166 W. Doherty — The Butterflies of Sumha and Samlawa, Sfc. [N'o. 2, 



refused it, he plundered the village, and drove the Dutch agent out of 

 Sumba. When the unhappy Achinese war is over, it is to be hoped that 

 the Dutch will pay some attention to this fine island, hitherto neglected. 

 Owing to the absence of fire-arms, it could be subjugated by an insigni- 

 ficant force ; the horse-trade properly developed would prove a mine of 

 wealth ; and under settled government the island would be as prosperous 

 as Roti or the Minahasa. However it may have been in the last 

 century, no people in this can rule semibarbarous races better than the 

 Dutch — when they think it worth their while. 



Some idea of a Sumbanese king may be gathered from an account 

 of my visit to Tunggu, king of Lewa, which I made with my kind 

 friend Mr. K. H. de Uoo van Alderwereld, The king was then at 

 Kawaugu near the coast. 



We rode from Waingapu across the Matawai, past the Savu settle- 

 ment of Kabaniru, and reached the Kambera river, where women were 

 dyeing cloth in the black mud, and a frizzly-haired Timorese was fishing 

 in a canoe. Fording the Kambera and the Palamenjeli with much 

 difficulty, we reached Kawangu, a village of thirty large houses. A 

 narrow path wound zigzag past three great concentric hedges of cactus 

 guarding the place, and brought us to the king's house. He was an 

 ugly old man, well over six feet high, wearing nothing but a dirty 

 waist-cloth, his skinny limbs uncovered. His long hair was white and 

 knotted over the nape of his neck, his eyebrows were black and stood 

 out from his head, the hairs more than an inch long, shading a pair of 

 singularly bright, unsteady eyes, and giving him an extraordinary 

 appearance. He shook hands with us feebly with his paralyzed left 

 hand, holding his spear in his right all ready for action, for he is 

 forever suspecting some treachery. He had two mares led up, and 

 drove his spear into the throat of each with a wild shout ; then he 

 killed a pig for us, saying, politely, " Pork is for kings' sons, but mares' 

 meat is good enough for soldiers." For the mares' meat was for his body- 

 guard, a number of handsome and splendidly-formed young men, with 

 whom he was at that time hoping to conquer the whole island. Later 

 on, we saw him standing among them ladling the boiling meat out of a 

 huge pot, and saying, according to our interpreter, " Eat, my children ; 

 he who fights shall eat meat ; let slaves stick to millet." 



He took us to see his elder brother, who was slowly dying of cancer, 

 and had therefore given up the throne to him many years before. 

 When my trip into the interior was suggested, he coolly made a counter- 

 proposal that we should both go and help him in his campaign against 

 Anakala. For he has no fire-arms, and no doubt thought a rifle or 

 two would have great effect on those sturdy mountaineers. On our 



