ses of green,--and all bathed in the glorious sunlight. We
sat spellbound, and finally descended the long flight of stairs feeling
we had had a morning's experience which never could be repeated. In the
words of Dr. Gronneman (to whom we owe a debt of gratitude for his
explanations), "upwards of a thousand years have since rolled over the
Boro Boedor; earthquakes and ash showers have disjointed its walls, and
rank vegetation has disintegrated its foundation, ... and shortsighted
fanatics have defaced its works of art, but still the ruin stands there,
an imposing fact, a powerful creation of the thinking mind, an epic in
stone, immortal even in its decadence."

We walked to the pleasant rest house, called Passagrahan, for our
luncheon. Soon the rain which had threatened us fell in torrents, but
neither this fact nor any other obstacle dimmed our enthusiasm as we
sped on our homeward way. To prove my own absorption in the day's
programme I would state that I amused the party on our arrival at the
train by saying to our Malay servant, "Buddha, will you take my wrap?"
his name being Pandox.

The next morning I drove about Djokjakarta in search of photographs and
found the place much more attractive than I had supposed. One long
avenue of trees in particular impressed me; on alternate sides were the
tamarind and the canary tree, forming a perfect arch overhead. This
continued for a long way, and there were various other shaded streets
that attracted my attention.

Djokjakarta is a place of importance, the capital of a native State; the
Sultan preserves some semblance of power and lives in regal style,
keeping up all the ceremonials of his high office. This was one of the
last provinces to yield to Dutch rule. There is a Dutch resident to
whom the Sultan must pay deference and from whom he accepts advice. We
did not see the Sultan, but we saw four sons of his out driving, dressed
in red and each carrying a red silk umbrella, the emblem of royalty.

[Illustration: _A public square in Djokjakarta, Java_]

The life at Djokjakarta is much like that of old Java, and the peasants
are said to be of a higher type than those corresponding to the coolie
class in India and Ceylon, many of this class in Java being Sudanese.
There are several strains of blood in Java, and a mixture of Arab
ancestry with Mohammedan faith; for centuries, Java passed through many
transitions, and it would be interesting to trace her history backward.