the
Tower of Babel was a quiet corner in Sleepy Hollow.


At last the word to begin is given, and the keepers of the buffaloes let out the
lines made fast to the bull's noses, and lead their charges to the centre of the
green. The lines are crossed, and then gradually drawn taut, so that the bulls are
soon facing one another. Then the knots are loosed, and the cords slip from the
nose-rings. A dead silence falls upon the people, and for a moment the
combatants eye one another. Then they rush together, forehead to forehead, with
a mighty impact. A fresh roar rends the sky, the backers of each beast shrieking
advice, and encouragement to the bull which carries their money.


After the first rush, the bulls no longer charge, but stand with interlaced horns,
straining shoulders, and quivering quarters, bringing tremendous pressure to bear

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