e his own and that of the
emperor of China, whose consequence is well known to the inhabitants of
the eastern islands, that of the sultan of Rum, by which is understood in
modern times, Constantinople, the seat of the emperor of the Turks, who
is looked up to by Mahometans, since the ruin of the khalifat, as the
head of their religion; but I have reason to think that the appellation
of Rumi was at an earlier period given by oriental writers to the
subjects of the great Turkoman empire of the Seljuks, whose capital was
Iconium or Kuniyah in Asia minor, of which the Ottoman was a branch. This
personage he honours with the title of his eldest brother, the descendant
of Iskander the two-horned, by which epithet the Macedonian hero is
always distinguished in eastern story, in consequence, as may be
presumed, of the horned figure on his coins,* which must long have
circulated in Persia and Arabia. Upon the obscure history of these
supposed brothers some light is thrown by the following legend
communicated to me as the belief of the people of Johor. "It is related
that Iskander dived into the sea, and there married a daughter of the
king of the ocean, by whom he had three sons, who, when they arrived at
manhood, were sent by their mother to the residence of their father. He
gave them a makuta or crown, and ordered them to find kingdoms where they
should establish themselves. Arriving in the straits of Singapura they
determined to try whose head the crown fitted. The eldest trying first
could not lift it to his head. The second the same. The third had nearly
effected it when it fell from his hand into the sea. After this the
eldest turned to the west and became king of Rome, the second to the east
and became king of China. The third remained at Johor. At this time Pulo
Percha (Sumatra) had not risen from the waters. When it began to appear,
this king of Johor, being on a fishing party, and observing it oppressed
by a huge snake named Si Kati-muno, attacked the monster with his sword
called Simandang-giri, and killed it, but not till the sword had received
one hundred and ninety notches in the encounter. The island being thus
allowed to rise, he went and settled by the burning mountain, and his
descendants became kings of Menangkabau." This has much the air of a tale
invented by the people of the peninsula to exalt the idea of their own
antiquity at the expense of their Sumatran neighbours. The blue
champaka-flower of which the su