Singapore Children's Favorite Stories

by Diane Taylor

  Now it was trapped in this circle of men, snarling and showing its teeth. Calmly Peng Hoe stepped forward, aimed his rifle carefully, and...

  BANG!...

  He shot the tiger stone dead. The beautiful but deadly creature lay at the feet of twenty-one men, and for a split second no-one moved.

  Then Peng Hoe lowered his rifle, and approached the tiger warily. Standing in front of it, he touched the tiger to make sure it really was dead. When they saw him nod his head, the men went wild. They lifted Peng Hoe into the air and carried him all the way back to Wang's house, singing at the tops of their voices, to tell him the great news.

  Wang shook Peng Hoe's hand and gratefully paid him the $20 reward. Thank goodness, he didn't have to worry about losing any more men.

  And as for Peng Hoe, he became a hero, and has been remembered ever since as the man who killed the last wild tiger in Singapore.

  Surrounding the tropical island of Singapore is, of course, water. On bright sunny days the ocean glows blue like the most luminous of sapphires. On stormy days it turns grey, with angry white caps on the tips of the waves.

  One stormy day, when the sea was lashing angrily at the coast-line sweeping in piles of weed and driftwood and flinging them onto the shore, a shoal of wild swordfish swept in with the tide. These creatures were fierce, with sword-like snouts that were as sharp as bread knives. They crunched into anything that happened to be in their path. They snapped and chopped and chomped and chewed.

  Some fishermen were standing on the rocks, hoping for a catch. Just one of these huge swordfish would feed a whole family for a week. But they were not so lucky. The fierce fish swept in so quickly, that soon not one fisherman was left. They were all knocked into the water, or eaten, or both.

  Some villagers nearby saw what was happening and were terrified. One or two went near to the water to take a closer look and—quick as a flash—were also seized by the swordfish. No-one else dared go near after that. The shaken villagers didn't know what to do next.

  "Aeeiiyah!" one cried. "It's a curse!"

  "The Gods of the Sea are angry with us," cried another.

  "It's the Raja's enemies," said yet another.

  "I'll go straight to the Raja and tell him," said a quick-thinking man, whose name was Ong. "He'll know what to do."

  And off he ran to the Raja's palace, which was about a half an hour away for a fast runner.

  The ruler of Singapore at this time was called Raja Iskander. He was a fearsome man. He was tall like a giant, with a mane of wiry black hair. As bold as he was bossy. As cold as he was cruel. As mad as he was mean. Ong reached the palace and panted his message to the guards on the palace gate.

  Now the Raja was curious about these swordfish. This wasn't the kind of problem you hear about every day.

  "Come through, come through!" commanded the Raja, "I want to hear more about this."

  Ong told the Raja all that he and the other villagers had seen. The Raja decided to take a look for himself. Perhaps one of his enemies had sent the fish as a trap, or as a warning. He ordered fifty of his men to escort him to the beach.

  When they arrived at the shore, the soldiers stood at the water's edge. Making sure he did not get too close, the Raja scanned the water. Nothing moved. The sun was high in the sky, and the sea was completely smooth, like sparkling turquoise silk.

  He watched as some of the soldiers began to patrol the beach. All was quiet. Just as they stepped into the shallows, there came a colossal...

  SNAP!

  And in the twinkling of an eye they were under attack. Hundreds of snapping jaws leapt out of the greeny-blue water at the same time, creating huge waves. They grabbed at the confused men. In another twinkling the soldiers disappeared under the foamy waves, clasped in the jaws of the vicious fish.

  The Raja panicked.

  "Destroy the fish!" he commanded, "Use your weapons. Don't let them get away!"

  But try as they might, the rest of the soldiers could not even get near. They tried to stab them with spears but faster than lightning, the huge fish lunged out. Thrashing wildly their beaks speared the soldiers instead.

  The sea ran red with blood, and as the waves pounded the beach, they washed right up to where the Raja was standing. Raja Iskander, watching all this, was shocked by the awful sight.

