It was a pretty scene, this crowd of bright-coloured humanity. The skin of the Javanese is little darker than that of the Italian, and his clothes are gloriously picturesque. As usual, the hats, jackets, scarfs, and sarongs displayed every shade of colour and variety of pattern. The wayang did not begin until the evening. The chief performer, called the dalang, or manager, squatted on the ground before two poles of bamboo placed horizontally at a height of about three feet, into which he stuck the puppets, taking them from a box placed by his side. He chanted a long legendary tale taken from the ancient Javan literature, and dealing with the times before the European occupation of the island. At intervals he broke into a dialogue, when he worked the puppets' arms and legs with wires, so that they seemed to be acting their several parts. Behind the dalang was a gamelan, or series of gongs mounted on a wooden frame much like an ordinary couch. These gongs were struck with wooden hammers by other members of the company, and thus served as an orchestra. It was interesting to observe the deep attention with which the audience followed the movements of the puppets, and listened to the recitations and dialogue. H—— said they would sit there listening for hours, far into the night, without getting tired.
Owing to the restrictive trade policy of the Government, the planters, as a class, are much more identified with the native princes than with the Dutch officials. In a subsequent [chapter] I shall have occasion to speak of the development of horse-racing in Java, and of the support which is given to the movement by the native princes. At Tji Wangi I was shown a recent importation from Sydney—Lonely, who was destined to lower the colours of the Regent of Tjandjoer recently carried to victory by Thistle, also an Australian horse. The stables (like everything else in Java) were built of bamboo. They were kept in first-rate order. The stalls were occupied chiefly by country-bred ponies, the progeny of the native races of the neighbouring islands of Sandalwood and Timor. H—— said modestly that his stud was a very small one, but that if I would visit a Dutch neighbour I should see a stud of fifteen racers, beside brood mares. Race meetings and the various social gatherings connected with them are among the most important resources of the planter's life. H——'s nearest European neighbours were seven miles away, and he said that he could seldom entertain visitors at Tji Wangi, because of the scarcity of game in the neighbourhood. Indeed, the loneliness of the life is its great objection. The case of the Dutch planters is rather different. They are often married, and with their managers, form quite a little society of their own. But an Englishman rarely has the courage to bring a wife so far from home. In most cases it is the near prospect of returning with a fortune which alone makes so isolated an existence bearable.
Under these circumstances, it was not strange that H—— should keep a number of canine pets. Among them Bob, an English bulldog, was his favourite. He was as good-natured as he was ugly, seldom misbehaving, even when tempted beyond doggish endurance by the proximity of dark skins and waving drapery. On one occasion, however, he did give way to anger; but it must be admitted that he had provocation. H—— had some black ducks which he had carefully reared to ornament the little lake in the garden. One afternoon, when Master Bob was taking his siesta in the neighbourhood of the kitchen, with his small white teeth protruding, after the manner of bulldogs, from his black lips, and gleaming in the light, an unfortunate duck came by. Seeing the white oblong-masses in the region of Bob's mouth, she very naturally concluded that they were grains of rice left by the careless quadruped. Acting upon this theory, she hastily essayed to seize the morsel. The impact of her bill upon his nose woke Bob in terrible indignation. A short scuffle and a plaintive quack, and that duck's career was ended. But that was not all. So serious did the bulldog consider this insult to his dignity that, in spite of repeated castigations, he never rested until he had killed the whole of the remaining brood of ducks.[19]
Bob's predecessor in office had been poisoned by a native cook. "But I got her two months," H—— added, "and told my people that I had sent for another bulldog from England, and that if they poisoned him I should send for six more."
"But you once told me you had your house broken into. How did that happen?" This was in one of our talks in the smoking-room after dinner.
"It wasn't a very exciting business," he replied. "All I know was that the money was gone the next morning. The night before I was very tired and slept soundly; when I woke up I found my despatch-box gone. I summoned my people and set them to look for it; it was found about a hundred yards away, with the papers in it, but the money gone. About a month afterwards I discovered that one of the natives had been spending more money than he could account for, and, by the help of the native police, I got him convicted and sentenced to transportation for four years. There were three men concerned, but the others escaped through insufficient evidence. One of the stable boys had pulled up the bolts of the front door, and the thieves had quietly walked in, taken the box outside, and broken it open. It was a mere accident—my putting the money into the despatch-box instead of into the safe; but, of course, I took precautions against a repetition of the affair. I had my safe fastened into the ground, and the two safes at the office were built into the wall, as you saw.
"Now, you see, they know there's always a revolver here"—pointing to the desk—"and another by my bedside at night. There are a couple of guns there, but of course they would not be any good, although the bowie-knife hanging by them would. I always have two dogs in the house, one here and one in my bedroom, and there are five or six outside."
COFFEE BERRIES.