From Fables & Folk-Tales from an Eastern Forest, collected and Translated by Walter Skeat, M.A. illustrated by F. H. Townsend; Cambridge: At the University Press; 1901; pp. 79-84.
Here is the country of Princess Sādong, in whose charge are all the caves and hollows of the Limestone Hills. She it was who was born from the big stem of Bamboo and who rules over the Little People, as well as over the wild Hill-goats.
A Prince named Raja Saga first fell very much in love with Princess Sādong, but when he pressed his suit she told him she would marry nobody who did not possess the White Blood (which only belongs to royalty of pure descent).
Now Raja Saga could not pretend to possess this mark of pure descent, and so he received his dismissal and his heart was broken so that he died.
Afterwards the Prince who was born in the Foam asked Princess Sādong to marry him, but the Princess refused him also. Moreover she lost her temper and scratched his forehead with the point of her dagger, so that he fled to a far country. Here he settled, and after many years became a powerful Monarch, but he could not forget Princess Sādong, 51 and so he returned to her country and besought an audience. Now when the princess saw him she recognised him by the scar upon his brow, and commanded one of her Body-guard to kill him, and thus the Foam-prince died also.
52These two tombs are very potent shrines and they lie about two or three miles along Patāni Point. 56 The grave-stones at head and foot are usually found to be about ten feet apart, but it is customary to measure the distance between them twice running in order to take omens as to the length of one’s future life. The second measurement always comes different from the first; but if the second measurement proves to be the longer, one’s future life will be long in the like proportion.
1 According to another version, they were both beheaded.
2 According to another version (though I cannot say, a more likely one) it was the granite grave-stones which miraculously floated and which ever since have continued to move (by way of mute protest, it may be supposed, against the high-handed action of the Unjust King), even when set at rest ashore.
57When she saw that her husband was dead she was alarmed, and shut up the dead body in the 58 deck-house, and whenever any of the crew asked questions, she said, “The master has fever.” But when they reached Jĕring, she buried the remains at Bánggor, and the spirit of Nakhōda Rágam entered the body of an old crocodile.
That is why it is sill the custom, whenever a big crocodile appears in these parts, for folk to say, “Nakhōda Rágam, your grandchildren beg leave to pass,” when he will immediately disappear beneath the surface.
59Now when Rāja Siung had rescued Princess 61 Nang Cháyang he brought her up in his own palace. And one day when he was hunting in the Jungle he heard the voice of a child, and going to the spot he found a male infant within the hollow stem of a big Bamboo which had been riven open by the wind. This infant he adopted also, and brought up the two children together. And one day when they were sitting on his knees and playing, each of them by accident2 pulled out a pair of the tusks. And when the Princess grew up, she married Prince Samura Muda. But the boy was ancestor of the Rājas of Rāman, who may not partake of the young Bamboo shoots, because their ancestor came out of the Bamboo before every they entered Islam.
1 It is interesting to note in this connection that one of the old Sanskrit names for the Tiger was “Chatur-danta” or the “Four-Toothed” (animal). This epithet applies of course to the four big canines or eye-teeth which are so prominent a characteristic of the Tiger (though found in many other animals.)
2 This explains why the tusks have disappeared in the Rāja of Rāman’s descendants.
62And when the fights took place between dogs and cats a great Flood came down from the mountains, and overwhelmed the people that dwelt in the plains. And they were all drowned in that flood, save only some two or three menials who had been sent up into the Hills to collect firewood.
63Then the sun, moon and stars were extinguished, and there was a great darkness. And when light returned, thee was no land but a great sea, and all the habitations of man had been overwhelmed.