  He was just wondering what to do next, when a small boy ran boldly up to him.

  "Sir, order your soldiers to step back from the water. I spend lots of time fishing round here. I've seen these swordfish before. They stab anything that gets in their way. They will just kill all your soldiers, and come back for more. I have another idea that you should try! How about you get the soldiers to build a kind of trap? That way you can catch all the swordfish easily, and no-one else will get hurt."

  The Raja could hardly believe his ears. Here was a small boy, only about seven years old, giving a Raja instructions on what to do. He was actually rather offended that this cheeky boy would have enough courage to even approach him, never mind make a suggestion. But as he had no better idea himself he decided to let him speak.

  "Well young man, if you have an answer to this problem, better let me hear it."

  "You must build a wall," said the lad. "Banana stems will do. Build it all along the edge of the sea just here. Then when the fish come back on the next tide, the first thing they will do is attack the stems. Their sword-beaks will get stuck in the wall and they'll be trapped."

  "Hmmmmm! It's a simple enough plan," replied the Raja, stroking his beard. "It just might work. What's the harm in trying?"

  So the Raja commanded his men to come away from the water, and to collect banana stems instead. The relieved soldiers went quickly in search of banana trees.

  By the time the sun set, the tide had gone out, and all the swordfish had vanished with it. Not even one was to be seen.

  "They will be back on the next high tide," the boy advised the Raja. "You must build the trap quickly so its in place by the time they come back."

  The soldiers returned, group by group, bringing back bundles of banana stems. Soon great stacks of banana stems were piled along the shore. The soldiers began to build the fence, despite the dark, guided by the little boy. They rammed the stems into the ground all along the edge of the sea. They bound them firmly together. This made a firm fence between the fish and the people.

  The next day when the tide came in, again it carried hundreds of the swordfish with it. As the boy had said, they jabbed and stabbed their swords in all directions. Soon their sword-beaks were firmly jammed into the woody stems. Within fifteen minutes, every single swordfish was stuck fast. The soldiers quickly killed the trapped fish and gave them to the villagers for a feast. Soon, there were no more swordfish left in the water.

  Now the Raja was troubled by something else. Everyone was so delighted that the plan had worked, that the boy was getting lots of attention.

  "Well done, boy!" the villagers congratulated him. "Come and see us any time you like. We're very grateful!"

  "Interesting!" thought the Raja to himself, "This child is so clever that he can rid the island of deadly swordfish with just one simple idea. He has become popular too. He might grow up to be very powerful. He could take my position. I can't take that risk—I will have to do something about him, and do it fast."

  By the end of the morning the Raja had decided what to do. He would have the boy secretly killed. But by this time, the boy could not be found.

  "That boy, the one who told us to build the fence," said the Raja to one of the villagers. "Where does he live?"

  "He lives with his grandmother, in the smallest wooden hut on top of that hill," replied the villager, pointing to the forested hill behind them.

  "Captain!" the Raja called to one of his soldiers. "Find that boy and kill him immediately." He added in a low voice: "He is dangerous."

  "Yes, Sir!" the captain saluted. Right or wrong, no-one dared to question the Raja.

  The Captain took two soldie
rs with him. Hacking through the undergrowth and pushing aside branches that hung down like snakes, they wound their way up the over-grown path that led from the beach. In a clearing they found the tiny wooden hut. The boy wasn't at home, but a strange old woman with long white hair was there. Her face was as craggy as a walnut, and her nose almost touched her curiously curved chin.

  Before the Captain had even opened his mouth to ask for the boy, she spoke. "I know why you are here," she quavered, pointing a long bony finger at them. "You should be here to reward the boy who saved the lives of the army, and the fishermen. But your Raja is wicked. He wants you to kill the very child who helped you. I will teach you a lesson." Her voice rose to a shriek, "I'll punish you all!"

  The terrified soldiers fled back down the path, away from this witch. As they struggled and tripped through the forest, they heard her cackling and singing.

