188 IN THE EYE OF DAY 



nondescript, two-wheeled, uncomfortable kind of 

 vehicle, with scarcely room enough for two, and a 

 seat placed so low as to cramp one's legs most un- 

 comfortably. The ponies are small but tough, and 

 for the greater number are brought from Java, 

 whence also comes the professional syce, as the 

 driver is called ; the best of these syces come from 

 Boyan, an island off Java, where, curiously 

 enough, there are no horses. In action the syce 

 sits on the gharry floor with legs dangling over the 

 shaft, from which point of vantage he maintains 

 a constant drubbing of the pony. For the larger 

 share of the day's hours the pony merits vigorous 

 attention; for the rest he accepts the driver's devo- 

 tion to strenuous duty with indifference. Like the 

 cayuse that has become accustomed to the drum- 

 ming heels of its Mexican rider, the Malay pony 

 views the unflagging lash as a settled habit of his 

 syce, to be humored or ignored according to the 

 quality of the road. Yet it is surprising what 

 loads these little beasts will drag and the miles 

 they will cover in a day, because of their own 

 sturdy legs and, to no inconsiderable extent, on 

 account of the fine, hard, well kept, terra cotta col- 

 ored road which winds through the jungle, up hill 

 and down, connecting the chief settlements of the 

 protected States of Malay. The roadways are not 

 numerous, but their quality is unexcelled. 