64Then the Woodpecker went in before the King, and made obeisance, and said, “The Eagle, your Majesty, did not return the other day because he found in a cavern of the rocks a follower of Her Highness the daughter of the King of the Genii, who is a person of surpassing beauty and worthy to become a consort of your Majesty.“ To this the King replied, “Very well, if you are strong enough to do so, take her from him, you have our permission.” But the Eagle had arranged with the Woodpecker to excavate a hollow in a tree, and they had put the Princess in the hollow and closed the aperture with pitch and the Eagle had mounted guard there. So when the King heard this he said, “Bring 66 them both here, and I will grant his life.” Then the Eagle brought the Princess before King Solomon, and the King commanded the Queen to make a lather of powdered rice and wash it off the Princess’s person again with limes. At this the Princess’s feathers disappeared and the white markings of her skin showed up in all their beauty. Thus the daughter of the King of the Genii was married unto Solomon the King.
Now when all these things had happened, King Solomon spake unto the assembled Birds and said, “If ye had had nothing to say, ye should have spoken like the Thrush. If ye had aught to say, ye should have spoken like the Blue Heron.” And he cursed all the other birds with a great curse. And that is why to this day there are birds of so many different sorts, some with too long a beak, and others with too long a tail, and yet others with a black mark round the neck.
67Such was the havoc wrought by the Gĕdémbai that the older inhabitants at length conspired together to frighten them out of the land. For the Gĕdémbai were incredible fools, an could be cheated with great facility. And as they only went abroad at night, the Malays used certain stratagems to frighten the Gĕdémbai out of the country.
Pulling down the long weeping sprays of bamboo that overhung the streams, they cut them off short, and then let them spring back again to an upright position, so that the Gĕdémbai might think that only giants could have reached up to cut them.
69Next they put an old man upwards of sixty years of age in a child’s swinging cot, so that the Gĕdémbai seeing his toothless gums supposed him to be a newborn infant. And when the Gĕdémbai had thus been thoroughly cheated, they were easily made to believe that the harrows lying beside the rice-fields were Malay hair-combs, and that the very tortoises were insects that infested their persons; but that nevertheless they could make themselves small enough to creep inside the sheath of a dagger in order to hollow it out.
At length therefore the Gĕdémbai lost heart, and fled to the Country at the Foot of the Sky, but as they fled they called upon everybody they met to follow after them, turning all who refused to obey them into trees. Hence you will see in Malayan forests many lofty trees leaning over rivers. These were once men and women who refused to follow the Gĕdémbai in their flight, and were so severely kicked by them in consequence, that they have never since been able to stand upright. Here and there you will see trees whose silvery outer bark peels off in strips. These too, which are now 70 Pahlawan trees, were once human beings, but were transformed into trees for refusing to follow the Gĕdémbai, who caused their bark to fall off in patches by stroking the skin of their own breasts.
711 Sĕrei.
2 Pērak.
3 Gunong Jĕrai.
4 Bukit Pēak.
5 Bukit Tĕgah.
73Father Lime-stick and the Flower-pecker.
This tale, which appears in England as early as the Gesta Romanorum (ch. 167), was told me by a Kelantan Malay named Che Busu, one of the following of the Raja Muda of Patāani. The liming of birds as practised by the Malays is effected by cutting deep notches in the boughs of any tree in which birds have been observed to habitually settle, the operator inserting in each notch a short stick thickly coated with viscid sap obtained from certain trees in the jungle. When the birds have been caught these lime-sticks can be removed and used afresh in a different l0cality, this being much less trouble than it would be to lime the twigs of the tree itself.
Some of these lime-sticks in the Cambridge Museum are about 2 ft. in length, and of rather less than the thickness of the little finger.
The Malay name of the old man in the present instance is ‘To’Să-gĕtah,’ the Malay name of the bird being ‘Sĕrah putri’ or the ‘Princess’s betel-quid,’ a name which is derived from another legend. “The owl fell in love with the Moon-Princess and asked her to marry him. This she promised to do, if he would allow her to finish her quid of betel undisturbed, but before finishing it she threw it down to the earth, where it took the form of the small bird in question. The Princess then 74 requested the Owl to make search for it, but as, of course, he was unable to find it, the proposed match fell through. This is the reason why the owl, to quote the Malay proverb, ‘sighs longingly to the moon,’ and is the type of the desponding lover.” Malay Magic, 10.
