I am once again on this breezy hill, watching the purple cloud-shadows
sail over the level expanse of tree-tops and mangroves, having
accomplished in about four hours the journey, which took nearly twelve
in going up.
The sun was not up when I left the bungalow at Kwala
Kangsa this morning. I rode a capital pony, on Mr. Low's English
saddle, a Malay orderly on horseback escorting me, and the royal
elephant carried my luggage. It was absurd to see this huge beast lie
down merely to receive my little valise and canvas roll, with a small
accumulation of Malacca canes, mats, krises, tigers' teeth and claws,
and an elephant's tusk, the whole not weighing 100 lbs.
Mr. Low was already at his work, writing and nursing Eblis at the same
time, the wild ape sitting on a beam looking on. I left, wishing I were
coming instead of going, and had a delightful ride of eighteen miles.
The little horse walked very fast and cantered easily. How peaceful
Perak is now, to allow of a lady riding so far through the jungle with
only an unarmed Malay attendant! Major M'Nair writes: "The ordinary
native is a simple, courteous being, who joins with an intense love of
liberty a great affection for his simple home and its belongings," and
I quite believe him. Stories of amok running, "piracies," treachery,
revenge, poisoned krises, and assassinations, have been made very much
of, and any crime or slight disturbance in the native States throws the
Settlements into a panic.
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