Thereafter, nightly, for many weeks, the cries of Awang as the boy was named-broke the peace of my compound during the midnight hour. Ma- layan custom was still busy with him, and the poor little wretch was being bathed ruthlessly in cold water, after being dragged out of his sleep for the purpose, and then was dried by being hekl face downward over a charcoal brazier. The pungent smoke choked his breath and pained his eyes, but he contrived to survive this and other drastic expe riences, though he bawled his protests and disapproval with a pair of sturdy lungs. Only a percentage of Malayan children live through the attentions of their mothers, but Iwang was among the survivals, and as soon as he was old enough to be allowed out. of the house, he became Ûmat's constant friend and companion. Long before he could speak he and his father appeared to have established a complete understanding, and later you could hear them hold- ing long conversations together, on the matting out. side my study door, for hours at a time.
As Awang grew big enough to use his legs, he used to patter nimbly round Ümat with an air which had in it something of protection. He was generally mother-naked, save that now and again a cap was set rakishly upon one side of his little bullet head. and when I spoke to him he used to wriggle in a most ingratiating fashion, and thrust his small hand half- way down his throat in his embarrassment. Îmat delighted in him, and his eyes followed him con- stantly, and though they were very dim, I used to