A Bezoar-stone as big as a coconut. These Bezoar-stones are concretions obtained from the bodies of various animals, especially the porcupine and the monkey. Extraordinary magical virtues are ascribed to them. They are usually about the size of a small filbert (more or less), and their value, all else being equal, would be in proportion to their size. In the Gesta Romanorum (above referred to), it is a “Pearl bigger than the egg of an ostrich.”
worth at least a thousand: i.e, a thousand dollars, the dollar being about two shillings.
The King of the Tigers is sick.
This story was also one of Che Busu’s.
because of a dream of a certain medicine. It is hardly necessary to remind the reader of the extraordinary importance assigned to dreams by all uncivilised races.
The Mouse-deer‘s shipwreck.
This again was one of the tales told me by Che Busu.
Of the bird which I have translated Heron all I could ascertain was that it was a species of Heron distinguished by the roundness of its tail-parts. The Malays call it burong kuntul [in Patāni and Kelantan ‘kutu’].
the wind blew from the North. This would of course be a most favourable wind for anyone who wanted to sail to Java from any part of the Malay Peninsula.
I’m such a bad hand at swimming. The thin legs and deeply cloven hoofs of the Mouse-deer would be sufficient in themselves to account for this.
climbed up with it to the top of a She-oak tree. The She-oak is the name given (I believe) in Australia to Casuarina litorea or the ‘long-shore’ casuarina-tree. The 75 name of she-oak was given to this tree on account of the wood which was thought to resemble oak in appearance though it was really hardly fit even for fire-wood. It has needle-like leaves, and hence from a distance looks very like fir or larch. It is to be found as a rule in the Malay Peninsula wherever there is a sandy sea-board. The Malays call it ’Ru (short for Aru or Ĕru) which name they also apply to a kind of fir which grows in the mountains.
Who killed the Otter’s Babies?
This is another of Che Busu’s Tales, but when he told it to me there was a missing link, that of the king-crab, which he could not recollect. As, however, I heard the story re-told and the link supplied in Kedah, I take the opportunity of making good the omission. The Malay word ‘anak’ may mean either ‘child’ or children, according to the context, but as in this context it is impossible to tell whether the singular or the plural is intended, I have thought it best, the Otter being a fairly prolific animal, to keep it to the plural. In either case, however, it does not affect the point of the tale.
The otter is, so far as I am aware, much the same as the common otter (Lutra vulgaris).
The tale is of a kind which may perhaps best be called an all-round-the-clock or more simply a ‘clock’ story, as it ingeniously sets forth the chain of incidents, by which the responsibility for the death of its own children was brought home to the Otter itself, thanks to the wisdom of king Solomon, who here figures, as in so many other Eastern fables, as a judge of extraordinary discretion.
the Woodpecker. . . sounded the war-gong: this of course is an allusion to the tapping of the woodpecker’s bill upon the bark of tree-trunks in its search for insects.
the Great Lizard wearing his sword. The Great Lizard is the “Iguana,” as it is often called (more correctly, the Monitor Lizard of the Far East). It grows to an immense size, even reaching a length of more than six feet. From three to 76 five feet however is the common size. The Great Lizard’s sword is of course the long and tapering tail which he trails behind him.
the Tortoise has donned his coat of mail. This refers clearly enough to the mail-like shell by which the tortoise is protected. The expression here used is a favourite paraphrase such as with the Malays often takes the form of a riddle. “An old hunchback wearing a coat of mail armour; What is it?” the answer being of course “A tortoise”: most of the paraphrases referred to in this tale are also I believe known to the Malays in the form of riddles.
the King-crab trailing his three-edged pike. The king-crab si a limulus. The pike here referred to is a bayonet-shaped spike which (like our own “Morning Star”) was specially used in former times by the Malays for piercing chain-armour. Hence it is here employed as usually, in conjunction with the armour. The allusion in this instance is to the curious spike at the end of the king-crab’s tail.
the Crayfish had shouldered his lance. The Malay word may either signify crayfish, in which case it belongs to the family of the Astacidæ, the ‘lance’ being an allusion to the crayfish’s long feelers or antennæ when turned backwards over its shoulder; or else it may mean prawn, in which case it probably refers to the fretted spike or saw on the prawn’s head. The word used for lance in the Malay refers to the fringed or tasselled lance which is used in many parts of the Far East as one of the insignia of royalty, and which is decorated, in various localities, with yak or cow-tails, with horse-hair &c. &c.
