Talip and his satellites appeared with huge jugs of lukewarm coffee, made sweet as syrup to suit the taste of my guests. It was, however, devoid of milk, as the Malays of Sarawak are unaccustomed to the use of that liquid.[4] It took some time to help us all, but when each guest’s cup was full, Talip stood in the middle of the room and shouted out: “Makan! la.... Minum! la.... Jangan malu!” (Eat. Drink. Don’t be ashamed). After coffee, the real business of the day began. Talip told me to say something to my guests, and that he would translate my words into Malay. “Datus, Daiangs, my friends,” I said, “I have sent for you because I feel lonely without you. I have come to live here and to make friends with you all. I have waited for this day with great impatience, because I know we shall love one another, and I feel sure if women are friends to one another they can never feel lonely in any country.” Talip translated my speech at great length, and when he had finished, Datu Isa, the wife of Datu Bandar the chief minister, bent forward, her eyes cast down, her hands palm downwards on her knees, and replied, “Rajah Ranee, you are our father, our mother, and our grandmother. We intend to take care of you and to cherish you, but don’t forget that you are very young, and that you know nothing, so we look upon you as our child. When the Rajah is away, as I am the oldest woman here, I will look after you. There is one thing you must not do: I have heard of Englishwomen taking the hands of gentlemen by the roadside. Now, Rajah Ranee, you must not do that, and when you are sad you must come to me, and I will help to lighten your heart.” Talip translated this to me, and I smiled in response. But all the women kept that gravity which never leaves Malays when they are shy or nervous, or in the presence of strangers. I thought I would try a little conversation on my own account. I looked out some words in Marsden’s Dictionary, and meant to inquire of Datu Isa how many sons she had. This remark thawed the ice, for a ripple of laughter went over the room. Instead of saying “sons” I had used the words “baby boys”--the old lady being seventy, no explanation is required! After that, we became very friendly. I consulted Marsden for the rest of the afternoon, and got on beautifully with my guests. It is strange, even now, how well I remember that party: it might all have happened yesterday. From that eventful day my home-sickness completely vanished, for I felt I had found my friends. FOOTNOTES: [3] There is no greater pleasure one can give Malays than that of borrowing their things. Women, however, ungrudgingly lend their golden ornaments to each other, and the same may be said of their crockery, their furniture, their clothes, etc. [4] Some Malay women confided in me that they would not drink it, as by so doing they might get to resemble animals. CHAPTER IV