eral times, we retrimmed at the
request of the driver, and we kept the barang from falling upon him,
while he manipulated our three rakish adventurers from Battak. When an
unusually severe lurch nearly precipitated us into the deep storm-water
channel on the left or the carefully-irrigated paddy fields on the
right, Jehu turned round and grinned a grin of fiendish appreciation,
whilst we thanked with fervour the merciful Providence who preserved us
from destruction, and wondered how long one could hold out with a broken
limb, without surgical help, should the worst happen. It is the
unexpected that happens. We got to Sindanglaya without any more serious
damage than a bottle of Odol distributed amongst our best clothes.

Governor-General Daendels seems to have had a high opinion of this
remarkable highway. We read: "The obstinacy with which he carried
through his scheme of constructing the main road to the Preanger
Regencies across this summit is really amazing. He never shrank from the
terrible death-rate among the wretched labourers, nor from the
difficulties and enormous cost to keep such a road in good condition,
for, especially in the west monsoon, heavy rain-showers are continually
washing the earth off the road. Yet it was by no means necessary." Let
this be Governor-General Daendels' epitaph!

Had not one's attention been distracted by the eccentric performances of
the kreta, one might well have admired the scenery. Close at hand, the
road teems with fascinating pictures of native life. Only occasionally
does one see a really beautiful face, but there is a pretty shyness such
as one seldom sees on the roads of a European country. Although we read
of the thirty millions of people in Java, there is still, apparently,
room for more, and nearly every woman has a brown baby slung upon the
hip and others dragging on her sarong, or seeking to efface themselves
behind her none too ample form. At intervals, old women or young
children keep shop, either in nipa huts or on mats under the shade of a
kanari-tree. In the kampongs or collections of neat little huts which
punctuate the way, a pasar (market) is being held, haberdashers with
cheap glass and fancy wares being in juxtaposition with dealers in
sarongs and the sellers of fruits and vegetables. On the stoeps of some
of the houses, groups of women spin or weave cloth for the native
sarong; some make deft use of the sewing machine of foreign commerce.

The road is frin