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T7 IGZE *. 



I 



HARVARD UNIVERSITY 




LIBRA K V 

Vi Till 

PKABOhV MUSEUM OF AMERICAI^ 
ARCH\EOLOGV AND ETHNOLOriY 



mrr of /.■ 

WILIJAM MrM VVOODWORTH 



w-^" 



INSULINDE 



INSULINDE 

EXPERIENCES OF A NATURALIST'S WIFE 
IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO 



BY 



ANNA FOEBES 



WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS 

EDINBURGH AND LONDON 

MDCCCLXXXVII 



All Rights reserved 






k 



©elrtcatelr 

TO 

ISABEL, COUNTESS OF ABEEDEEN 

AS AN EXPRESSION OF THE WRITER'S ADMIRATION 

OP HER ladyship's BENEVOLENT INTEREST 

IN HER FELLOW - CREATURES 



PREFACE. 



Since my narrative explains itself, I have little 
to say here beyond accounting for a certain 
resemblance in these pages to the latter part 
of the work issued by my husband last year. 
After I joined him, we shared for the most part 
the same experiences ; but we looked upon 
them from an entirely diflFerent standpoint. 
Many of my own sex who might turn from 
*A Naturalist's Wanderings' because of the 
admixture of scientific matter, may find some 
interest in reading my simpler account. 

I have told my life as I lived it, with its 
interests and pleasures, its drawbacks and dis- 
comforts, neither romancing nor withholding. 
I may confess that I did not write these letters 
en route. For this I had neither time nor 
strength, as I was never one single fortnight 
free of fever after entering the tropics. The 



Vlll PREFACE. 

following pages are pieced together from letters 
actually written home, from my journal, and 
from recollections that can never be dimmed. 
I consider it an advantage to write when time 
has removed the exaggerations with which the 
mood of the moment might have distorted facts 
or influenced feelings; while I have also had 
opportunity for maturer consideration of, and 
authentic information on, many points. 

It is with pleasure that I acknowledge my 
indebtedness to my sister Carrie, and my friend 
Mr D. M. J. James, Forres, without whose aid 
these pages had never reached their present 
form. The former has transcribed this little 
work throughout; and the latter, on a sudden 
call to me to join my husband in New Guinea, 
has taken my manuscript from my hands, en- 
tailing on himself the no inconsiderable labour 
necessary for the completion of a book even 
after the actual composition is accomplished. 



ANNA FOEBES. 



RuBisLAW Den, Aberdeen, 
Gth March 1886. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER L 

PAGE 

Eastward ho ! — Colombo — The Java coast — Batavia — Hotel 
life — The sarong and kahi4X — A Batavian breakfast — 
The new town — Chinese peddlers — The Javanese, . 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Java, Buitenzorg — Botanic garden — Morning walks — 
Visits of ceremony — Song of the cicads — Mosquitoes 
— Life in the tropics — A native feast — The theatre — 
Dances — Our route, . .19 

CHAPTER IIL 

At sea — Dutch official migrations — Samarang — Straits of 
Mednea — Surabaya — Mermen and mermaids — Cargo of 
birds — Characteristics of Java — The Dutch colonial 
system, . . . . . . .30 

CHAPTER IV. 

Macassar — Its trade — Gathering cocoa-nuts — Macassar 
prahus — The Dutch and their native servants — Catholic 
settlement — Crossing the Banda Sea—Cupang — Timor 
beads — A Chinese gentleman — The governor of Timor, 42 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER V. 

Banda — Fire mountain — Arab school — Nutmeg woods — 
Life on shipboard — Clothing for the East — Bay of Am- 
boina, ....... 57 

CHAPTER VI. 

Amboina — A crushing disappointment — The captain of 
the Chinese — Paso — ^A peace celebration — Amboinese 
Christians, . . . . . .66 

CHAPTER VII. 

Paso — The return of the Rajah — Obstacles to travelling — 
Tengah-Tengah — Bread-fruit — Village of Waai — Sago 
making — Provisions — The census — People of Waai — 
Natural treasures— Forest excursions — Tropical flowers, 76 

CHAPTER VIII. 

"Waai — The rains — The Rajah — Native skiffs — Fish 

" mazes " — Aqueous life — Dangerous currents, . . 93 

CHAPTER IX, 

Departure from Waai — Through the forest — Brilliant 
colours — Back to Paso — Voyage to Amboina — Gaieties 
— The town of Amboina — Traces of the Portuguese — 
Evening scenes — Our Chinese friend — Mangosteens — 
The durian — Waiting for the steamer — Trassi — En 
route for Timor-laut — A Rajah pilot, . . . 100 

CHAPTER X. 

En route for Timor-laut — Gessir attol — The market at 
Gessir — Macluer Bay — The first white woman in New 
Guinea —A New Guinean village — Papuan women — 



(DONTENTS. XI 

Crowded — An albino rival — K^ islanders — The Am 
Isles — Dobbo — Pearls — ^The Eajah of Aru — Washing 
day-;— Approach to Timor — Her islands, . .119 

CHAPTER XL 

Tenimber — Larat Straits — Ritabel — The post-holder — 
Choosing a site for a house — Building — Our new dwel- 
ling — Our trade — Groods at a discount — Our visitors — 
A state of warfare — A palaver at Waitidal — Escape, . 137 

CHAPTER XII. 

Ritabel — Tenimber children — Fever — Hairdressing — 
Native inquisitivepess — Tenimber women — Cloth-mak- 
ing — Marriages, ...... 155 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Ritabel — Men — Their employment — Eating — War-dances 
— Morals — Boys — Babies, . . . .172 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Tenimber — Holiday garb — Heat — Want of water — Barter 
for food— Difficulties about provisions — Cocoa-nuts — 
A goose feud — A false alarm, . . .184 

CHAPTER XY. 

Tenimber — Slavery — ^Vegetation— Fire — Religious belief— 
Burial rites — Departure, . . .199 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Amboina — The Machiks — Voyage from Tenimber — Our 
black parrot — Banda — Amboina society — Dutch house- 
keeping — A native wedding — Bride dancing for money 
— Santa Claus — Leave for Banda, . . . 209 



Xll CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Banda — Timor — Dilly — Fever — Church and monastery — 
The convent — " Very distinguished society," . . 228 



CHAP TEE XVIII. 

Portuguese Timor — Servants — Journey to the hills — Up 
the Tiring Bocks — Our hut — The house-warming — 
Explorations — The rainy season — Scarcity of food — 
Goma, the interpreter — Visitors — Coflfee — Petroleum 
stores, ....... 241 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Portuguese Timor — Visit to Dilly — Earthquakes — Depar- 
ture of Goma — ^Flowers — Kambing Isle — Palm Sunday 
at Dilly— "Weak brandy-and-water," . .262 



CHAPTER XX. 

Portuguese Timor — Solitude — An old woman — Bufialoes — 
Encounter with a native— Letter from H. — Feelings in 
fever — Mountain-men, ..... 274 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Portuguese Timor — Solitude and sickness — Succour in dis- 
tress — Return of H. — Departure from Timor — Amboina 
— Menado — Surabaya — Conclusion, . . . 294 



THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 



CHAPTER I. 

EASTWARD HO ! COLOMBO THE JAVA COAST BATAVIA 

HOTEL LIFE THE SARONG AND KABIA — A BATAVIAN 

BREAKFAST THE NEW TOWN CHINESE PEDDLERS — 

THE JAVANESE. 

BuiTENZORG, April 8. 

You have doubtless long ago heard by tele- 
gram of my safe arrival in the East ; but you 
must be impatient to learn some details of my 
experiences. 

Forty-one days after leaving England by the 
Queensland mail we had passed through the 
Sunda Straits, and were winding an )ng the 
Thousand Isles towards the port of Batavia. 
Before reaching the Dutch Indies, I had a fore- 
taste of tropical beauty in a day on shore at 
Colombo in Ceylon ; and partly because all was 

A 



2 COLOMBO. 

80 new to me, partly that we had been many- 
days at sea, I was perhaps the more ready to 
receive the impressions of delight with which 
my introduction is associated. But it was made 
under particularly favourable circumstances. 
Heavy rain had fallen in the night before we 
landed; and as we rapidly drove through the 
bright clean streets of novel architecture, past 
natives familiar in pictures, by neat gardens 
under the rich unwonted foliage in the scent- 
laden air, my anticipations were more than 
realised; and when towards evening we drove 
back to the ship through the Cinnamon Gardens, 
gazing on a picture of surpassing splendour as 
the sinking sun diflFused his rich colour in a 
thousand hues over the sky, lit up the earth, 
and mirrored his dying glory in a long crimson 
gleam on the Lake, I ended a day not only of 
unmixed satisfaction but of keen enjoyment. 

After another fortnight at sea, it was pleasant 
again to look on land ; and all that last day of 
the voyage we never wearied of standing, glass 
in hand, watching on the right the amphitheatre- 
like slopes of the Java coast, laid out in coflFee- 
gardens and rice - terraces, and on the left the 
more distant, deeply indented coast of Sumatra. 
The lovely islets which stud the ocean recalled 



THE COAST OF JAVA. 3 

at once Max Havelaar s exquisite simile, where 
he speaks of "Holland's magnificent empire of 
Insulinde, which winds about the equator like a 
garland of emeralds." These islets we passed 
now so close as to see distinctly the forms of 
tropical vegetation, the huts, and even the dusky 
inhabitants; again at such a distance that we 
could only contrast the rich hues of their ver- 
dure with the deep blue of the sea. The coast 
of Java, nearer Batavia, presents a singular ap- 
pearance : for miles into the interior it seems 
elevated above the sea-level scarcely more than 
the height of the trees that cover it, and nothing 
can be seen save the sea-fringe of vegetation in 
front of a green plain, behind which rise the 
hills of Bantam and the Blue Mountains, as the 
old mariners call the peaks of Buitenzorg. 

It was already dark when we moored in the 
roads of Batavia, one of the greatest centres of 
commerce in all these seas, where rides a fleet 
flying the flags of all nations. H., who had 
returned to Batavia from a prolonged tour in 
Sumatra to meet me, now joined me, and took at 
once all responsibility. Transferred into a steam- 
tender, we approached the mouth of the long 
canal by which the town of Batavia is reached ; 
and having passed on shore at the Custom House, 



4 BATAVIA — BUITENZORG. 

where we had moored, we entered a carriage 
drawn by two fleet ponies of the famous Sum- 
bawa breed. We sped on for some miles through 
what seemed an endless row of Chinese shops and 
dwellings, before which the occupants, visible in 
the lamplight as we flashed past, sat smoking at 
their ease. Thence we emerged into a more genial 
atmosphere, where trees margined the street, 
and brilliantly lighted residences and hotels 
with pillared marble fronts gleamed through the 
delicate curtains of foliage which intervened 
between them and the roadway. 

Apartments were ready for me in the Hotel 
der Nederlanden, and there I remained some 
days ; but as I found the heat very oppressive, 
we have come here to Buitenzorg, some thirty 
miles inland, and considerably above the sea- 
level, where the climate is much pleasanter. 

But I must try to give you some idea of my 
first impressions of life in the East, — how dif- 
ferent from Western life and ways you must 
come here fully to learn. 

About 5.30 of the morning after my arrival, I 
was awakened by the rattle of cups in my veran- 
dah. CoflFee was already there, but, except to 
notice that it was neatly served, I did not heed 
that refreshment, for curiosity and wonder at 



JAVA HOTELS. 5 

the scene before me. Hotels here are all rather 
similar in plan. Imagine a quadrangle, the front 
of which is isolated from the three other sides 
of the square by the carriage-ways which lead 
into the centre. In this front block is the re- 
ception-hall, fronted by a verandah. The veran- 
dah is paved with marble, and disposed in it 
are numerous small tables, chairs, and lounges. 
Towards evening it is brilliantly lighted, and is 
the resort of the occupants of the hotel before 
and after dinner. Passing from the verandah 
through the reception-hall, you find the dining- 
room extending back into the square. It is 
simply roofed, and flowers in pots and pendent 
creepers fill the open sides. A few bedrooms 
have place in this front block : they are perhaps 
cooler, and are generally occupied by bachelor 
gentlemen who permanently reside in the house. 
For my part, I prefer one of those out in the 
courtyard formed by the remaining three sides 
of the square, for these have each a verandah, 
furnished with a table and a lounging-chair, 
making as it were a parlour for the occupant of 
the bedroom behind. I could best picture these 
rooms by comparing them to a row of cottages ; 
but instead of a porch to each, imagine a con- 
tinuous verandah the length of the row. They 



6 BATA.VIA — HOTEL LIFE. 

are of one storey; the floors are of flags, for 
coolness, with mats thrown here and there, and 
very simple furniture. The beds, however, are 
the largest I have ever seen, and are curtained 
top and sides with mosquito-screens : they are 
not furnished with any upper sheet or covering. 

My room was quite at the end of the row, and 
had a verandah at the end, as well as in front, with 
blinds drawing to the ground, which screened me 
from the gaze of passers-by, but through which 
I could easily see them. When I looked out 
that first morning, the occupants of the various 
"cottages" were just emerging, and, seating 
themselves in their sleeping attire, sipped their 
morning coflFee. I had been told that the bath- 
house was at the farther end of the square, and, 
summoning all my courage, I set oflF, armed with 
towel and sponge, to find it. Far down, I espied 
a lady companion of the voyage, who had been 
in Batavia before, and was therefore not so 
bewildered as I. She explained to me the 
Eastern mode of bathing, by having pails of 
water poured over the head, otherwise I should 
have been puzzled on entering the bath-room to 
know whether I was expected to climb into the 
large vat which stood there. The bath-rooms 
are arranged so as to be unspoilable from splash- 



BATHIKG — NEOLIQE COSTUMES. 7 

ing : a wooden net-work, on which one stands, 
covers a floor of flags, and the water flows 
quickly out by a wide drain. The manner of 
bathing is exceedingly refreshing, and is less 
fatiguing than a plunge-bath. As I returned to 
my room, at every " cottage " door sat the occu- 
pants, the gentlemen lying back in their chairs, 
with their bare feet extended over the long 
ledges which are there for the purpose. Ladies 
sat by them, and hahoos and ''boys" (male 
servants, waiters, and valets, men of all ages, are 
"boys" here) hurried hither and thither; the 
bustle of day had already commenced. Did 
you ever have a nightmare, the misery of which 
was that you imagined you were walking out in 
your night-dress ? That was exactly my feeling ; 
and the fact that I wore a dressing-gown made 
me an object of greater curiosity and regard, so 
that it was with the utmost thankfulness that I 
gained the shelter of my own room. 

