CHAPTER VIII.

When you leave Locac and sail for 500 miles towards the south, you come to an island called Pentam, a very wild place. All the wood that grows thereon consists of odoriferous trees.{1} There is no more to say about it; so let us sail about sixty miles further between those two Islands. Throughout this distance there is but four paces’ depth of water, so that great ships in passing this channel have to lift their rudders, for they draw nearly as much water as that.{2}

And when you have gone these 60 miles, and again about 30 more, you come to an Island which forms a Kingdom, and is called Malaiur. The people have a King of their own, and a peculiar language. The city is a fine and noble one, and there is great trade carried on there. All kinds of spicery are to be found there, and all other necessaries of life.{3}

Note 1.—Pentam, or as in Ram. Pentan, is no doubt the Bintang of our maps, more properly Bentăn, a considerable Island at the eastern extremity of the Straits of Malacca. It appears in the list, published by Dulaurier from a Javanese Inscription, of the kingdoms conquered in the 15th century by the sovereigns reigning at Majapahit in Java. (J. A. sér. IV. tom. xiii. 532.) Bintang was for a long time after the Portuguese conquest of Malacca the chief residence of the Malay Sultans who had been expelled by that conquest, and it still nominally belongs to the Sultan of Johore, the descendant of those princes, though in fact ruled by the Dutch, whose port of Rhio stands on a small island close to its western shore. It is the Bintão of the Portuguese whereof Camoens speaks as the persistent enemy of Malacca (X. 57).

[Cf. Professor Schlegel’s Geog. Notes, VI. Ma-it; regarding the odoriferous trees, Professor Schlegel remarks (p. 20) that they were probably santal trees.—H. C.]

Note 2.—There is a good deal of confusion in the text of this chapter. Here we have a passage spoken of between “those two Islands,” when only one island seems to have been mentioned. But I imagine the other “island” in the traveller’s mind to be the continuation of the same Locac, i.e. the Malay Peninsula (included by him under that name), which he has coasted for 500 miles. This is confirmed by Ramusio, and the old Latin editions (as Müller’s): “between the kingdom of Locac and the Island of Pentan.” The passage in question is the Strait of Singapore, or as the old navigators called it, the Straits of Gobernador, having the mainland of the Peninsula and the Island of Singapore, on the one side, and the Islands of Bintang and Batang on the other. The length of the strait is roughly 60 geographical miles, or a little more; and I see in a route given in the Lettres Edifiantes (II. p. 118) that the length of navigation is so stated: “Le détroit de Gobernador a vingt lieues de long, et est fort difficile quand on n’y a jamais passé.”

The Venetian passo was 5 feet. Marco here alludes to the well-known practice with the Chinese junks of raising the rudder, for which they have a special arrangement, which is indicated in the cut at p. 248.

Note 3.—There is a difficulty here about the indications, carrying us, as they do, first 60 miles through the Strait, and then 30 miles further to the Island Kingdom and city of Malaiur. There is also a singular variation in the readings as to this city and island. The G. T. has “Une isle qe est roiame, et s’apelle Malanir e l’isle Pentam.” The Crusca has the same, only reading Malavir. Pauthier: “Une isle qui est royaume, et a nom Maliur.” The Geog. Latin: “Ibi invenitur una insula in qua est unus rex quem vocant Lamovich. Civitas et insula vocantur Pontavich.” Ram.: “Chiamasi la città Malaiur, e cosi l’isola Malaiur.”

All this is very perplexed, and it is difficult to trace what may have been the true readings. The 30 miles beyond the straits, whether we give the direction south-east as in G. T. or no, will not carry us to the vicinity of any place known to have been the site of an important city. As the point of departure in the next chapter is from Pentam and not from Malaiur, the introduction of the latter is perhaps a digression from the route, on information derived either from hearsay or from a former voyage. But there is not information enough to decide what place is meant by Malaiur. Probabilities seem to me to be divided between Palembang, and its colony Singhapura. Palembang, according to the Commentaries of Alboquerque, was called by the Javanese Malayo. The List of Sumatran Kingdoms in De Barros makes Tana-Malayu the next to Palembang. On the whole, I incline to this interpretation.

