noises. Those in the company of the "owner" at such times may feel justly frightened. The more courageous of them may be inclined to use their weapons. But the master of the akuan will keep on urging: "Be reverent and silent. It is nothing. It is our protector. It need not cause any alarm, nor should any harm be done. There is no danger." And so on and so forth. What he says always turns out true, and never a mishap has been heard of, though the monster really does keep pace with them not many yards away. Besides these the tiger would do the master other services also. Such little courtesies as scaring away thieves and mischief-makers from his house are common-place examples. Popular belief goes even so far as to say that, in extraordinary cases, the "owner" even rides on the tiger when he goes out at night.
I know an old woman at Bukit Kerdas (Jĕmpul) who died three years ago and who, besides having a reputation as a fairly successful medicine-woman, was believed to have akuan of both descriptions. The spirit type were seven in number, scattered all over the country, and the animal type was in the form of a tiger. Her husband from whom, it is said, she inherited these akuan as well as her art of medicine, had died many years previously. Many people believed that the husband turned into a tiger after his death (see "The Tiger-Breed Families" Journal 85, pp. 36-39) and that the tiger-akuan was no other than himself. The spirit-akuan were conjured many times. Once the old woman herself was seriously ill. In her illness she herself invoked their assistance, and she got better. But during her last illness nothing came, and she died. The tiger-akuan, on the other hand, used to accompany her when she went into the forest, or was going out at night. Besides, the animal always came to the rescue whenever she or any member of her family happened to fall into circumstances which made them wish for companionship and protection. Many curious incidents occured as evidence of the animal's attention. One, quite romantic, was as follows: The old woman had a pretty daughter (who is still alive). As is usual with love-sick Malay swains, those who entertain a fancy for a girl, delight to go stealthily to the house of their lady-love at night to be able to steal fuller glimpses (mĕngintai) of her face and doings than they could ever do anywhere during the day. Now, in the present case, two lads were specially enamoured of the young lady. One night the two arranged to go to měngintai to the house. Many friends had warned them that the house was always guarded by the old woman's tiger. But partly impelled by the desire to test the report and more especially by mad love, they decided to act against the warning. When they reached the house and each bad taken up a position to command the view through the chinks in the bamboo walls and floor, they succeeded in enjoying the coveted sight only for a few moments. On one of them turning round to relieve his strained neck and eyes, he found himself, to his unspeakable horror, face to face with a tiger, sitting about two yards from him and watching
