'Yes,' said he solemnly; 'but we were only instruments, like the axes in our hands; and the vengeance, therefore, fell upon the prime mover. The governor'—coming close up to the lady, and putting his mouth to her ear—'the governor died!' Now, all this was true—music, milk, blood, and death; and yet none of these was more the work of supernatural agency than any of the common circumstances of life.
The supposed unearthly sounds proceed neither from birds nor men, and the effect is either pleasing or awful, according to the mood of the listener. Some, in such circumstances, instead of receiving impressions of awe, like the Hindoo convict, would exclaim:
Where should this music be—i' the air, or the earth?
It sounds no more: and sure it waits upon
Some god of the island.
And again:
——The isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again.
One would think Shakspeare had actually been in some tropical forest when the daylight began to fade, and the myriads of insects to take up their evening-song! One of these extraordinary musicians is distinguished as the trumpeter; another produces a tinkle like a bell; and a third gives forth a sound which the imagination may ascribe to any instrument, or band of instruments, it pleases. This species of cricket buries himself in a centre, to which converge seven holes, which he has drilled in a circle; and from these seven tubes a sound rushes forth, which almost stuns the passer-by. It may be conceived, therefore, that a forest peopled with myriads upon myriads of such 'executants,' must have a strain for every ear, every mood, and every conscience.
The tree which welled forth milk when struck by the axe was the Ficus elastica—a sort of gigantic vine, as thick as a man's arm, which creeps along the ground, sending forth new roots from the joint, and, climbing at length some lofty tree, expands in branches. This is the chief caoutchouc-plant, and its sap has not only the colour, but many of the chemical properties of animal milk, and is frequently drunk as food. The blood came from one of the eucalypta, popularly called the blue gum-tree. The governor did die soon after his arrival on the island, and no doubt immediately after he had disturbed, in the manner related, the genius loci.
Pinang contains about 160 square miles of surface, nearly the whole of which is laid out in hills and dales, the loftiest of the former reaching a height of 2500 feet above the sea-level. On the slopes of this hill are built the governor's rural residence, and a bungalow, where invalids resort for country air. It is possible that great changes may have taken place here of late years, when efforts have been made to dot the island with sugar-plantations; but at the time we speak of, this was a solitary spot, behind which dark forests stretched upwards to the summit. Among these forests, on the shoulder of the hill, there occurs an optical phenomenon, not unknown in Europe, which is here an object of superstitious terror to the natives.
The first European who observed it was a gentleman who, taking advantage of the coolness of the hour, had strolled away in the early morning from the inhabited district, and was skirting round a deep valley, dotted at the bottom, and overhung at the sides with lofty trees. The beams of the sun had already begun to acquire some power, although his disk was scarcely yet above the horizon; and the traveller watched with interest the effect of the dawning light upon a sea of vapour which nearly filled the valley. This slowly-moving cloud, as it was acted upon by the sun, swelled higher and higher, and became whiter and whiter, till it finally settled, filling the whole valley with a substance that looked like alabaster, in the midst of which the topmost branches of the tall trees hung motionless. The scene was strangely beautiful; and the spectator, who was screened from the now risen sun by a belt of forest, lingered for awhile to contemplate it. When at length he resumed his walk, and, emerging from the trees, found himself in the full blaze of the rising sun, he turned once more to observe the effect on the vapour; and a cry of wonder which arose to his lips was only repressed by a feeling of awe, as he saw upon that alabaster surface a dark human figure of gigantic dimensions, surrounded by a halo that seemed formed of the rainbow. A confused rush of associations half acquainted him at the moment with the nature of the phenomenon; but giving way to the feeling of poetical delight, he clasped his hands above his head in admiration—a movement which the Phantom of the Alabaster Valley instantaneously imitated! It was indeed his own shadow—and a shadow he was not to recall, even when he turned away to journey homewards. There, in that lonely place, it seemed to him to remain for ever—a link connecting him with the spirit of nature, and ever and anon drawing him back into her domain from the meanness, and folly, and wickedness of the world.