known as the Terra Ingrata.
Malarious mists steam from marsh and mere, pink and purple lantana,
yellow daisies, and the pallid blossoms of strangling creepers
emphasise the gloom of the matted foliage, forming an impenetrable
screen on either side of the narrow embankment across the dreary
morass. The railway through the hundred miles of this miasma-haunted
region was laid at immense sacrifice of human life, even the native
workmen being compelled to sleep in camps far away from the scene of
their daily toil. No white man could even direct the work, and the
ubiquitous Chinaman, proof against every ill that flesh is heir to in
Java, was deputed to superintend the solution of abstruse professional
problems, between the short and hasty visits of Dutch and English
engineers. Quagmire and quicksand, stagnant pool and sluggish stream,
succeed in weary iteration. Bleached skeletons of dead trees writhe in
weird contortions against the dark background of jungle, as though some
wizard's curse had blighted life and growth amid the rank vegetation
rising from this dismal Slough of Despond. The brooding melancholy of
atmosphere and scenery penetrates mind and soul, oppressed by an
intangible weight, and escape from the Dantesque horrors of this _selva
oscura_ is accompanied by a sudden relief and buoyancy of spirit which
perceptibly heightens the interest of the old-world city, once isolated
by the woodland fastness of Nature, and belonging to an ageless past,
surrounding the authentic origin of Djokjacarta with thick clouds of
fable and myth. The modern name is derived from Arjudja, a city
recorded in Java's ancient annals as being established by Rama, the
incarnate Sun-God. Na-yud-ja, the first king of this Divinely-founded
capital, also memorialises in his name the place which became the
nucleus of the ancient Hindu empire. Temples and palaces, walls and
watch-towers, ruined by earthquake, buried in jungle, and blackened by
smoke of war, testify to the splendours of old Mataram. A bitter
resistance was offered by the invading hordes of Islam, whether pirates
or prophets, princes or soldiers, and the Hindu territory remained
independent until the fierce conflict in the 18th century with
usurping Mohammedans and Dutch colonists, when family influence was
undermined by political intrigues. The Dutch, after many vicissitudes,
became absolute rulers of Java, though native princes, as tributaries,
were suffered to retain a semblance of