282 TIMOR NATIVES. 
and not at all shy with their cupidity. Some- 
times I would suddenly hud myself face to face 
‘with one of these dusky gentlemen, who had been 
crouching behind a bush polishing his knife. 
He would come forward with a surprised air, 
and I can imagine his thought would be some- 
thing like— 4 What a strange thing ! I must go 
and examine it.” He approaches me, strokes 
my cheek with his filthy hand, tugs my gar- 
ments as he inspects their form, walks back a 
little to view my parasol, and all with as much 
regard for my feelings as if I were a statue in 
a park. <c Oh, this is the white woman who 
lives in the hut on the slope ; she does not 
look much. There must be things as strange 
as herself there. I hear that the white man is 
marching over the mountains with men and 
horses ; I shall go down and have a look at 
her dwelling.” 
To continue about my journey to Billy. The 
man I met was one of the uncanniest-looking 
mortals you could imagine. If one such were 
to peep round the door as you sit reading this 
letter, you would fairly die of fright. He had 
a fatuous leer, and an expression of hideous 
cunning which made my heart utterly fail. My 
knees gave way under me, and 1 was ready to 
