The Malay theory of the tides is concisely stated by Newbold:[12]

“Some Malays ascribe the tides to the influence of the sun; others to some unknown current of the ocean; but the generality believe confidently the following, which is a mere skeleton of the original legend. In the middle of the great ocean grows an immense tree, called Pauh Jangi,[13] at the root of which is a cavern called Pusat Tassek, or navel of the lake. This is inhabited by a vast crab, who goes forth at stated periods during the day. When the creature returns to its abode the displaced water causes the flow of the tide; when he departs, the water rushing into the cavern causes the ebb.”

Mr. Clifford gives a slightly different explanation:—

“The Pusat tasek, or Navel of the Seas, supposed to be a huge hole in the ocean bottom. In this hole there sits a gigantic crab which twice a day gets out in order to search for food. While he is sitting in the hole the waters of the ocean are unable to pour down into the under world, the whole of the aperture being filled and blocked by the crab’s bulk. The inflowing of the rivers into the sea during these periods are supposed to cause the rising of the tide, while the downpouring of the waters through the great hole when the crab is absent searching for food is supposed to cause the ebb.”

Concerning the wonderful legendary tree (the Pauh Janggi) the following story was related to me by a Selangor Malay:—

“There was once a Selangor man named Haji Batu, or the Petrified Pilgrim, who got this name from the fact that the first joints of all the fingers of one hand had been turned into stone. This happened in the following manner. In the old days when men went voyaging in sailing vessels, he determined to visit Mecca, and accordingly set sail. After sailing for about two months they drifted out of their course for some ten or fifteen days, and then came to a part of the sea where there were floating trunks of trees, together with rice-straw (batang padi) and all manner of flotsam. Yet again they drifted for seven days, and upon the seventh night Haji Batu dreamed a dream. In this dream one who wore the pilgrim’s garb appeared to him, and warned him to carry on his person a hammer and seven nails, and when he came to a tree which would be the Pauh Janggi he was to drive the first of the nails into its stem and cling thereto. Next day the ship reached the great whirlpool which is called the Navel of the Seas,[14] and while the ship was being sucked into the eddy close to the tree and engulfed, Haji Batu managed to drive the first nail home, and clung to it as the ship went down. After a brief interval he endeavoured to drive in the second nail, somewhat higher up the stem than the first (why Haji Batu could not climb without the aid of nails history does not relate), and drawing himself up by it, drove in the third. Thus progressing, by the time he had driven in all the seven nails he had reached the top of the tree, when he discovered among the branches a nest of young rocs. Here he rested, and having again been advised in a dream, he waited. On the following day, when the parent roc had returned and was engaged in feeding its young with an elephant which it had brought for the purpose, he bound himself to its feathers with his girdle, and was carried in this manner many hundreds of miles to the westward, where, upon the roc’s nearing the ground, he let himself go, and thus dropping to the earth, fell into a swoon. On recovering consciousness he walked on till he came to a house, where he asked for and obtained some refreshment. On his departure he was advised to go westward, and so proceeded for a long distance until he arrived at a beautifully clear pool in an open plain, around which were to be seen many stone figures of human beings. The appearance of these stone figures rendering him suspicious, he refrained from drinking the water, and dipped into it merely the tips of his fingers, which became immediately petrified. Proceeding he met a vast number of wild animals—pigs, deer, and elephants—which were fleeing from the pursuit of a beast of no great size indeed, but with fiery red fur. He therefore prudently climbed into a tree to allow it to pass. The beast, however, pursued him and commenced to climb the tree, but as it climbed he drove the point of his poniard (badik) into its skull, and killed it. He then robbed it of its whiskers, and thereafter, on his reaching a town, everybody fled from him because of the whiskers which had belonged to so fierce a beast. The Raja of that country, begging for one of them, and giving him food, he presented him with one of the whiskers in payment. After paying his way in a similar manner at seven successive villages, the Petrified Pilgrim at length reached Mecca.”

“Bores,” or “eagres,” at the mouths of rivers, and floods[15] due to heavy rain, are conceived to be caused by the passage of some gigantic animal, most probably a sort of dragon, as in the case of landslips, which will be mentioned later.

This animal, whose passage up rivers is held to cause the tidal wave or bore, is called Bĕnă in Selangor. It is a matter of common report among Malays at Jugra, on the Selangor coast, that a bore formerly “frequented” the Langat river, near its mouth. This was anterior to the severance of the narrow neck of land[16] at Bandar that divided the old channel of the Langat river from the stream into which the waters of the Langat now flow, forming the short cut to the sea called the Jugra Passage. In the days when the bore came up the river the Malays used to go out in small canoes or dug-outs to “sport amongst the breakers” (main gĕlombang), frequently getting upset for their pains. Eventually, however (I was told), the bore was killed by a Langat Malay, who struck it upon the head with a stick! It is considered that this must be true, since there is no bore in the Langat river now!

Eclipses (Gĕrhana) of the sun or moon are considered to be the outward and visible sign of the devouring of those bodies[17] by a sort of gigantic dragon (rahu)[18] or dog (anjing). Hence the tumult made during an eclipse by the Malays, who imagine that if they make a sufficient din they will frighten the monster away.

The following is an excellent description of a lunar eclipse from the Malay point of view:—