eed, of a native Balinese of any kind, there was no sign. Barring
the harbor-master and a handful of Chinese, Boeleleng, which is a place
of some size, appeared to be deserted. Yet, as I strolled along its
waterfront, I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was being watched by
many pairs of unseen eyes.

"Where has everyone gone?" I demanded of the impassive Chinese steward
who served me liquid refreshment at the Concordia Club. (Every town in
the Insulinde has its Concordia Club, just as every Swiss town has its
Grand Hotel.)

"Menjepee," he answered mystically, shrugging his shoulders. "Evlyone
stay in house."

"Menjepee, eh?" I repeated. "Never heard of it. Some sort of disease, I
suppose, like cholera or plague. If that's why everyone has run away I
think that I'd better be leaving."

A ghost of a smile flitted across the Celestial's impassive
countenance.

"No clolra. No pleg," he assured me. "Menjepee make by pliest."

Before I could elucidate this curious statement there entered the club
a young Hollander immaculate in pipe-clayed topee and freshly starched
white linen.

"It's not a disease; it's a religious observance," he explained in
perfect English, overhearing my last words. "They call it Menjepee,
which, literally translated, means 'silence.' The Balinese are Hindus,
you know--about the only ones left in the Islands--and they observe the
Hindu festivals very strictly. Their priests raise the very devil with
them if they don't. During Menjepee, which lasts twenty-four hours, no
native is permitted to set foot outside the wall of his kampong except
for the most urgent reasons, and even then he has to get permission
from his priest. If he is caught outside his kampong without permission
he is heavily fined, to say nothing of being given the cold shoulder by
his neighbors."

"I was told in Samarinda," I remarked carelessly, by way of introducing
the topic in which I was most interested, "that some of the native
girls here in Bali are remarkably good looking."

"I thought you'd be asking about them," the Hollander commented dryly.
"That's usually the first question asked by everyone who comes to Bali.
But you won't find them on this side of the island. If you want to see
them you'll have to cross over to the south side. The prettiest girls
are to be found in the vicinity of Den Pasar and Kloeng Kloeng."

"So I had heard," I told him. "I am going to cross the island by motor
and have my boat pick me