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Owl never found out the trick, nor suspected the innocent little Honey Bird, whom indeed he scarcely ever saw, because it was a sunset-sleeping bird, while he was a wistful, lonely, sad night-prowler. Up and down, up and down the world he goes, still looking for the betel-nut of the Princess Putri Balan, which he will never find.
I cannot chew this little betel-nut forever; there must be an end to it before long. Mr. Owl will certainly come again to-morrow night, and then, according to my promise, I must become his wife. I cannot marry old Goggle-Eyes. Oh dear! What shall I do?" As she chewed her betel-nut the Princess Putri Balan hit upon a plan. She would manage to cheat old Mr. Owl after all.
Owl, her tiresome lover. Putri Balan, so they tell you in Malay, was always very, very beautiful, as we see her now. Like all the Malay women, Putri Balan loved to chew the spicy betel-nut which turns one's lips a bright scarlet. It is better, so they say, than any kind of candy, and it is considered much nicer and more respectable than chewing-gum.
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