All this publicity of private life is the effect 
of climatic influence. The easy attitudes and 
neglig4 costumes 1 describe appear fitted for a 
high- walled garden, or a country retreat, not for 
a public hotel ; but gradually one comes to feel 
that these habits are natural in the climate. 

You have heard of the sarong and kahia? 



8 NATIVE DRESS. 

You can recall the description which we read in 
Max Havelaar, and which we thought so extra- 
ordinary : " Mrs Havelaar was dressed in a 
long white gown or robe without waist-band, 
which descended to her knees. Instead of a 
respectable skirt, she wore underneath a piece 
of dark linen, covered with flowers, which seemed 
to be wrapped round her body and knees very 
tightly." The sarong and hahia form the native 
dress, adopted by European ladies for comfort 
and convenience in the climate, and worn by 
them as sleeping attire, as also during the day in 
a richer form, in which the skirt is of costly stuflF, 
and the jacket of fine lawn muslin or linen, 
daintily trimmed with lace or embroidery. It is 
not worn when receiving formal visitors, and 
young unmarried ladies are not expected to be 
seen in it beyond their private apartments ; but, 
with an apology for the liberty, it is worn almost 
constantly, except in the evening, when every 
one wears European costume for a few hours. 
In this country part, I see some ladies take the 
morning stroll in sarong and hahia, and I must 
confess I envy them, they look so lightly clothed 
and comfortable; and when the eye is accustomed 
to the costume, it is really becoming. I am 
actually, despite the amazement I experienced on 



THE SARONG AND KABTA. ^ 

first seeing it, now inclined to say it is pretty. 
"Describe it, then," you say. Yes; but how? 
Imagine a piece of calico, two yards long, cut 
from a web. Sew together the two raw edges, 
and you have a petticoat, without band or hem. 
Imagine it covered with floral patterns, or curious 
devices of crawling creatures, or having a village 
with houses and scenes from daily life depicted 
on it, and you see a sarong or skirt. Put this 
over your head, draw all the fulness in front, 
and form of this a large plait ; put round your 
waist, to hold it firm and confine it, a cord with 
a rich tassel depending, or a gay silk sash. Then 
put on ti peignoir y or dressing-jacket, of fine lawn 
trimmed with lace ; loosen your hair and let it 
fall down your back ; slip your stockingless feet 
into Indian-looking pantoffles, with gilt or silver 
embroidery, and with no upper heels, but very 
high wooden ones. Take now a fan in your hand, 
and promenade before your mirror, and you have 
some idea of the figures which my surprised eyes 
saw moving about the quadrangle of the Hotel 
der Nederlanden on the first morning after my 
arrival. After all, is it so extraordinary ? The 
European fashion at present is to have the dress 
drawn towards the back until it is really difficult 
to walk : aU fulness of the skirt is disposed be- 



10 BATAVIAN COSTUMES. 

hind. The arrangement of the sarong is simply 
this reversed, with the advantage that walking is 
not impeded. And how cleanly is the kabia. A 
lady puts on a fresh one twice or thrice a-day, — 
a frequency with which one could scarcely put a 
dress aside as soiled ; and the wearer always looks 
cool and at ease. 

Gentlemen wear a very loose and untrimmed 
form of the kabia, and wide, gay - patterned 
pyjamas as sleeping- dress, which they do not 
put oflF until it is time to dress for the day. 
They walk about the courtyard and even be- 
yond for a short stroll, with the addition only 
of a short tweed shooting-jacket, and are very 
ludicrous figures as the wind blows out the loose 
garments like sails in a breeze. This dress does 
7iot become them ! 

Between 7 and 9 breakfast is laid out in the 
dining-room, and when it suits you, you enter : 
one of the many waiters brings cofiee and eggs, 
and draws within reach a few of the numerous 
plates of sliced cold meat and sausage which 
are spread over the table. To one accustomed 
to an English breakfast, that ofiered here is very 
unappetising, but it is simply a go-between, and 
a good appetite awaits breakfast or tiflin at 12 
or 12.30, when no one could complain of want 



A BATAVIAN BREAKFAST. 11 

of substantials or variety. It is called by the 
Dutch the " rice table." On a large soup-plate 
you help yourself to rice offered on an immense 
platter, and over this you put a few spoonfuls 
of Malay curry, which has the appearance of a 
pale yellow soup. Then in close succession are 
offered fish, cooked in various ways, fried, stewed, 
curried ; fowl, likewise in different forms ; stewed 
beef, rissoles of pork, mince patties, fritters of 
maize, omelette, fried eggs, various vegetables, 
with many Eastern delicacies and piquant side- 
dishes. To these, a small portion of each having 
been taken, are added various condiments — 
pickles, sliced cucumber, chili, chutnee — which 
are offered prettily arranged on a large china 
tray. Then the whole is mixed with spoon and 
fork, the mixture having, I am told, a delicious 
flavour not otherwise obtainable. I have not 
yet tried it. I form a wall of rice between the 
fish and the fowl, and allow most of the dishes 
to pass. H. says I shall learn, however, to enjoy 
the rice table soon. 

Beefsteaks with fried potatoes follow this 
course, fritters of pine-apple and other sweets 
succeed, and the meal ends with coffee and 
fruits. How very rapidly it is got through ! 
But one needs to be initiated how to proceed. 



12 MID-DAY REST. 

I noticed an English family who had come on 
shore from a passing vessel for the day, who 
really got almost nothing. They took a little 
rice and curry and a morsel of fowl, and pro- 
ceeded to discuss these leisurely, refusing with 
a surprised air the many dishes oflFered. They 
then wished some of the good things which 
others had partaken of, but they had all disap- 
peared into the courtyard towards the kitchens, 
and it was only on H.'s intervention that they 
were served with some beefsteak. 

After this mid-day meal, all who are not forced 
by business engagements to return to town retire 
to rest, and silence like night falls on the house. 
No one is seen stirring : even the servants fall 
asleep in corners until about 4 o'clock. Then 
tea is brought, and along the " cottage " row the 
scene of early morning is repeated. One after 
another appears with towel on arm proceeding 
to the bath-houses, and about half-past 5 all are 
ready in European toilet for an evening stroll 
or drive, previous to dinner at 7.30. It seems 
that the fashion so long prevalent of ladies 
going out at this hour in demi-toilet is passing 
away, bonnets and close dresses being now in 
vogue ; but many still hold to the old fashion, 
and the effect is rather pretty as they promen- 



WALKS IN BATAVIA. 15 

ade under the great avenues or flash past in 
carriages in the gathering dusk. Gentlemen, 
however, still go with uncovered heads. 

Taking the opportunity of the comparative 
coolness of early morning and early evening, 
we saw not a little of Batavia during the few 
days of my stay. I call it a beautiful city, and 
you must not imagine it behind the world, for 
steam tram-cars puff along its streets. There 
is an old town and a new. The old town — 
close, fatal-climated Batavia of past days — ^lies 
near the strand, scarcely at all above the sea- 
level. A traveller dropped down here by chance 
might make a very good guess at the national- 
ity of the dominant power. Canals intersect 
the town in every direction ; and dear are these 
placid water-roads to the heart of a Hollander, 
as to a Highlander his heather hills. On the 
banks of these are the Government offices, the 
Town -house, and the various consulates and 
banks ; and round this European nucleus cluster 
the native village and the Arab and Chinese 
quarters. In this low-lying, close neighbour- 
hood, devoid of wholesome water, scorched in 
the day-time, chilled by the cold sea-fogs at 
night, the Eastern merchant of long ago re- 
sided as well as traded. Out of this, however, 



14 THE king's plain — THE HARMONIE. 

if he survived the incessant waves of fever, 
cholera, and small-pox, he returned home in a 
few years, the rich partner of some large house, 
or the possessor of a great fortune. 

All this is changed now. The open salubrious 
suburbs of the new town can be reached by train 
in a few minutes. The King's Plain, which is a 
mile square, is flanked by fine residences stand- 
ing among groves of trees. In this district the 
Governor -General has his official palace; and 
here are built the barracks, the clubs, the hotels, 
and the best shops, dotted along roads shaded 
by leafy hibiscus shrubs. 

Not far from the Hotel der Nederlanden is 
the Harmonic, a fine club-house, the grounds 
of which presented a charming scene when I 
first entered. Brilliant moonshine made fairy- 
land of the rich foliage, sweet heavy scents of 
tropical plants pervaded the air, a band dis- 
coursed faultless music, and hundreds of gaily 
dressed people moved to and fro between the 
lamp-glare and the dimmer moonlight, or sat 
playing or talking at small tables in Continental 
fashion. 

Every morning we drove to the hospital, a 
large and splendidly conducted institution in a 
beautiful situation, to see an English friend of 



CHILDREN — THE CHINESE. 15 

H/s, who was lying there. Coining back we 
generally met the children going to school, — 
little bands of them, with faces about as white 
as their garments. Girls wear simply a pina- 
fore, or chemise if you will, of white starched 
muslin, over rather long drawers, white stock- 
ings, and long black boots. The eflfect is 
rather odd, and my impression on first seeing 
them was that a number were setting ofi* to 
bathe still half-dressed. I was also much in- 
terested in watching the gay and bvisy scene 
on the canal near our hotel, — tiny barges, busy 
washers, and black bathers enlivening it from 
daybreak to sUnset. 

Batavia contains many thousands of Chinese 
inhabitants. Without this element, indeed, she 
might almost close her warehouses and send the 
fleet that studs her roads to ride in other har- 
bours, for in every branch of trade the Chinaman 
is absolutely indispensable. Many of them pos- 
sess large and elegantly fitted -up shops, filled 
with European, Chinese, and Japanese stores. 
Their workmanship is generally quite equal to 
European, and in every case they can far un- 
dersell their Western rivals. Numbers of a 
poorer class go about as peddlers, canying all 
sorts of wares, from a silk dress to a linen 



16 CHINESE PEDDLERS. 

button, from a China service to a thimble. 
When you emerge from the bed-chamber to 
the verandah to sip your morning coffee, John 
Chinaman is before you. His wares are already 
undone. He presses you to buy with a persist- 
ence to which at first you fall a prey, were it 
only to rid you of his importunity. He makes 
the most ridiculous overcharges to the simple 
purchaser, who is not consoled to learn that 
his loss is the gain of the next 'cute buyer, who 
purchases at a figure under the real value of 
the article, while a fair profit is enjoyed by 
the vendor between the two extremes. How 
patiently he undoes all his bundles, and lays 
out the contents of his boxes, never retorting 
a word to your angry dismissal ! Although 
amused the first day, and interested in seeing 
his novel wares, I soon tired of the unceasing 
interruption. One has hardly gone when 
another succeeds him, and I took refuge in 
pretending that I neither saw nor heard, while 
the peddler tried first broken English, then 
phrases of French, until I could not resist 
laughing aloud. Arabs are sometimes seen 
engaged in this line of business, but they are 
not so patient or so politic. A Chinaman 
always waits till his predecessor goes ere he 



ARABS — THE JAVANESE. 17 

comes forward with his goods. An Arab was 
one morning spreading before me boxes of 
tortoise - shell and sandal - wood, embroidered 
slippers, jewellery, fans, muslins, &c., when 
another pushed forward, saying in the most 
laughable English, "Madam, do not buy from 
that man, — he tells lies, and he is a Moham- 
medan; I am Christian, and I will npt cheat 
you." But his face belied him. The Arabs, 
too, do a little business in the town as shop- 
keepers and money-lenders, but in a much 
quieter and less obtrusive way than the 
Chinese. They are oftener owners of some sort 
of coasting craft, with which they trade from 
port to port, and to the outlying islands. 

Some of the most elegant mansions in Batavia 
are owned by wealthy Chinese and Arabs ; but 
strong restrictions are laid upon both nation- 
alities because of their intriguing disposition, 
limiting even the number of horses that may 
be run in their carriages, while they are pro- 
hibited from trading in the interior of the 
island. 

The Javanese do not perform the most menial 
work. They have an exceedingly refined cast 
of feature, are highly intelligent, have a differ- 
ent bearing and wear a different (Jress from the 

B 



18 THE NATIVES. 

Natives, as one calls the Sundanese and coast 
Malays. These natives are vehicle - drivers, 
small traders, and assistants to the Chinese, 
but the bulk of them are coolies. The more 
intelligent are household servants, but as a 
rule their intelligence is not of a high order, 
while they are very lazy and inclined to dis- 
honesty. 



19 



CHAPTER II. 

JAVA, BUITENZORG BOTANIC GARDEN MORNING WALKS 

VISITS OP CEREMONY — SONG OF THE CICADS MOSQUITOES 

LIFE IN THE TROPICS A NATIVE FEAST THE THEATRE 

DANCES OUR ROUTE. 

BUITENZORG. 

We are here established in the Hotel du Chemin 
de Fer, where the French host and hostess are 
very kind. Buitenzorg (the word means " free- 
dom from care ") is one of the chief holiday and 
health resorts of sick Batavians, and possesses 
not only a magnificent climate, but scenery of 
great beauty and picturesqueness. It is over- 
looked by two large and, at present, harmless vol- 
canic mountains — the Salak, with its disrupted 
cone, into whose very heart one looks through 
the terrible cleft in its side ; and the double- 
peaked Pangerango and Gede, out of whose crater 
is ever lazily curling up white vapoury smoke 
from the simmering water which at present fills 
the summit of its pipe. Besides the fine views 



20 BCriTENZORG. 

to be had in its neighbourhood, Buitenzorg is 
chiefly remarkable for its botanic garden, perhaps 
the finest in the world, which surrounds the 
Governor-Generars unofficial residence. Every 
morning finds us in these gardens. I have 
already learnt that if you wish any enjoyment of 
the tropical day you must be up before the sun, 
and get out when his light is just coming over 
the horizon. The freshness of this hour, when a 
soft wind blows, bearing sweetest scents, almost 
compensates for the great heat, which comes too 
soon, and which the dusk does not relieve, for the 
earth still sends ofi* a heated air that makes the 
wind warm. H. has been in Buitenzorg several 
times; he knows the gardens well, and shows 
me many beautiful details I might have passed 
unnoticed. On the right, the garden descends 
through groves and arbours, whose luxuriance of 
growth and richness of leaf are new to my eye, 
to its boundary stream, now (for it is the rainy 
season) rushing and foaming over the great 
boulders of rock which lie in its bed. Standing 
on the terrace by its bank, under a canopy of 
tall palms that form a shade from the early sun, 
and looking over the torrent to stretches of fresh 
green fields, we taste the sweetness of a tropical 
morning. A beautiful vista towards the other 



THE BOTANIC GARDEN. 21 

side of the town has recently been opened near 
the palace, of which the photograph I send gives 
only the faintest idea. The foreground has been 
cleared by the felling of a wide strip of great 
trees, and in their place is now a smooth lawn, 
studded with plots of many varieties of flourish- 
ing roses, from which the eye lifts itself to the 
towering heights of the Salak mountain, whose 
distant, bare, burnt sides are in strong contrast 
to the verdure close at hand. 