[In Valentyn (V. 1, Beschryvinge van Malakka, p. 317) we find it stated that the Malay people just dwelt on the River Malayu in the Kingdom of Palembang, and were called from the River Orang Malayu.—MS. Note.—H. Y.]

[Professor Schlegel in his Geog. Notes, IV., tries to prove by Chinese authorities that Maliur and Tana-Malayu are two quite distinct countries, and he says that Maliur may have been situated on the coast opposite Singapore, perhaps a little more to the S.W. where now lies Malacca, and that Tana-Malayu may be placed in Asahan, upon the east coast of Sumatra.—H. C.]

Singhapura was founded by an emigration from Palembang, itself a Javanese colony. It became the site of a flourishing kingdom, and was then, according to the tradition recorded by De Barros, the most important centre of population in those regions, “whither used to gather all the navigators of the Eastern Seas, from both East and West; to this great city of Singapura all flocked as to a general market.” (Dec. II. 6, 1.) This suits the description in our text well; but as Singhapura was in sight of any ship passing through the straits, mistake could hardly occur as to its position, even if it had not been visited.

I omit Malacca entirely from consideration, because the evidence appears to me conclusive against the existence of Malacca at this time.

The Malay Chronology, as published by Valentyn, ascribes the foundation of that city to a king called Iskandar Shah, placing it in A.D. 1252, fixes the reign of Mahomed Shah, the third King of Malacca and first Mussulman King, as extending from 1276 to 1333 (not stating when his conversion took place), and gives 8 kings in all between the foundation of the city and its capture by the Portuguese in 1511, a space, according to those data, of 259 years. As Sri Iskandar Shah, the founder, had reigned 3 years in Singhapura before founding Malacca, and Mahomed Shah, the loser, reigned 2 years in Johore after the loss of his capital, we have 264 years to divide among 8 kings, giving 33 years to each reign. This certainly indicates that the period requires considerable curtailment.

Again, both De Barros and the Commentaries or Alboquerque ascribe the foundation of Malacca to a Javanese fugitive from Palembang called Paramisura, and Alboquerque makes Iskandar Shah (Xaquem darxa) the son of Paramisura, and the first convert to Mahomedanism. Four other kings reign in succession after him, the last of the four being Mahomed Shah, expelled in 1511.

[Godinho de Eredia says expressly (Cap. i. Do Citio Malaca, p. 4) that Malacca was founded by Permicuri, primeiro monarcha de Malayos, in the year 1411, in the Pontificate of John XXIV., and in the reign of Don Juan II. of Castille and Dom Juan I. of Portugal.]

The historian De Couto, whilst giving the same number of reigns from the conversion to the capture, places the former event about 1384. And the Commentaries of Alboquerque allow no more than some ninety years from the foundation of Malacca to his capture of the city.

There is another approximate check to the chronology afforded by a Chinese record in the XIVth volume of Amyot’s collection. This informs us that Malacca first acknowledged itself as tributary to the Empire in 1405, the king being Sili-ju-eul-sula (?). In 1411 the King of Malacca himself, now called Peilimisula (Paramisura), came in person to the court of China to render homage. And in 1414 the Queen-Mother of Malacca came to court, bringing her son’s tribute.

Now this notable fact of the visit of a King of Malacca to the court of China, and his acknowledgment of the Emperor’s supremacy, is also recorded in the Commentaries of Alboquerque. This work, it is true, attributes the visit, not to Paramisura, the founder of Malacca, but to his son and successor Iskandar Shah. This may be a question of a title only, perhaps borne by both; but we seem entitled to conclude with confidence that Malacca was founded by a prince whose son was reigning, and visited the court of China in 1411. And the real chronology will be about midway between the estimates of De Couto and of Alboquerque. Hence Malacca did not exist for a century, more or less, after Polo’s voyage.

[Mr. C. O. Blagden, in a paper on the Mediæval Chronology of Malacca (Actes du XI^e Cong. Int. Orient. Paris, 1897), writes (p. 249) that “if Malacca had been in the middle of the 14th century anything like the great emporium of trade which it certainly was in the 15th, Ibn Batuta would scarcely have failed to speak of it.” The foundation of Malacca by Sri Iskandar Shah in 1252, according to the Sejarah Malayu “must be put at least 125 years later, and the establishment of the Muhammadan religion there would then precede by only a few years the end of the 14th century, instead of taking place about the end of the 13th, as is generally supposed” (p. 251). (Cf. G. Schlegel, Geog. Notes, XV.)—H. C.]