  "Run, run! You can't escape me!" They tried to run faster, but found that they were hardly moving at all. Some kind of magical power was holding them back. Suddenly, a hole opened in the ground in front of them, and thick, red liquid began to ooze from the ground. Faster it came, bubbling and fizzing by now, pouring down the hill, and turning all the soil red.

  "Until the small boy returns, this hill will remain the colour of blood," they could hear the old woman screeching. "This is a message to the island people to tell them of their cruel Raja and how he has made a big mistake."

  The plague of swordfish never returned, and the old woman and small boy have not been seen again.

  In fact, you might actually have been to the place where this happened. It is called Red Hill, or Bukit Merah, and the soil there is still red to this day.

  Long ago there lived a beautiful Malay princess whose name was Ria. Sadly, her mother had died while Ria was still a baby, but her father, whose name was King Aman, worshipped his lovely little daughter. Ria's hair was gleaming black, and flowed right down her back. She usually wore a red ribbon in it. Her face was open and friendly and her dark eyes sparkled with fun.

  Princess Ria didn't have any brothers or sisters. So King Aman tried to make her life as wonderful as he possibly could. She had lots and lots of servants. She had seven just to cook her favourite dishes each day. Three to make the latest clothes. Two to read her favourite stories to her, and to help her learn to read and write. Another taught her to sing. She even had a servant to bathe her, brush her hair and clean her teeth. She never had to lift a finger to do anything.

  You're probably thinking that she must have been a spoilt and horrible little girl. But funnily enough, she wasn't. She was actually very chatty really friendly and terribly kind and sweet.

  One day when she was sixteen years old, the King thought it was time for her to get married. Girls got married very young in those days, especially princesses. "My dear, I am trying to find you a good husband," he said. "One who will share your life, be fun to talk to, and be as kind as you are."

  To tell the truth, Ria did not want to get married. She loved her life at the palace with all her servants. Why would she need anyone else?

  The King told everyone he knew that he needed a husband for his daughter, and soon those people told everyone else. Before long, princes were coming to the palace every day. They usually came on horseback, or sometimes in a carriage. One even came on the back of an elephant. They came from nearby, and they came from faraway places that Ria had never heard of. All they could talk about was how important they were, or how much gold they had. She found them all very boring. None of them were any fun, and not one of them seemed sweet or kind. In fact, none of them took any real notice of her.

  One evening, King Aman held a huge banquet in the palace garden. Twelve hundred people were invited. Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses, Sultans and Sultanas. There were mountains of crisp shiny grilled meats, crunchy green vegetables in tasty sauces, exotic rice dishes, swirling, steaming noodles and colourful homemade cakes. Fresh fruit—every type you could possibly imagine—was squeezed into juice by a team of twenty five-fruit crushers.

  Very soon, Ria was bored. All the guests were busy guzzling their way through the mountains of delicious food, and slurping the fresh fruit juices. They were enjoying the party, and were not really interested in the young Princess. She really couldn't think of anything to say to them.

  King Aman waited patiently, and when his guests had eaten and drunk all they could, he stood up to make a speech: "My friends, I have invited you to this party so we can have fun together. I want you to eat as much as you can, talk and laugh and enjoy yourselves. I also want to talk to you about my daughter, the very adorable Princess Ria. You know she is the light of my life, and I will do anything at all to make her happy. She is now sixteen years old. It is time to find her a husband, my friends, and I need your help..."

  As the King talked on, everyone listened intently. Except for Princess Ria, who by now was very bored indeed. She slipped away from the party. If she'd stopped to think, she would have known that this wasn't a very sensible thing to do. However, Ria didn't stop to think. Why would she? Usually she never made her own decisions. She had no idea that dangers might lurk out there in the dark garden.

  She was so quick that no one noticed a thing. She tiptoed through the bushes and into the dark of the garden. It was very peaceful amongst the plants and flowers, and she sat down for a while. She noticed bats skimming the tops of the bushes. She saw owls swooping down to find food. She spotted insects hiding amongst the leaves. She heard the rustle of snakes in the undergrowth. But Ria wasn't scared. Not at all. This was the first time in sixteen years that she had ever been alone, and she loved it.

