A huge, golden moon hung over the feathery fronds of coconut palms beside a calm sea that gleamed like a tray of polished brass. A fragrant breeze softly sang a song of love to the casuarinas trees. From the veranda of the Mersing Rest House, two grey headed Englishmen paused their conversation to absorb the stunningly beautiful scene that extended beyond the bay bordering the South China Sea. They had lived and worked for most of their lives as civil servants when the British had administered Malaya and decided to spend the rest of their days in a country they regarded with affection.
'I don't think there's anything as romantic and that stirs the heart with sentimental thoughts as a moonlit tropical night', said Hartley to Truscott. 'I'll bet you've seen a thousand such nights in the years you've been in this country', said hartley, smiling. 'You've lived out here longer than I have.' 'Maybe I've seen more than thousand such nights', said Truscott, 'but each one is so enchantingly different from the other. I cannot explain why. I suppose it's what some songwriters and poets call, 'moonlight magic'. Did you know that the national anthem of Malaysia is sung to the melody of probably the most beautiful and popular love song ever composed in Malay and the song was about moonlight? It was called Terang Bulan which as you know, means 'bright moonlight' in Malay. Patriotic lyrics were written while the melody was retained. It was adopted as Malaysia's national anthem, Negara Ku, or 'our country'.
Hartley said, There must a great number of songs and poems dedicated to the magic of moonlight to lovers, to broken hearts and one's thoughts immediately go to beautiful woman! Ah... yes, moonlight seems incomplete without the presence of a beautiful woman... ans passionate love! I remember the film Jungle Princess that was shown here in the 1930s. The story was about an American pilot played by Ray Milland who crashed somewhere in the sea off Malaya. He was rescued by the beautiful daughter of the chief of an island, the lovely Dorothy Lamour. The songs from the film were Moonlight And Shadows and Love Light In The Starlight sung by her in Malay and English! I think she was the first Hollywood star to sing in Malay. Everybody looked like a Malay. She had a creamy coloured skin and beautiful, long, black hair that fell to her waist! Love in the moonlight! Absolutely fantastic!'
Truscott grinned and said, 'You're not intending to ruin this marvellous night with sordid stories of your romantic past, are you?' 'No, I shall spare you the discomfort', said Hartley. 'But, speaking about moonlight, it seems that the famous 'Beach of Passionate Love' or Pantai Chinta Berahi in Kelantan has the reputation of being the most scenic of all places when a romantic moon casts its magic. Although I have visited Kelantan on several occasion, I have not seen the beach on a moonlit night. 'Well, you've missed something truly enchanting. It seems this moonlit beach at Kota Bharu has a special attraction for lovers. Superstitious people believed that it also attracts beautiful, lonely women who are in search of romance!' said Truscott. 'I say! That's something I didn't know! Tell me more!' said Hartley. 'You wouldn't sound so enthusiastic if I told you that some of these 'lovely ladies' were in fact half human creatures known as pontianak, the most terrible of all demons in Malaysia.'
'But, how could they be 'terrifying demons' and 'lovely ladies' at the same time?' asked Hartley. 'It's believed a pontianak after having gone through a ritual in which a nail is driven into the back of its head, transforms from a large, black ugly bird with a woman's face into a beautiful young lady or a sundal bolong that in polite terms means 'lady of the night'. They are known to marry and have children. It seems there are many who have done so and one is said to have married a member of a certain royal family.' 'I don't believe it!' said Hartley. 'But, I shall tell you something you would have to believe because I was in Kelantan at the time when it happened. It concerned a transformed pontianak and someone whom I had met briefly at the club in Kota Bharu. He was a rubber planter named Charles Steed. He was missing for some time and was rescued by a bomoh and police from a mountain cave where he was being held prisoner and tortured by a jealous lover who had died while giving birth to his child. She gave her soul to the Devil and become a pontianak so that she could take her revenge on him. He was almost a skeleton when they found him. Luckily, he survived. The pontianak was killed by the bomoh'.
