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Updated: May 28, 2025
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.
Outside the copper gates they crushed the grapes in vats to make the syrabub. It had been a goodly vintage. In the little gardens at the desert's edge men beat the tambang and the tittibuk, and blew melodiously the zootibar.
But while these things were being done at Pĕkan and at Pâsir Tambang, Wan Lingga, who, as I have related, had remained behind in the upper country when To’ Râja was carried to Pĕkan, was sparing no pains to seduce the faithful natives of the interior from their loyalty to their hereditary Chief.
Then I entered Perdondaris and found all the people dancing, clad in brilliant silks, and playing on the tambang as they danced.
Then it was fastened to a boat pole, fixed upright in the sand of Pâsir Tambang, at the mouth of the Tĕmbĕling River, where it dangled with all the horror of set teeth, and staring eyeballs the fixity of the face of one who has died a violent death until, in the fulness of time, the waters rose and swept pole and head away with them.
They ran down out of their fair white houses, and streamed through the copper gate; the throbbing of the tambang and the tittibuk suddenly ceased with the note of the Zootibar, and the clinking kalipac stopped a moment after. The three strange travellers went back the way they came the instant their message was given.
Then I entered Perdóndaris and found all the people dancing, clad in brilliant silks, and playing on the tambang as they danced.
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.
Full well may it be so, for Pâsir Tambang has been the scene of many a cruel tragedy, and could its sands but speak, what tales would they have to tell us of woe and murder, of valour and treachery, of shrieking souls torn before their time from their sheaths of flesh and blood, and of all the savage deeds of this race of venomous worms That sting each other here in the dust.
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