“Show him in!” cried Verstork.
“Well, Wedono,” he continued with a smile, “I see you come to share our rice-table, that is very kind of you, I am glad to see you.”
The Javanese chief, however, had recoiled in terror. Had the conscientious Mohammedan been a Roman Catholic he would most assuredly have crossed himself. As it was he merely muttered in the direst confusion, “Excuse me, Kandjeng toean! You know that we are not allowed to eat pork.”
“But, you can take something else, Wedono—there is beef on the table and fowl and duck and fish—anything you like in fact.”
“Thank you, Kandjeng toean, thank you; but all these things have been cooked in the same kitchen as the sucking pig, and, you know our religion forbids us—”
“I am sorry for it, Wedono,” replied Verstork.
“I came here, Kandjeng toean,” continued the chief, “to give you my report of the day’s hunting.”
“Very well, Wedono!”
“Seventeen pigs great and small have been killed. The Chinamen at Kaligaweh and at Banjoe Pahit have bought the carcases from the village people and are now busy carting them away.”
“Ah, Wedono, those Chinamen know what is good,” said Verstork.