In those days, and even in comparatively late times, the relations in the Eastern Archipelago greatly resembled those prevailing in the Aegean Sea at the dawn of Greek history, while the restless seafaring populations were still in a state of flux, passing from island to island in quest of booty or barter before permanently settling down in favourable sites[509]. With the Greek historian's philosophic disquisition on these Pelasgian and proto-Hellenic relations may be compared A. R. Wallace's account of the Batjan coastlands when visited by him in the late fifties. "Opposite us, and all along this coast of Batchian, stretches a row of fine islands completely uninhabited. Whenever I asked the reason why no one goes to live in them, the answer always was 'For fear of the Magindano pirates[510].' Every year these scourges of the Archipelago wander in one direction or another, making their rendezvous on some uninhabited island, and carrying devastation to all the small settlements around; robbing, destroying, killing, or taking captive all they meet with. Their long, well-manned praus escape from the pursuit of any sailing vessel by pulling away right in the wind's eye, and the warning smoke of a steamer generally enables them to hide in some shallow bay, or narrow river, or forest-covered inlet, till the danger is passed[511]." Thus, like geographical surroundings, with corresponding social conditions, produce like results in all times amongst all peoples. This fundamental truth receives further illustration from the ideas prevalent amongst the Malayans regarding witchcraft, the magic arts, charms and spells, and especially the belief in the power of certain malevolent human beings to transform themselves into wild beasts and prey upon their fellow-creatures. Such superstitions girdle the globe, taking their local colouring from the fauna of the different regions, so that the were-wolf of medieval Europe finds its counterpart in the human jaguar of South America, the human lion or leopard of Africa[512], and the human tiger of the Malay Peninsula. Hugh Clifford, who relates an occurrence known to himself in connection with a "were-tiger" story of the Perak district, aptly remarks that "the white man and the brown, the yellow and the black, independently, and without receiving the idea from one another, have all found the same explanation for the like phenomena, all apparently recognising the truth of the Malay proverb, that we are like unto the _taman_ fish that preys upon its own kind[513]." The story in question turns upon a young bride, whose husband comes home late three nights following, and the third time, being watched, is discovered by her in the form of a full-grown tiger stretched on the ladder, which, as in all Malay houses, leads from the ground to the threshold of the door. "Patimah gazed at the tiger from a distance of only a foot or two, for she was too paralysed with fear to move or cry out, and as she