later. I will tell you of it,
that you may write his name in your histories by the side of the name
of the murdered Sultan of Mexico."

The eyes of the little man flashed, and he looked squarely into mine
for the first time. Possibly he may have detected a smile on my face,
at the thought of placing this leader of a band of pirates side by
side in history with the once ruler of the richest empire in the New
World, for he paused in the midst of his narrative and said rapidly:--

"Must I tell you what your own writers tell of the rulers of our
country, to make you credit my tale? It is all here," he said,
pointing to his head. "Everything that relates to my home I know. King
Emmanuel of Portugal wrote to his High Kadi at Rome, that his general,
the cruel Albuquerque, had sailed to the Aurea Chersonese, called
by the natives Malacca, and found an enormous city of twenty-five
thousand houses, that abounded in spices, gold, pearls, and precious
stones. Was Montezuma's capital greater?" he triumphantly asked.

"It was as great then as Singapore is today. Albuquerque captured it,
and built a fortress at the mouth of the river, making the walls
fifteen feet thick, all from the ruins of our mosques. This was
in 1513."

"Forgive me," I said hastily, "if I have seemed to cast doubt on the
relative importance of your country."

There was a Malay kampong, or village, to our right. Under the
heavy green and yellow fronds of a cocoanut grove were a half-dozen
picturesque palm-thatched houses. They were built up on posts six
feet from the ground, and a dozen men and children scampered down
their rickety ladders, as a shrill blast from our whistle aroused
them from their slumbers. Pressed against the wooden bars of their
low, narrow windows, we could make out the comely, brown faces
of the women. The punghulo, or chief, walked sedately out to the
beach, and touched his forehead to the ground as he recognized his
superior. The sunlight broke through the enwrapping cocoanuts, and
brought out dazzling white splotches on the sandy floor before the
houses. We passed a little space of wiry lallang grass, which was
waving in the faint breeze, and radiating long, irregular lines of
heat, that under our glasses resembled the marking of watered silk,
and were once more abreast the green walls of the impenetrable jungle.

"The Dato Mamat captured a Portuguese ship within a man's voice from
the harbor of Malacca. On it was the foreign Gover