but they were fetched out to make our acquaintance, and lined up in the grounds. Inside it was cool and airy, with black cement floors, to match the inmates. Out they came, the poor gaol-*birds, wild things of the woods, with the limitless forest to roam over, cooped up in a cell for following the natural bent of any wild animal to fight and kill. They have little sense of time, and their sentences are not for long; they spend nearly all their day in the open air. They stood in a pathetic little row in their dark blue prison dress, with their sooty, shaven heads. One was in chains, as being held to be dangerous and likely to give trouble. There seemed to be different types, some of them were much flatter-nosed than others. Most of them were in for murder; in two cases it had been provoked by cruelty. In one of these a white man had justly earned the hatred of his black neighbours. The case, said our friend, had been very well got up.[A] It was proved that the dead man was fishing for bêche-de-mer[B] one moonlight night; the natives whom he had injured lay in wait for him, and speared him to death. Morally they were
[Footnote A: An account of this interesting trial has been brilliantly given in "An Untamed Territory," Macmillan and Co., by Miss Elsie Masson.]
[Footnote B: In Malay called tripang.]