A long wide avenue of kanarie-trees, which 
interlace high overhead in a superb leafy canopy, 
traverses the garden ; and by the stream, another 
of great banyan-trees forms a tunnel-like corridor. 
On the left of the central walk are two others less 
striking, but more remarkable. One is of Brazil- 
ian palms, whose globular base and smooth-ringed 
stems, straight and symmetrical, as if turned 
in a lathe, contrast strongly in their whiteness 
with the deep green of the leaf-sheaths and crown 
of foliage; the other of bamboos, of various species 
and most luxuriant growth. A slight breeze 
generally rises about 10 A.M., and in the deep 
shade of these avenues one can walk or drive at 
noon in comfort. We never miss a daily visit to 
a seat under an umbrageous India-rubber tree, in 
front of which a fountain plays into a circular 



22 NATIVES. 

pond, dotted with blue and white flowers of 
water-lilies and Victoria regias. 

Occasionally we extend our morning walk to 
the environs, past the dwellings of the natives, 
whom we meet coming to market. If we stop a 
casual passer-by, and inquire the name for any 
tree, or flower, or bird, or insect that attracts us as 
we walk along, he can at once answer, explaining 
its use or habit. How neat their wares look in 
the deftly plaited case of strips of leaves or grass, 
or in a morsel of banana leaf, kept firm with a long 
thorn. How cleverly they utilise leaves, cocoa- 
nut shells, the bamboo, and other such products 
laid ready to their hand, as culinary utensils and 
tools for daily toil. Yes ; nature is kind in this 
sunny land. One's heart need not ache for the 
starving, ill -clad, shelterless poor. Times of 
famine and waves of epidemic do occasionally 
distress the inhabitants, but these are rare. 
With sunshine, and comparative leisure to enjoy 
it, they are happy. It does one good to see the 
satisfied air of the humble natives, whose homes, 
though very poor, are not squalid or miserable. 

All visits of ceremony are made in the even- 
ing, between sundown and 8 o'clock. It is 
customary to intimate in the morning your in- 
tention to call, and an answer is sent to let you 



VISITS OF CEREMONY. 23 

know if your friends will be at home. A carriage 
costs the same for four hours as for one, and 
when you are going to call or to dine, it is 
ordered as soon as the declining sun makes it 
cool enough, and the fleet little steeds have taken 
you away out into the country before the short 
twilight ends. When your visit is over, they 
come back, flashing past the native houses, where 
fires for the evening meal burn red, and into the 
European neighbourhood, where guests are being 
received in brilliantly lighted verandahs. 

When one does not wish to receive, the fore 
verandah is not so lighted. If at home, the 
family keep in the inner hall, or sit at one end 
of the verandah reading by a single lamp, or 
sway to and fro fanning themselves in the rock- 
ing-chairs, which are the chief furniture of all 
verandahs. 

At the approach of dusk the ear is surprised 
by such a strange tumult that one eagerly 
asks, " What is it ? " Is it the rush of distant 
water? Is it the noise from a thousand over- 
charged gas-burners ? Is it the creaking of an 
overstrained mill, — that stridulous, rushing, 
whirring, buzzing sound, which rises and falls, 
and dies and swells again ? It is only the song 
of the cicads, the bark of the frogs, the chirp of 



24 MOSQUITOES. 

the lizards — a sort of glee from the inhabitants 
of the trees, bushes, and hedges. 

Like all new-comers, I am tormented by mos- 
quitoes. No precaution is absolute protection 
from this pestering little foe. One wishes he 
were more tangible, that he might be combated ; 
but so cleverly does he accomplish his cruel per- 
secution that he is soaring off, buzzing his tri- 
umph, before one begins to feel the tickling 
which is but the precursor of days of irritation 
from his little puncture. A lady advises me 
never to retire without a candle (to search for 
him), a towel (to slay him), and a bottle of eau 
de Cologne (to allay his annoying wounds) ; but 
despite such precautions he will sting the hand 
raised to annihilate him, even while you are 
watching for him to flit past. Death has been 
known to ensue from a mosquito's bite. A 
friend related to me that on first coming to 
the Dutch Indies she all but lost her foot 
through one. She was writing, and, intent on 
her occupation, did not notice that she had 
been scratching an inflamed bite with her shoe. 
Shortly the foot commenced to swell, and soon 
presented such an appearance as to cause her 
great alarm. From this wound she was confined 
to her sofa for a month, and it was for some 



LIFE IN THE TROPICS. 25 

time under debate whether it would be necessary 
to amputate the foot. A gentleman who came 
on shore for the night in Batavia had his arm 
so swollen from two punctures that he was un- 
able to dress next day, the inflammation being as 
severe as from vaccination. Mosquitoes are most 
annoying in the rainy season, for then they seek 
the shelter of the house ; but always in the even- 
ing they buzz about near the lamp. Sometimes 
to read or write by lamplight is quite impossible. 
They do not allow one moment's peace ; the only 
plan is to give yourself up to self-defence, and 
sit down with a fan and eyes on the alert. When 
the salon is arranged for the evening, shields are 
hung over the backs of the open canework chairs 
to prevent the mosquitoes stinging between the 
shoulders, where it is so difficult to relieve the 
tickling by rubbing. 

Do I like life in the tropics ? Yes, indeed, I am 
enchanted with all I see, I enjoy many indescrib- 
able sensations of delight — but do not envy me ; 
you have compensating pleasures in England. 
When you walk among the scented pines, and the 
glinting sunbeams disclose in the modest seclusion 
of the tall grass the tiny starwort and the pretty 
veronica ; when you go to meet the fresh wind 
blowing over a gorse-clad moor with step that 



26 A NATIVE FEAST. 

bounds to the lark's mad carolling overhead, know 
that you have an enjoyment never to be had 
here. Here is no joyous spring; here reigns 
for ever an oppressiveness of richness, a mono- 
tony of profusion, which cannot have the charm 
of the sweet June-tide, the crown of the year. 
There are no " sunless days when autumn leaves 
wear a sunlight of their own," and you may never 
see the fairy-like freaks of Father Frost. 

I was fortunate enough, through the kindness 
of our host of the hotel, to see a native feast, 
given in honour of the son of the chief butler, 
who had just finished his studies at school with 
considerable credit. About 10 o'clock of a per- 
fect moonlight night we set off* for the scene of 
the entertainment, some distance from the town, 
and approached a greensward shut in by tall 
trees, through arches festooned with greenery and 
gay decorations of flowers. In the open air, in this 
natural enclosure, the tables were already spread. 
Preparations, we were told, had been in progress 
for over a month, and the quantity of substantial 
viands and confections of attractive colour and 
skilful composition showed that the time must 
have been busily employed. We found the 
guests already seated, talking and gazing at 
the tiers of plates containing the eatables, — for 



NATIVE DANCING. 27 

it is only after hours of patient restraint that 
the feasting commences on a signal being given. 
Several hundreds occupied the tables arranged 
for the general company; at a little distance, 
almost curtained in by draperies of flowers and 
foliage, by a white-covered table sat natives of 
rank and importance in gay costumes and glitter- 
ing jewels, relieved by the black coats of a few 
European gentlemen. "We did not mean to par- 
take, so were led to a canopied and carpeted dais, 
where, however, we had set before us some of 
the daintiest of the confections. Beyond the 
invited guests were hundreds more of onlookers, 
who feast in their own way, purchasing from the 
many vendors mingling in the crowd. All, how- 
ever, enjoy alike the theatre and the dance. The 
former is a ludicrous exhibition of a series of 
grotesque hobgoblin creatures, which are re- 
presented on a large sheet by a magic lantern. 
The advent of each fresh figure is greeted by 
the beholders with screams of delight, which sink 
into murmurs of criticism till the next moves 
on the scene. 

The dance is the performance of a youth and 
a maiden, in which, however, the latter takes 
the more prominent part. Her hair was very 
neatly arranged, and decked with white flowers. 



28 NATIVE DANCE. 

She was gaily attired in a sarong of spangled 
purple velvet, and a bodice, compressing her 
shoulders like a vice, of the same. Over the 
purple skirt was another of green satin, edged 
with gold fringe ; and she not ungracefully man- 
ipulated an embroidered sash, casting it now 
over her shoulder, again round her wrists, as 
she contorted the hands and arms into attitudes 
outvying the achievements of a dansetise. The 
part played by the feet is very insignificant, — 
simply a gentle shuffling motion from the one 
to the other. At intervals the youth shuffled 
towards her from the edge of the circle, and 
after much preamble embraced her, wearing a 
countenance as expressionless aa her own ; but 
this climax calls forth loud applause, which is 
responded to by a silly grin. 

The monotonous clanging and tinkling of a 
native band suit well the slow movements of 
the dance. The chief instrument is the gamelau, 
consisting of a series of eight or ten gongs gradu- 
ated in size, set in a bamboo frame, and played 
on much as the harmonica is, but with two sticks. 
We are told that in the hands of a skilful player 
very pleasing music is produced. A thinner 
sound is emitted from a similar series of anvil- 
looking blocks of metal, and these instruments 



NATIVE MUSIC — OUR ROUTE. 29 

axe supported by numerous flutes and primitive 
two-stringed violins, as well as by cymbals and 
tinkling instruments. Through all booms the 
deep note of a large single gong, set in a tripod 
frame, the whole forming a massive if not over- 
musical orchestra. Each member of it seemed 
to play with heart and soul, making ludicrous 
facial contortions and genuflections, and sway- 
ing the body to and fro, as if carried away by 
the enchantment of the music he produced. 

We take passage on the 15 th of this month 
from Batavia to Amboina. You remember our 
destination is Timor-laut or Tenimber Islands, 
a small group shown on the map as lying be- 
tween the considerable islands of Papua or New 
Guinea and Timor. We shall get as far as 
Amboina, in the Moluccas, by the Netherland 
India steamer Bromo, and find other means of 
proceeding thence to Timor-laut. A steamer of 
this company makes the tour of the archipelago 
once a month, going from Macassar northwards, 
coasting Celebes, calling at Amboina and Timor, 
and passing through the Flores Straits to Macas- 
sar, one journey, and reversing the route the 
next. We happen to go by the southern route. 
I shall do my best to post some news of our 
progress at Macassar. 



30 



CHAPTER III. 

AT SEA DUTCH OFFICIAL MIGRATIONS — 8AMARANG STRAITS 

OF MEDNEA SURABAYA MERMEN AND MERMAIDS 

CARGO OF BIRDS CHARACTERISTICS OF JAVA THE 

DUTCH COLONIAL SYSTEM. 

Macassar Sea. 

With daylight on the 15th April we were speed- 
ing from the Hotel der Nederlanden, in Batavia, to 
the wharf, to embark in the steam-tender waiting 
to take us out to the roads, where the Bromo was 
riding at anchor. We had dined the previous 
evening in the suburbs, and afterwards attended 
a fancy-dress ball in the public gardens, return- 
ing after midnight to finish packing and make 
ready for the start early next morning. After 
this night of fatigue, the rapid drive in the cool 
morning air was delightfully refreshing, and I 
wished it could have lasted some hours instead 
of thirty minutes. The sun rose too quickly, 
and waiting on the steam -tender till all was 
ready was indeed trying. Officers looked over- 



AT SEA — DUTCH OFFICIALS. 31 

burdened in their cumbersome uniforms, and 
ladies seemed distressed in European clothing. 
One lady fainted, and every one suflfered until 
we set oflf and caught the breeze from the sea : 
when we had climbed to the deck of the Bromo 
it was comparatively cool. 

The bulk of the passengers by this route are 
officials changing residence from one part to 
another of the Dutch possessions, or military 
officers changing their station. We learn that 
when such a change is ordered, the furniture of 
the old home is sold, because transport is so very 
dear. With the proceeds of the sale all debts 
are paid, and a fresh start is made. But in 
some remote parts furniture could not be pur- 
chased, and all that is needful must be taken. 
All have some household gods to which they 
cling : there are flowers, and the children's 
domestic pets cannot be left behind, so the 
ship is like a garden and menagerie combined, 
while furniture not only crowds the deck, but 
is hung in every available space overhead, so 
low that one must always be looking out to 
avoid being bumped. 

We are a considerable company, a floating 
village. Besides the saloon passengers on our 
deck, there are the maid and men servants, who 



32 ON SHIPBOARD. 

are in constant attendance on the families with 
whom they are going to the new home. There 
is no defined place for these hoys and hahoos: 
they sleep on the floor of the saloon, without 
pillow or mat, wearing the dress of the day- 
time. Going down in the dim lamplight, one 
has to be careful to avoid falling over some 
dusky slumbering form ; and despite the utmost 
heedfulness, an arm or foot extended by the 
unconscious sleeper trips you up, and sends you 
stumbling on to the head of another. 

The cabins receive no attention from the ship 
servants, and one who has not learnt this arrange- 
ment suffers considerable discomfort, for no per- 
suasion avails to induce them to keep one's cabin 
clean and in order. This seems equally strange 
to another party on board, the family of the 
governor- elect of Portuguese Timor, who are 
on their way from Portugal. The ladies of this 
party are the only Europeans who, like myself, 
wear European dress. We had not been half 
an hour on deck when the Dutch ladies ap- 
peared in sarong and kahiay looking greatly 
relieved in the light clothing. Common-sense 
must admit that, for suitability to the climate, 
no dress can compare with it. How very dif- 
ferent the scene is from that on an English 



SAMARANG. 33 

steamer! I find endless amusement in simply- 
looking on. 

