THE START.
In the few days which elapsed before the due arrival of official
permission for X. to leave the jungle, it might have been observed that
he was changed. The hitherto sedate individual became fussy and worried,
and members of The Community agreed that he was "journey-proud"--a happy
expression used by one of the neighbouring Malay potentates when wishing
to describe _his_ feelings at a time of emerging from the security of
his own retreat. But there was much to do--clothes not looked at since
the distant days when they left those cities on the other side of the
pass, had to be inspected and all their lapses laid bare--moths had
eaten holes in most conspicuous places, and in others rats had,
literally, made their nests. The shirts were whitened shams, as they
lay, no more than so many "dickeys," in a row, for when unfolded it was
found that they had lost their tails, long since the prey of cockroaches
or bedding for the young of mice; collars, when severed from their
fray, were sadly diminished in height, and the overhauling of the boot
department revealed the fact that there was nothing that would bear a
more critical eye than that of "The Community." However, the best had to
be made of a bad job, and one Bo Ping, a stitcher in leather, certainly
did _his_ best in the matter.
Then an equal preparation was required for the wardrobes of Usoof and
Abu, the two followers selected to accompany X. upon his travels. This
entailed many visits from the local tailors, who spent long hours in the
back premises, accompanied by all their friends and relations--for in
Pura Pura, as amongst many other Eastern peoples, for one person at work
there are always ten looking on. Thus the interest in these proceedings
was not centred upon X.--to some he played quite a secondary part in the
matter, being merely an incident connected with the departure of Usoof,
who was going to Java, which was his birthplace--as all the world
knew--but which he had left years ago, when little more than a baby in
arms. Usoof was going home to find his relations and tell them all about
himself, and "Tuan"[2] X. happened to be going too. This being a fact
widely reported and discussed nightly far into the small hours of the
morning, while friends ate light refreshments of bread and sugar with
pink-coloured syrups to wash them down, it is not to be wondered at
that X. began at last to feel that it was settled he was going
principally to search for Usoof's mother, who was possibly living in a
village somewhere in Java, her name unknown; indeed, her still being in
the land of the living was a matter of conjecture. This quest, however,
which obtained additional interest from the little that was knowable of
its object, is alluded to here, so that when it is subsequently related
how it led X. from the beaten track of tourists, there may be no
surprise, since it can be understood that it would have been impossible
for him to return to Pura Pura without some attempt to perform that
which was expected of him.
[Footnote 2: Malay equivalent for Mister = Sahib.]
In due time arrived the document permitting X. to leave Pura Pura, and
the day of departure was fixed. Usoof and Abu had already gone on ahead
in a bullock cart with the luggage, and X. was to leave next morning.
Several of "The Community" kindly came to see the start and sat calm and
superior over their long "stengahs," while the intending traveller
endeavoured to compress into a quarter of an hour the final instructions
for the regulation of affairs in his absence. However, after writing
various little memos and giving many injunctions to the syces and
tenants generally, concerning the care of the horses, sheep, geese,
dogs, bears, tame storks, porcupines, and other live stock which
belonged to the household, the traveller mounted into his sulky, with
that sinking in the region of his heart which comes to all those
temporarily about to leave Pura Pura's secluded calm. And thus he drove
forth into the great populous world beyond. The first glimpse of it was
distant twenty-four miles, and reached after a drive through some of the
most beautiful jungle scenery imaginable. This oasis of civilization was
the capital of the State at whose port it was necessary to embark. Here
X. remained for the night, accepting hospitality from the kind doctor
who had looked upon his complaint and so scientifically localised and
named it. To one fresh from the jungle, this evening appeared full of
novelty and life, from the fact of there being strange faces present.
One of the party was a French Roman Catholic priest, known to all in the
various States as a man of practical good works and a congenial
companion. And there was also a gentleman of title--a visitor fresh from
England--who should have been called a globe-trotter had he not, in the
course of the meal, thanked Providence that he had come across none of
that genus in those localities. This gentleman, who rejoiced at the
absence of globe-trotters, was bound for such a variety of places in
such a short space of time that X. could only regard him with
bewilderment and envy. For while he had only undertaken his journey
after the mature consideration of a month, during which time the
correspondence concerning leave and medical certificates had assumed
proportions of official magnitude, this traveller carried with him all
the documents connected with his plans in the form of a piece of paper
on which was written exactly where he must sleep, lunch, and dine during
the ensuing fortnight. It would be interesting to know if this visitor
actually accomplished his task and saw all that he proposed in the time
allowed. Perhaps, when he gets home, _his_ community--the other titled
people--will put pressure on him to write a book, and satisfy our
legitimate curiosity.
On the following morning X. boarded the train on the railroad which
connects the capital with the sea. He found himself an object of
interest to the dwellers in those distant parts, not only as the fleshly
embodiment of the personality hitherto known as initials at the bottom
of official minutes, but as the champion who had not long since
descended from his mountain for the purpose of engaging the railway in
litigation, in consequence of his garments having suffered from sparks
on the occasion of his last venture in the train.
This case had excited considerable interest, and X. had made a
triumphant exit, as he drove away from the court with portions of
charred wardrobe packed in behind. During the present journey there were
no sparks, and the coast was reached without any incident which might
promise litigation. The party consisting of X., Usoof and Abu, embarked
on the s.s. _Malacca_, a fairly comfortable steamship with a kindly
captain. The sniff of the sea was delightful to the jungle-wallah, and,
freed from official chains, he reclined in a long chair feeling that all
his plans and preparations had at least a present good result. The only
incident of the voyage that remains in his memory is the fact that a
Chinese passenger sitting opposite at dinner drank a bottle of whisky
and a bottle of claret mixed, and appeared to suffer no subsequent
inconvenience. In the evening the ship lay off Malacca. There are few
more suggestive views than this one of twinkling lights, here and there
disclosing momentary peeps of that picturesque old town, peeps that
conjure forth visions of half forgotten stories of that place of many
memories, told, in the jungle by the flicker of the camp fire, by
Malays, adepts at relating tales handed down by their fathers.
Then the cool evening of a tropical climate, the sea glinting in silver
moonlit streaks around the ship, which throwing a huge shadow on the
water lies silently swinging to her anchor before the peering little red
stars of that solitary old-world city. Scenes such as these are some
compensation to many a home-sick exile.
Ah, well,--we must not get sentimental and out of tune, though the
snores of the whisky-claret Chinaman are particularly discordant.
However he passed--as happily passengers do--and so did the night and
the early dawn as the s.s. _Malacca_ approached the beautiful island of
Singapore (does everyone know it is an island?) Ask you another! Well,
can my readers say straight off what constitutes the Straits
Settlements, and which are islands? but never mind--skip this and hurry
on over the bracket, if an answer were really wanted the bracket would
not be there.