d in Middle Java with five thousand of his
followers. In the sixteenth century, when a wave of Mohammedanism swept
the island from end to end, the Buddhist temples being destroyed by
the fanatic followers of the Prophet and the priests slaughtered on
their altars, the Buddhists, in order to save the famous shrine from
desecration and destruction, buried it under many feet of earth. Thus
the great monument remained, hidden and almost forgotten, for three
hundred years, but during the brief period of British rule in Java, Sir
Stamford Raffles ordered its excavation, the work being accomplished in
less than two months. Since then the Dutch have taken further steps to
restore and preserve it, though unfortunately the stone of which it is
built was too soft to withstand the wear and tear of centuries, many of
the bas-reliefs now being almost effaced. It remains, however, one of
the greatest religious monuments of all time.

* * * * *

Conditions at Surakarta--usually called Solo for short--are the exact
counterpart of those in Djokjakarta: the same puppet ruler, who is
called Susuhunan instead of Sultan, the same semi-barbaric court life,
the same fantastic costumes, a Dutch resident, a Dutch fort, and a
Dutch garrison. But the kraton of the Susuhunan is far better kept than
that of his fellow ruler at Djokjakarta, and shows more evidences of
Europeanization. The troopers of the royal body-guard are smart,
soldierly-looking fellows in well-cut uniforms of European pattern, to
which a distinctly Eastern touch is lent, however, by their steel
helmets, their brass-embossed leather shields, their scimitars, and
their shoulder-guards of chain mail. The royal stables, which contain
several hundred fine Australian horses and a number of beautiful
Sumbawan ponies, together with a score or more gilt carriages of state,
are as immaculately kept as those of Buckingham Palace. In the palace
garage I was shown a row of powerful Fiats, gleaming with fresh varnish
and polished brass, and beside them, as among equals, a member of the
well-known Ford family of Detroit, proudly bearing on its panels the
ornate arms of the Susuhunan. I felt as though I had encountered an old
friend who had married into royalty.

As though we had not seen enough dancing at Djokjakarta, I found that
they had arranged another performance for us in the kraton at
Surakarta. This time, however, the dancers were girls, most of them
o