In two days we moored ofi* Samarang, having 
seldom lost sight of the much-indented coast of 
Java, which presented to our view ranges of 
undulating hills, backed by imposing mountains. 
The shallowness of the harbour of Samarang does 
not admit of anchorage within several miles from 
the mouth of the canal, which, as at Batavia, 
leads to the town. Being still fatigued from the 
exertions of the days preceding our departure, 
we did not attempt to go on shore. The heat 
was insufferable as we lay these two days motion- 
less in the bay, and it was the greatest relief to 
start for the next port, Surabaya, where it is 
required that all disembark with their whole 
possessions for five days. Sailing straight to 
Amboina, without any stoppage, would take 
about one week. The expense of a voyage, and 
the loss of time, are considerable when you must 
go all round the archipelago, and wait at differ- 
ent ports until the vessel is ready to proceed. 
But there is absolutely no other means of travel : 
this company has a monopoly, and voyagers have 
no alternative except the risks and dangers of a 
native prahu, to face which the experience of 
another traveller did not invite us. Mr Wallace 



34 SURABAYA. 

spent thirty -eight days on a voyage which 
should have been accomplished in twelve, and* 
had to struggle constantly against wind and 
tide. 

We passed through the Straits of Mednea in 
the night, and early in the morning of the 19th 
April were in the bustle of disembarking for the 
five days, until the steamer should resume its 
voyage. There is the same level foreshore as at 
Batavia and Samarang, and the same manner of 
approaching by a long canal. The row from the 
ship to the canal was over before the heat of the 
day commenced, and we were ready to be towed 
along from the custom-house by eight o'clock. 
Men tow on each bank by long ropes, and manage 
very cleverly to keep clear of the barges and 
boats of all kinds which crowd the canal. Some 
ships and tenders of considerable size passed us, 
and the gay dresses of the crews, and the bright- 
painted vessels, made this canal scene a most 
animated picture. We landed at our hotel sim- 
ultaneously with the Da Fran9a family, having 
kept up from our several boats a conversation on 
the novel sight passing us. We gained its 
shelter with some thankfulness, after our long 
exposure to the sun. 

The hotel resembles greatly in construction the 



SURABAYA. 35 

one in which we lived in Batavia : our room this 
time, however, is in the front part of the huild- 
ding. I am now accustomed to hotel life in 
Java, and amuse myself at my ease, looking on 
the busy scene. The same round goes on, the 
early rising, the busy morning, the ample lunch, 
the afternoon of rest, and the gay evening. How 
refreshing it is to go driving at the sunset hour 
with those sharp-trotting ponies. If you wish to 
go beyond the town any considerable distance, it 
is the rule to drive with four horses. One such ex- 
cursion we had occasion to take, and as the scen- 
ery of the environs of Surabaya is exceedingly 
pretty, we had no slight pleasure in the drive. 

The town is of no mean size, and is a busy 
seat of trade : its importance is added to by a 
large dock, where ships from all parts are repaired. 
There is, besides, a Government arsenal, and these 
industries bring a considerable European popul- 
ation. Their pleasant homes are in a suburb 
which we had occasion several times to visit, 
to enjoy the hospitality of kind friends. Public 
gardens laid out with much taste are a great 
amenity, and it is customary to descend for half 
an hour in the course of the evening drive to 
walk in the shrubberies and hear the excellent 
music of the band. 



36 MERMAN AND MERMAID. 

Entering a Chinaman's shop in the crowded 
part of the town to make some purchases, we 
saw a wonderful collection of curiosities. Among 
these were some carved statues of great value and 
interest, but most curious to us were a mummi- 
fied merman and mermaid. These I had always 
thought to be fabulous creations of simple- 
minded seafarers, but those we saw were cer- 
tainly sufficient to give origin to the tales we 
have heard of them. The upper part of the 
body is quite human in form, and is smooth- 
skinned ; the face is ape-like, but human enough 
to suggest the comparison, only there is no hair 
on the head. The fore-limbs are arms with five 
fingers. The lower part of the body is that of a 
fish with scales and fins. 

We saw also a cargo of birds just arrived from 
New Guinea, and ready for despatch to Europe 
— 2000 skins of the orange-feathered bird of 
paradise, 800 of the king-bird, and a various lot 
of others. This, remember, was only one cargo, 
and the traffic will go on the whole season. 
Such a fearful slaughter of these lovely birds is 
really distressing. Soon we shall have lost off 
the face of the globe these unique and most 
gorgeous of the feathered tribes. There were 
also some skins of the rare six-shafted or golden 



SURABAYA. 37 

paradise bird. It is figured by Mr Wallace in 
his ' Malay Archipelago/ but the illustration 
gives no idea of its velvety plumage. 

Surabaya is low-lying and sultry, but the heat 
at mid-day is not by any means so trying as on 
shipboard. The early mornings at sea are 
delightfully fresh, and with the sunset hour 
comes a welcome wind, while the evening is cool : 
the afternoon, however, is almost unendurable, 
especially when lying still in harbour. The 
double awnings are baked, the decks are hot, the 
glistening sea reflects pitilessly the powerful 
sun, giving no relief to the tired eyes, and 
sending up only an air as from an oven : no- 
where is there any escaping from the strong 
heat. Here, in a dw^elling constructed for cool- 
ness, it is by no means unbearable. Sometimes, 
seated in a shady verandah, listlessly rocking 
to and fro, one is lulled into dreams of home, 
and visions flit through the mind of winter 
evenings and blazing hearths, and the comfort of 
listening to the fierce wind whistling in the 
gables ; and, involuntarily, comparisons will in- 
trude of the respective merits of chilblains and 
prickly *heat. 

Our next port is Macassar, which we reach 
after a sail of two days and two nights. We 



38 JAVA. 

leave behind us the most beautiful, as well as 
the most fertile, most productive, and most 
populous tropical island in the world, of which 
I regret that I am able to say so little, for I 
have scarcely more than coasted it. Java is 
magnificently varied with mountain and forest 
scenery, and is by no means inaccessible to the 
tourist. The famous Daendals, while Governor- 
General of the Dutch Indies from 1808 to 1811, 
caused roads to be made that even now excite 
the admiration of every visitor. Important 
railway routes have been opened up within the 
last two years ; but in many districts posting is 
still necessary, a mode of travelling which the 
nature of the country renders full of excitement 
and danger. I have good authority for stating 
that no post-horses in Europe can compare with 
those of Java. 

Let me quote a few sentences for your infor- 
mation : — 

" This island possesses many mountains, some 
rising ten or twelve thousand feet high ; the 
abundant moisture and tropical heat of the 
climate causes them to be clothed with luxuri- 
ant vegetation often to their very summit, 
while forests and plantations cover their lower 
slopes. The animal productions, especially the 



JAVA. 39 

birds and insects, are beautiful and varied, and 
present many peculiar forms found nowhere 
else upon the globe. The soil throughout the 
island is exceedingly fertile, and all the pro- 
ductions of the tropics, together with many of 
the temperate zones, can be easily cultivated. 
Java, too, possesses a civilisation, a history, and 
antiquities of its own, of great interest. The 
Brahminical religion flourished in it from an 
epoch of unknown antiquity till about the year 
1478, when that of Mahomet superseded it. The 
former religion was accompanied by a civilisation 
which has not been equalled by the conquerors ; 
for, scattered through the country, especially in 
the eastern parts of it, are found buried in lofty 
forests, temples, tombs, and statues of great 
beauty and grandeur, and the remains of ex- 
tensive cities, where the tiger, the rhinoceros, 
and the wild bull now roam undisturbed." 

" To the ordinary English traveller, the Malay 
Archipelago is perhaps the least known part of 
the earth. Few persons realise that as a whole 
it is comparable with the primary divisions of 
the globe, and that some of its separate islands 
are larger than France or the Austrian Empire. 
The traveller soon, however, acquires different 
ideas. He comes to look upon this region as 



40 DUTCH COLONIAL SYSTEM. 

one apart from the rest of the world, with its 
own races of men and its own aspects of nature ; 
with its own ideas, feelings, customs, and modes 
of speech, and with a climate, vegetation, and 
animated life altogether peculiar to itself." 

Although I had read that this archipelago 
contains three islands larger than Great Britain, 
and that it would stretch over an expanse equal 
to that of all Europe from the extreme west far 
into Central Asia, the associations of my child- 
hood have so chained my Inind, that till now 
I have been unable to dissever the tiny specks 
depicted on the map between Asia and Australia 
from their Liliputian proportions. 

Holland adopts a different system from our 
own in her subject possessions. She accommo- 
dates herself to the natives, conducting inter- 
course of all kinds in their language. The con- 
struction of the Malay tongue is most simple, 
and I find it exceedingly pleasant to the ear; 
there are, besides, no impossible sounds. I have 
seldom heard the Javanese language ; it is much 
more difiicult to acquire, but has a more elegant 
and refined sound. 

We are now nearing Macassar. The Da 
Fran9a family are our constant companions. 
H. speaks a little Portuguese, while they all 



THE DA FRAN?A FAMILY. 41 

speak French as fluently as their own tongue. 
They are a party of fourteen, — Monsieur and 
Madame, their eldest son and his wife, two 
young ladies, and six young children. Their 
good bonne, old Jacinthe, is the thirteenth, and 
accompanying them is Monsieur Fontes, a naval 
officer going to command the Government vessel 
which rides in the Bay of Timor. 



42 



CHAPTER IV. 

MACASSAR ITS TRADE GATHERING COCOA-NUTS MACASSAR 

PRAHUS THE DUTCH AND THEIR NATIVE SERVANTS 

CATHOLIC SETTLEMENT CROSSING THE BAND A SEA 

CUPANG TIMOR BEADS A CHINESE GENTLEMAN THE 

GOVERNOR OP TIMOR. 

Coasting Flores, 30^^ ApriL 

It lias been very rough and almost cold crossing 
from Macassar to Sumbawa, and we were truly 
thankful to gain the shelter of the Bay of Bima. 
When you are fairly in, no outlet can be seen, 
and the general aspect of the bay with its 
mountainous surroundings vividly suggests Loch 
Lomond. A few short hours, and we were out 
again on the troubled waters. To-day, however, 
we are running along the coast of Flores, the 
Land of Flowers of the early Portuguese 
mariners, in more placid waters, and I make 
an attempt to continue. 

We lay four days at Macassar, and had ample 
opportunity to see all that is to be seen. Let 



MACASSAR. 43 

me first say that 1 saw no Macassar oil. I 
looked in every window, and read every sign- 
board, and scanned every building that might 
be a factory, and asked every one I came in 
contact with, but no one knew anything about 
Macassar oil ! 

Macassar is the point from which the products 
of Western civilisation are disseminated through 
the barbarous East, and is one of the great em- 
poriums of the native trade of the archipelago. 
Rattans from Borneo, sandal-wood and bee's-wax 
from Flores and Timor, tripang from the Gulf 
of Carpentaria, cajeput-oil from Bouru, wild 
nutmegs and mussoi-bark from New Guinea, — 
are all to be found in the stores of the Chinese 
and Bugis merchants of Macassar, along with 
the rice and coflfee which are the chief products 
of the surrounding country. There is also the 
trade to the Alu Islands, of which almost the 
whole produce comes to Macassar in native 
vessels to contribute to the luxurious tastes of 
the most civilised races. Pearls, mother-of- 
pearl, and tortoise-shell find their way to 
Europe, while edible birds'-nests and tripang, 
or sea-slug, are sent ofi* by ship-loads for the 
gastronomic enjoyment of the Chinese. 

Near the wharf Macassar has quite a business 



44 MACASSAR^— COCOA- NUTS. 

aspect. Here for the first time we had the com- 
fort of being moored to the shore ; by simply 
crossing the gangway we were on terra JirTna. 
Passing from the wharf, one enters a long street 
where European, Chinese, and Arab warehouses 
and shops are closely wedged; it opens into a 
broad avenue of stately trees which skirt a green 
sward. The grounds of the Government man- 
sions open from the avenue, and here also are 
the best European houses, with a good club- 
house or reading-room, where the * Graphic ' and 
many good papers may be seen. An imposing 
fort, very white against the grass, fills one end 
of the green. I like walking when possible, one 
gets so cramped on board ship, so each morning 
we made our way to the outskirts, passing fre- 
quently through some native village. In one of 
these I first tasted the milk of the cocoa-nut, 
and saw the expert way of obtaining the nuts 
from the tall trees. Slight notches are cut all 
up the stem at the distance of a stride, by which 
with unfaltering steps the gatherer mounts, plac- 
ing the great toe in the notches. A cocoa-nut 
tree is exceedingly beautiful ; the long, smooth, 
upright grey stem is just fit to be crowned with 
the feathery plumes that bend so gracefully over 
it. The nut gathered fresh is very different from 



MACASSAR PRAHUS, 45 

the fruit as seen sold in our markets. The colour- 
less liquid which issues on the nut being opened 
has the appearance of water, but has a slightly- 
sweet flavour, and is most refreshing. The 
natives allowed us to enter their dwellings, 
and seemed as pleased to have a white visitor 
as she was to make herself acquainted with the 
interior of a bamboo-hut. 

In one long street edging the beach there is a 
series of miniature shipbuilding yards, where the 
famous Macassar prahus are built. These vessels 
are of such curious construction that a short de- 
scription might interest you. Looking at a 
native prahu, you would scarcely care to trust 
yourself to a voyage of some thousands of miles 
in it, but they cruise all over the archipelago 
with as few casualties as any other sort of 
craft. The shape suggests a Chinese junk. 
Some are as small as a fishing-coble — I speak of 
one of about eighty tons burden, with about 
thirty of a crew. The deck slopes greatly down 
to the bows : it is thus the lowest part of the 
vessel which cuts the waves. The strangest part 
of its construction, and a source of much appre- 
hension to any called to trust their life in a 
prahu for a considerable voyage, is a large hole 
about a yard square which runs through the 



46 Pit AH us. 

after-part of the vessel three feet above the water 
line, and which is actually open to the hold. It 
is quite puzzling how these boats weather a 
storm without being swamped by the first half- 
dozen seas. 

