if he had known it, he had something else im his soul which occupied him. . . . He counted the treasures which he was carrying home. In a roll of bamboo he had his passport and a certificate of good conduct. In a case, which was fastened to a leathern girdle, something heavy seemed to sling continually against his shoulder, but he liked to feel that. . . . And no wonder! . . . this contained thirty piastres,[1] enough to buy three buffaloes! What would Adinda say? And this was not all. On his back could be seen the silver-covered sheath of the kris,[2] which he wore in the girdle. The hilt was certainly very fine, for he had wound it round with a silk wrapper. And he had still more treasures! In the folds of the kahin[3] round his loins, he kept a belt of silver links, with gold ikat-pendieng.[4] It is true that the belt was short, but she was so slender. . . . Adinda!
And suspended by a cord round his neck, under his baadjoe,[5] he wore a small silk bag, in which were some withered leaves of the ‘melatti.’
Was it a wonder that he stopped no longer at Sangerang than was necessary to visit the acquaintances of his father who made such fine straw hats? Was it a wonder