  Suddenly she heard a voice whispering through the leaves: "Ria! Ria! Where are you?"

  "I'm here," she replied. "But where are you?. And who are you? I can't see you."

  Ria looked around, and suddenly from out of nowhere, a very good-looking young man appeared. He was wearing the golden robe of a Prince, a turban, sparkling rings and in his hand he carried a gleaming silver dagger or kris. "I am the Prince of Dreams. Putera Impian is my name. I've been trying to talk to you all night," the handsome stranger said. "My palace is nearby, in the forest. We are neighbours! I came to ask you to marry me!"

  "Well," replied Ria, "I don't really want to marry anyone. But I'll happily talk to you. It's funny that I haven't met you before if you live so close."

  "My palace is just close by," said the Prince. "Come with me and I'll show you."

  Even though Ria thought she should ask her father's permission, she was intrigued. The Prince held out his hand, and she took it. In a split second she found herself before the most magical palace, with 450 rooms and 1,000 diamond-paned windows. A tower soared towards the sky, almost touching the moon. Giant mango trees grew in the garden and the air was heavy with the perfume of jasmine and other exotic flowers.

  Prince Impian and Princess Ria sat in the garden and talked under the moon. She was surprised to discover that he was very funny and entertaining. He told her stories and she told him about her life. He really seemed like the nicest prince, and Ria thought that perhaps she had found someone she could marry after all. They chatted and laughed and forgot all about the time, until Ria, feeling dozy and contented, fell fast asleep.

  As she slept she had the strangest dream. She dreamt that a little girl made a bed of emerald green moss for her, which was soft and velvety. As she lay down on it, she had a peculiar feeling that she was changing into a flower. The mysterious little girl, dressed in the colours of the forest, was whispering to her: "You are the keeper of the forest now, Ria. We have made you our Queen. You will be the largest flower in the forest and we will feed you all the year round. You are now Ria, Queen of the Forest."

  When Ria woke up, the sun was already shining brightly.

  "Oh no!" she exclaimed. "Father will be so mad with me. He'll think I'm lost. And where is Prince Impian? Why haven't my servants come to take me home, I wonder?"

  As she tried
to stand up she realized that she couldn't see the magical palace of the night before. In fact, she was at the edge of the forest, but still in her father's garden. Not only that, but she was rooted firmly to the ground.

  Poor Ria! Too late, she remembered the stories that her servants had told her about the spirits of the forest. It was said that these spirits captured people who were wandering or lost—and they were never found again. Ria realized she had been tricked by these spirits. She had been transformed into a huge flower. Her legs and feet were now roots, reaching deep into the soil. She was rooted forever to the spot.

  As time passed, she got used to her new life. The trees and shrubs around her protected her from danger. She was fed and looked after. In fact her life was not so very different from before. The only thing that made her sad was that she couldn't talk to her father.

  King Aman never found out what happened to his daughter. He was heartbroken. He had a statue of her built in his garden, near to where she had disappeared, and he visited it every day. Nearby grew a large and rather beautiful plant, called the Rafflesia, which can still be found in the jungles of Malaysia. She grows to about a metre across and weighs several kilos. She blooms only once every four years. Little did the King know that this was his beloved Ria, now Queen of the Forest, quietly watching him.

  About seven hundred years ago, there lived a Prince named Parameswara. One of his worst enemies was the Raja of Majapahit from Java. The Raja was a mighty warlord, and everyone was afraid of him. His tall figure with its broad physique was quite awesome. As he strutted around in his colourful robes, people would fall at his feet to honour him. The Raja had hundreds of warships and thousands of soldiers, and he wasn't afraid to put them all to work. He often sent his warships across the seas to fight. Sometimes it was to win new land. Other times it was just for sport. He really cared very little for the lives of his people.