Malays, they had been swept down by the tide upon the stockade, and the majority were drowned or killed by alligators. We respected these brave fellows; and although there was some suspicion of their being deserters from the Company's army, we gave them the benefit of the doubt; and, having made them swear to escort the women with all speed to Province Wellesley, we put them all under charge of Inchi Laa, and hastened their departure before the Siamese entered Quedah fort and observed their movements. Barclay and I crawled through the mud, aroused all the fair ladies from their al fresco slumbers, told Inchi Laa he must be off-a piece of advice which needed no repetition,-and in a few minutes we were left alone, the stars and a young moon shining on the grey walls of the deserted stronghold. The fall of Quedah, an intertropical fort, held by a handful of piratical Malays against a far superior force of that little-known people, the Siamese, certainly constitutes a very curious and interesting little episode in Malayan and Siamese history. The description of the Siamese within the fort is by no means so amusing or picturesque, and they very naturally did not at all understand what Captain Osborn calls "the immense moral aid" which the English had afforded to his golden-tufted majesty of Siam. We cannot, however, quit this very picturesque region without noticing certain matters that are somewhat peculiar. While stationed in the river Parlis, the crew of the Emerald were a good deal employed in killing buffalo and catching fish, in which last service sampans, or native canoes, were chiefly used. Here is what occurred on one occasion: Towards sunset, the sampan returned down the river with only half a load of shell-fish, Jamboo and his crew having been frightened off the fishing-ground by what Sutoo, the quartermaster, assured me was an Untoo, or evil spirit. He explained to me, that while busy up to their knees in water, an odd noise had been heard under the overhanging trees on the opposite bank: looking in that direction, they saw a man's head come up out of the water; the face was covered with hair, and it eyed them in a fierce, threatening manner; they shouted, jumped into the sampan, and fired at the creature; it dived for a minute, and then appeared again, grinning horribly. Jamboo and his men decided that it was a demon, and thought it better to decamp whilst their skins were whole. I laughed heartily at their fears, and tried to explain to them that it might be a seal. Jamboo, however, stoutly insisted that no seals were ever seen in Malayia; and as I found myself in the minority, I quietly acquiesced in the supposition that it was an unclean spirit. Jadee said, if not the Old Gentleman, that it must be one of the wild men who could imitate the appearance of monkeys or apes, the cry of birds, or the howlings of wild beasts, so as even to deceive animals. These wild men are the sad remnants of an aboriginal race of diminutive negroes, who, at one time, were more numerous, but are now only found in small isolated parties, in the most inaccessible fastnesses of Malayia, living amongst the branches of trees, to avoid the snakes and beasts of prey. They are human beings in their most degraded form-without religion, without any acknowledged form of government, and only gifted with animal instincts and passions. When found or caught by the Malays, they are tied up or caged just as we should treat chimpanzees. I argued that it was very unlikely such creatures should be down so close to the sea, and, least of all, would they voluntarily show themselves to our men. Jadee, however, suggested that the movements of large bodies of armed men had disturbed them in their haunts; besides, that at one season of the year they were known to wander towards the sea-shore, either for the sake of procuring salt, or because shell-fish was easily procurable. Under these circumstances, I was not sorry Jamboo had returned; for these wild men use the sumpit, or blow-pipe, with fearful skill, and blow small poisoned arrows, a few inches long, with sufficient force to destroy even birds upon the wing. Sailors of every part of the world have a strong spice of the romantic and superstitious in their composition, and the Malays are, it appears, no exception to this rule. Indeed, the wild and enterprising life which the majority of them lead, and the many curious phenomena peculiar to the seas and islands of their beautiful archipelago, are always liable to be accounted for by an uneducated, but observant and highly imaginative, race, by supernatural agency. There were proofs (Captain Osborn remarks) by the thousand amongst these poor fellows of that connexion with the world of spirits which it seems to be the desire of man in every stage of civilisation to assure himself of; and I must say, I half began to believe in their assertions upon that head; their faith was so earnest and child-like, that it worked strongly upon even my own tutored convictions to the contrary. Children never clustered round a winter fire at home with more intense credulity and anxious sympathy, than did my poor Malays to listen to some woful legend, derived from the blood-stained annals of the Portuguese or Dutch rule in Malayia and its islands. As an instance of their child-like belief in spirits, and of the strange way in which such an idea is supported by optical delusions common to these latitudes, I may here recount an event which no more than amused me at the time, although the strange way in which Jamboo and his men swore to having this day seen