Mr. Logan supposes that the form Malayu-r may indicate that the Malay language of the 13th century “had not yet replaced the strong naso-guttural terminals by pure vowels.” We find the same form in a contemporary Chinese notice. This records that in the 2nd year of the Yuen, tribute was sent from Siam to the Emperor. “The Siamese had long been at war with the Maliyi or Maliurh, but both nations laid aside their feud and submitted to China.” (Valentyn, V. p. 352; Crawford’s Desc. Dict. art. Malacca; Lassen, IV. 541 seqq.; Journ. Ind. Archip. V. 572, II. 608–609; De Barros, Dec. II. 1. vi. c. 1; Comentarios do grande Afonso d’Alboquerque, Pt. III. cap. xvii.; Couto, Dec. IV. liv. ii.; Wade in Bowring’s Kingdom and People of Siam, I. 72.)

[From I-tsing we learn that going from China to India, the traveller visits the country of Shih-li-fuh-shi (Çrībhôja or simply Fuh-shi = Bhôja), then Mo-louo-yu, which seems to Professor Chavannes to correspond to the Malaiur of Marco Polo and to the modern Palembang, and which in the 10th century formed a part of Çribhôdja identified by Professor Chavannes with Zabedj. (I-tsing, p. 36.) The Rev. S. Beal has some remarks on this question in the Merveilles de l’Inde, p. 251, and he says that he thinks “there are reasons for placing this country [Çrībhôja], or island, on the East coast of Sumatra, and near Palembang, or, on the Palembang River.” Mr. Groeneveldt (T’oung Pao, VII. abst. p. 10) gives some extracts from Chinese authors, and then writes: “We have therefore to find now a place for the Molayu of I-tsing, the Malaiur of Marco Polo, the Malayo of Alboquerque, and the Tana-Malayu of De Barros, all which may be taken to mean the same place. I-tsing tells us that it took fifteen days to go from Bhôja to Molayu and fifteen days again to go from there to Kieh-ch’a. The latter place, suggesting a native name Kada, must have been situated in the north-west of Sumatra, somewhere near the present Atjeh, for going from there west, one arrived in thirty days at Magapatana, near Ceylon, whilst a northern course brought one in ten days to the Nicobar Islands. Molayu should thus lie half-way between Bhôja and Kieh-ch’a, but this indication must not be taken too literally where it is given for a sailing vessel, and there is also the statement of De Barros, which does not allow us to go too far away from Palembang, as he mentions Tana-Malayu next to that place. We have therefore to choose between the next three larger rivers: those of Jambi, Indragiri, and Kampar, and there is an indication in favour of the last one, not very strong, it is true, but still not to be neglected. I-tsing tells us: ‘Le roi me donna des secours grâce auxquels je parvins au pays de Mo-louo-yu; j’y séjournai derechef pendant deux mois. Je changeai de direction pour aller dans le pays de Kie-tcha.’ The change of direction during a voyage along the east coast of Sumatra from Palembang to Atjeh is nowhere very perceptible, because the course is throughout more or less north-west, still one may speak of a change of direction at the mouth of the River Kampar, about the entrance of the Strait of Malacca, whence the track begins to run more west, whilst it is more north before. The country of Kampar is of little importance now, but it is not improbable that there has been a Hindoo settlement, as the ruins of religious monuments decidedly Buddhist are still existing on the upper course of the river, the only ones indeed on this side of the island, it being a still unexplained fact that the Hindoos in Java have built on a very large scale, and those of Sumatra hardly anything at all.”—Mr. Takakusu (A Record of the Buddhist Religion, p. xli.) proposes to place Shih-li-fuh-shi at Palembang and Mo-louo-yu farther on the northern coast of Sumatra.—(Cf. G. Schlegel, Geog. Notes, XVI.; P. Pelliot, Bul. Ecole Franç. Ext. Orient, II. pp. 94–96.)—H. C.]

CHAPTER IX.

