thirteen feet of water can go no higher; but the true capital, created
by the enterprise of Chinamen, is thirty-six miles farther inland, the
tin-mining settlement of Kwala Lumpor. Selangor thrives, if it does
thrive, which I greatly doubt, on tin and gutta; but Klang is a most
misthriven, decayed, dejected, miserable-looking place.* The nominal
ruler of Selangor is Sultan Abdul Samat, but he hybernates on a pension
at Langat, a long way off, and must be nearly obliterated, I think.
[*Kwala Lumpor is now the most important mining entrepot in Selangor,
and in 1880 the British Resident and his staff were removed thither.]

It is a great change from Malacca in every respect. I left it with
intense regret. Hospitality, kindness, most genial intercourse, and its
own semi-mediaeval and tropical fascinations, made it one of the
brightest among the many bright spots of my wanderings. Mr. Hayward
took me to the Rainbow in a six-oared boat, manned by six policemen,
completing the list of "Government facilities" as far as Malacca is
concerned. The mercury was 90 degrees in my little cabin or den, and it
swarmed not only with mosquitoes, but with cockroaches, which, in the
dim light, looked as large as mice. Of course, no one sleeps below in
the tropics who can avoid it; so as the deck was thick with Chinamen, I
had my mattress laid on a bench on the bridge, which was only occupied
by two Malay look-out men. There is not very much comfort when one
leaves the beaten tracks of travel, but any loss is far more than made
up for by the intense enjoyment.

It was a delightful night. The moon was only a hemisphere, yet I think
she gave more light than ours at the full. The night was so exquisite
that I was content to rest without sleeping; the Babel noises of fowls
and men had ceased, and there were only quiet sounds of rippling water,
and the occasional cry of a sea-bird as we slipped through the waveless