betel. Everything being now ready, the medicine-man appeared and took his seat
beside the censer, his wife, an aged woman, whose office was to chant the
invocation, to her own accompaniment, taking her seat at the same time near the
head of the patient’s sleeping-mat. Presently she struck up the invocation (lagu
pĕmanggil), and we listened in rapt attention as the voice, at first weak and
feeble with age, gathered strength and wailed ever higher and shriller up to the
climax at the end of the chant. At the time it was hard to distinguish the words,
but I learnt from her afterwards that this was what she sang:—
“Peace be unto you, Pĕnglima Lenggang Laut!
Of no ordinary beauty
Is the Vessel of Pĕnglima Lenggang Laut!
The Vessel that is called ‘The Yellow Spirit-boat,’
The Vessel that is overlaid with vermilion and ivory,
The Vessel that is gilded all over;
Whose Mast is named ‘Prince Mĕndela,’
Whose Shrouds are named ‘The Shrouds that are silvered,’
Whose Oars are named ‘The Feet of the Centipede‘
(And whose Oarsmen are twice seven in number).
Whose Side is named ‘Civet-cat Fencing,’
Whose Rudder is named ‘The Pendulous Bees’-nest,’
Whose Galleries are named ‘Struggling Pythons,’
Whose Pennon flaps against the deckhouse,
Whose Streamers sport in the wind,
And whose Standard waves so bravely.
Come hither, good sir; come hither, my master,
It is just the right moment to veer your vessel.
Master of the Anchor, heave up the anchor;
Master of the Foretop, spread the sails;
Master of the Helm, turn the helm;
Oarsmen, bend your oars;
Whither is our vessel yawing to?
The vessel whose starting-place is the Navel of the Seas,
And that yaws towards the Sea where the ‘Pauh Janggi’ grows,
Sporting among the surge and breakers,
Sporting among the surge and following the wave-ridges.
It were well to hasten, O Pĕnglima Lenggang Laut,