A Vegetarian Dispute.
This story was taken down on the banks of the Upper Tĕmbĕling River, in the interior of Pahang. As the object of the last tale was to explain in a playful (semi-serious, semi-comic) vein the origin of the most striking characteristics of certain animals, so the present story attempts to account for the chief characteristics of certain objects in the vegetable world. 77 Unfortunately I have not, in two or three cases, been able to identify the plant, though the general tenour of the story is perfectly clear. The identification which follow are taken from a list of Malay plants by H. N. Ridley in J. R. A. S., S. B. [No. 30], July, 1897.
Jágong if the Malay name for Indian Corn or Maize, which is largely grown as a ‘catch’-crop in the Malay Peninsula.
Dāgun if a Gnetum, probably edule.
Gāgong if Dioscorea demonum Rox. (Dioscoreaceæ). It is a climber with large tubers, which are used in the manufacture of dart-poison, and also eaten after repeated washings to extract the narcotic properties which they contain.
Káchang may here be any kind of cultivated bean, such as is grown (in company with maize) as a ‘catch’-crop.
Libut, the tree so called in Pahang (also Bĕlibok in Ulu Kelantan), is almost certainly the “Keĕlĕbok” tree of the W. coast (Selangor &c.). It is a species of Ficus (? F. Roxburghii, Wall., Urticaceæ), a large ficus, “with clusters of big figs on the stem.” It is a light wood, used by the wild tribes for making the butts of their blow-gun darts.
The Liane referred to is a kind of creeper called Wilang (unidentified).
The “Ox-eye tree” (māta lémbu) is also mentioned in the dictionaries.
The Pĕrāchak (also Pĕrachek and Pĕrachet) is Tabernæmontana Malaccensis, Hook. fil. (Apocynaceæ).
“And’ram” is also unmentioned, but may probably be taken as a dialectal variation of mĕndĕrong, a common kind of sedge used in mat-making. (Scirpus grossus, Vahl. Cyperaceæ.)
The Friendship of Tūpai the Squirrel and Rūan the Creeping Fish.
This tale was told me as a proverbial example of devoted friendship, by one of the local Malays at a village on the banks 78 of the Siong River, a long way up-country in the State of Kedah.
The Squirrel is the common striped squirrel of the Malay Peninsula, and the Fish is an ‘ophiocephalus,’ a kind of swamp-fish that is able both to walk and climb by opening and shutting its gill-cases. I have here called it the creeping fish to distinguish it from the walking mud-fish of Africa, the point of the story in the present case being moreover its ability to creep out of the tube; but it is best known locally for its walking powers, of which I have myself been a witness.
a bamboo water-tube. These water-tubes are the so-called joints (or inter-nodes) of a big species of bamboo with long inter-nodes. They are often as much as 5 ft. to 6 ft. in length (by 4 or 5 inches in diameter); and when I was at Siong (where this story was collected), I used regularly to see (in the early morning) the women of the hamlet carrying them down to the water and refilling them there. They are used by jungle Malays, I believe, throughout the Peninsula.
Nesting-places for the hens are often made at the top of similar bamboos, the upper end of the tube being split in many places all round and opened out in the form of a basket, which is lined and filled with a little earth, forming a species of nest for the hen to roost in. Like the water-bamboos they are usually kept close to the house.
The Pelican’s Punishment.