The fittings and appliances are all of native 
material, and there is an absence of the qualmish 
smells incident to a steamer, — " no grease, no oil, 
no varnish ; instead of these, bamboo, rattan, and 
palm thatch, all pure vegetable fibres, which, if 
they smell at all, smell pleasantly, and recall 
quiet scenes in the green and shady forest." Mr 
Wallace says of a twenty days' voyage in one, 
that he never travelled with so little discomfort, 
and this he attributes to the absence of paint, 
pitch, tallow, and new cordage, to the freedom 
from all restraint of meal hours and of dress. 
This last consideration is by no means insig- 
nificant. It is often simply a trial to the flesh 
to sit out dinner in the saloon of a steamer 
in the usual dress. The large company in the 
limited space, the many servants, the smoking 
dishes, create a temperature which, long ere the 
tedious meal is finished, induces a streaming per- 
spiration, and one leaves the table with garments 
almost as wet as if one had been bathing instead 
of dining in them. Still, if one is anxious to 



FIRST TOUCH OF FEVER. 47 

reach a destination in a given time, the steam- 
vessel has doubtless the advantage over a 
Macassar prahu. 

Numbers of these prahus, as well as many 
steamers and sailing-vessels of varied build, with 
the large white guard-ship, make the Macassar 
roadstead gay and animated ; and although to us, 
leaving behind the busier centres, it seems the 
first taste of rusticity, I can imagine that on a 
return from the seclusion of the isles around, it 
must seem the gate of life. In Macassar resides 
one of the three governors that are under the 
Governor - General of the Dutch Indies. The 
position of these is kept up with some dignity. 
Visits were exchanged between the Governors of 
Timor and Macassar, and the latter's carriage, 
with four fleet cream-coloured ponies, was morn- 
ing and evening at the Da Franja family's dis- 
posal. 

I had the first touch of fever I have experi- 
enced just after leaving Macassar: probably I 
had been out in the sun too much. It was not 
severe, — ^just sufficient to produce an unconquer- 
able lassitude. Lying on a sofa one evening 
at dusk, apparently asleep, when all the others 
were down dressing for dinner, I heard a con- 
tinual talking near by me : gently turning, I saw 



48 THE DUTCH AND THE NATIVES. 

one of the governor's little lads seated within 
a circle of chairs, stools, and footstools. In 
childish fiishion he was holding over again the 
reception which his father had that afternoon 
given to the Governor of Macassar and suite, 
and with bows and compliments and the most 
gracious manner was conversing with the ima- 
ginary circle of visitors. I was intensely amused, 
and dared not move lest I should discomfit the 
boy by the discovery that he was observed. 

This voyage gives an excellent opportunity 
of seeing the relations of the Dutch with their 
native servants. These, both male and female, 
loll or crouch about the deck all day, ready to 
run down-stairs on an errand for the mistress 
or children, or bring a light for master's cigar. 
Children all speak Malay, and repeat their little 
tales and rhymes in that language. Their 
Dutch speech until they go to school is very 
imperfect. 

At Larantuka, before entering the strait of 
that name, some of the gentlemen went on 
shore to visit a Catholic settlement : it was 
then raining so heavily that we could not ac- 
company them. The wooded slopes, as we ap- 
proached the village, seemed to invite nestling 
villas and turreted chateaux, while the tiny spire 



CATHOLIC SETTLEMENT. 49 

of the chapel looked a promise of peaceful safety. 
But there is a reason. for the closely crowded 
monastery buildings and the strong stockade 
which we could see encircling them. The na- 
tives, except the villagers who have come under 
the civilising influence of the priests, live in the 
mountains, and every now and again come down 
and make a night-raid on the establishment, in 
such force that they always have the best of 
the fray. 

The priests were evidently glad to have Euro- 
pean visitors, and treated our party with ever)'- 
kindness. H. bought a pair of shell armlets, 
which were with the utmost difficulty withdrawn 
from the wearer's arm ; another tried to get hers 
off, but it was found impossible. These orna- 
ments are put on in childhood, and as the person 
grows they form a groove in the arm, from which 
it is surprising that strangulation of the limb 
does not ensue. 

Crossing the Banda Sea. 

We were in Cupang, the capital of the Dutch 
half of the island of Timor, the day after our 
passage through the beautiful Flores Straits. 
As soon as our anchor dropped in the bay, we 
were surrounded by small boats, whose rowers 
had quite a distinctive appearance, arising from 

D 



50 CUPANG. 

their dressy attire, which, however, is simple 
enough when examined. On their shoulders 
they wear a fringed plaid hanging in the grace- 
ful fashion of the Highland costume. Their 
hats — such wonderful hats I — are made of the 
pale spathe of the Borassus palm-tree, and be- 
sides the neatly constructed crown and " Devon- 
shire " brim, they are elaborately ornamented 
with a mass of flowers and plumes, wonderfully 
modelled from chips of the spathe. Such a hat 
would be most becoming to a fair English girl ; 
but to these male wearers, with their sooty 
skins and wild frizzly mops, they gave the 
most grotesque appearance. 

On going on shore we were delighted to find 
there an Englishman, who took us to his home 
and left us to the good care of his wife and 
daughter, by whose hospitable kindness we en- 
joyed a pleasant change from shipboard, and 
had the opportunity of seeing and learning a 
deal of life in Cupang. The ladies insisted that 
I should get oS my English clothing and try 
the comfort of the sarong and kahia. Mrs 
Drysdale informs me that every Dutch lady 
takes pride in her store of these garments, and 
a dozen dozens of the jacket is not considered 
an over-stock. She showed me beautiful ex- 



THE SAROiVG AND KABIA. 51 

amples of the skirt, some almost cloth -of- gold 
from the quantity of it inwoven, while others 
were curious specimens of patterns of native 
fancy. I saw for the first time a fashion of 
belt worn by some to support the skirt instead 
of the usual sash : it is of pure beaten gold of 
native workmanship, richly chased all round, 
though only the clasp is ever seen on a chance 
opening of the jacket. There was also one of 
silver, less elaborate. These belts are highly 
valued, and handed down as heir- looms. I 
also learnt that there is considerable art in the 
proper arrangement of the sarong. On each of 
the poorest as well as of the richest make there 
is a strip called the kapala, which must fall 
straight down the left leg just on the top of 
the fold containing the fulness. It is part of 
the costume to wear a medallion or pretty orna- 
ment on a necklace amongst the lace of the neck 
of the kabia, which is made slightly open for the 
purpose, while jewelled studs are worn to fasten 
it instead of buttons. 

As soon as it was cool enough we walked out, 
and found Cupang a bright, clean, neatly laid- 
out town, situated at the base of abrupt hills. 
It has a considerable Dutch population, living 
in pretty substantial houses, embowered in 



52 CUPANG. 

greenery. The true natives of Timor we did 
not see : they come down from their mountain 
homes only occasionally to meet purchasers of 
bee's-wax, dammar for torches, and such pro- 
ducts ; but no intercourse can be established, for 
they will not conform to civilisation. Trade is 
conducted by barter, tobacco being a favourite 
article of exchange ; but they will strive for years 
to get the means of purchasing a species of bead 
of a reddish colour, evidently a sort of soft 
stone, giving for it more than its weight in 
gold. Whence these beads come is quite un- 
known ; the natives say they are pulled off the 
grass blades in certain spots very early in the 
morning. The counterfeit beads made in Bir- 
mingham for the Chinese traders are excellent 
imitations, but the native is not to be deceived 
into giving the price of the genuine article. 
A complete string of eight or nine inches costs 
about £12. 

Trade in Cupang is in the hands chiefly of 
Chinese and Arabs : the dark race we met in 
the streets are natives of the island of Solor, 
who are imported for servants and coolies. 

From Macassar to Cupang we had a Chinese 
gentleman as saloon passenger, and as I had 
never before occasion to be so near a member 



A CHINESE GENTLEMAN. 53 

of the Celestial Empire, I took the opportunity 
to study his tojct ensemhle. How does it come 
that John Chinaman has a rich development 
of unusual length, where John BuD has only a 
shining bare patch ? One afternoon when H. 
was talking to our Chinese companion, I 
seated myself close behind and examined' his 
distinctive feature. Every bit of the head is 
clean shaved except this patch on the crown, 
which, thick enough itself, is reinforced by a 
quantity of red silk, which is interwoven with 
it, and forms a fringe at the point. Our friend s 
white calico jackets and spacious trousers were 
specimens of perfect laundry -work, while the 
loose coats of cloth or silk which he wore in 
the cooler hours were beautifully tailored, and 
ornamented with jewelled buttons set in gold. 
As we were walking through the town, he hailed 
us from his door, and invited us in to have tea. 
His little sons, evidently in holiday attire to 
celebrate their father's return home, served us 
with the pale liquid as they drink it, without 
sugar or cream ; his ladies did not appear further 
than to stand peeping round a screen. His 
house was handsomely furnished in Chinese 
style, with numerous pagodas and cabinets and 
much gilding. Surely home is as dear to a 



54 CUPANG— CHINESE AND ARABS. 

Chinaman as to an Englishman : this good man 
sustained the part of master of the house with 
evident pride, and seemed complacently happy 
on his return to the familiar surroundings. 

The poor class of Chinese wear blue trousers, 
white being reserved for the rich. But all 
alike have the white jacket, which is always 
clean and fresh, for the Chinese are prized as 
laundry- workers all over the East. Some have 
white silk inwoven in the pig-tail, the elderly 
substituting black, for thus the growing scanti- 
ness of age is not so apparent. Even an old 
man of eighty has a creditable plait, and the 
pride of all wearers is evinced by the frequency 
with which the appendage is drawn round and 
gazed at, and felt and stroked. 

There is in Cupang a large Chinese and Arab 
population, and I could not help contrasting the 
two races. The Chinaman everywhere has a 
bright, clean, active look : he moves wdth a 
briskness refreshing to see in that land of loiter- 
ing, and always seems on business intent. The 
Arab, again, is all folds and twists. His dress has 
undoubtedly the more picturesque appearance. 
His loose flowing apparel of various colours, 
richly embroidered vest, jacket, and gay turban, 
attract the eyes far off : you watch him approach 



DILLY. 55 

with majestic carriage, until he is before you 
with his noble features, soft dark eyes, and 
curling locks. You find him much bejewelled, 
generally with paltry rings and chains, though 
the rich often possess very valuable ones. 

A heav)^ shower in the afternoon gave us 
the opportunity of seeing the natives use their 
primitive umbrella, a single leaf of lontar palm, 
which forms an excellent shelter. They rush 
along, crouching under the leaf as if they had 
plumes and satins to spoil. 

A lovely moonlight night succeeded, and being 
joined by the Da Franga family from the ship, 
we walked together to the outskirts to examine 
the elaborate tombs which stud the slopes round 
the town, erected within no defined graveyard, 
but on any spot chosen by the owners. 

This was our last evening together. Next 
forenoon we were at Dilly, their destination, the 
capital of Portuguese territory in the eastern 
half of the island. We parted with deep regret 
from our courteous and accomplished com- 
panions ; but with the hope that it will at some 
future time be possible to avail ourselves of 
their cordial invitation to visit Timor, his Ex- 
cellency having ofiered every aid in his power 
should H. wish to travel in the interior. 



56 DEPARTURE OF THE DA FRAN^AS. 

"Little Madame," as we call her, to distinguish 
her from her stately mother-in-law, and Made- 
moiselle Isabel have been my principal com- 
panions, but we have all been much together, 
and have so enjoyed our intercourse that it 
seems as if there could be no more pleasure in 
the rest of the voyage. 

They landed under a salute from the fort, 
with a great show of ceremony ; and after the 
governor had received the keys of office in the 
church, we joined them at lunch and saw them 
installed in their new home. The palace has 
an imposing enough aspect from the bay, but on 
a nearer approach it is seen to be rather dilapi- 
dated, and I grieve for their sakes to learn that 
Dilly is most unhealthy. The supreme evil of 
the town is that it is built on a low morass, 
causing incessant fever, which robs the inhabi- 
tants of all energy, and explains at once the 
rather miserable aspect of this compared with 
other towns of similar size. 

Quantities of large red-painted cases were dis- 
charged from our vessel and piled on the shore 
here, as at every other port we had called at. 
These contain bottles filled with a coarse fiery gin, 
which is used greatly in barter with the natives 
by traders, and is only too eagerly accepted. 



57 



CHAPTER V. 

BANDA — FIRE MOUNTAIN ARAB SCHOOL NUTMEG WOODS 

LIFE ON SHIPBOARD CLOTHING FOR THE EAST BAY OP 

AMBOINA. 

eth May. 

There had been much talk during the voyage of 
the islands of Banda, the chief nutmeg-garden 
of the world, and we were naturally curious to 
see them for ourselves. 

Banda is the most lovely spot we have yet 
visited. Coming on deck early, we found our- 
selves approaching a dense and brilliant vegeta- 
tion, in strong contrast to the bare spurs of 
Timor, which we had left a few days before. 
Steaming in through a narrow winding en- 
trance, which seemed after giving us passage 
to glide together, we found ourselves in a deep- 
blue inland lake. But only apparently. The 
Banda group is composed of four small islands, 
three of which form this secure harbour. Three 
of the four are covered over almost their entire 



58 BANDA — GDNUNG API. 

surface with nutmeg-trees. As though to form 
an offset to this luxuriance and fertility, towers 
the terrible fire-mountain Gunung Api, which 
reeks eternally from its shapely cone, like a 
fierce guardian of these gardens of Paradise. 
A sulphureous smoke ever rises from its bare 
and scarred summit, but its base and flanks 
are green with trees, amid whose shade a white 
dwelling here and there peeps out, heedless of 
the internal fires that blister the smouldering 
cone. How strange it was to lean on the ship s 
rail, and gaze down into the tranquil harbour, 
whose waters are so transparent that living 
corals, and even the minutest objects, are 
plainly seen on the volcanic sand at a depth of 
seven or eight fathoms ; then to lift the eyes to 
the smoking mountain, and picture the terrible 
tumult in the fiery caverns within ! 