'Hair raising!' exclaimed Hartley. 'If it was someone else telling the story, I would never have believed him!' They fell silent for some time. 'Do you believe there are such things as ghosts and demons?' asked Hartley. 'Yes, Do you?' replied Truscott. 'I don't know', said Hartley. 'Are you waiting to meet a ghost before you made up your mind?' 'No! I hope never to see one!' said Hartley. 'Is it because you secretly believed ghosts and demons are real! isn't that so?' 'Maybe. I don't know'. 'Would you like to meet a beautiful pontianak?' 'Beautiful? How do you know a pontianak is beautiful? Have you seen one?' asked Hartley. 'Would it surprise you to know that I have?' said Truscott. 'Oh, come on! You're not trying to amuse yourself at my expense, are you?' asked Hartley with grin. Truscott said, 'Seriously, it really happened. I suppose it was the magic of the moon and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen'.
You're not pulling my leg, are you?' said Hartley frowning and still unsure whether he was about to become the victim of huge joke. 'I am being perfectly serious. Take my word for it', replied Truscott. 'It's quite an amazing story. It happened about forty years ago.' 'Good lord!' muttered Hartley as he reached for his glass of whisky, feeling the need to steady himself before Truscott began his narrative. Truscott ran his fingers slowly through his long, grey hair, a far away look in his eyes.
'I was twenty three at the time and I had recently arrived in Malaya from England to join the civil service', he began. 'I was fortunate to be posted to Ringlet the main town in Cameron Highlands, the popular hill station where a waterworks project was making slow progress, following the lazy pace of life in a country where nothing was ever rushed. I found I had a lot of time to spare and took the opportunity to explore my surrounding, going for long walks alone, absorbing the beauty of the lush jungle, the sounds of the beautiful birds and insects, the distant roar of a tiger, the hooting calls of gibbons and capturing the beauty of the variety of gorgeous flowers with my camera. I would sometimes spend the weekends camping by myself in this wonderful and completely different environment that I had never imagined existed. I would sketch the plants and flowers in the vast, undulating jungle that rose in the distance to become part of the Central Mountain Range. It was absolutely beautiful.'
'I would assume you had fallen in love with the country?' remarked Hartley, smiling. 'Oh, completely!' said Truscott. 'I had made up my mind that it was where I would spend the rest of my days. You cannot imagine how much I appreciated the change from living in rather impoverished conditions in England and suddenly introduced to a life of luxury in a tropical paradise such as Malaya, a beautiful bungalow to live in, servants, good food, club life and enough money to spend and even to save each month! On top of it all, I had discovered happiness out there in the jungle! I wasn't going to give it up! It was a secret I jealousy guarded.' Truscott stared at the ceiling, recollecting his thoughts.
'I remember it was a Saturday afternoon. While my colleagues met for lunch and a round of golf as usual, I sneaked off into the jungle. I think by now I would have gained a reputation of being a man of strange tastes since I avoided drinking parties and whatever else my colleagues did in their spare time. I preferred to concentrate on my study of the Malay language that I was able to understand better than I spoke it in days, or to read books on Malayan history. 'I took my usual route to the jungle and after an hour's walk I rested in a small shelter I had constructed out of bamboo and leaves at a delightful nook on the side of a hill and quite close to a small waterfall that filled a shallow pool below with cool, sparkling water. Beside it grew a variety of plants. Some had giants leaves that were almost the height of a man. The trunks of tree ferns which I remembered a bomoh named Mat Idris, the father of one of my office staff, telling me were the favorite resting places of a dreaded female demon called the pontianak. He also had informed me that the jungle was full of Jinns and Orang Bunian as demons and fairies were called in Malay. Although he had only casually told me about this, I sensed he was trying to put me on guard since he was aware of my love for the jungle.
'I had been to this idyllic spot by the waterfall a couple of times before, but had not dared to swim in the pool or spend the night there before because I had once heard the growl of a tiger towards evening, it could have been a leopard or panther, but I made no attempt to find out. I was more interested in packing up and leaving. 'A few days later we were all startled by the news of the tragic death of a young Malay woman who was six months pregnant. she was savagely killed not far from her home one evening. 'From the claw marks on her body, police said that a tiger, panther or leopard could have caused her death. Superstitious kampung folk pointed out that the woman's stomach had been ripped open by a creature with long, sharp claws, such as those of a pontianak, and that no part of her body had been eaten which supported their opinion that her death was not caused by a wild animal. Neither were there any animal tracks.
'I happened to meet Mat Idris, the bomoh at the scene of the crime and he explained that when pontianak attacked a victim it left no tell tale tracks on the ground because it took the form of a large bird with long, sharp claws. he was convinced the woman was killed by a pontianak and volunteered his services to track it down. However, the English police officer in charge of the investigation had other theories. 'Despite the upsetting news of the woman;s murder and that a demon was responsible, the temptation to visit my secret jungle rendezvous had proved too much to resist. I returned to it the following Saturday.
