These stories are the result of nine years' residence and experience on the Malayan coast--that land of romance and adventure which the ancients knew as the Golden Chersonesus, and which, in modern times, has been brought again into the atmosphere of valor and performance by Rajah Brooke of Sarawak, the hero of English expansion, and Admiral George Dewey of the Asiatic squadron, the hero of American achievement. The author, in his official duties as Special Commissioner of the United States for the Straits Settlement and Siam, and, later, as Consul General of the United States at Hong Kong, has mingled with and studied the diverse people of the Malayan coast, from the Sultan of Johore and Aguinaldo the Filipino to the lowest Eurasian and “China boy” of that wonderful Oriental land. These stories are based on his experiences afloat and ashore, and are offered to the American public at this time when all glimpses of the land that Columbus sailed to find are of especial interest to the modern possessors of the land he really did discover.
Baboo's Good Tiger -- Baboo's Pirates -- How we Played Robinson Crusoe -- The Sarong -- The Kris -- The White Rajah of Borneo -- Amok! -- Lepas's Revenge -- King Solomon's Mines -- Busuk -- A Crocodile Hunt -- A New Year's Day in Malaya -- In the Burst of the Southwest Monsoon -- A Pig Hunt on Mount Ophir -- In the Court of Johore -- In the Golden Chersonese -- A Fight with Illanum Pirates
screant appeared; then the head, and then the naked little body. Aboo Din grasped him in his arms, regardless of his former threats, or of the blood that was flowing from his wounds. Then, amid caresses and promises to Allah to kill fire-fighting cocks, the father hugged and kissed Baboo until he cried out with pain.
After each Malay had taken the little fellow in his arms, I turned to Baboo and said, while I tried to be severe,--
"Baboo, where is tiger?"
"Sudah mati (dead), Tuan," he answered with dignity. "Tiger over there, Tuan. Sladang kill. I hid here and wait for Aboo Din!"
He touched his forehead with the back of his brown palm. There was nothing, either in the little fellow's bearing or words, that betrayed fear or bravado. It was only one mishap more or less to him.
We followed Baboo's lead to the edge of the jungle, and there, stretched out in the hot sand, lay the great, tawny beast, stamped and pawed until he was almost unrecognizable.
All about him were t