an Untoo" brought it back forcibly to my mind. 66 Just after the blockade commenced, in December of the previous year, my gun-boat was lying one night close to the southern point of Quedah river. The mist fell for a while like small rain upon us, but afterwards, at about ten o'clock, changed into fine weather, with heavy murky clouds overhead, through the intervals of which we had momentary gleams of light from a young moon. The air was cold and damp, and I naturally sought shelter under my tentshaped mat, although until midnight I considered myself responsible for a vigilant look-out being kept. About eleven o'clock my attention was called to the look-out man, who, seated upon the bow-gun, was spitting violently, and uttering some expressions as if in reproof or defiance, and continued to do so very frequently. Ignorant at that time of the character of my crew, such a peculiar proceeding made me restless. Presently I saw another man go up to him; he pointed in the direction of the jungle, and both repeated the conduct which had attracted my attention: the second man then walked below, as if glad to get off deck. Fairly puzzled, I walked forward. The look-out man had got his back turned to the jungle, but was every now and then casting glances over his shoulder in a very furtive manner, and muttering sentences in which Allah was invoked very earnestly. He seemed glad to see me, and jumped up to salute me. 66 Anything new ?" I asked. "Prahus ?" "Teda, Touhan. No sir!" was the answer; and then seeing me looking towards the jungle, he made signs with his head that it was better to look elsewhere. I immediately called Jamboo, the interpreter, and desired him to ask what the Malay saw in the jungle. Jamboo, as usual, sat down, black-fellow fashion, on his hams, and, half asleep, drawled out my question, and then coolly said, "He says he saw a spirit, sir." "Nonsense!" I replied. "Ask him how? or where? It may be some Malay scouts." Again Jamboo made an effort, and the oracle informed me, that the man had distinctly seen an Untoo, or spirit, moving about among the trees close to the water's edge: he assured me he had seen it ever since the mist cleared off, and that he had been praying and expectorating, to prevent it approaching the gunboat, as it was a very bad sort of spirit, very dangerous, and robed in a long dress. " I expostulated with Jamboo for repeating such a nonsensical tale, and said, 'Explain to the man it is impossible; and that, if anything, it must be an animal, or a man." Jamboo, however, assured me, very earnestly, that Malays often saw "Untoos;" that they were some of them dangerous, some harmless; and that, if I looked, the Malay said, I could see it as well as himself. I accordingly sat down by the man, and looked intently in the same direction. We were about one hundred and fifty yards off the jungle; the water was just up to its edge; among the roots of trees, and for a few yards in, there were small ridges of white shingle and broken shells, which receded into darkness, or shone out in distinct relief as the moonlight struck upon them. When these patches of white shone out, I pointed immediately, and asked if that was what he saw. "No, no!" said the Malay; and Jamboo added, "He says he will tell you when he sees it." Suddenly he touched me, and pointing earnestly, exclaimed, "Look! look!" I did so, and an odd tremor, I am not ashamed to say, ran through my frame, as I caught sight of what looked like the figure of a female with drapery thrown around her, as worn by Hindoo women: it moved out from the shade of the forest, and halted at one of the hillocks of white sand, not more than three hundred yards distant. I rubbed my eyes! whilst the interpreter called on a Romish saint, and the Malay spat vigorously, as if an unclean animal had crossed his path. Again I looked, and again I saw the same form: it had passed a dark patch, and was slowly crossing another opening in the forest. Feeling the folly of yielding to the impression of reality which the illusion was certainly creating on my mind, I walked away, and kept the Malay employed in different ways until midnight: he, however, every now and then spat vehemently, and cursed all evil spirits with true Mahometan fervour. In the middle-watch the "Untoo" was again seen, but as it did not board us, -as Jadee assured me "Untoos" of a wicked description had been known to do,-I conjectured it was some good fairy, and at any rate we were not again troubled with an Untoo, until it appeared to the fishing party in the Setouè river. This, it is to be observed, was not solely a Malay vision or "optical deception." Captain Osborn was a participator in the delusion-if it was one-and we feel, from what follows, that he would write differently on the matter, only that he has not the courage to dare the sneers and the ridicule of the scoffer: Cold philosophy and the sceptic's science may build up walls of impossibilities, and steel our hearts to the belief that those who have laboured for good or evil upon earth shall return no more to encourage or to warn us in our wayfaring here. Who will believe them, but those that are of them? Rather let us rejoice that, even if it be an infirmity of imaginative minds, we are blest in believing that "the beloved and true-hearted come to visit us once more." "Mortal," they softly say, Have been as thou art; Tried, troubled, tempted, Sustained, as thou art." THE AQUEDUCT OF SEGOVIA. FROM THE GERMAN OF ROSALIE KOCH. SEGOVIA, a rather important town in Spain, is remarkable for an aqueduct, 200 feet high, and 2535 