'Getting there in the late afternoon, I went for a swim in the shallow pool close to where the cascading water fell from a high rock. I swam about, relishing the coolness of the water and the beautiful surroundings. 'It gets dark quite early in the jungle and the setting sun cast a dull pink glow over the whole scene that signaled the combined voices of a million insects to commence their song of welcome to the moon that would soon rise. I was somewhat reluctant to leave the pool although the shades of pink from the dying sun had been replaced by mauve and dark blue, a warning of the approach of night. I had lit a hurricane lamp and hung it on the front support pole of my shelter and in the twilight its golden light was reflected upon the rippling water around me. I floated on my back and shut my eyes intoxicated with the sheer exuberance of it all.
'I must have dozed off for a minute, so I thought, but it could have been longer. I became suddenly aware of someone singing. It was a woman's soft, clear voice that seemed to come from afar but was becoming slowly louder and closer to where I was. I stood motionless in the shallow pool listening and wondering whether it was my imagination and if it could have been caused by the sound of the wind in the upper branches of the trees. But, It was a windless day with only low level, gentle gusts that ruffled the tall lallang grass.
'My senses were alerted when I heard the singing again. It was a woman's voice, there was no mistake about it! She could have been singing in Malay. Her voice was too distance for me to tell. It was a melancholy melody, almost a wail and I was instantly touched by its sadness. The singing suddenly stopped. After a while I heard rustling sounds in the tree above me. I now directed my attention to a tree fern that was attached to a branch that protruded over the pool and I heard a splash in the water close to where I was standing. I shuddered at the thought that it could be a leopard or a panther! My fears were almost instantly allayed when I saw in fast fading light it was a beautiful young woman, her long hair covering her breast. She was naked. She stood waist deep in the water and was smiling at me!
'She seemed to glide towards me as though she was skating on ice, her eyes fixed on mine. My heart began to race because I had become mesmerized by her beauty! The air was magically filled with the exotic fragrance of frangipani and I waited, not knowing what was going to happen next.' Truscott got to his feet and stood at the veranda railings, his arms akimbo, looking out at the moonlit bay. Hartley lit his pipe and frowned. Truscott said softly, 'She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen! I hadn't stopped to think who she might be or whether it was some fantastic dream I was having!'
A Chinese 'bar boy' refilled their glasses of whiskey. They sipped their drinks, the tock-tock-tock sounds of a night jar breaking the silence of the night. 'you had no reason to suspect she was an apparition?' asked Hartley seriously. 'Not at all, and I'll tell you why. It was because we were standing very close to each other and I could feel her hand touching mine!' said Truscott. 'And, suddenly she was in my arms... her soft, naked body pressed against mine!' Truscott turned round to face Hartley, his eyes wide. 'Then, for no reason she angrily pushed me away from her and scowled, her eyes now red and glowing. Cold fear griped me! I was looking at the Devil! I moved away and out of the pool. I tripped and fell on my back. I shut my eyes and protected my head with my arms expecting to be attacked, but nothing happened. After a while I opened my eyes a fraction. She was gone! I lay on the ground, panting and too afraid to move. Eventually, I crawled towards the glow of light from the hurricane lamp in my shelter. Reaching it, I collapsed in a deep sleep. When I awoke it was early morning. Birds were singing in the trees and the sun's rays were breaking through the canopy of green above. Had I dream it all?
'I began to gather my things, preparing to go home when I got the strong scent of frangipani, as I had during my hair raising encounter the previous night. And, then I saw something that made me hold my breath because on my shirt was a single strand of a woman's long black hair! Good God! So it wasn't a dream! She had visited me in my shelter while I was asleep! I was about to remove the hair from my shirt when a sudden gust of breeze blew it away! Was my imagination playing weird tricks? I quickly collected my camping gear and following a jungle track, went past the pool. I looked up at the huge tree fern on the branch that protruded over the pool's edge and where I had been the night previous. Then, something caught my eye. There were claw marks on the trunk of the tree and I heard the flapping of wings. I looked quickly around. There were no birds to be seen. Strangely, they had disappeared.
