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  FROM JUNGLE TO JAVA

  THE TRIVIAL IMPRESSIONS OF A
  SHORT EXCURSION TO NETHERLANDS INDIA.


  BY ARTHUR KEYSER,

  AUTHOR OF
  "OUR CRUISE IN NEW GUINEA," "CUT BY THE MESS,"
  "AN EXILE'S ROMANCE," ETC., ETC.


  [Publisher's Logo]


  THE
  ROXBURGHE PRESS,
  LIMITED,
  FIFTEEN, VICTORIA STREET,
  WESTMINSTER.




  CONTENTS


      I. A SELECT COMMUNITY                 1

     II. THE START                          7

    III. SINGAPORE                         14

     IV. ON THE WAY TO JAVA                19

      V. BATAVIA                           23

     VI. AN OFFICIAL CALL                  34

    VII. A CONCERT AT THE CONCORDIA CLUB   39

   VIII. CONCERNING THE LOMBOH WAR         44

     IX. BUITENZORG                        49

      X. CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES              56

     XI. AN UNTIMELY CALL                  62

    XII. A MODEL ESTATE                    66

   XIII. AMONG THE ROSES                   76

    XIV. GARVET                            84

     XV. BATHS AND VOLCANOES               89

    XVI. THE QUEST FOR A MOTHER            94

   XVII. THE QUEST CONTINUED. TJILATJAP    99

  XVIII. THE QUEST SUCCESSFUL. THE
           WODENA'S HOUSE                 109

    XIX. A VILLAGE HOME IN JAVA           115

     XX. BACK TO THE JUNGLE               120




FROM JUNGLE TO JAVA




CHAPTER I.

A SELECT COMMUNITY.


Mr. X., whose impressions and mild adventures I have undertaken the task
of editing, has asked me to narrow his personal introduction to such
limits as is consistent with the courtesy due to my readers, if haply I
find any. He prefers, as his pseudonym implies, to remain an unknown
quantity. I need only explain that he is an officer employed in one of
the small States of the Malay Peninsula, which are (very much) under the
protection of the Colonial Government of the Straits Settlements. The
latter, with careful forethought for their ease-loving rulers, appoints
officers to relieve them of all the cares and duties of administration,
and absolves them from the responsibility of a Government somewhat more
progressive in its policy than might commend itself to Oriental ideas,
if left without such outside assistance.

As the title intimates, Mr. X.'s duties compel him to make his home in
the jungle. The word has many significations in the East, where it is
often used to express a region remote from civilization, although
perhaps consisting of barren mountains or treeless plains. Mr. X.'s
jungle, however, is one realizing what it represents to the untravelled
Englishman. It is a land of hill and dale covered with thickly growing
forest trees, with here and there by the side of the rivers, which are
Nature's thoroughfares, or the main roads made by man, small oases of
cultivation. It is a beautiful country, with a climate which those who
live in it--and they are the best witnesses--declare to be healthy and
agreeable. And the members of the small community who form the European
population take a personal pride in the amenities of their beautiful
retreat, with its perennial verdure, and glory in their "splendid
isolation." Criticisms are resented, and suggestions of indisposition
due to climatic influence held to be little short of traitorous. So, as
may be imagined, it was a matter of no ordinary interest when X. not
only complained of being unwell, but also developed signs of a chronic
discontent. For X.--no Mr. was necessary in that little round-table
club--certainly was unwell. Of this there could be no doubt, and such a
condition of body was little short of an abuse of the privileges of the
place. But since he could give no real explanation of his feelings, and
only sighed vaguely when engaged in the daily preprandial game of
billiards at the club, it was thought best to ignore his new departure,
and to leave the subject severely alone.

However, the effect of this wise treatment was entirely ruined by the
arrival of the doctor, who bore the sounding official designation of the
Residency surgeon. This gentleman was wont to be sceptical in the matter
of ailments, limiting his recognition only to honest, downright illness
worthy of the attention of a medico whose name stood in front of a
formidable array of honourable letters, too numerous for him to mention.
But even really