feet long, entirely built of black granite, the blocks of which are firmly bound together, as if for eternity, although without mortar and cement. The spring which supplies this aqueduct with water takes its source in the mountains of Fuenfria, situated rather more than three hours' drive from the town. From this distance, considerable though it be, the pillars and arches begin, rising higher and higher, until, towering far above the gable-ends of the houses and the hill of Segovia, they at length offer their refreshing gift to the inhabitants of the town upon the great square of St. Sebastian. In the last of these enormous arches there is one single stone wanting, and the legend relates, that the hand of man cannot succeed in filling up this gap. The whole construction of this splendid aqueduct marks so stupendous a conception, that in former times it was looked upon as a work of supernatural power. It has defied for two thousand years the ravages of time, and from generation to generation the following legend of its origin has been handed down: There lived once at Segovia a pious old clergyman, who had adopted and brought up in his house the daughter of an unfortunate sister of his, who had been long dead. Martha had to attend to the household affairs, the kitchen and the washing, and to do everything herself without the assistance of a maid-servant; for the good priest shared his slender income so liberally with the poor, that he was obliged to be as economical as possible in his own home. In those times there was not a single spring in Segovia, and the inhabitants were forced to take a two hours' walk in order to fetch water into town. This was a great task to Martha; for, notwithstanding the fatigues of a day spent in active employment, she had every evening to wend her weary way to the mountains of Fuenfria, with one pitcher upon her head, and the other under her arm, to bring water for the following day's use. Nevertheless, she liked to have her rooms always clean, and to have the neckhandkerchiefs and collars of the worthy pastor beautifully washed. One evening, after a warm and fatiguing day, Martha was particularly impatient and dejected at this task. "Ah!" said she, thoughtlessly, "I would give my very soul if I had not to run so far every day to fill these pitchers afresh with water." "Done! Agreed!" suddenly exclaimed a finely-toned voice behind her. She started, and, on looking round, she beheld an elegantlydressed gentleman, smiling as he contemplated her. The last rays of the evening sun beamed through the small window in the kitchen, and poor Martha fancied that the velvet mantle of the stranger shone bloodred. She was at first terrified at the unexpected appearance of a gentleman, not being able to understand how he could have come there; but as her visitor had nothing terrible about him, and wore a hat and sword like a cavalier of rank, she took courage and said, smiling, "Yes, so be it, if these pitchers are filled with spring water, without my having to move them from this spot. I am much too tired to-day!" "Tis well, my child!" replied the stranger. "You shall hear from me again." And with these words he bent over the large stone pitchers which stood on the ground, then disappeared as suddenly as he had come. When Martha was alone she became uneasy, and she reflected seriously upon the words which she had uttered in jest. "It was very wrong of me," said she, ashamed of herself; "one ought not to jest on such subjects. Who could the strange gentleman have been? I wonder if he has called to see my uncle?" She was about to take up her pitcher and set off along the well-known road, but she started on perceiving that the jugs were already filled to the brim with pure, clear water. "Lord of Heaven !" cried she, in great anxiety, "if that man really were the prince of hell, and I have promised him my soul merely because I was too lazy to do my duty! What have I done, thoughtless being that I am!" And she hid her face in her hands, and wept bitterly. In the anguish of her heart she related the matter to her uncle; he was shocked in the extreme. At length, however, he said, "Take courage, your thoughtlessness shall not draw into the power you of the wicked one! Pray to God for help, and forgiveness of the sin which you have committed, unfortunate girl! Then with a loud voice summon into your presence the Prince of Darkness. I shall remain near you, and support you!" With fear and trembling Martha did as the old man commanded her, and immediately the stranger appeared in the middle of the room; but this time he was not dressed in silks and velvets, nor had he a sword by his side; he looked rather like a bricklayer, and held a spade in his hand. "What do you want with me?" asked he, impatiently; “I have fulfilled your wish, and need not serve you further." The pastor at this moment stepped forward from the shadow of the door, and said, in a solemn tone, "I have a word to speak to you, for the soul of this child, which you seek to win, is confided to me. Who has given you power over her?" "Herself!" answered the stranger, severely. "She is still young, and has no will of her own yet,” declared the pastor. "Not at all," was the sneering reply; "the girl has had teaching and religious instruction enough, and knows right well the meaning of what you term sin." The good old man shuddered, and made the sign of the cross, but the fiend continued unmoved: - "Come what may, she now belongs to me. She will either keep her word, and then I shall take her soul for the service which I have rendered |