When you leave the Island of Pentam and sail about 100 miles, you reach the Island of Java the Less. For all its name ’tis none so small but that it has a compass of two thousand miles or more. Now I will tell you all about this Island.{1}

You see there are upon it eight kingdoms and eight crowned kings. The people are all Idolaters, and every kingdom has a language of its own. The Island hath great abundance of treasure, with costly spices, lign-aloes and spikenard and many others that never come into our parts.{2}

Now I am going to tell you all about these eight kingdoms, or at least the greater part of them. But let me premise one marvellous thing, and that is the fact that this Island lies so far to the south that the North Star, little or much, is never to be seen!

Now let us resume our subject, and first I will tell you of the kingdom of Ferlec.

This kingdom, you must know, is so much frequented by the Saracen merchants that they have converted the natives to the Law of Mahommet—I mean the townspeople only, for the hill-people live for all the world like beasts, and eat human flesh, as well as all other kinds of flesh, clean or unclean. And they worship this, that, and the other thing; for in fact the first thing that they see on rising in the morning, that they do worship for the rest of the day.{3}

Having told you of the kingdom of Ferlec, I will now tell of another which is called Basma.

When you quit the kingdom of Ferlec you enter upon that of Basma. This also is an independent kingdom, and the people have a language of their own; but they are just like beasts without laws or religion. They call themselves subjects of the Great Kaan, but they pay him no tribute; indeed they are so far away that his men could not go thither. Still all these Islanders declare themselves to be his subjects, and sometimes they send him curiosities as presents.{4} There are wild elephants in the country, and numerous unicorns, which are very nearly as big. They have hair like that of a buffalo, feet like those of an elephant, and a horn in the middle of the forehead, which is black and very thick. They do no mischief, however, with the horn, but with the tongue alone; for this is covered all over with long and strong prickles [and when savage with any one they crush him under their knees and then rasp him with their tongue]. The head resembles that of a wild boar, and they carry it ever bent towards the ground. They delight much to abide in mire and mud. ’Tis a passing ugly beast to look upon, and is not in the least like that which our stories tell of as being caught in the lap of a virgin; in fact, ’tis altogether different from what we fancied.{5} There are also monkeys here in great numbers and of sundry kinds; and goshawks as black as crows. These are very large birds and capital for fowling.{6}

I may tell you moreover that when people bring home pygmies which they allege to come from India, ’tis all a lie and a cheat. For those little men, as they call them, are manufactured on this Island, and I will tell you how. You see there is on the Island a kind of monkey which is very small, and has a face just like a man’s. They take these, and pluck out all the hair except the hair of the beard and on the breast, and then they dry them and stuff them and daub them with saffron and other things until they look like men. But you see it is all a cheat; for nowhere in India nor anywhere else in the world were there ever men seen so small as these pretended pygmies.

Now I will say no more of the kingdom of Basma, but tell you of the others in succession.

Note 1.—Java the Less is the Island of Sumatra. Here there is no exaggeration in the dimension assigned to its circuit, which is about 2300 miles. The old Arabs of the 9th century give it a circuit of 800 parasangs, or say 2800 miles, and Barbosa reports the estimate of the Mahomedan seamen as 2100 miles. Compare the more reasonable accuracy of these estimates of Sumatra, which the navigators knew in its entire compass, with the wild estimates of Java Proper, of which they knew but the northern coast.

Polo by no means stands alone in giving the name of Java to the island now called Sumatra. The terms Jawa, Jawi, were applied by the Arabs to the islands and productions of the Archipelago generally (e.g., Lubán Jawí, “Java frankincense,” whence by corruption Benzoin), but also specifically to Sumatra. Thus Sumatra is the Jáwah both of Abulfeda and of Ibn Batuta, the latter of whom spent some time on the island, both in going to China and on his return. The Java also of the Catalan Map appears to be Sumatra. Javaku again is the name applied in the Singalese chronicles to the Malays in general. Jáu and Dawa are the names still applied by the Battaks and the people of Nias respectively to the Malays, showing probably that these were looked on as Javanese by those tribes who did not partake of the civilisation diffused from Java. In Siamese also the Malay language is called Chawa; and even on the Malay peninsula, the traditional slang for a half-breed born from a Kling (or Coromandel) father and a Malay mother is Jáwí Păkăn, “a Jawi (i.e. Malay) of the market.” De Barros says that all the people of Sumatra called themselves by the common name of Jauijs. (Dec. III. liv. v. cap. 1.)

