166 IN THE SWAMPS 



moons along, switching flies from its flanks and 

 chewing its cud with equal unemotion. High on 

 the cart seat, perhaps on the buffalo's back, rides 

 the all but unclothed Kling driver; or perhaps a 

 group of them lounge under wayside shade trees, 

 smoking or dozing or gambling. A Tamil woman 

 carrying erect her well-formed partially draped 

 figure passes silently, gracefully, laden with the 

 ornaments of her class. In the side of her nose is 

 fixed a silver stud as large as a nickel five-cent 

 piece, from which swings a two-inch loop bearing 

 several small ornaments, while from the top of 

 her ear hangs another ring, twice two inches in 

 diameter, weighted with dangling pendants. On 

 one ankle jangle a collection of large, hollow silver 

 bangles, and on one toe is a silver ring. Strad- 

 dling her hip at the side, and held there by the 

 mother's arm, sits a babe wearing only a necklace 

 of tiny stone beads. Amid much shouting and 

 good-humored confusion among the wayfarers, 

 here comes a Malay syce, now whipping his gharry 

 pony, now lashing out at some unoffending passing 

 Chinese coolie who, under load big enough for two, 

 has perhaps staggered in the way. Ever and anon 

 groups of half-breed Chinese-Malay women hurry 

 by in all the colors of the rainbow, chattering, 

 laughing, or stand before an open shop discussing 

 in high key some bit of silk or jewelry with the Ar- 