Passing from the shore, along which runs a 
row of clean -looking whitewashed houses, the 
steep shady path to the left leads to the 
gardens; keeping to the right, you ascend to 
the town. Following one street and then 
another, having on each side Arab, Chinese, 
and Malay shops, where all necessities, such as 
food, clothing, and coffins, are displayed for 
purchase, you emerge on a green level bordered 



BAND A. 59 

by some good houses and a church. On the 
sward is the village well, where there seems 
always to be a group of busy washers ; and in 
the centre is a large school, where every edu- 
cational advantage may be enjoyed, so that 
European residents need not, as formerly, send 
their children to distant parts to be educated. 
On its left rises the battlemented fort built 
by the Portuguese, but now flying the Dutch 
ensign, from the top of which a magnificent 
view is to be had of the surrounding islands 
and out over the boundless sea. Sitting on 
the topmost of a long flight of steps, we looked 
down on the Banda isles, so small in their vast 
setting, — on the volcano, from whose crest the 
vapour -cloud had temporarily lifted, leaving 
the whole symmetrical outline clearly defined, 
— on the reposeful town, heedless of the terrible 
devastation which has overwhelmed, and at any 
moment may again overwhelm it from the over- 
shadowing fire-mountain, — on the land-locked 
bay, bathed in sunlight and gently ruflled by 
the breeze, which floated out the flags on the 
shipping, — and down on the old fort, which 
tells how the spice -gardens of Insulinde were 
valued in other centuries. 

We called each day of our stay at Bin Saleh's, 



60 BIN SALEH'S — NUTMEG WOODS. 

an Arab, whose cases of paradise and other gay 
birds' skins from New Guinea and other islands 
of the archipelago, ready for despatch to the 
Paris markets, were a great attraction. He in- 
vited us into his inner room, where he showed 
us a small bunch of tortoise-shell, for which he 
said he could readily get £50 in Singapore. In 
his back-court is an Arab school, and I was 
allowed to look in on the company of little 
fellows, who were squatted round their teacher, 
and whose sing-song, simultaneous repetition of 
their lesson resounded through the neighbour- 
hood. 

Starting with the sun one morning, we climbed 
the slope to the left by a path overhung with 
gracefully bending bamboos and overgrown with 
lycopods, which leads into the nutmeg woods. 
The nutmeg -trees are rather sparsely planted, 
and form a thin grove under a canopy of tall 
kanarie - trees, which interlace high overhead. 
The paths through the woods are as wide as a 
carriage-way, and well made. Tired of the ship, 
we wandered on for miles, till we came to one 
of the plantation houses, a small village of build- 
ings, where men, women, and children were em- 
ployed preparing the nuts and mace for export. 
Neither of these products is at all like what we 



. NUTMEG WOODS. 61 

see at home, the rich colours being quite lost in 
drying. Now and then we met a gatherer, a 
picturesque object in his bright clothing among 
the green foliage. With a pole jointed like a 
fishing-rod he nips the stalk of the ripe nuts 
by two claw-like prongs with which the tip of 
his rod is armed, when they drop into a little 
basket-like cage worked to the stem some inches 
below. We stopped him to look at his creel 
full of the ripe fruit. The shining chestnut- 
brown nut, broidered with the deep scarlet 
mace, nestles in the half- open pale yellow 
shell, and is indeed a thing of beauty. The 
nutmeg is the favourite food of the large 
pigeons we heard booming their note in the 
quiet woods. These pigeons are frequently 
seen tame about homesteads, and are very 
pretty creatures. They are rather larger than 
a guinea-fowl, but not so large as a pea-hen, 
while the shape is quite that of a pigeon. The 
plumage is a deep slate grey, with a tinge 
towards bluish-purple, and a tuft of fine deli- 
cate feathers gives it its name of crown pigeon. 
By the shore, just on the wharf, are the 
depots from which the fruits and mace are 
despatched, with wood-yards where the packing- 
cases are made. The cases are all of one size. 



62 VOYAGE TO AMBOINA. 

and are carefully finished and caulked. The 
produce of the nutmeg -tree forms as cleanly 
an article of cargo as could be wished. A box 
measuring about three feet by two by one con- 
tains £20 worth of nutmegs, and such a box 
will hold from £30 to £40 worth of mace. 

We are now steaming straight for Amboina, 
where this stage of our journey to the Tenimber 
Islands ends. I am now quite familiar with the 
manner of life on shipboard. I take full advan- 
tage of the privilege, denied to ladies on English 
vessels, of appearing on deck before certain 
hours. Here all come up with daylight, all 
equally in negligi costume, to enjoy the fresh- 
ness of the morning wind. Cofi^ee is oflfered 
as soon as one appears on deck. Breakfast, 
with cold meat and eggs, is on the saloon table 
for several hours after 7, and one descends to 
partake or has it brought on deck at will. 
About 10, soup with toast is offered, or if the 
day is intensely hot, some liqueur with eflfer- 
vescent water. About 12, the advent of a stand 
with gin and bitters, vermuth and sherry, an- 
nounces that lunch will be served in half an 
hour, and it is the habit of most Dutch gentle- 
men to whet the appetite with the first of these, 
while vermuth is taken by the ladies as a tonic. 



ON SHIPBOARD. 63 

Lunch consists of the "rice table/' such as I 
described when writing from Batavia; then 
about 3, when people begin to rise from the 
sofas on deck, and emerge from cabins after 
the siesta, tea is ready. When the afternoon 
heat has sufficiently passed to make it possible, 
all go down to dress in European attire. When 
we return to deck, the beautiful sunset hour 
has come with a cool breeze, and it is customary 
to walk to and fro on the deck till the liqueur- 
stand reminds us that we must soon go down 
to dine. After dinner at 7.30, the European 
dress is quickly discarded, and all seek retired 
nooks on the dimly lighted deck to enjoy the 
evening wind. You can have no idea of the 
lassitude felt at the close of a day on shipboard 
in the tropics. One gets very disinclined for 
exercise towards the end of a protracted voyage, 
and it becomes more and more difficult to occupy 
one's self in any way. I sometimes wish I had 
not promised to take you with me in my travels I 
I forget if I told you that children of both 
sexes play all day in a sort of very loose " com- 
bination," of striped calico generally, their sole 
garment, — for not even shoes and stockings do 
they wear. But one cannot grudge them the 
comfort of this simple costume : think how 



64 CLOTHING FOR THE TROPICS. 

quickly it is put on, how readily changed, how 
easily washed. A Dutch lady on board tells me 
that when a journey is contemplated, friends 
and neighbours lend linen both for personal 
and for household use for some time before 
departure, and so the traveller has the advan- 
tage of starting w^th everything clean. 

I have learnt that any kind of clothing con- 
taining dye is objectionable, and also that for 
us, who are constantly travelling, quantities of 
linen clothing are a nuisance. It accumulates 
in the cabin for one thing, and when one comes 
to port and gives it out to be hastily washed, 
the destruction of all finer things is heart-break- 
ing, while every button is sacrificed. Besides, 
the starch used is either sour or gets so in the 
moist climate, and the clothes have a most un- 
pleasant odour if shut up for any time in a box. 
It seems to me that clothing of pure undyed 
wool is most suitable. If you contemplate 
travel in the tropics, I should recommend you 
to study Dr Jaeger's 'Woollen System.' I 
should also recommend you to try to get a good 
native or, better, Chinese maid. A European 
would be of no use, besides that there is no 
proper accommodation either in hotels or on 
steamers for white servants. 



BAY OF AMBOINA. 65 

May 7th. 

We are now steaming intx) the Bay of Am- 
boina; the scenery is very beautiful, but I am 
too anxious to speak of that at present. We 
go straight to visit the Resident on landing, 
and hope for a kind reception. A Resident is, 
as it were, a sub-governor, but in this remote 
part — nearly a month by mail from the capital 
of the archipelago — he is practically an autocrat, 
and our success really now depends upon his 
goodwill. But why should we fear ? We have 
every reason to expect his co-operation, and 
indeed every right, for H. bears the warmest 
recommendations from the Government. Be- 
sides, the Dutch are proverbially hospitable ; 
and H. has enjoyed such kindness during all 
his travels, that we may look for a continuance 
of it now. 



66 



CHAPTER VI. 

AMBOINA — A CRUSHING DISAPPOINTMENT THE CAPTAIN OF 

THE CHINESE PASO A PEACE CELEBRATION AMB0INE8E 

CHRISTIANS. 

Amboina, I2th May. 

Suppose you were to undertake a long journey 
with some special and laudable object, and were 
furnished with hearty recommendations to the 
lord of the place of your destination, who alone 
could further your work; suppose yourself 
landed there, and seated with high hope in 
the gentleman's presence, talking of all sorts 
of subjects, hearing of the capabilities of the 
land and of his excellent opportunities of ac- 
quainting himself therewith, while he shows 
you the treasures he has collected. You have 
presented your introductions, you expect that 
in time conversation will turn to your errand, 
and that the aid you looked for will be readily 
volunteered. 

But supposing it is not, what would you do ? 



A CRUSHING DISAPPOINTMENT. 67 

You would in due time take your leave, with a 
dazed feeling somewhat as if you had been 
forcibly ejected; after a little you would pro- 
bably come to yourself and say, ** What shall I 
do ? I can only go home. I shall go mean- 
while to some hotel and enjoy a good dinner, 
and to-morrow morning I shall take the first 
train back." But suppose there were no hotel, 
and no way of getting back? You read my 
parable ? If I had had good news, I should not 
have held it back so long. This is to break to 
you that we have had a crushing disappointment 
in Amboina, and I should be heartily glad to 
shake its dust from my feet. But that is not 
easy on an island. 

There is no hotel in Amboina, chance travellers 
being so very rare that there is no inducement 
to maintain one. Any new arrivals are oflicials 
ordered here, who take the place of the one who 
has left, and step into his house, or receive the 
hospitality of some other until they can arrange 
their own home. It was about mid-day when we 
called on the Kesident of Amboina, and during 
that long walk back from the Kesidency to 
the ship it is impossible to describe our feel- 
ings. Neither of us dared look the other in the 
face. But where were we going ? To the ship ? 



68 A CHURLISH RESIDENT. 

It would soon sail. Where was the baggage to 
be housed, where were we to sleep that night ? 
The subject had to be faced. H. proposed that 
we should camp in a field, or by the road-side. 
Fresh from European ways, I stoutly objected. 
One does not mind setting up a tent on a savage 
shore, but in a civilised town like Amboina I 
simply could not bear the idea. I proposed 
calling at some respectable house, stating our 
position, and asking to be boarded. H. objected 
that it was most unlikely that any one would 
believe us ; if the Kesident had given us the cold 
shoulder, they would conclude there was good 
reason to do the same ; he could not face another 
rebuflF.^ 

The steamer, fortunately, did not sail till the 
morrow, and we remained on it that night. 
Towards evening, next day, it was suggested to us 
to apply to the Captain of the Chinese, and to his 
house we immediately repaired. He welcomed us 
cordially, and asked us to be seated with him in 
the verandah. He at once ofi'ered the use of a 

* Since I would rather not again refer to this unpleasant subject, 
I shall here remark that the conduct of the Resident of Amboina 
was utterly repudiated by the Dutch Government in Java. When 
we returned, strangers addressed us, and apologised in the name 
of their countrymen for the blot upon their cherished fame as a 
hospitable people. 



THE CAPTAIN OF THE CHINESE. 69 

house of his own, just built, and sent one of his 
sons along with H., that he might see if it would 
suit. I could only speak very little Malay, not 
sufficient to keep up a conversation, but it turned 
out that the Chinese gentleman spoke a very little 
English. " Take house one monce, two monce, 
tree monce," he said, as he swayed gently to and 
fro in his rocking-chair. You would expect that 
from me in my rocking-chair would come the 
response, " Thanks ; you are very kind." It was 
excusable : my feelings had been so pent up all 
the time, and H. was gone. I covered my face 
with my hands and wept. A gentle voice close to 
me, conveying in its tones a world of sympathy, 
said, " You got fazer ? you got mozer ? you got 
home?" The good old gentleman knew I was 
home-sick. I must ever feel kindly towards his 
race for his sake. 

Our friend made the house habitable for us, 
and I am now writing und^r its roof. It would 
be a delightful house if furnished ; it looks rather 
empty as it is. But, since we are here only till 
we decide on some course of action, it is useless 
to think of buying furniture. 

The authorities in Batavia expected that the 
Government boat would be leaving Amboina for 
the Tenimber Islands about the time of our 



70 START FOR THE INTERIOR. 

arrival, and by it we have the privilege to travel. 
The Resident returned from that cruise only four 
days before we came. Just lately, a tri-monthly 
steamer has commenced to run to New Guinea, 
and touches at the Tenimber group. It is due on 
the 18th of June, and we have decided mean- 
while to go into the interior of Amboina for 
some weeks. By the aid of our kind friend, the 
Chinese gentleman, we procured an old man to 
act as cook, and another boy, Jacobus or Kobez : 
on their tender mercies we are cast. My ignor- 
ance of Eastern ways and of Malay prevents my 
taking any but a very submissive part in our im- 
promptu manage. Two hunters to shoot birds 
and collect butterflies are engaged, and we start 
early to-morrow. 

Paso, Ibth May, 
This village is only a few hours by prahu from 
Amboina. We started early on a breathless 
morning, and thought we should surely see the 
marine garden, of which another traveller says, 
" No description can do justice to its surpassing 
beauty and interest : for once, the reality ex- 
ceeded the most glowing accounts I had ever 
read of the wonders of the coral sea." But ere 
we got out from the shore a breeze sprang up, 
causing a ripple which quite hid the bottom, 



ARRIVAL AT PASO. 71 

lessening, however, the heat, as the sun rose in 
its strength. 

About noon we were thankful to sail close under 
the shade of the foliage on the shore. You 
must remember that this was my first experience 
oflf the beaten track. Till now I had been in 
highly civilised surroundings ; and although in 
many cases they have been quite novel, all bore 
the trace of European influence. But here was 
only the forest, and the quiet shore, and the 
native at his daily avocation, quite unconscious 
that the small boat passing held beneath its 
slight awning eyes more curious than usual. 

On arrival at Paso we found the Kajah (the 
chief of the village, an oflicial appointed by 
Government, without any territorial possession) 
preparing to leave for a week, to attend a native 
festival. But he has kindly oflfered us a room 
in his house — a bamboo erection, very neat and 
clean. The whole village is in a bustle. The 
feast is to celebrate the continuance for two 
hundred years of amicable relations between 
this chiefs line and another. The Rajah's 
entire household, except the old and infirm, 
and about three hundred villagers, set off, after 
no little shouting and hurrying to and fro, to 
the boats, the final start for which was made 



72 PASO — NATIVE CHRISTIANS. 

from the church door. The last thing done was 
to rake and tidy the space in front of the church, 
— " for if proper respect were not paid to Tuan 
Allah, perhaps some misfortune might befall 
one or other of the prahus." 

