the forest
rose black and impenetrable, the shadows deepened by the firelight of
the camp. In the clear sky overhead the glorious Eastern stars were
shining steadfastly, and at our feet a tiny stream pattered busily on
the pebbles of its bed. Around the fire, and reddened by its light, sat
or lay my three Malays, bare to the waist, but clothed in their bright
_sarongs_ and loose short trousers. The Semang, of both sexes and all
ages, coal black, save where the gleams of the fire painted them a dull
red, and nude, save for a narrow strip of coarse bark cloth twisted
round their loins, lay on their stomachs with their chins propped upon
their elbows, or squatted on their hams, smoking placidly. A curious
group to look upon we must have been could any one have seen us: I, the
European, the white man, belonging to one of the most civilised races in
the Old World; the Malays, civilised too, but after the fashion of
unchanging Asia, which differs so widely from the restless progressive
civilisation of the West; and, lastly, the Semangs, squalid savages,
nursing no ambitions save those prompted by their empty stomachs, with
no hope of change or improvement in their lot, and yet representing one
of the oldest races in the world--a race which, though it first
possessed the East, with all its possibilities and riches, could utilise
none of them, and whose members carry in their eyes the melancholy look
of dumb animals, which, when seen on the human countenance, denotes a
people who are doomed to speedy extinction, and who, never since time
began, have had their day or have played a part in human history.

Tobacco upon the mind of man has much the same effect as that which hot
water has upon tea-leaves, or, indeed, as that which that beverage
itself has on the majority of women. It calls out much that, without its
aid, would remain latent and undeveloped. For human beings this means
words, and, while we dignify our own speech over our tobacco by the name
of conversation, we are apt to dispose of that of the ladies round a
tea-table by labelling it gossip. Among a primitive people conversation
means either broken remarks about the material things of life--the food
which is sorely needed and is hard to come by, the boat which is to be
built, or the weapon which is to be fashioned--or else it takes the form
of a monologue, in which the speaker tells some tale of his own or
another's experiences to those who sit and listen. Thus it wa