46 IN MALAY FORESTS. 



be stained with an indigo blue. This was the dye 

 of the rhinoceros' horn, which he had seized with 

 both hands in his efforts to free himself from the 

 brute as it held him on the ground. His hands and 

 arms had been carefully washed, and the stained 

 water was the only medicine that he was given. 

 Part he drank, and with part his wounds were 

 washed. It was indeed a marvellous recovery. And 

 the poor old man talked excitedly, as he limped along, 

 of the result he expected from getting more of this 

 remedy : perhaps with a further supply a skilled 

 pawang might make the flesh grow on his withered 

 limbs. Didn't we think so ? A very little had 

 served to heal his wounds, surely an unlimited 

 supply would bring a perfect cure. For more than 

 twenty perhaps thirty years the old man had been 

 waiting for this event, and at last the day had come. 

 Bitter was his disappointment, and pitiable to see, 

 when he reached the carcass, for no amount of rubbing 

 and washing would yield a sign of the desired blue 

 from that black stumpy horn. The Malays stood 

 back and whispered in little groups. All felt sorry 

 for him, but it was difficult to know what to do. 

 Finally I touched him on the shoulder. 



" The rhinoceros is very old, Kanda Daud," I said, 

 "and now in his old age the blue stain he carried 

 has disappeared." 



He stood up and looked at me in silence for a 

 moment. " And I am very old too," he said ; and 

 then he added as he turned away, " and now I shall 

 never recover." 