So we have the village pretty much to our- 
selves, and there is at most times a stillness like 
that of a Scotch Sabbath. Sounds suggest it as 
well as silence. The few remaining at home at- 
tend church diligently, and singing like that of 
a country kirk is frequently heard. It seems 
they observe Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday 
as holidays : Thursday because Christ died on 
that day, Saturday as a day of preparation, and 
Sunday as we do. Thursday is observed almost 
as rigorously as Sunday. No boisterous play or 
shouting is permitted, nor, until after service, 
the daily avocations. But this devotion is 
purely ceremonial ; their life is not influenced 
by the moral precepts of Christianity, and they 
have no intelligent comprehension of its tenor. 
" Christians " are inveterately lazy, and think 
themselves too much the equals of the Europeans 
whose religion they have adopted to serve them. 
Their change of religion has done much for them 
in many ways as a community, but they have 
benefited little individually. Intoxication, for- 



NATIVE CHRISTIANS. 73 

bidden in the Mohammedan faith, is too frequent, 
and they are altogether less reliable than their 
Islamite brethren. 

Service is conducted in Malay, and is a copy 
of the Dutch form of worship, singing, prayer, 
and sermon following each other. The native 
clergyman wears a very old and ill-fitting dress- 
suit, with white tie; and all the congregation, 
men and women, wear black, the sign that they 
are Sirani or '* Nazarenes." 

It is several centuries since the Portuguese 
brought Christian influences amongst these 
Malays through the teaching of the Romish 
Church, and in Paso there is the ruin of a stately 
edifice in use in the time of Lusitania's power, 
but now greatly out of keeping with the bamboo 
erections surrounding it. It is now roofless, 
except for the arches of a magnificent tree which 
takes root in the centre of the building, and 
whose foliage overshadows the massive walls 
and depends in graceful tracery over the shapely 
windows. 

Paso is situated at the apex of a well-rounded 
bay, measuring about eight miles, and encircled 
by richly wooded slopes, behind which moun- 
tains tower. There is a sort of method in the 
laying out of the village, and easy paths cross 



74 VIEW FROM PASO. 

its length and breadth. One straight before our 
door leads to the beach, our favourite walk. 
Through the long hot day, as. we sit at work in 
the verandah, we can see the ever-varying colours 
on the lovely baj^ and far beyond the island 
of Haruka, the stillness broken only by the 
monotonous plash of the gentle waves on the 
shore. 

But this is too near a centre of life to be of 
much use as a hunting-ground, and we are 
anxious to get on to Waai. 



75 



CHAPTER VII. 

PASO THE RETURN OP THE RAJAH OBSTACLES TO TRAVEL- 
LING TENGAH-TENQAH BREAD-FRUIT VILLAGE OF WAAI 

SAGO MAKING PROVISIONS THE CENSUS PEOPLE OF 

WAAI NATURAL TREASURES FOREST EXCURSIONS 

TROPICAL FLOWERS. 

Waai, 30th May, 

We are quite surprised to find ourselves here, 
we had such difficulty in getting away. The 
Kajah of Paso came back with his company on 
the sixth day, all looking inexpressibly jaded 
after their prolonged bout of feasting, drinking, 
dancing, and broken repose. On such occasions 
the true spirit of the native comes out, and in 
their revels they are still truly aboriginal. But 
on Sunday a large congregation, sobered and 
clothed and in their right mind, gathered to 
oflfer thanksgiving for preservation from danger 
during the feast. 

Their return with noise and shouting seemed 
an intrusion on the quiet we had enjoyed, but 



7 b GREED AND LAZINESS. 

we had had great difficulty in getting on in the 
absence of the Eajah. For three days we had 
been tr)dng to get away to Waai, but no one 
would agree to row us. The people are so in- 
veterately lazy that they would much rather do 
without the wage than earn it. One man might 
have had his disinclination overcome had we felt 
inclined to accede to his modest demand of forty 
rupees, £3, 6s., for rowing us to Tengah-tengah, 
three hours distant. As half a rupee, or lOd., 
to each rower, and 5s. for the boat, is the proper 
fare, you will see that our friend has missed his 
proper vocation, — he was evidently destined for 
a London " cabby." 

We required an extra box to pack things which 
we had collected in Paso. After much talking, 
a man brought an old shabby trunk, so worm- 
eaten that it would have fallen to pieces with a 
kick. For this article, worth about sixpence, he 
asked only six rupees. We did without it. 

We were all ready to start on the morning 
before we really got oflf. Every box was locked 
and at the door, when the men who had arranged 
to take us refused to go unless they had double 
pay. After spending the whole day in vain at- 
tempts to arrange the matter or get another boat, 
we were told at night that a prahu would return 



TENGAH-TENGAH. 77 

to Waai next morning at 5 a.m., having come 
to Paso with merchandise that evening. At that 
hour, accordingly, we were in waiting, only to 
discover that it was the very prahu in which we 
should have gone the previous morning : the men 
had come round, but covered their submission 
with this story about its being from Waai. So 
much for their veracity. 

We had to wait two hours on the beach till 
the crew had finally mustered ; but once fairly 
away, we soon forgot all the vexations of the few 
previous days in the delight of coasting thus 
leisurely a tropical shore. 

At Tengah-tengah our rowers refused to go 
further, saying the strong tide had so fatigued 
them that they could not take us all the way. 
So we paid them the full fare, at their demand, 
in order to save time, and proceeded to ask the 
Rajah to order another boat out for us. 

The appearance of the Mohammedan village of 
Tengah-tengah and the manners of the inhabi- 
tants ai*e marvellously different from those of 
the Christian villages of Paso and Waai. Though 
the people are poor, and much less advanced in 
civilised ways, they are courteous and unassum- 
ing. Their sole wealth is the bread-fruit tree, 
which lines each terrace, the village being built 



78 BREAD-FRUIT. 

on a sharp slope. The harvest of the bread- 
fruit was not yet ready ; but as Mr Wallace's 
account had made us curious to see it, one 
specimen very nearly ripe was discovered and 
climbed up for. "It is generally about the size 
of a melon, a little fibrous towards the centre, 
but everywhere else quite smooth and puddingy, 
something in consistence between yeast -dum- 
pling and batter-pudding. We sometimes made 
curry or stew of it, or fried it in slices ; but it is 
no way so good as simply baked. It may be 
eaten sweet or savoury ; with meat and gravy it 
is a vegetable superior to any I know, either in 
temperate or tropical countries. With sugar, 
milk, butter, or treacle, it is a delicious pudding, 
having a very slight but characteristic flavour, 
which, like that of good bread and potatoes, one 
never gets tired of" Probably ours was badly 
cooked, or perhaps was not ripe enough. I 
think it suggests vegetable marrow. 

We scarcely understood the Tengah-tengah 
people : they speak the old language of the 
country, quite different from the Amboinese 
Mala)'', and they wear the sarong and head- 
cloth, discarded as derogatory by the Christian- 
ised Amboinese. Curious vagaries are played 
with the hair of the little boys. The head is 



ARRIVAL AT WAAl. 79 

shaved, except a straight tuft, which is allowed 
to grow. That of one little fellow seemed spe- 
cially designed to annoy him ; it was just long 
enough to touch his nose, and appeared constantly 
to be either tickling that member or getting into 
his eyes. 

Having after some delay obtained a boat and 
rowers, we started for Waai. When at length, 
in the middle of the afternoon, we arrived oppo- 
site our destination, the whole place seemed as 
if laid under some enchanter's spell, — not one 
sign of life was to be seen or heard. We almost 
felt guilty of desecration as we stole towards 
the sleep-bound village, and reached the house of 
the Rajah, who presently appeared in full sleep- 
ing costume, evidently bewildered at the un- 
wonted apparition of two white strangers in his 
verandah. I longed to say, *' How are you, Mr 
Rip Van Winkle ? " Having explained the object 
of our visit, we came to terms with him for an 
unoccupied house, a stone erection, a short dis- 
tance from his own dwelling. We have plenty 
of room, but a bamboo-pile hut is much prefer- 
able to an occasionally opened stone building. 
The soft sand floor is damp, and lacks an air of 
cleanliness. 

The village of Waai is laid out in squares, 



80 VILLAGE OF WAAI. 

divided by perfectly straight streets. The gar- 
dens open into these streets, which are lined with 
overarching trees, and margined by ditches edged 
with pink crocus-like plants. The credit of this 
is in a measure due to the efforts of the people, 
but luxuriant nature does much. With hand-to- 
hand work and sympathetic treatment, Waai 
might be a garden of romance. I like to be 
astir early, to meet the inhabitants wending 
under the grand avenues towards the stream : 
with the intermingling colours of the garments 
of the loitering water-carriers and the soft lights, 
the scene is somewhat Italian-like. 

The stream comes fresh from the mountains, 
cool and sparkling, and is met in the village by 
a shallow pond, above which water for domestic 
use is taken, and in w^hich the villagers bathe 
and wash. In the centre of the pond is an 
enclosure with house attached. This is the 
Kaj all's bathing-place, and its use is permitted 
to us — a delightful luxury. 

In the pond the children disport themselves 
like fishes ; mites who can just run can swim 
and enjoy the fun like the others. The elders 
make the bath more of a business, and I must 
say I have considerable respect for their cleanli- 
ness. They use a stone in lieu of soap, carefully 



THE CHURCH. 81 

choosing a particular kind from the smooth 
pebbles on the edge ; and when they have indus- 
triously bathed, they dip the finger in the silvery 
sand, and with it polish the teeth ! 
. 'Tliere is a large church in Waai, quite out of 
proportion in size and grandeur to the popula- 
tion and intellectual elevation of the place. We 
came on it by chance one Sunday morning, and 
were so amused and interested that we did not 
notice the congregation gathering. Then we 
hurried away, for beside the decent company we 
felt ashamed of our travel-stained and un-Sunday- 
like garments. The area of the church is set 
with cane-bottomed chairs instead of fixed pews. 
On one side, raised a few feet above the floor, is 
a suite of seats reserved for the Kajah's use, 
canopied, carved, and richly gilded, with his coat 
of arms emblazoned in front. The pulpit is also 
much carved and gilded, and the church alto- 
gether is tastefully fitted, and is abundantly 
lighted with petroleum lamps. The services are 
conducted in High Malay by a European mis- 
sionary (he is absent at present on a tour to 
distant stations), and in his absence by the 
native schoolmaster, who with moderate regu- 
larity instructs the children five days a-week. 
Amboinese Rajahs keep no state, and wear no 

F 



82 WAAI— COSTUMES. 

special dress, except on Sundays. To-day we 
had the honour of seeing the potentate of Waai 
proceed to church in state. He was attired in 
black trousers — which, being rather short, dis- 
played a length of white cotton stocking — black 
"swallow-tail" coat, made for a stouter and 
taller individual than himself, probably his 
father, and a beaver hat, tall and narrow, of an 
ancient pattern, while over his head a youth 
carried his gilded state umbrella. The whole 
population attended the service, all of them in 
black calico attire. 

This black dress is a relic of Portuguese influ- 
ence. The Rajah of Paso informs us that the 
garments pass from one generation to another, 
being worn only on Sundays and holidays. 
The freshness is renewed at will by dipping in a 
dye of their own making, after which the 
garment is hung in the breeze and repeatedly 
brushed one way to bring on the pretty gloss. 

Some women wear a beaded belt, and we learn 
that these are wives of burghers — i,e,, men who 
do no forced labour. A soldier who has served 
a long term is made a burgher, and his wife 
wears a beaded belt. Wives of non-burghers 
wear combs, which mark their position. The 
women's dress, you must remember, is in the 



COSTUMES — CBILDREN. 8 3 

form of sarong and kabia. The men have ill- 
shapen trousers coming to the ankle, and the 
loose kabia jacket, all of the same black 
material. Those in mourning are distinguished 
by a long kabia, which must be very uncomfort- 
able in walking, since it trips up the wearer at 
every step. For nearest relations mourning is 
worn a year, and six months for those more dis- 
tantly connected. The women of the Rajah's 
household are an exception to the wearing of 
black on special occasions ; and they must wear 
diamond ear-rings, a gold comb, and shoes. 

I am distressed by the appearance of the 
children in all these parts. A healthy-looking 
child is a rare sight, nearly all being afflicted 
with an unnatural distension of the stomach, 
caused by the almost unvaried diet of sago, 
eaten without any further cooking than the 
baking which moulds it into cakes. The arms 
and legs are miserably thin, every rib shows 
clearly, and there is often a sad expression along 
with this unhealthy state. And yet the men 
are strong and sinewy enough. 

Sago as they use it would be unrecognisable 
to you. The first time I saw it was as we rowed 
up the bay of Amboina : the men were eating 
hard rust-coloured cakes, which seemed to me 



84 WAAI — SAGO-MAKING. 

made of sawdust. And such they in a sense 
are. Unlike rice or barley, sago is not the fruit 
of a tiny stem, — it is the pith of the trunk of a 
great tree. The tree is felled, the pith — a soft 
fibrous wood — is scraped out, then it is beaten 
fine, and laid in a trough with water to steep. 
The water passes through a sieve into another 
trough, carrying with it the starch in the wood, 
and this settles at the bottom. The sediment is 
sago in its first stage — a fine powder, which is at 
once packed into cylinder-like cases for export. 
The neighbouring island of Ceram supplies most 
of the surrounding islands with their daily 
bread, and while we were at Paso boats fre- 
quently landed laden with this product. 

In these cylinders the sago forms into a caked 
mass. To bake it, it is broken up and dried, 
when it becomes a fine flour ; this is placed in a 
heated mould with some five or six divisions, 
and from these the baked cakes are turned out. 
When hot they are soft and very sweet ; when 
cold they become hard, and are in this con- 
dition the daily food of the natives. 

Dried in the sun the cakes will keep for years. 
We mean to take a store of them to Timor-laut ; 
indeed our men could ill subsist without them — 
they are accustomed to them all their lives, and 



TAPIOCA — FISH. 85 

prefer them to rice. Soaked and boiled, the 
cakes make a delicious pudding : we have it 
daily, sweetened with the coarse native sugar 
and eaten with cocoa-nut milk. These combined 
have a flavour I would not give for the most 
delicate pudding you could oflfer me. Sago loses 
greatly in taking the form of the article of com- 
merce, just as exceedingly refined sugar or flour 
loses the special flavour of its rougher state. 

