It was a pretty scene, this crowd of bright-coloured humanity. The skin of the Javanese is little darker than that of the Italian, and his clothes are gloriously picturesque. As usual, the hats, jackets, scarfs, and sarongs displayed every shade of colour and variety of pattern. The wayang did not begin until the evening. The chief performer, called the _dalang_, or manager, squatted on the ground before two poles of bamboo placed horizontally at a height of about three feet, into which he stuck the puppets, taking them from a box placed by his side. He chanted a long legendary tale taken from the ancient Javan literature, and dealing with the times before the European occupation of the island. At intervals he broke into a dialogue, when he worked the puppets' arms and legs with wires, so that they seemed to be acting their several parts. Behind the dalang was a _gamelan_, or series of gongs mounted on a wooden frame much like an ordinary couch. These gongs were struck with wooden hammers by other members of the company, and thus served as an orchestra. It was interesting to observe the deep attention with which the audience followed the movements of the puppets, and listened to the recitations and dialogue. H---- said they would sit there listening for hours, far into the night, without getting tired. Owing to the restrictive trade policy of the Government, the planters, as a class, are much more identified with the native princes than with the Dutch officials. In a subsequent chapter I shall have occasion to speak of the development of horse-racing in Java, and of the support which is given to the movement by the native princes. At Tji Wangi I was shown a recent importation from Sydney--Lonely, who was destined to lower the colours of the Regent of Tjandjoer recently carried to victory by Thistle, also an Australian horse. The stables (like everything else in Java) were built of bamboo. They were kept in first-rate order. The stalls were occupied chiefly by country-bred ponies, the progeny of the native races of the neighbouring islands of Sandalwood and Timor. H---- said modestly that his stud was a very small one, but that if I would visit a Dutch neighbour I should see a stud of fifteen racers, beside brood mares. Race meetings and the various social gatherings connected with them are among the most important resources of the planter's life. H----'s nearest European neighbours were seven miles away, and he said that he could seldom entertain visitors at Tji Wangi, because of the scarcity of game in the neighbourhood. Indeed, the loneliness of the life is its great objection. The case of the Dutch planters is rather different. They are often married, and with their managers, form quite a little society of their own. But an Englishman rarely has the courage to bring a wife so far from home. In most cases it is the near prospect of returning with a fortune which alone makes so isolated an existence bearable.