This is a Malay version of one of the best-known of Æsop’s Fables. It was collected on the Tĕmbĕling river in Ulu Pahang.
The Tiger gets his deserts.
As my friend Mr. R. J. Wilkinson points out, this tale occurs in the Hikayat Gul Bakhtiyar. It was collected in Ulu Kedah (Siong).
The Tiger’s mistake.
This is one of the Tĕmbĕling Stories, and was told me as having happened on the very spot (upon the banks of the Lĕbih 79 River) on which I was one night encamped. The spot was a small point of land jutting out into the stream of the Lĕbih which swirled angrily past, chafing at the steep bank which here disputed its passage. It was surrounded by a dense wall of jungle and it appeared just the place to expect a tiger, although it may be open to question whether crocodiles are ever met so far up-stream and above so many rapids.
The Tune that makes the Tiger drowsy.
This Tune which the Malays call “Lāgu rīmau mĕngántok” may perhaps only exist in the popular imagination, like our own “tune the cow died of.” The phrase appears to be pretty generally known in the East Coast States, though I had not heard it in the States of the Western Sea-board. The ‘kĕrōtong’ is a ‘joint’ of bamboo, longitudinal strips of the skin of which are raised with a knife, and tightened by means of wedges (or ‘bridges’) inserted (under the strips) at both ends, so that the strips form the instrument’s strings. The strings may be two or more in number, and are twanged with the fingers.
The Tiger’s Fold.
The scene of this story is laid in the district of Ulu Sĕtiu, in the East-Coast Malay State of Trenggānu. The story of the Tiger’s Fold is a favourite subject with Malay story-tellers, the Fold being usually described as situated upon any neighbouring hill or mountain of considerable height, e.g. Gunong Ledang or Mount Ophir, a well-known mountain in the interior of Malacca territory (about 4000 ft.).
The Tiger and the Shadow.
This tale is from Ulu Kedah. It is an interesting Malay version of our own “Dog and the Shadow.”
The ‘salt-licks’ of the Malay Peninsula (called Sira in Kedah and Jĕnut in Ulu Pahang) are famous places for big game. They are places where the ground is thickly saturated with natural salts derived usually from the overflowing of hot mineral springs in the vicinity.
80 Kusis if the smallest of the Malay flying squirrels, and is not much larger than our own common bat.
Wit wins the day.
This story is new to me; it was told me by a Kelantan Malay.
he kept trying to clamber on to the raft. In the upper reaches of rivers in many of the East-Coast (Malay) States it is the custom to keep bamboo rafts moored under the steep banks, instead of the fallen tree-trunks which more commonly form the landing-stages of the West-Coast Malays.
The King-crow and the Water-snail.
This story is an old friend in a new dress. It was told me on the Tĕmbĕling River by a Malay of Pahang. The King-crow (also called the Racquet-tailed Drongo) is the “Chenchawi” of the Malays, and the Water-snail is “Siput.”
Birah is a name give to various wild aroids.
Kĕmahang seems to be a Diascorea.
It is a common Malay belief that many species of shell-fish (e.g. when the tide is coming up) make audible sounds, which the Malays usually describe as ‘whistling.’ A similar superstition appears to have once been current in England, witness the portrayal of “The Whistling Oyster” on the signboards of old inns.
The Elephant Princess.
This tale, which I picked up in PatĂni, is obscure in parts, but shows distinct traces of Siamese influence (e.g. in the mention of the Siamese (Buddhist) Monastery). There are many of these monasteries in the State of Patāni, inhabited by the yellow-robed priests of Buddha.
The ‘Prophet’ Adam and the ‘Lady Eve’ (Baba Hawa) are the usual titles assigned by the Malays to the traditional ancestors of mankind. For a parallel story, see Malay Magic, p. 151 seqq.
making a bridge of a soap-vine stem. This refers to the Malay soap-vine called Bĕluru; (the only one given in 81 Ridley’s List being Entada scandens L. (Leguminosæ], short pieces of whose stem are broken up and mixed with water, which is then worked up into a lather and used for washing purposes by Jungle-dwelling Malays, in place of soap. It is a fairly big and strong creeper.
scooped out the contents of a giant gourd. This recalls the state carriage (in our own story of Cinderella) which was improvised out of a pumpkin.
his iron pike-head; this is a pike called “sā” (sau), such as is carried by elephant-drivers.