'I walked as fast as I could towards another path that led from the jungle. I had a strange feeling I was being watched. I do not know why, but I looked up and instantly shrank back in terror. A large, black bird with the face of a wrinkled old woman was perched on the branch of a tree! It had a long black hair, piercing red eyes and long claws! it strutted along the branch flapping its wings and making loud, cackling sounds without taking its eyes away from me! I felt fry in my throat and my heart was pounding in my ears! She seemed to enjoy watching my horrified reaction and it broke into high pitched, mocking laughter. Then, flapping its wings it lat out a terrified screech as though it was suddenly frightened by something it had seen. It swiftly flew upwards to a higher branch.
'I was trembling and expected it to return at any moment. I decided to run away from this evil as fast as I could! But, before I could take my first step I heard the voice of a man chanting in Arabic; 'Bismillaahir-rahmaanir-rahim', which in Malay means, 'In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.' The voice said in Malay; 'O accursed concubine of Satan! I know your evil origins! I killed your accursed mother who was also Satan's whore! Now, you have taken her place! You killed the woman and her unborn child1 I have come to end your evil life!' 'hearing these words the creature shrieked in terror and backed away. It then flew swiftly to the upper branches of the tree.
'I glanced nervously over my shoulder wondering who the owner of the voice could be and saw to my great relief that it was Mat Idris, the bomoh! He was holding a kris with a long, wavy blade in his hand. A moment later, I saw the weapon fly upwards into the trees. I heard a woman's agonized screams and suddenly the kris was back in the bomoh's hand. blood dripped from its blade. Mat Idris plucked some leaves and wiped it clean before returning the weapon to its sheath. Taking me by the arm, he led me quickly out of the jungle. We did not speak until we reached a woodcutter's hut. We sat down. By now I had recovered some of my composure but I was still very confused. From the cloth bag the bomoh produced a bottle of black coffee and a tin cup. He filled it and handed it to me. I eagerly swallowed the contents.
We were silent for some time. 'It was going to kill you because you had trespassed into its territory by bathing in her pool!' he said. 'You saved my life. I am most grateful,' I said, realizing that he knew everything that had happened to me. 'We began walking in the direction of my bungalow. I said to him, ;I would appreciate it if this matter is kept strictly between us.' 'He nodded his head and replied. 'I agree. Some people wouldn't understand.' Truscott finished the whisky that remained in his glass and at back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. 'What an incredible story!' Hartley exclaimed. 'Did you find out from the bomoh what made him arrive in time to save your life?' asked hartley. 'No.' Truscott said. 'I didn't think it mattered.' 'Did they find out who killed the woman and her unborn child?' asked Hartley. 'The police report said it was a tiger. Nobody in the kampung believed it', said Truscott. 'Did you?' asked Hartley. 'Do you think I had any reason to believe that the killer was a tiger?' asked Truscott. Hartly was thoughtful. 'No. I don't suppose you had any reason to,' he said with a smile.
Hartley said, There must a great number of songs and poems dedicated to the magic of moonlight to lovers, to broken hearts and one's thoughts immediately go to beautiful woman! Ah... yes, moonlight seems incomplete without the presence of a beautiful woman... ans passionate love! I remember the film Jungle Princess that was shown here in the 1930s. The story was about an American pilot played by Ray Milland who crashed somewhere in the sea off Malaya. He was rescued by the beautiful daughter of the chief of an island, the lovely Dorothy Lamour. The songs from the film were Moonlight And Shadows and Love Light In The Starlight sung by her in Malay and English! I think she was the first Hollywood star to sing in Malay. Everybody looked like a Malay. She had a creamy coloured skin and beautiful, long, black hair that fell to her waist! Love in the moonlight! Absolutely fantastic!'
Truscott grinned and said, 'You're not intending to ruin this marvellous night with sordid stories of your romantic past, are you?' 'No, I shall spare you the discomfort', said Hartley. 'But, speaking about moonlight, it seems that the famous 'Beach of Passionate Love' or Pantai Chinta Berahi in Kelantan has the reputation of being the most scenic of all places when a romantic moon casts its magic. Although I have visited Kelantan on several occasion, I have not seen the beach on a moonlit night. 'Well, you've missed something truly enchanting. It seems this moonlit beach at Kota Bharu has a special attraction for lovers. Superstitious people believed that it also attracts beautiful, lonely women who are in search of romance!' said Truscott. 'I say! That's something I didn't know! Tell me more!' said Hartley. 'You wouldn't sound so enthusiastic if I told you that some of these 'lovely ladies' were in fact half human creatures known as pontianak, the most terrible of all demons in Malaysia.'
