The Malays, dressed in gayly colored sarongs and bajus (jackets), with little
rimless caps on their heads, squatted on their heels and chewed betel-nut, with
eyes half closed and mouths distended.
The Arab traders and shopkeepers were grouped about in little knots, gravely
conversing and watching the files of gharries or carriages, and even rickshaws,
that were bringing Malay unkus (princes not of the royal blood), patos (peers),
holy men, and rich Chinese mandarins to the steps that led up to the plaza before
the throne-room.
The palace was two stories high, long and narrow. The interior rooms were
separated from the outer walls by wide, airy corridors. The lattice-work windows
were without glass and were arranged to admit the breezes from the ocean and
ward off the searching rays of the equatorial sun. In these dusky corridors were
long rattan chairs, divans, and tables covered with refreshments, and along its
walls were arranged weapons of war and chase, Japanese suits of straw armor,
Javanese shields, and Malay krises and limbings.
In a little court at the end of our corridor, where a fountain splashed over a
clump of lotus flowers and blue water lilies, a long-armed silver wah-wah
monkey played with a black Malay cat that had a kink in its tail like the joint in a
stovepipe, and chased the clucking little gray lizards up the polished walls.
The gorgeous aide stared in poorly concealed wonderment, when he entered to
conduct us to the grand salon, at my plain evening dress suit, destitute of gold
lace or decorations, but he was too polite to say anything, and I humbly followed
my uniformed colleagues through the long suite of rooms. It would have been
useless for me to have tried to explain the great American doctrine of
“Jeffersonian simplicity.” He would have shrugged his narrow shoulders, which
would have meant, “When you are among Romans, you should do as Romans
do.”
In the grand salon, more than in any other part of the palace, one feels that he is
in the home of an Oriental prince whose tastes far outrun his own dominions.
Velvet carpets from Holland, divans from Turkey, rugs from Bokhara, tapestries
from Persia, and lace from France mingle with embroideries from China, cut
glass from England, and rare old Satsuma ware from Japan. On a grand square