Page:Scented isles and coral gardens- Torres Straits, German New Guinea and the Dutch East Indies, by C.D. Mackellar, 1912.pdf/358

272 thought perhaps he was ill and needed sympathy, so I returned the length of the huge building and along the balcony.

“Are you ill—are you well—are you all right?”’ I asked.

He looked astonished, then said, “All right.”

“That’s all right,” I said, and departed, feeling satisfied and quite unable to prolong this interest- ing conversation. I have since discovered his vocabulary is limited to “Ah!” “Yes and No,” “Pretty well,” “Not bad,’ and “All right.” It simplifies life.

A suspicion has just dawned on me that two of my attendants are his—they seem familiar somehow. But I don’t know where any of them come from—if they are hotel servants, or his, or mine, or whose. I just accept the situation— it suits the climate. Anyway, already they are by way of “taking care of me,” and grinning faces—all the same—and flying pigtails are everywhere.

My programme is, after my morning tub, to go and lie in my pyjamas with bare feet in my long chair. My tea is there, fruit, smoking material, books, and a Singapore newspaper. If I want anything I pull the nearest passing bell- rope—I mean pigtail—and point at something. They are wonderful, though; they know now even without my pointing. I notice, too, they have suddenly coiled their pigtails in an elegant coronet round their heads. I wonder why? I never see any one attending to my neighbour next door, but I can’t help that. All my bag- gage is unpacked, strewn about, and in process of repair and cleaning. They did it all unasked, so I don’t worry.

The first night I got into a rickshaw, and said I must be driven—or whatever you say in a