There is some reason to believe that the application of the name Java to Sumatra is of very old date. For the oldest inscription of ascertained date in the Archipelago which has yet been read, a Sanskrit one from Pagaroyang, the capital of the ancient Malay state of Menang-kabau in the heart of Sumatra, bearing a date equivalent to A.D. 656, entitles the monarch whom it commemorates, Adityadharma by name, the king of “the First Java” (or rather Yava). This Mr. Friedrich interprets to mean Sumatra. It is by no means impossible that the Iabadiu, or Yávadvípa of Ptolemy may be Sumatra rather than Java.

An accomplished Dutch Orientalist suggests that the Arabs originally applied the terms Great Java and Little Java to Java and Sumatra respectively, not because of their imagined relation in size, but as indicating the former to be Java Proper. Thus also, he says, there is a Great Acheh (Achin) which does not imply that the place so called is greater than the well-known state of Achin (of which it is in fact a part), but because it is Acheh Proper. A like feeling may have suggested the Great Bulgaria, Great Hungary, Great Turkey of the mediæval travellers. These were, or were supposed to be, the original seats of the Bulgarians, Hungarians, and Turks. The Great Horde of the Kirghiz Kazaks is, as regards numbers, not the greatest, but the smallest of the three. But the others look upon it as the most ancient. The Burmese are alleged to call the Rakhain or people of Arakan Mranma Gyí or Great Burmese, and to consider their dialect the most ancient form of the language. And, in like manner, we may perhaps account for the term of Little Thai, formerly applied to the Siamese in distinction from the Great Thai, their kinsmen of Laos.

In after-days, when the name of Sumatra for the Great Island had established itself, the traditional term “Little Java” sought other applications. Barbosa seems to apply it to Sumbawa; Pigafetta and Cavendish apply it to Bali, and in this way Raffles says it was still used in his own day. Geographers were sometimes puzzled about it. Magini says Java Minor is almost incognita.

(Turnour’s Epitome, p. 45; Van der Tuuk, Bladwijzer tot de drie Stukken van het Bataksche Leesboek, p. 43, etc.; Friedrich in Bat. Transactions, XXVI.; Levchine, Les Kirghíz Kazaks, 300, 301.)

Note 2.—As regards the treasure, Sumatra was long famous for its produce of gold. The export is estimated in Crawford’s History at 35,530 ounces; but no doubt it was much more when the native states were in a condition of greater wealth and civilisation, as they undoubtedly were some centuries ago. Valentyn says that in some years Achin had exported 80 bahars, equivalent to 32,000 or 36,000 lbs. avoirdupois (!). Of the other products named, lign-aloes or eagle-wood is a product of Sumatra, and is or was very abundant in Campar on the eastern coast. The Ain-i-Akbari says this article was usually brought to India from Achin and Tenasserim. Both this and spikenard are mentioned by Polo’s contemporary, Kazwini, among the products of Java (probably Sumatra), viz., Java lign-aloes (al-’Ud al-Jáwi), camphor spikenard (Sumbul), etc. Náráwastu is the name of a grass with fragrant roots much used as a perfume in the Archipelago, and I see this is rendered spikenard in a translation from the Malay Annals in the Journal of the Archipelago.

With regard to the kingdoms of the island which Marco proceeds to describe, it is well to premise that all the six which he specifies are to be looked for towards the north end of the island, viz., in regular succession up the northern part of the east coast, along the north coast, and down the northern part of the west coast. This will be made tolerably clear in the details, and Marco himself intimates at the end of the next chapter that the six kingdoms he describes were all at this side or end of the island: “Or vos avon contée de cesti roiames que sunt de ceste partie de scete ysle, et des autres roiames de l’autre partie ne voz conteron-noz rien.” Most commentators have made confusion by scattering them up and down, nearly all round the coast of Sumatra. The best remarks on the subject I have met with are by Mr. Logan in his Journal of the Ind. Arch. II. 610.

