Of the Pahang regalia I have not been able to obtain a list with any pretensions to completeness, but from a remark by Mr. Clifford (the present Resident) in one of his books, they would appear to be essentially the same as those of the other Federated States.[23]

A list of the Jĕlĕbu regalia (given me by Ungku Said Kĕchil of Jĕlĕbu) ran as follows:—

9. The royal Trumpet (lĕmpiri or nĕmpiri).Each ofthese was also said to emit a single chord of twelve notes.
10. The royal Gong.
11. The royal Guitar (kĕchapi).

This latter peculiarity (of the multiplication of notes) is quite in accordance with the traditions of the king’s musical instruments in Malay romances. Thus of Raja Donan’s magic flute we are told, “The first time (that he sounded it), the flute gave forth the sounds of twelve instruments, the second time it played as if twenty-four instruments were being sounded, and the third time it played like thirty-six different instruments.” No wonder we are told that “the Princesses Che Ambong and Che Muda dissolved in tears, and the music had to be stopped.”[24]

My informant declared that these objects came into existence of themselves (tĕrjali sĕndiri), at a spot between the two peaks of a burning mountain (gunong mĕrapi) in the country of Menangkabau in Sumatra. He also averred that “rain could not rot them nor sun blister them,” and that any one who “brushed past them” (di-lintas) would fall to the ground;[25] whilst no fewer than seven buffaloes have to be slaughtered before the “moving mountains” (when worn out) can be replaced.[26]

An enumeration of the writer’s regalia often forms an important part of a letter from one Malay sovereign to another, more especially when the writer wishes to emphasise his importance.[27]

But the extraordinary strength of the Malay belief in the supernatural powers of the regalia of their sovereigns can only be thoroughly realised after a study of their romances, in which their kings are credited with all the attributes of inferior gods, whose birth, as indeed every subsequent act of their after life, is attended by the most amazing prodigies.

They are usually invulnerable, and are gifted with miraculous powers, such as that of transforming themselves, and of returning to (or recalling others to) life; in fact they have, in every way, less of the man about them and more of the god. Thus it is that the following description of the dress of an old-time Raja falls easily into line with what would otherwise appear the objectless jargon which still constitutes the preamble of many a Malay prince’s letters, but which can yet be hardly regarded as mere rhetoric, since it has a deep meaning for those who read it:—

“He wore the trousers called bĕraduwanggi, miraculously made without letting in pieces; hundreds of mirrors encircled his waist, thousands encircled his legs, they were sprinkled all about his body, and larger ones followed the seams.”