Also Perhap .... THE KRIS INCARNADINE

..... Sir Frank Swettenham...... 

It was that strange birth-mark, that silent witness

of the engine-room tragedy, which gained for me the

name of " The Kris ber-d&rah" and, as the people of

the island began with the change of monsoon and the

coming of fair weather to visit the mainland, there

was a good deal of talk of this latest creation of Tukang

Burok, the famous fashioner of the snake-like kris. In

time the tale reached the ear of the Sultan to whom

the island belonged, and, when he had heard all that

could be said by the jealous, the spiteful and the

marvel-tellers, he sent a message to Tukang Burok

summoning him to come into the presence, and to

bring the " kris blr-darah" Tukang Burok obeyed,

as how should he not ; but it was with misgivings that

he received the message, which he knew meant the

loss of his darling, if no worse should befall him. Like

all true artists, he valued his creation more than any

p Blood-stained, stranger could, for he knew that it was the best work he had ever done, and the stain, the crimson blot

that sometimes looked like wet blood well, that was

magic, it was fate, it was fame it would carry his

name, through ages and generations, wherever the

Malay language was spoken.

Tukang Burok had made a beautiful scabbard from

the heart of the kamumng tree a fitting casket for the

jewel that he had determined no money should buy

from him. A handle, too, he had fashioned, a handle

of ivory, wrought cunningly into the likeness of a

bird's head and neck, the form of kris-hilt handed

down, as the Malays say, from " the time of the first

day." Then, in obedience to the Sultan's command,

he sailed across the sea in a little boat with his son a

boy in his teens, and on a morning when an opal

haze hung over the water, the palm-fringed shore, and

the picturesque village spread along the sweeping

curve within a wide river's mouth, they tacked slowly

into the haven and made fast to the rude landingstage.

The smith landed with his son, and, having stated

his business, was told to call at the Sultan's audience

hall a little before noon. This he did, and found his

royal master sitting, with a few of his chiefs and henchmen,

on the raised dais just outside the curtain that

hung over the door into " the Within," where dwelt

the Sultan's wives and all his women folk. The smith

made obeisance and sat down afar oft, on the lowest

step of the audience hall, the kris carefully covered by

the skirt which every Malay wears over his trousers,

and which reaches from waist to knee. The smith's

child also made obeisance and sat down behind his

father.

Presently the Sultan called, "Is that Tukang

Burok?" and the smith answered, "It is your

Highness's slave.""Approach !"said the Sultan, and the smith

humbly drew himself to a place near his master, but

still beneath him.

The Sultan desired him to come up on to the same

level with himself, and finally Tukang Burok squatted

on the floor within a few feet of his lord. But the boy

remained on the bottom step below the dais.

After some questions as to when the smith arrived,

how long the voyage had taken, and what weather he

had had, the Sultan said :

" Hast thou brought the kris ?

" And the smith

replied,

" It is here, your Highness."

" Give it," said the Sultan ;

" we wish to see it.

The report is that the kris is a marvel."

" Thy servant's work is indifferent," said the smith,

" but by God's grace the kris is not a very bad one.

Have I your Highness's permission ?

" he added, as he

put his hand to his waist. The Sultan signified his

consent, and Tukang Burck slowly uncovered the hilt

of the kris, drew from his belt the weapon (still in its

scabbard), and, leaning forward till he was almost prostrate,

presented it with the handle towards the Sultan.

The Sultan took it, looked at the scabbard and the

handle, and then slowly drew the blade from the

sheath and gazed long and earnestly at it, holding it

in different lights and different positions to see all its

points.

As he realised the marvellous perfection of the

design, the admirable balance, the wonderful damascening

of the blade, the cunning fashion of the

dragon at the base, the graceful curves and the long,

clean run to the point, a hungry look of exceeding

avarice and cruelty came into his eyes, and his hand

involuntarily closed tightly on the hilt in a grip

that told me he did not mean to let me go.

" What is this red mark ? "he said. " Some

cunning trick of yours, we suppose."

"Nay, your Highness," said the smith,

" it is none of my making, it came like that of itself."

"A lie !"said the Sultan," but though your name

is bad "for " Burok " means damaged " the kris

is well enough. What is the price of it ? "

" A thousand pardons, your Highness," said the

smith, who knew that the evil moment had come,

" your slave had no intention of selling the kris."

"Ah, you dog ! "said the Sultan, in fury of real

desire and simulated anger,"you do not want to

sell ? Then you shall not. You bastard ! you dare to

make a weapon and try to hide it from your master ?

But you shall never make another, and we will see

whether you are such a clever smith as you pretend."

With that the Sultan sprang up and drove me straight

into Tukang Burok's throat, down through bone

and muscle, till the point of the blade must have

reached the smith's heart. He gasped out,

" God ! my Lord, God Almighty !" and fell forward on his face

with a horrible gurgle of blood-choking in his throat.

