accustomed lethargic existence is
galvanised into a new fierce life. You can see that he is longing for
the battle, with an ardour that would have distanced that of a Quixote,
and, for the first time, you begin to see something to admire even in
the water-buffalo.

A crowd of _Rajas_, Chiefs, and commoners are assembled, in their gaily
coloured garments, which always serve to give life and beauty to every
Malay picture, with its setting of brilliant never-fading green. The
women in their gaudy silks, and dainty veils, glance coquettishly from
behind the fenced enclosure, which has been prepared for their
protection, and where they are quite safe from injury. The young _Rajas_
stalk about, examine the bulls, and give loud and contradictory orders,
as to the manner in which the fight is to be conducted. The keepers,
fortunately, are so deafened by the row which every one near them is
making, that they are utterly incapable of following directions which
they cannot hear. Malays love many people, and many things, and one of
the latter is the sound of their own voices. When they are excited--and
in the bull-ring they are always wild with excitement--they wax very
noisy indeed, and, as they all talk, and no one listens to what any one
else is saying, the green sward, on which the combat is to take place,
speedily becomes a pandemonium, compared with which the Tower of Babel
was a quiet corner in Sleepy Hollow.

At last the word to begin is given, and the keepers of the buffaloes let
out the lines made fast to the bull's noses, and lead their charges to
the centre of the green. The lines are crossed, and then gradually drawn
taut, so that the bulls are soon facing one another. Then the knots are
loosed, and the cords slip from the nose-rings. A dead silence falls
upon the people, and for a moment the combatants eye one another. Then
they rush together, forehead to forehead, with a mighty impact. A fresh
roar rends the sky, the backers of each beast shrieking advice, and
encouragement to the bull which carries their money.

After the first rush, the bulls no longer charge, but stand with
interlaced horns, straining shoulders, and quivering quarters, bringing
tremendous pressure to bear one upon the other, while each strives to
get a grip with the point of its horns upon the neck, or cheeks, or face
of its opponent. A buffalo's horn is not sharp, but the weight of the
animal is enormous, and you must remember that the horns ar