dland, sometimes
the open ground predominating. We only passed through one small patch
of true forest, where we were shaded by lofty trees, and saw around us a
dark and dense vegetation, highly agreeable after the heat and glare of
the open country.

At length, about an hour after noon, we reached our destination--the
village of Coupang, situated nearly in the centre of the island--and
entered the outer court of a house belonging to one of the chiefs
with whom my friend Mr. Ross had a slight acquaintance. Here we were
requested to seat ourselves under an open den with a raised floor of
bamboo, a place used to receive visitors and hold audiences. Turning our
horses to graze on the luxuriant glass of the courtyard, we waited until
the great man's Malay interpreter appeared, who inquired our business
and informed us that the Pumbuckle (chief) was at the Rajah's house, but
would soon be back. As we had not yet breakfasted, we begged he would
get us something to eat, which he promised to do as soon as possible. It
was however about two hours before anything appeared, when a small tray
was brought containing two saucers of rice, four small fried fish, and a
few vegetables. Having made as good a breakfast as we could, we strolled
about the village, and returning, amused ourselves by conversation
with a number of men and boys who gathered around us; and by exchanging
glances and smiles with a number of women and girls who peeped at us
through half-opened doors and other crevices. Two little boys named
Mousa and Isa (Moses and Jesus) were great friends with us, and an
impudent little rascal called Kachang (a bean) made us all laugh by his
mimicry and antics.

At length, about four o'clock, the Pumbuckle made his appearance, and we
informed him of our desire to stay with him a few days, to shoot birds
and see the country. At this he seemed somewhat disturbed, and asked if
we had brought a letter from the Anak Agong (Son of Heaven) which is the
title of the Rajah of Lombock. This we had not done, thinking it quite
unnecessary; and he then abruptly told us that he must go and speak to
his Rajah, to see if we could stay. Hours passed away, night came,
and he did not return. I began to think we were suspected of some evil
designs, for the Pumbuckle was evidently afraid of getting himself into
trouble. He is a Sassak prince, and, though a supporter of the present
Rajah, is related to some of the heads of a conspiracy which was quelle