The “kingdoms” were certainly many more than eight throughout the island. At a later day De Barros enumerates 29 on the coast alone. Crawford reckons 15 different nations and languages on Sumatra and its dependent isles, of which 11 belong to the great island itself.

(Hist. of Ind. Arch. III. 482; Valentyn, V. (Sumatra), p. 5; Desc. Dict. p. 7, 417; Gildemeister, p. 193; Crawf. Malay Dict. 119; J. Ind. Arch. V. 313.)

Note 3.—The kingdom of Parlák is mentioned in the Shijarat Malayu or Malay Chronicle, and also in a Malay History of the Kings of Pasei, of which an abstract is given by Dulaurier, in connection with the other states of which we shall speak presently. It is also mentioned (Barlak), as a city of the Archipelago, by Rashiduddin. Of its extent we have no knowledge, but the position (probably of its northern extremity) is preserved in the native name, Tanjong (i.e. Cape) Parlák of the N.E. horn of Sumatra, called by European seamen “Diamond Point,” whilst the river and town of Perla, about 32 miles south of that point, indicate, I have little doubt, the site of the old capital.[1] Indeed in Malombra’s Ptolemy (Venice, 1574), I find the next city of Sumatra beyond Pacen marked as Pulaca.

The form Ferlec shows that Polo got it from the Arabs, who having no p often replace that letter by f. It is notable that the Malay alphabet, which is that of the Arabic with necessary modifications, represents the sound p not by the Persian pe (پ), but by the Arabic fe (ف), with three dots instead of one (ڤ).

A Malay chronicle of Achin dates the accession of the first Mahomedan king of that state, the nearest point of Sumatra to India and Arabia, in the year answering to A.D. 1205, and this is the earliest conversion among the Malays on record. It is doubtful, indeed, whether there were Kings of Achin in 1205, or for centuries after (unless indeed Lambri is to be regarded as Achin), but the introduction of Islam may be confidently assigned to that age.

The notice of the Hill-people, who lived like beasts and ate human flesh, presumably attaches to the Battas or Bataks, occupying high table-lands in the interior of Sumatra. They do not now extend north beyond lat. 3°. The interior of Northern Sumatra seems to remain a terra incognita, and even with the coast we are far less familiar than our ancestors were 250 years ago. The Battas are remarkable among cannibal nations as having attained or retained some degree of civilisation, and as being possessed of an alphabet and documents. Their anthropophagy is now professedly practised according to precise laws, and only in prescribed cases. Thus: (1) A commoner seducing a Raja’s wife must be eaten; (2) Enemies taken in battle outside their village must be eaten alive; those taken in storming a village may be spared; (3) Traitors and spies have the same doom, but may ransom themselves for 60 dollars a-head. There is nothing more horrible or extraordinary in all the stories of mediæval travellers than the facts of this institution. (See Junghuhn, Die Battaländer, II. 158.) And it is evident that human flesh is also at times kept in the houses for food. Junghuhn, who could not abide Englishmen but was a great admirer of the Battas, tells how after a perilous and hungry flight he arrived in a friendly village, and the food that was offered by his hosts was the flesh of two prisoners who had been slaughtered the day before (I. 249). Anderson was also told of one of the most powerful Batta chiefs who would eat only such food, and took care to be supplied with it (225).

The story of the Battas is that in old times their communities lived in peace and knew no such custom; but a Devil, Nanalain, came bringing strife, and introduced this man-eating, at a period which they spoke of (in 1840) as “three men’s lives ago,” or about 210 years previous to that date. Junghuhn, with some enlargement of the time, is disposed to accept their story of the practice being comparatively modern. This cannot be, for their hideous custom is alluded to by a long chain of early authorities. Ptolemy’s anthropophagi may perhaps be referred to the smaller islands. But the Arab Relations of the 9th century speak of man-eaters in Al-Ramni, undoubtedly Sumatra. Then comes our traveller, followed by Odoric, and in the early part of the 15th century by Conti, who names the Batech cannibals. Barbosa describes them without naming them; Galvano (p. 108) speaks of them by name; as does De Barros. (Dec. III. liv. viii. cap. 1.)

