A TALE BY THE WAYSIDE. 237 



The story which I set out to tell is properly 

 speaking an animal story, pure and simple, and 

 does not belong to the mouse-deer cycle. My pre- 

 face is intended to explain, firstly, how much a part 

 of a Malay's daily conversation and life these folk- 

 tales are ; and secondly, why in this story the little 

 mouse -deer bears, for no apparent reason, his fan- 

 tastic title. 



This is the story. I heard it one day when we 

 were resting in the forest near Teluk Kepaiang after 

 a deer- drive. We had entered the forest early in 

 the morning, and having found fresh deer-tracks, 

 had disposed ourselves along some wood - cutters' 

 paths at points where the deer was likely to 

 break out. When we put the dogs in, a deer 

 had dashed out, affording me a shot which I 

 had missed. The deer was now some miles away, 

 and while a couple of men were following the 

 tracks to recall the dogs, we were lying in the 

 shade of the great dark forest -trees waiting for 

 them. 



There were six of us : my brother Eric ; Che Ngah 

 Durani, the headman ; Ali and Sahak, two peasants ; 

 my tracker, Malias ; and myself. The Malays were 

 all smoking their native cigarettes or meditatively 

 chewing betel-leaf. 



At intervals one of them would call to the absent 

 dogs at the top of his voice 



"Doh! Doh! Doh!" 



"Oh! SiNibong!" 



" Oh ! Si Kumbang ! Doh ! " 



While we were talking, Sahak took up a couple 