The Elephant’s bet.
This story was told me by Che Busu, the Kĕlantan Malay already referred to.
went to look for it at the house of a maker of palm-wine. Palm-wine or toddy is made by tapping the big fleshy flower-shoot (axis) of the coconut palm; the sap is run off into short bamboo vessels and allowed to ferment (when required for drinking purposes) or boiled down to make a kind of molasses or palm-sugar as required.
Princess Sádong of the Caves.
This story (from Kedah) seems to be widely known in the Malay Peninsula, in most places at all events where there are lime-stone hills and hill-goats (Kambing gurun), the name of Princess Sādong being commonly invoked by way of diverting the hill-goats from the crops. It also turns up in the Islands (of the Malay Archipelago) as the Story of the Princess who refused all her Suitors. The Country of What-you-will is called in Malay “Alang-ka-suka,” or “Alang-’kau-suka.”
the Prince who was born in the Foam. In “The Story of Patāni” it is the Princess who is rescued from the Foam and the Prince who is discovered in the stem of the Big Bamboo. Such local variations are very common, each district having its own way of telling what it regards as its own story. See however the notes to the “Story of Patāni.”
82 The Saint that was shot out of his own cannon.
This curious legend was told me by Mula Awang, of Pāni.
Grésik, now a mere hamlet some three or four miles from Patāni town, was once the seat of royalty here, but has evidently been many years abandoned. I was shown the spot upon which the cannon (out of which Che Long was fired), is said to have stood, my Malay companion drawing my attention to the fact that it was bare of grass, since none would grown there after the event here described.
Kuála Bárat or the Western River-mouth is an old mouth of the PatĂni river (now silted up).
The Luck of Patāni (Mal., Sri Patāni). I believe a small cannon bearing this name is to be seen in the Museum of Bangkok.
The story of the Saints whose Grave-stones moved.
This story was from the same source as the last. Father Lanky’s real name was, I was told, She (= Sheikh?) Rombok.
Jámbu is the chief town of the Jĕring District; it lies a few miles S. E. from Patāni Town.
I myself paid a visit to the tombs of the two saints and was requested to try my fortune, all the neighbouring villagers turning out to watch the proceedings. The two graves, which were protected by a low wall and a roof, had been made, I found, in the sand, and were covered by long low mounds of sand from head to foot. This circumstance, combined with the fact that the measuring instrument was a short stick (supposed to be a cubit long, corresponding exactly to the length of the operator’s arm as measured from elbow to middle finger tip), made the task a harder one than might have been expected. Each time a cubit was measured, a furrow was made in the sand to mark the place, and the loose sand falling in on both sides of the furrow, it was by no means easy to be sure of the exact centre of the furrow when the next cubit came to be measured. Fortunately 83 however, in my own case, the error came out on the right side, as the second measurement came to a little more than the first; a result on which I was warmly congratulated by my Malay friends.
Nakhōda Rágam.
There are many versions of this story in various parts of the Peninsula, this particular one being told me in Patāni. Nakhōda is a Persian word (meaning Ship-master) which has been borrowed by the Malays. “Nakhōda Rágam,” it appears, was the familiar name of one “Sultan Bulkeiah” of Borneo, described in Bornean traditions as a great warrior and a great navigator, he having voyaged to Java and Malacca, and conquered the East Coast of Borneo, Luzon and Suluk. His wife, called Lela Men Chanei, was a daughter of the Batara of Suluk. — Hugh Low on the Selesilah of the Rajas of Brunei, J. R. A. S., S.B. no. 5, p. 7 (notes).
Jĕring is the name of the District of which Jámbu (v. supra) is the chief town.