Every one had jumped to his feet, and, as they

raised Tukang Burok, the Sultan, with some difficulty,

pulled me out of the body, and a great stream of blood

gushed on to the floor and dyed the boards with the

colour of my name.

"It is a good weapon, after all," said the Sultan,

with a chuckle, as he picked up the sheath and retired

behind the curtain. There he carefully cleaned the

blade, and expressed great astonishment and delight

at the fact that the crimson stain shone brighter

than ever against its silver-grey background.

No one had noticed the boy, the smith's son ;

but when he saw his father murdered, he had run

out of the hall and courtyard sobbing as though his

heart would break. Presently, those about the Sultan

remembered him, and asked their master what should

be done with the child and his father's boat. His

Highness generously consented to make use of both,

and the boy was ordered into the King's household

to hew wood and draw water and make himself

generally useful. But the Sultan carried me in his

girdle by day, placed me by his pillow at night, and

never ceased to sing my praises and make opportunities

for trying my penetrating powers on those of his

subjects whom he desired to get rid of.

To describe my existence while I remained in

the possession of the Sultan would be to catalogue

a long list of revolting murders. If you know the

life of an independent Malay Raja of evil tendencies,

you will understand the circumstances und-er which

he personally uses a weapon on his subjects in time

of peace ; if you don't, what I have told you of

the death of the smith is sufficient, without my

enlightening you further. My release came about

through the boy. Tukang Burok's son, mindful of

his father's death and eager for a vengeance which

all his traditions forbade him to exact, waited till

he had grown to be a man, and then stole me, the

Kris Incarnadine, and after many perils and adventures

made his way through the jungles of the Peninsula,

across the pathless hills and swamps, to the country

of the wild people, and thence to the states bordering

the western shores of Malaya. Burdened by the

knowledge of my now widespread fame, fearful of

the consequences to himself should his identity be

recognised by the weapon he carried, and driven to

desperation by poverty, he sold me to a Celebes chief,

an exile from his own country, with a record likely

to induce him to make the most of his bargain and

keep his own counsel as to what he had secured

and its value.

I was not sorry for the change or ownership. For

though I hated being used as a butcher's knife to

slaughter the defenceless, and had rejoiced to find

myself in the possession of the son of the man who

had expended all his skill in fashioning me to be

a warrior's pride and held of more account than

any woman ; yet, the boy's hunted life and poor

estate deprived me of my birthright, sentenced me to

a mean and wretched existence, wherein I counted

for little and was often for days and weeks allowed

to rust in my sheath.

The Buggis man (that is what the Malays call the

people of Celebes) took a pride in me and appreciated

my value, though he did not know my name or

history. Neither by day nor night was I ever separated

from him ; for, in the daytime, he carried me in his

belt, and at night I lay beside his pillow, ready to

his hand.

One night, my new owner was sleeping in the house

of a district chief whose guest he was, as were others

not in any way connected with him. It was a time

of trouble, and the air was full of rumours of fighting,

our host barricading his house every night. It was a

large house, with many rooms, for the owner was the

principal chief in that neighbourhood. The people of

the house were many ; men and women, boys and

girls, but principally girls, who did all the house-work

of their feudal chief and his wife. The men and the

boys went and came, and, from the talk of the mistress,

I understood that they had charge of some valuable

mines at a little distance. But the girls were always

there, busy about the house-duties, looking after

children, making mats, embroidering pillows, and

waiting upon the guests. Some of them were wellfavoured,

some ill, but there was one who, according

to Malay ideas of beauty, was a pearl, a fragrant

blossom, a heart's delight and despair. The guests

were also many and they often succeeded each other ;

but, whether they travelled by road or river, they all

gravitated towards this house at the hour of the evening

meal, and then, Malay-like, they would talk far into

the night of fights and weapons, of women and money,

until, in sheer exhaustion, they lay down with a pillow

and mat on any vacant space of floor, and slept ;

grunting and moaning, snoring and mumbling in their

dreams, till day dawned.

We had been in the house for three or four days,

and, amongst others, there was a young fellow of some

authority, with a swaggering manner and a facile

tongue, who talked to the old lady of the house the

while he was ogling her most ravoured attendants.

He seemed to be a favourite, for, one night when

every one was getting ready for sleep, the hostess gave

up her bed to him and went elsewhere ; while, of the

rest, my master, the Buggis, was the only one who

remained in the room, and he slept on a mat on the

floor, his head on a pillow, after placing me close

beside him, on the mat, ready for instant use.

It must have been in the first or second hours of the

new day, when the snores of some of the many sleepers

in different parts of the house were the only sounds

to break the stillness, that the patch-work curtain,

surrounding the great square bed-place of our hostess,

was slowly lifted, and the guest, to whom it had been

allotted, emerged noiselessly and then stood still, looking

round the room, which was vaguely lighted by a tiny

wick swimming in a vessel of oil.

compliment to sabrizain and his collection