pains or
penalties of poverty, as experienced in Northern climes, the simple
life close to the heart of Nature suggests ideas of Eden's unshadowed
joy. Amid the treasures of memory garnered during the winter's
wanderings through the Malay Archipelago, the unclouded merriment which
endows these children of Nature remains as the deepest impression
stamped on the memory of the Western pilgrim. European childhood, at
the best and brightest, but faintly approaches this spontaneous gaiety,
the special attribute of untutored souls in a world of primal
innocence.

At Soemalata the steep declivities of wooded mountains enclose the
harbour, and a narrow pass leads to the gold mines, where the process
of smelting and separating the ore takes place in a primitive series of
conduits, sluices, mills, and pounding machines. The gold concession
granted by the local Rajah prospers in European hands, but the barbaric
chieftain adheres to the ancient custom of having the gold washed from
the river sand by his own slaves. The English engineer of the mines
hails a compatriot with delight, and his explanation of the complicated
machinery ends with a welcome invitation to tea in his pretty
bungalow. A solitary Englishman is frequently found stationed in the
remotest outposts of civilisation throughout the Malay Archipelago,
enduring a life of unexampled loneliness with the tenacity and
determination inherent in national character. The oft-receding vision
of a successful future inspires the dauntless heart less than a sense
of present duty, and these exiles from the social ties of nation and
kindred possess special claims on sympathy and remembrance. Lovely
lanes of palm and banana, brightened by trees of crimson poinsettia,
wind upward to the hills, and a cluster of green islets gems the blue
waters; the scarlet-stemmed Banka palm offering a glowing contrast to
the sweeping emerald of the feathery fronds. The little settlement of
Kwandang, with a gold _fabrik_ occupying a wooded islet, completes the
circuit of the western coast, for the North-Eastern Cape comprises a
distinctive province, requiring a separate chapter. Intervening
mountains, with jagged cliffs and towering summits, rise like Titanic
fortresses from the creaming surf which washes the yellow bastions,
leaving no space for the wicker _campongs_, impermanent as a child's
house of cards, but perpetually rebuilt in identical fashion, and never
developing into substantial dwellings