LETTERS OF A JAVANESE PRINCESS
lighted in the pendopo; the regents stood assembled in official costume, and there were a few European acquaintances who were anxious to see sister for the last time as a maiden. In the aloen aloen, and all outside the kaboepaten, it was dark with people; only the road which was decorated with flags and green leaves remained free.
A streak of yellow could be seen in the distance; it drew nearer, till there appeared a train of open gold-striped parasols (pajoengs), under which the native officials walk on great occasions.
It was the retinue which preceded the bridegroom, who, with the other regents, was in an open carriage, which was covered with a glittering golden parasol. Gamelan music sounded from the pasebans and the kaboepatin, to greet the approaching procession.
It reached the kaboepatin and halted at the door of the pendopo. The whole company squatted down; the bridegroom got out of the carriage, and was led forward by two unmarried regents. They went into the pendopo, and all three knelt down in the middle of the room to do homage to father and the other regents. The two regents moved back, still on their knees, and left the bridegroom alone in the middle of the pendopo. The chiefs formed a circle around him, within which there was a smaller circle of priests. Father sat at the head of the regents, and the High Priest who was to perform the ceremony next to the bridegroom. Father announced to those present the reason for the calling of this assembly, and said that he now sought the assistance of the High Priest to bind his daughter in marriage to the bridegroom.
From the crowd of people in the pendopo there arose a mystic buzzing noise. They were praying.
I was so sorry that I could not be near enough to hear. A teacher who is a friend of ours, sister Roekmini, and I were the only women in the pendopo, which was filled with men.
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