i8 SPORT AND TRAVEL 



not metaphorically, mirror-like in its calm, rippled 

 only by the trails of innumerable flying-fish ; dawns 

 when the sun shot from the horizon like a molten 

 cannon-ball in a flood of unimagined color; and 

 nights when the stars blazed with a brilliancy never 

 beheld by any northern land or sea. A few hours in 

 the harbor of Penang, and we turned down into the 

 Malacca Straits, emerging two days later at Singa- 

 pore, for me, at least, a temporary destination. 



If I were to be taken by some kind spirit and sud- 

 denly dropped blindfolded in the midst of Singapore 

 to-day, seven years after my last stay there, I should 

 recognize my whereabouts. No city in the world 

 smells just like it. There is the spicy smell of Co- 

 lombo, and the B. C. S. of Calcutta, upon which 

 Kipling has distinct, not to say aggressive, opinions ; 

 and Bombay, at certain seasons, comes very close 

 to resembling Calcutta, with just a shade of original- 

 ity of its own. But no one could mistake the smell 

 of Singapore. In my mind it is inseparably asso- 

 ciated with a long, very dusty road, bordered by 

 Chinese chow-shops and incense-burning temples, 

 and thickly peopled with representatives of every 

 eastern race, from the all but naked Tamil to the 

 indolent, self-satisfied Malay, and from the mighty 

 fierce-bearded Sikh to the little squat, smelly Javan- 

 ese. Perhaps it is the evil messes concocted in the 