'But, how could they be 'terrifying demons' and 'lovely ladies' at the same time?' asked Hartley. 'It's believed a pontianak after having gone through a ritual in which a nail is driven into the back of its head, transforms from a large, black ugly bird with a woman's face into a beautiful young lady or a sundal bolong that in polite terms means 'lady of the night'. They are known to marry and have children. It seems there are many who have done so and one is said to have married a member of a certain royal family.' 'I don't believe it!' said Hartley. 'But, I shall tell you something you would have to believe because I was in Kelantan at the time when it happened. It concerned a transformed pontianak and someone whom I had met briefly at the club in Kota Bharu. He was a rubber planter named Charles Steed. He was missing for some time and was rescued by a bomoh and police from a mountain cave where he was being held prisoner and tortured by a jealous lover who had died while giving birth to his child. She gave her soul to the Devil and become a pontianak so that she could take her revenge on him. He was almost a skeleton when they found him. Luckily, he survived. The pontianak was killed by the bomoh'.
'Hair raising!' exclaimed Hartley. 'If it was someone else telling the story, I would never have believed him!' They fell silent for some time. 'Do you believe there are such things as ghosts and demons?' asked Hartley. 'Yes, Do you?' replied Truscott. 'I don't know', said Hartley. 'Are you waiting to meet a ghost before you made up your mind?' 'No! I hope never to see one!' said Hartley. 'Is it because you secretly believed ghosts and demons are real! isn't that so?' 'Maybe. I don't know'. 'Would you like to meet a beautiful pontianak?' 'Beautiful? How do you know a pontianak is beautiful? Have you seen one?' asked Hartley. 'Would it surprise you to know that I have?' said Truscott. 'Oh, come on! You're not trying to amuse yourself at my expense, are you?' asked Hartley with grin. Truscott said, 'Seriously, it really happened. I suppose it was the magic of the moon and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen'.
You're not pulling my leg, are you?' said Hartley frowning and still unsure whether he was about to become the victim of huge joke. 'I am being perfectly serious. Take my word for it', replied Truscott. 'It's quite an amazing story. It happened about forty years ago.' 'Good lord!' muttered Hartley as he reached for his glass of whisky, feeling the need to steady himself before Truscott began his narrative. Truscott ran his fingers slowly through his long, grey hair, a far away look in his eyes.
'I was twenty three at the time and I had recently arrived in Malaya from England to join the civil service', he began. 'I was fortunate to be posted to Ringlet the main town in Cameron Highlands, the popular hill station where a waterworks project was making slow progress, following the lazy pace of life in a country where nothing was ever rushed. I found I had a lot of time to spare and took the opportunity to explore my surrounding, going for long walks alone, absorbing the beauty of the lush jungle, the sounds of the beautiful birds and insects, the distant roar of a tiger, the hooting calls of gibbons and capturing the beauty of the variety of gorgeous flowers with my camera. I would sometimes spend the weekends camping by myself in this wonderful and completely different environment that I had never imagined existed. I would sketch the plants and flowers in the vast, undulating jungle that rose in the distance to become part of the Central Mountain Range. It was absolutely beautiful.'
'I would assume you had fallen in love with the country?' remarked Hartley, smiling. 'Oh, completely!' said Truscott. 'I had made up my mind that it was where I would spend the rest of my days. You cannot imagine how much I appreciated the change from living in rather impoverished conditions in England and suddenly introduced to a life of luxury in a tropical paradise such as Malaya, a beautiful bungalow to live in, servants, good food, club life and enough money to spend and even to save each month! On top of it all, I had discovered happiness out there in the jungle! I wasn't going to give it up! It was a secret I jealousy guarded.' Truscott stared at the ceiling, recollecting his thoughts.
