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were gathered in the dirt streets of the kampong as we entered.  We passed one house with some interesting colored carving - probably a sort of club house - but the other houses were small and poor-looking, until we came to the Rajah's house.  It was high, with the exaggerated pitch to the roof that is so characteristically Batak, about thirty feet wide, and at least eighty long.  The roof was thatched, the front gable was woven of colored palm, the walls were of logs and planks whitewashed.  The doorway was reached by six steep, cock-eyed steps, and over the entrance was hung the half palm leaf, similar to the one by the durian tree. Under the eaves was a mynah bird in a bamboo cage, and a string of wild boar jawbones.

We climbed the steps and entered the dark, smoky interior of the house.  The Rajah rose from the low bench on which he had been sitting, and came to meet us, shaking hands with each one and greeting us with "Horas!"  He was dark and pump, rather coarse-featured, about fifty years old, and had a bad cold.  He wore a white shirt open at the neck, dark trousers, and a turban of brown batik.

We understood that the Rajah had a guest house which we were to occupy, but after some palaver our porters began to climb the steps to the house and bring all our belongings in, so it became rather obvious that we were going to live right with the Rajah.  Clean rattan mats had been spread on the floor, and we unpacked our cots so we would have something to sit on.

We found that we were in a room about 30 x 30 feet, with a small window on each side, and an open lattice work around the wall, a foot or so above the floor.  The front door was a great heavy wooden affair, built in two parts that swung together and were closed with a wooden ^[[hasp.]]. In the center of the room was an enormous post, carved in a small, all-over pattern, and painted red, black and blue.  In the rear part of the room, on the right, was a small, enclosed room that was the Rajah's private bedroom. On the left, to the rear, was the fireplace, a slab of stone set in the floor, and covered with ashes.  Over this ^[[were]][[strikethrough]] was [[/strikethrough]] two huge shelves supported by massive posts that came down from the ceiling but did not go all the way to the floor.  It looked something like an old-fashioned four-poster bed upside down, and buffalo hides and other treasures were stored here.  Along one wall were the various state uniforms hung on [[strikethrough]] hook [[/strikethrough]] poles.  Overhead in the rafters were the weapons of generations - blow guns, spears, blunderbuses, and fairly modern muskets.  At the back of the room a dark and narrow doorway led to the women's quarters.  Here one could always see a fire burning, and here the Rajah's five wives kept house for him. 

We asked to see the head wife, the [[strikethrough]] Palembon ^[[Poclam Buan [[Pul?]] ]] [[/strikethrough]] ^[[Parang Bolon]], and Mrs. Coenraad and I presented her with a piece of silk we had brought as a gift.  It was a two-yard length, enough to make the short jacket that the Batak women wear over their sarong.  She spoke no Malay, and we spoke no Batak, but she seemed pleased.  

The men settled down to explain to the Rajah what we wanted in his village - namely, animals.  Dr. Coenraad spoke in Malay to the Crown Prince of Siantar, a nice, intelligent boy, tremendously proud of his responsibility as interpreter for us, and he explained to the Rajah in Batak.  The Rajah, who is a

Transcription Notes:
I hope the third strikethrough formatting makes sense. A typewritten word was struck out, replaced by a handwritten guess which is hard to read and also struck out, finally replaced by a handwritten word that again, is hard to read.