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Updated: June 14, 2025
The green of the masses of jungle on the river banks takes to itself a paler hue than usual, and the yellow of the sandbanks changes its shade from the colour of a cowslip to that of a pale and early primrose. It was on such a white morning as this that Imâm Bakar crossed slowly to meet his fate.
Imâm Bakar and his friends were punted up the long reaches of the Pahang river, past the middle country, where the banks are lined with villages nestling in the palm and fruit trees; past Gûnong Sĕnuyum the Smiling Mountain that great limestone rock, which raises its crest high above the forest that clothes the plain in which it stands in solitary beauty; past Lûbok Plang, where in a nameless grave lies the Princess of ancient story, the legend of whose loveliness alone survives; past Glanggi's Fort, those gigantic caves which seem to lend some probability to the tradition that, before they changed to stone, they were once the palace of a King; and on and on, until, at last, the yellow sandbanks of Pâsir Tambang came in sight.
At the last interview of all, and before the fatal question had been asked and answered, the King spoke with the three Chieftains concerning the manner of their life in the remote interior, and, turning to Imâm Bakar, he asked how they of the upper country lived. 'Thy servants live on earth, replied the Imâm, meaning thereby that they were tillers of the soil.
'Who, he would ask, 'is your Master, and who is your Chief? And the three, led by Imâm Bakar, would make answer with equal regularity: 'Thou, O Highness, art Master of thy servants, and His Highness To’ Râja is thy servants' Chief. Now, from the point of view of the Bĕndăhâra, this answer was most foully treasonable.
"Moniet" there might be, but I could discern nothing until, after a few moments of intense excitement as to whether the "moniet" was but a common proboscis or wa-wa, Bakar came splashing back through the dirty water, and, seizing my shoulder, breathlessly exclaimed, "Moniet besar, Tuan! orang-utan!" Hurrah then!
Imâm Bakar, after consulting his two friends, once more returned the answer that while he acknowledged the Bĕndăhâra as his King and his Master, his immediate Chief was no other than 'His Highness To’ Râja. That answer sealed his doom. On the following day To’ Gâjah sent for Imâm Bakar, and made all things ready against his coming.
Come, let us go to Pâsir Tambang and learn what To’ Gâjah hath in store for me! The sun was half-mast high in the heavens as Imâm Bakar crossed the river to Pâsir Tambang in his tiny dug-out. Until the sun's rays fall more or less perpendicularly, the slanting light paints broad reaches of water a brilliant dazzling white, unrelieved by shadow or reflection.
Ye sons of evil women! he yelled to his men, and before poor Imâm Bakar could free himself from the powerful grasp which held him, the spears were unearthed, and half a dozen of their blades met in his shuddering flesh. It was soon over, and Imâm Bakar lay dead upon the sandbank, his body still quivering, while the peaceful morning song of the birds came uninterrupted from the forest around.
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