Bánggor is a name given to any knoll of rising ground or low eminence near a river, and in this case it probably refers to the site of Jámbu village.
The Legend of Patāni.
This story, which is a well-known Malay legend, and which purports to describe the first beginnings of the state of Patāni, was told me by a Malay in Patāni Town.
Nang Cháyang is the name of an early queen of PatĂni.
For this Foam Princess, cp. Malay Annals (trans. by Leyden, London 1821) p. 29: “It happened on a certain day that the river of Palembang brought down a foam-bell of uncommon size, in which appeared a young girl of extreme beauty. The Raja being informed of this circumstance, ordered her to be brought to him. This was done, and the Raja adopted her as his daughter. She was named Putri Tunjong-bui, or the “Princess Foam-bell.” Palembang is in Sumatra.
84 he found a male infant. In many versions the two children — the Bamboo Prince and the Foam Princess — are made to marry when they grow up.
The RĂjas of Rāman who may not eat the young bamboo shoots. From this it may perhaps be inferred that the Bamboo was their totem. The traces of genuine totemism among the Peninsular Malays are however of the rarest description.
a lather of powdered rice. The Malay method of (ceremonial) bathing is to cover the person with a lather made of finely powdered rice mixed with other substances, and to wash it off again with the juice of limes.
The Outwitting of the Gĕdémbai.
This class of spirits is usually called K’lembai, but as this tale is from Ulu Pahang (Tĕmbĕling River) I have retained the local form of the name. I quote in conclusion an interesting note from the J. R. A. S. by the late Sir William Maxwell, which runs as follows: —
“sperti bujuk lĕpas deri bubu.
“Like a ‘bujuk’ fish escaped from the trap.
Bujuk is a fresh-water fish found in muddy places. Bubu is a fish-trap made of split bamboo tied with rattan. It has a circular opening which narrows as the end of the passage is reached and is constructed on the same principle as the eel-pot or lobster-pot. One of the highest mountains in Perak is called Bubu. It is supposed to be the fish-trap of the mythological personage named Sang Kalembai, and the rocks in the bed of the Perak river at Pachat are pointed out as his Sawar (stakes which are put down to obstruct a stream and thus to force the fish to take the opening which leads to the trap).”
[Maxwell in J. R. A. S., S. B. no. 1, pl. 145.]
This is a common Malay practice for netting fresh-water fish. The stones thrown in are called “Batu Tungkul.”
Pahlawan = Tristania whitiana, a striking tree in Malayan forests. Its bark peels off in strips.
Princess Lemon-grass. By a popular etymology, 85 the Malay name of Kedah Peak (“Gūnong Jĕrai” or “ ‘Jĕrai’ Crag”) is here derived from the Malay word sĕrei which means ‘lemon-grass’ (citronella). In the “Hikayat Marong Mahawangsa” it is said to be so called “on account of its height.” The name is however undoubtedly taken from the name of the Tree (Jĕrai), v. supra (p. 36).
the Silver Prince. The Malay word for silver is “Perak,” whence not only the name of this mountain, but also those of the Perak river and the Perak state, are derived.
Sheer Hill. This is the meaning of the name of “Būkit Tĕgah,” a steep hill situated between the Silver Mountain (Būkit Perak) and Kedah Peak (Gūnong Jĕrai). I may add that the difference in use of the terms “Gūng” and “Būkit” has nothing whatever to do with the question of height (as in the case of the words ‘hill’ and ‘mountain’ in English). The former (gūnong) means a more or less bare and precipitous peak or crag, whilst the latter (būkit) is used of all forest-covered hills or mountains.
The spelling followed is that of Standard (Peninsular) Malay, romanised according to the sound of the Italian vowels. J, Ch, and other consonants here used, (except final K), roughly speaking, as in English. Final K is a strong guttural check, G is always hard. NG is a single letter, and hence NGG has to be used to express the sound of NG in Eng. “longer,” “stronger,” &c.
pending