lowness of the water, we were met by two of the Datu Klana's policemen,
who threw cold water on the idea of our getting on at all unless
Captain Murray sent for us. These men escorted us to this police
station--a long walk through a lane of much decorated shops,
exclusively Chinese, succeeded by a lane of detached Malay houses, each
standing in its own fenced and neatly sanded compound under the shade
of cocoa-palms and bananas. The village paths are carefully sanded and
very clean. We emerged upon the neatly sanded open space on which this
barrack stands, glad to obtain shelter, for the sun is still fierce. It
is a genuine Malay house on stilts; but where there should be an
approach of eight steps there is only a steep ladder of three round
rungs, up which it is not easy to climb in boots! There is a deep
veranda under an attap roof of steep slope, and at either end a low bed
for a constable, with the usual very hard, circular Malay bolsters,
with red silk ends, ornamented with gold and silk embroidery. Besides
this veranda there is only a sort of inner room, with just space enough
for a table and four chairs. The wall is hung with rifles, krises, and
handcuffs, with which a "Sam Slick" clock, an engraving from the
Graphic, and some curious Turkish pictures of Stamboul, are oddly mixed
up. Babu, the Hadji, having recovered from a sulk into which he fell
in consequence of Mr. Hayward having quizzed him for cowardice about an
alligator, has made everything (our very limited everything) quite
comfortable, and, with as imposing an air as if we were in Government
House, asks us when we will have dinner! One policeman has brought us
fresh cocoa-nut milk, another sits outside pulling a small punkah, and
two more have mounted guard over us. This stilted house is the barrack
of eleven Malay constables. Under it are four guns of light calibre,
mounted on carriages, and outside is a gong on which the policemen beat
the hours.