'I remember it was a Saturday afternoon. While my colleagues met for lunch and a round of golf as usual, I sneaked off into the jungle. I think by now I would have gained a reputation of being a man of strange tastes since I avoided drinking parties and whatever else my colleagues did in their spare time. I preferred to concentrate on my study of the Malay language that I was able to understand better than I spoke it in days, or to read books on Malayan history. 'I took my usual route to the jungle and after an hour's walk I rested in a small shelter I had constructed out of bamboo and leaves at a delightful nook on the side of a hill and quite close to a small waterfall that filled a shallow pool below with cool, sparkling water. Beside it grew a variety of plants. Some had giants leaves that were almost the height of a man. The trunks of tree ferns which I remembered a bomoh named Mat Idris, the father of one of my office staff, telling me were the favorite resting places of a dreaded female demon called the pontianak. He also had informed me that the jungle was full of Jinns and Orang Bunian as demons and fairies were called in Malay. Although he had only casually told me about this, I sensed he was trying to put me on guard since he was aware of my love for the jungle.
'I had been to this idyllic spot by the waterfall a couple of times before, but had not dared to swim in the pool or spend the night there before because I had once heard the growl of a tiger towards evening, it could have been a leopard or panther, but I made no attempt to find out. I was more interested in packing up and leaving. 'A few days later we were all startled by the news of the tragic death of a young Malay woman who was six months pregnant. she was savagely killed not far from her home one evening. 'From the claw marks on her body, police said that a tiger, panther or leopard could have caused her death. Superstitious kampung folk pointed out that the woman's stomach had been ripped open by a creature with long, sharp claws, such as those of a pontianak, and that no part of her body had been eaten which supported their opinion that her death was not caused by a wild animal. Neither were there any animal tracks.
'I happened to meet Mat Idris, the bomoh at the scene of the crime and he explained that when pontianak attacked a victim it left no tell tale tracks on the ground because it took the form of a large bird with long, sharp claws. he was convinced the woman was killed by a pontianak and volunteered his services to track it down. However, the English police officer in charge of the investigation had other theories. 'Despite the upsetting news of the woman;s murder and that a demon was responsible, the temptation to visit my secret jungle rendezvous had proved too much to resist. I returned to it the following Saturday.
'Getting there in the late afternoon, I went for a swim in the shallow pool close to where the cascading water fell from a high rock. I swam about, relishing the coolness of the water and the beautiful surroundings. 'It gets dark quite early in the jungle and the setting sun cast a dull pink glow over the whole scene that signaled the combined voices of a million insects to commence their song of welcome to the moon that would soon rise. I was somewhat reluctant to leave the pool although the shades of pink from the dying sun had been replaced by mauve and dark blue, a warning of the approach of night. I had lit a hurricane lamp and hung it on the front support pole of my shelter and in the twilight its golden light was reflected upon the rippling water around me. I floated on my back and shut my eyes intoxicated with the sheer exuberance of it all.
'I must have dozed off for a minute, so I thought, but it could have been longer. I became suddenly aware of someone singing. It was a woman's soft, clear voice that seemed to come from afar but was becoming slowly louder and closer to where I was. I stood motionless in the shallow pool listening and wondering whether it was my imagination and if it could have been caused by the sound of the wind in the upper branches of the trees. But, It was a windless day with only low level, gentle gusts that ruffled the tall lallang grass.
'My senses were alerted when I heard the singing again. It was a woman's voice, there was no mistake about it! She could have been singing in Malay. Her voice was too distance for me to tell. It was a melancholy melody, almost a wail and I was instantly touched by its sadness. The singing suddenly stopped. After a while I heard rustling sounds in the tree above me. I now directed my attention to a tree fern that was attached to a branch that protruded over the pool and I heard a splash in the water close to where I was standing. I shuddered at the thought that it could be a leopard or a panther! My fears were almost instantly allayed when I saw in fast fading light it was a beautiful young woman, her long hair covering her breast. She was naked. She stood waist deep in the water and was smiling at me!
'She seemed to glide towards me as though she was skating on ice, her eyes fixed on mine. My heart began to race because I had become mesmerized by her beauty! The air was magically filled with the exotic fragrance of frangipani and I waited, not knowing what was going to happen next.' Truscott got to his feet and stood at the veranda railings, his arms akimbo, looking out at the moonlit bay. Hartley lit his pipe and frowned. Truscott said softly, 'She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen! I hadn't stopped to think who she might be or whether it was some fantastic dream I was having!'
