"In Singapore there are many descendants of the early Portuguese settlers of the East; they still preserve the Portuguese language, and adhere to their religion, though sometimes they are rather weak in both. It is a curious fact that, though they preserve the features of Europe, their skins are frequently darker than those of the natives; and the spectacle is not an infrequent one of a man with Caucasian features, and a complexion black as a piece of anthracite coal.

"If you wish to realize the importance of Singapore as a place of trade, you have only to look at a map of the Eastern hemisphere and observe the position of the city. It is a convenient commercial point for China and Japan, for Java and the Malay Archipelago, for Siam, and even for Australia. Ships going between Europe and the far East rarely pass Singapore without stopping, and the great lines of steamships have a large business here. The commerce has steadily increased every year, and there is no sign that it will decline. Some of the old merchants complain that competition has ruined trade; they sigh for the return of the days when they had only one mail a month, and there was no telegraph to give hourly quotations of the prices of goods in all parts of the world. In those days business was confined to a few houses, and the chances of an outsider were slight indeed. Fortunes were sometimes made by a single venture, and not unfrequently a merchant had exclusive information of advances or declines that he could have a whole month to operate upon, without the least fear that anybody would be able to interfere with him.

"Profits are smaller to-day, and capital must be turned very often; the volume of business is far greater than it used to be, and the men who regret the good old times are forced to accept things as they are."


[CHAPTER XXIII.]

CROSSING THE EQUATOR.—ADVENTURE WITH MALAY PIRATES.

There were several things held in reserve to be seen on the second day in Singapore. Our friends went to the museum and library, which are in a large building near the esplanade or park where people stroll in the afternoon, and not far from the road which forms the fashionable drive. The library is an excellent one, and contains a great number of works on the East; the Doctor spent an hour or more among the books, and, while examining their titles and contents, he came upon a volume which was written by one of his intimate friends in America. It was entitled "Overland through Asia," and described a journey that the author once made across the northern part of the Eastern hemisphere.

There was a fair collection of minerals and other things in the museum, and the boys were interested in a huge python that lay coiled around some rocks in the centre of one of the rooms. The director of the museum told them that the serpent was kept in a cage in the museum for some time, but it was finally determined to kill and stuff him, so that his appearance could be more readily studied by visitors. The work of killing was more serious than had been anticipated; it was done by means of chloroform, as they did not wish to injure the reptile's skin by lacerating it.

A sponge saturated with chloroform was introduced between the bars of the cage, and held over the head of the python as he lay asleep. Instead of being stupefied, he was awakened by it; and he indicated most emphatically, by moving his head away, that he did not like that kind of treatment. He refused to breathe the narcotic, and it became apparent that some means of compelling him to take it must be adopted.