The practice of worshipping the first thing seen in the morning is related of a variety of nations. Pigafetta tells it of the people of Gilolo, and Varthema in his account of Java (which I fear is fiction) ascribes it to some people of that island. Richard Eden tells it of the Laplanders. (Notes on Russia, Hak. Soc. II. 224.)

Note 4.—Basma, as Valentyn indicated, seems to be the Pasei of the Malays, which the Arabs probably called Basam or the like, for the Portuguese wrote it Pacem. [Mr. J. T. Thomson writes (Proc. R. G. S. XX. p. 221) that of its actual position there can be no doubt, it being the Passier of modern charts.—H. C.] Pasei is mentioned in the Malay Chronicle as founded by Malik al-Ṣálih, the first Mussulman sovereign of Samudra, the next of Marco’s kingdoms. He assigned one of these states to each of his two sons, Malik al-Dháhir and Malik al-Mansúr; the former of whom was reigning at Samudra, and apparently over the whole coast, when Ibn Batuta was there (about 1346–47). There is also a Malay History of the Kings of Pasei to which reference has already been made.

Somewhat later Pasei was a great and famous city. Majapahit, Malacca, and Pasei being reckoned the three great cities of the Archipelago. The stimulus of conversion to Islam had not taken effect on those Sumatran states at the time of Polo’s voyage, but it did so soon afterwards, and, low as they have now fallen, their power at one time was no delusion. Achin, which rose to be the chief of them, in 1615 could send against Portuguese Malacca an expedition of more than 500 sail, 100 of which were galleys larger than any then constructed in Europe, and carried from 600 to 800 men each.

[Dr. Schlegel writes to me that according to the Malay Dictionary of Von de Wall and Van der Tuuk, ii. 414–415, Polo’s Basman is the Arab pronunciation of Pasĕman, the modern Ophir in West Sumatra; Gūnung Pasĕman is Mount Ophir.—H. C.]

The three Asiatic Rhinoceroses; (upper) Indicus, (middle) Sondaicus, (lower) Sumatranus.[2]

Note 5.—The elephant seems to abound in the forest-tracts throughout the whole length of Sumatra, and the species is now determined to be a distinct one (E. Sumatranus) from that of continental India and identical with that of Ceylon.[3] The Sumatran elephant in former days was caught and tamed extensively. Ibn Batuta speaks of 100 elephants in the train of Al Dháhir, the King of Sumatra Proper, and in the 17th century Beaulieu says the King of Achin had always 900. Giov. d’Empoli also mentions them at Pedir in the beginning of the 16th century; and see Pasei Chronicle quoted in J. As. sér. IV. tom. ix. pp. 258–259. This speaks of elephants as used in war by the people of Pasei, and of elephant-hunts as a royal diversion. The locus of that best of elephant stories, the elephant’s revenge on the tailor, was at Achin.

As Polo’s account of the rhinoceros is evidently from nature, it is notable that he should not only call it unicorn, but speak so precisely of its one horn, for the characteristic, if not the only, species on the island, is a two-horned one (Rh. Sumatranus),[4] and his mention of the buffalo-like hair applies only to this one. This species exists also on the Indo-Chinese continent and, it is believed, in Borneo. I have seen it in the Arakan forests as high as 19° 20′; one was taken not long since near Chittagong; and Mr. Blyth tells me a stray one has been seen in Assam or its borders.

[Ibn Khordâdhbeh says (De Goeje’s Transl. p. 47) that rhinoceros is to be found in Kâmeroun (Assam), which borders on China. It has a horn, a cubit long, and two palms thick; when the horn is split, inside is found on the black ground the white figure of a man, a quadruped, a fish, a peacock or some other bird.—H. C.]

[John Evelyn mentions among the curiosities kept in the Treasury at St. Denis: “A faire unicorne’s horn, sent by a K. of Persia, about 7 foote long.” Diary, 1643, 12th Nov.—H. C.]