A Chinese 'bar boy' refilled their glasses of whiskey. They sipped their drinks, the tock-tock-tock sounds of a night jar breaking the silence of the night. 'you had no reason to suspect she was an apparition?' asked Hartley seriously. 'Not at all, and I'll tell you why. It was because we were standing very close to each other and I could feel her hand touching mine!' said Truscott. 'And, suddenly she was in my arms... her soft, naked body pressed against mine!' Truscott turned round to face Hartley, his eyes wide. 'Then, for no reason she angrily pushed me away from her and scowled, her eyes now red and glowing. Cold fear griped me! I was looking at the Devil! I moved away and out of the pool. I tripped and fell on my back. I shut my eyes and protected my head with my arms expecting to be attacked, but nothing happened. After a while I opened my eyes a fraction. She was gone! I lay on the ground, panting and too afraid to move. Eventually, I crawled towards the glow of light from the hurricane lamp in my shelter. Reaching it, I collapsed in a deep sleep. When I awoke it was early morning. Birds were singing in the trees and the sun's rays were breaking through the canopy of green above. Had I dream it all?
'I began to gather my things, preparing to go home when I got the strong scent of frangipani, as I had during my hair raising encounter the previous night. And, then I saw something that made me hold my breath because on my shirt was a single strand of a woman's long black hair! Good God! So it wasn't a dream! She had visited me in my shelter while I was asleep! I was about to remove the hair from my shirt when a sudden gust of breeze blew it away! Was my imagination playing weird tricks? I quickly collected my camping gear and following a jungle track, went past the pool. I looked up at the huge tree fern on the branch that protruded over the pool's edge and where I had been the night previous. Then, something caught my eye. There were claw marks on the trunk of the tree and I heard the flapping of wings. I looked quickly around. There were no birds to be seen. Strangely, they had disappeared.
'I walked as fast as I could towards another path that led from the jungle. I had a strange feeling I was being watched. I do not know why, but I looked up and instantly shrank back in terror. A large, black bird with the face of a wrinkled old woman was perched on the branch of a tree! It had a long black hair, piercing red eyes and long claws! it strutted along the branch flapping its wings and making loud, cackling sounds without taking its eyes away from me! I felt fry in my throat and my heart was pounding in my ears! She seemed to enjoy watching my horrified reaction and it broke into high pitched, mocking laughter. Then, flapping its wings it lat out a terrified screech as though it was suddenly frightened by something it had seen. It swiftly flew upwards to a higher branch.
'I was trembling and expected it to return at any moment. I decided to run away from this evil as fast as I could! But, before I could take my first step I heard the voice of a man chanting in Arabic; 'Bismillaahir-rahmaanir-rahim', which in Malay means, 'In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.' The voice said in Malay; 'O accursed concubine of Satan! I know your evil origins! I killed your accursed mother who was also Satan's whore! Now, you have taken her place! You killed the woman and her unborn child1 I have come to end your evil life!' 'hearing these words the creature shrieked in terror and backed away. It then flew swiftly to the upper branches of the tree.
'I glanced nervously over my shoulder wondering who the owner of the voice could be and saw to my great relief that it was Mat Idris, the bomoh! He was holding a kris with a long, wavy blade in his hand. A moment later, I saw the weapon fly upwards into the trees. I heard a woman's agonized screams and suddenly the kris was back in the bomoh's hand. blood dripped from its blade. Mat Idris plucked some leaves and wiped it clean before returning the weapon to its sheath. Taking me by the arm, he led me quickly out of the jungle. We did not speak until we reached a woodcutter's hut. We sat down. By now I had recovered some of my composure but I was still very confused. From the cloth bag the bomoh produced a bottle of black coffee and a tin cup. He filled it and handed it to me. I eagerly swallowed the contents.
We were silent for some time. 'It was going to kill you because you had trespassed into its territory by bathing in her pool!' he said. 'You saved my life. I am most grateful,' I said, realizing that he knew everything that had happened to me. 'We began walking in the direction of my bungalow. I said to him, ;I would appreciate it if this matter is kept strictly between us.' 'He nodded his head and replied. 'I agree. Some people wouldn't understand.' Truscott finished the whisky that remained in his glass and at back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. 'What an incredible story!' Hartley exclaimed. 'Did you find out from the bomoh what made him arrive in time to save your life?' asked hartley. 'No.' Truscott said. 'I didn't think it mattered.' 'Did they find out who killed the woman and her unborn child?' asked Hartley. 'The police report said it was a tiger. Nobody in the kampung believed it', said Truscott. 'Did you?' asked Hartley. 'Do you think I had any reason to believe that the killer was a tiger?' asked Truscott. Hartly was thoughtful. 'No. I don't suppose you had any reason to,' he said with a smile.
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