What the Traveller says of the animals’ love of mire and mud is well illustrated by the manner in which the Semangs or Negritoes of the Malay Peninsula are said to destroy him: “This animal ... is found frequently in marshy places, with its whole body immersed in the mud, and part of the head only visible.... Upon the dry weather setting in ... the mud becomes hard and crusted, and the rhinoceros cannot effect his escape without considerable difficulty and exertion. The Semangs prepare themselves with large quantities of combustible materials, with which they quietly approach the animal, who is aroused from his reverie by an immense fire over him, which being kept well supplied by the Semangs with fresh fuel, soon completes his destruction, and renders him in a fit state to make a meal of.” (J. Ind. Arch. IV. 426.)[5] There is a great difference in aspect between the one-horned species (Rh. Sondaicus and Rh. Indicus) and the two-horned. The Malays express what that difference is admirably, in calling the last Bádak-Karbáu, “the Buffalo-Rhinoceros,” and the Sondaicus Bádak-Gájah, “the Elephant-Rhinoceros.”

The belief in the formidable nature of the tongue of the rhinoceros is very old and wide-spread, though I can find no foundation for it but the rough appearance of the organ. [“His tongue also is somewhat of a rarity, for, if he can get any of his antagonists down, he will lick them so clean, that he leaves neither skin nor flesh to cover his bones.” (A. Hamilton, ed. 1727, II. 24. M.S. Note of Yule.) Compare what is said of the tongue of the Yak, I. p. 277.—H. C.] The Chinese have the belief, and the Jesuit Lecomte attests it from professed observation of the animal in confinement. (Chin. Repos. VII. 137; Lecomte, II. 406.) [In a Chinese work quoted by Mr. Groeneveldt (T’oung Pao, VII. No. 2, abst. p. 19) we read that “the rhinoceros has thorns on its tongue and always eats the thorns of plants and trees, but never grasses or leaves.”—H. C.]

The legend to which Marco alludes, about the Unicorn allowing itself to be ensnared by a maiden (and of which Marsden has made an odd perversion in his translation, whilst indicating the true meaning in his note), is also an old and general one. It will be found, for example, in Brunetto Latini, in the Image du Monde, in the Mirabilia of Jordanus,[6] and in the verses of Tzetzes. The latter represents Monoceros as attracted not by the maiden’s charms but by her perfumery. So he is inveigled and blindfolded by a stout young knave, disguised as a maiden and drenched with scent:—

“’Tis then the huntsmen hasten up, abandoning their ambush;

Clean from his head they chop his horn, prized antidote to poison;

And let the docked and luckless beast escape into the jungles.”

—V. 399, seqq.

In the cut which we give of this from a mediæval source the horn of the unicorn is evidently the tusk of a narwhal. This confusion arose very early, as may be seen from its occurrence in Aelian, who says that the horn of the unicorn or Kartazōnon (the Arab Karkaddan or Rhinoceros) was not straight but twisted (ἐλιγμούς ἔχον τινάς, Hist. An. xvi. 20). The mistake may also be traced in the illustrations to Cosmas Indicopleustes from his own drawings, and it long endured, as may be seen in Jerome Cardan’s description of a unicorn’s horn which he saw suspended in the church of St. Denis; as well as in a circumstance related by P. della Valle (II. 491; and Cardan, de Varietate, c. xcvii.). Indeed the supporter of the Royal arms retains the narwhal horn. To this popular error is no doubt due the reading in Pauthier’s text, which makes the horn white instead of black.

Monoceros and the Maiden.[7]

We may quote the following quaint version of the fable from the Bestiary of Philip de Thaun, published by Mr. Wright (Popular Treatises on Science, etc. p. 81):

“Monosceros est Beste, un corne ad en la teste,

Purceo ad si a nun, de buc ad façun;

Par Pucele est prise; or vez en quel guise.

Quant hom le volt cacer et prendre et enginner,

Si vent hom al forest ù sis riparis est;

Là met une Pucele hors de sein sa mamele,

Et par odurement Monosceros la sent;

Dunc vent à la Pucele, et si baiset la mamele,

En sein devant se dort, issi vent à sa mort

Li hom suivent atant ki l’ocit en dormant

U trestout vif le prent, si fais puis sun talent.

Grant chose signifie.”....

And so goes on to moralise the fable.

Note 6.—In the J. Indian Archip. V. 285, there is mention of the Falco Malaiensis, black, with a double white-and-brown spotted tail, said to belong to the ospreys, “but does not disdain to take birds and other game.”