Although little used by the natives, tapioca is 
also abundant here. We cannot perceive any 
resemblance even in flavour to the delicate 
article familiar at home tables. Tapioca, again, 
is a root of oblong shape, and about twice the 
size of a very large potato. We use it as a 
vegetable, cut in pieces and boiled, and thus 
treated it is not bad. 

The variety of fish is surprising. All sizes 
and shapes abound ; the Rajah declares that he 
does not exaggerate in stating that 800 different 
kinds come into their nets. A celebrated Dutch 
specialist has given a catalogue of 780 species 
found in Amboina, a number almost equal to 
those of all the seas and rivers of Europe. Our 
choice ranges from the size of minnows to that 
of huge cod, and the quality is excellent. 

Fowls are abundant also ; but as they live 



86 POWLS— CUSCUS. 

simply on what they can pick up, they are 
generally rather meagre. Broods in every stage 
of development range in the gardens and by the 
roadsides. I believe the owner never gives them 
a thought till they are of marketable size. There 
are no cows here, but the natives need not lack 
flesh ; there are the wild pig, the deer, and the 
cuscus. This last is a curious creature the size 
of a hare, but as different as may be in habit 
and action from that agile quadruped. ,The 
cuscus seems to be ever sleeping, and lives cling- 
ing to the stems and branches of trees, feeding 
solely on the leaves. We have two young ones, 
which I carefully feed and tend, and which 
interest me greatly. They grasp their food 
between the two fore paws, and eat — I was going 
to say like squirrels, but there is nothing frisky 
or vivacious in their movements ; they munch 
with great gravity, staring pathetically the while 
from their bright eyes. My pets do not seem to 
thrive ; they suffer from being out of their 
element probably. The young are brought up 
as kangaroos are, in the mother's pouch. 

Fruits and vegetables abound ; with a judicious 
use of the various kinds of food at command, the 
natives need not suffer from the painful-looking 
sores and eruptions which disfigure such a large 



THE PEOPLE OF WAAI. 87 

proportion of them. To tend a wound does not 
seem to occur to them : they walk with it bare, 
and exposed to accidental knocks and scratches 
in the forest, as well as to the irritation of flies 
and ants, and the same sore often remains un- 
healed for years. 

One cannot restrain a little mild indignation 
against the Waai people. Their naturally beauti- 
ful village could be so beautified; abundance, 
even wealth, is pressed upon them by the lux- 
uriant productiveness of nature ; and yet all 
they care for is to be allowed to vegetate. No 
energy, no aspiration, ever disturbs them. As I 
have said, civilising influences have not really 
raised their moral status ; they have become 
more independent — not, however, for their own 
good. I fancy it is beneficial for such a people 
to be under an autocratic ruler. The Kajah tells 
us his authority is now a mere name. He was 
once called to attend a conference at Amboina. 
The men who rowed him "struck" half-way, 
and turned the boat homewards. They were 
arrested, and sentenced to eight days' imprison- 
ment, after which they came back with such a 
tale of the good time they had had — feeding 
well without any labour or cost, and playing 
cards all day with pleasant companions — that 



88 THE PEOPLE OF WAAl. 

more harm than good was eflfected by the pun- 
ishment. 

That they are not sensitive in conscience, we 
find to our cost. Their end in life at present is 
to obtain all they can out of us ; and in pursu- 
ance of this aim they beset our door with all 
sorts of things for sale — insects, birds, plants, 
food, &c. — which they offer at prices that are a 
constant source of amusement to us. A meagre 
chicken is off'ered for Is. 8d., while the highest 
price that would be given in the Amboina mar- 
ket would be one-third of this. For a fair-sized 
fish a rupee and a-half is complacently asked, 
though the vendor takes 60 cents, and knows 
he has had a fair bargain. We met a woman by 
the shore bringing a basketful of tapioca roots 
from the gardens, and we tried to bargain for 
some, but thought her price of 25 cents each 
rather exorbitant. Next day we were offered at 
our own door four for 10 cents. 

And the guile of those children ! They 
walk boldly up to us in the verandah with 
a bright flower, which has dropped from some 
tree, stuck upon a twig pulled from a hedge — 
" Fifty cents, master. Very rare ; never seen 
before!" 

Another follows with a butterfly whose wings 



YOUNG IMPOSTORS. 89 

are all bruised and broken, and a beetle muti- 
lated beyond having any further value. 

H. "I do not care for any which are not 
perfect." 

"But, master, this is the kind of the insects 
in Waai. There are many such here, I assure 

you." 

H. often gives a trifle for worthless specimens, 
that they may not be discouraged from seeking, 
and perchance finding something rare. When a 
little fellow has made up his mind to a certain 
sum and receives less, you should see the disdain 
with which he flings down the coin ; and, if it 
were worth picking up, we might find the flower 
or insect on the path, thrown down by him as he 
walks off" laughing contemptuously. 

I am beginning to enter into the joys of a 
naturalist, and have grown quite learned in long 
names of birds and insects, and can help H. in 
labelling and arranging. The later hours of every 
afternoon are looked forward to by both of us as 
the most pleasant of the day, when the hunters' 
spoils are displayed for our admiration. The 
gay parrots and beautiful kingfishers, the curious 
maleos, whose terra-cotta eggs are a table luxury, 
and those wonderfully plumaged pigeons, give 
us special delight. Strolling along the bay, on 



90 FOREST EXCURSIONS. 

whose beach the east wind has been throwing 
a wealth of sponges, hydroids, and shells, we 
spend many hours examining them and watch- 
ing the fields of shore-crabs, with their richly 
coloured pincer limbs, and the curious fishes 
which come up out of the water and hop along 
the shore in their odd way. 

When H. goes with the men to the forest, I 
accompany as far as I ain able. Several shallow 
rivulets find their outlet round Waai, and there 
is no way of reaching the surrounding country 
except by crossing some one of them. When 
we start, I am carried through the streams by 
Lopez if there are no stepping-stones. But these 
boulders, thrown in by the natives, and easily 
grasped by their unbooted feet, are simply a 
snare to us ; we invariably slip off them into the 
water. The rest of the walk is then taken with- 
out any regard to boots and stockings, and on 
my return alone I splash quite unconcernedly 
through the streams. 

Sometimes the forest path leads through a deep 
glade under high-arching trees, where the under- 
growths are lit up by rich blossom or gorgeous 
tree-fruit ; sometimes through stretches of open 
field, from which we can look out on the pleasing 
scenery of the environs. I find H.'s warning, not 



TROPICAL FLOWERS. 91 

to expect a wonderful profusion of fine flowers 
in the tropics, not to have been needless. Speak- 
ing of Sumatra, he says : " This [the flower] is 
just one of the products of the Garden of the 
Sun that the traveller fails to see, unless he 
search very well and very closely. The vegeta- 
tion at the lower elevations leaves the impres- 
sion of a tangled heterogeneous mass of foliage 
of every shape and shade, mingled together in 
such unutterable confusion that not one single 
plant stands out in anything like its own indi- 
viduality in his mind. The great forest -trees 
are too high for him to be able to see whether 
they bear either fruit or flowers. It is only on 
rare occasions — and then the sight repays him 
for many a weary mile — that he alights on a 
grand specimen whose top is ablaze with crimson 
or gold ; more generally he knows that some 
high tree is performing its functions by seeing 
broken petals or fallen fruit spread over yards 
^f the ground. Hours and hours, sometimes 
days even, I have traversed a forest -bounded 
road without seeing a blossom gay enough to 
attract admiration. A vast amount of tropical 
vegetation has small, inconspicuous flowers, of 
a more or less green colour, so that when they 
do occur the eye fails to detect them readily. 



92 TROPICAL FLOWERS. 

The fresh green, the rich pink, and even scarlet, 
of the opening leaves are beautiful beyond de- 
scription, and the autumn-tinted foliage never 
ceases through all the seasons ; but I had little 
idea as I rounded the cape of Gibraltar, leaving 
to the north of me purple hills of heather, scarlet 
fields of poppies, and rich parterres starred with 
cistus and orchids, with anemones and geran- 
iums, and sweet with aromatic shrubs and herbs, 
that I should encounter nothing half so rich or 
bright amid all the profusion of the summer of 
the world." 

Even the flowers cultivated in gardens do not 
yield the pleasure of a bouquet at home. They 
are either scentless, or scent so heavily that they 
are sickening. They fade quickly when gathered ; 
but they are really scarcely suitable for an orna- 
ment in a room, — they need their own setting of 
ample greenery to tone their gorgeousness. 



93 



CHAPTER VIII. 

WAAI THE RAINS THE RAJAH NATIVE SKIFFS FISH 

" HAZES " AQUEOUS LIFE DANGEROUS CURRENTS. 

1st June. 

Rain has commenced in earnest, and we take 
rather ill with the restraint of staying indoors. 
The roof leaks badly, and there is scarcely a dry 
yard under the verandah. Two of the men have 
had fever, and have added to the dismal aspect 
of things by constant moaning and groaning. 
Pedros is kept in good humour with an occasional 
glass of gin. He does his clumsy best to fill the 
place of our cook, and waits on the sick, but we 
shall be glad to return to our normal ways. 
Pedros is a very good fellow, besides being an 
excellent bird-skinner. We are anxious that he 
should go with us to Timor-laut, but he cannot 
make up his mind to part from his family. He 
is rather fond of gin, but never gets intoxicated. 
To-day he was picking some seeds, the contact 



94 HARUKA — CERAM. 

with which caused an irritating tickling on the 
hands. To allay this we poured some gin over 
them. What dismay overspread his countenance 
to see the precious potion thus wasted 1 When 
he was called and saw the bottle, he evidently 
thought he was to be oflFered a drink as compen- 
sation for the discomfort he was suflFering. All 
he could do was to lick his hands ! 

Sometimes it clears about sundown, when we 
hasten out, generally to the shore, where we 
need not brush through dripping foliage. One 
evening a scene of rare beauty gave us an hour 
of deep delight. Waai is situated on a wide bay, 
facing the island of Haruka. The lofty peaks of 
Ceram shut in the view to the left, to the right 
is the narrow outlet to the sea beyond, and 
numerous foliage-clad islands stud the enclosed 
expanse, which, but for the outlet between Haruka 
and the mainland, might be a small inland sea. 
We stood on the shore at ebb-tide, in front of a 
background of lofty trees of richest green which 
belted the shore for miles, the dusky figures of 
the natives in their gay clothing relieving the 
scene as they wend their way homeward bearing 
their burdens, or stand fishing on the water's 
edge. The peaks of Ceram rise grand and grey, 
Haruka shows intense dark-blue, the opening is 



VIEW FROM WAAL 95 

just catching the crimson of the sunset, the 
motionless glittering sea is reflecting the golden 
sheen ; piled masses of purple, and crimson, and 
pink, and soft grey, and pure white cloud are 
banked up even to the enclosing vault of the 
blue heaven, where a few stars peep through, 
" candles to the pale moon " that shows occasion- 
ally between the shifting clouds. It seemed but 
a minute ere the descent of a mountain blast 
changed the scene to a grey, stormy aspect, — the 
sea rises in ripples, the tall cocoa-palms fring- 
ing the shore sway in the breeze, and the whole 
forest moans in the disturbance. While we yet 
stand admiring, this phase of beauty gives way 
to the placid moonlight. During the short 
struggle day has died; night takes its place, 
dominated by the full moon, whose light shim- 
mers on the now smooth sea and sheds its 
rays over the whole prospect. Which is the 
lovelier, — the rich glory of the Eastern sunset 
or the soft intensity of its moonlight ? We 
turn away, compensated for many discomforts 
of travel and pangs of home-sickness. 

The Rajah is a quiet unobtrusive man, and 
during our stay we have seen little of him. Yes- 
terday, however, we had more of his company 
than we cared for. There has been for some 



96 THE RAJAH OF WAAL 

time a dearth of alcohol in Waai, and on the 
arrival of fresh supplies he has evidently been 
making up for previous privation. He came 
about eight in the morning, inspired with a 
valiant desire to go to the chase, and begged the 
loan of a gun and some powder and shot. But 
he had indulged so deeply that the intoxicant 
had made him purposeless, and it was hours 
before he rose to go. H. sent one of our men 
in his rear to see that he did not by mistake 
shoot himself, or some of his equally incapable 
companions, and we were relieved when towards 
evening they all came back safe. The chief 
stumbled to a chair, from which he did not man- 
age to rise for hours, prating on with thick utter- 
ance till we were heartily tired. How changed 
from his sober hours ! 

Natives sail round the coast, and even to the 
adjacent islands, in tiny skiflfs, scooped from a 
log, which they have under such control that 
they are in perfect safety. Some are fitted with 
outriggers, which make capsizing impossible, but 
they prefer them without this incumbrance, for 
on coming in, riding on the crest of a wave, the 
rower picks up his boat and marches ofi" with it 
on his shoulders. The usual size is just wide 
enough to seat one, and about five feet in length. 



FISHING ''MAZES." 97 

One evening when the sea was perfectly calm, 
we hailed a man who was approaching the shore 
to take us out to some fishing " mazes." These 
mazes consist of lines of close bamboo palisades, 
which terminate in deep water in a circular 
well, where fish that have entered during high 
tide are enclosed and captured, escape being 
prevented by the ebb. On these palisades a 
species of water-bird, of which H. was anxious 
to get a specimen, settles every evening. There 
is always, even in calmest seas, a slight surf on 
the shore, and there is no time to lose if you 
will catch a boat when it comes in on a wave 
before it recedes again. There was just room 
for us both ; the rower had to perch himself at 
the stern, where he propelled the boat with a 
single oar. It was not a very comfortable sail, 
but we were thoroughly compensated. The 
narrow skiff cuts the water without dimming 
the surface by ripples, the oar disturbs only the 
water behind, and in a calm sea the wonders of 
the sea-gardens can be seen to perfection. I 
was fairly excited with delight. I too could 
say that " the reality exceeded the most glowing 
accounts I had ever read of the wonders of a 
coral sea." Such wondrous forms of aqueous 
life, sprays and spikes, clusters and wreaths of 

G 



98 AQUEOUS LIFE, 

coral, I had never formed any conception of. 
Brilliant blue and red sponges and aesthetic- 
coloured jelly-fish took the place of flowers in 
the nooks of the chasms and sides of the hillocks 
of the uneven surface of the marine gardens ; 
while fishes, banded, spotted, and streaked with 
brightest hues, darted out and in from their 
hiding-places. We found that our boatman was 
a diver, and he went below for anything which 
caught our fancy, amusing us greatly as he 
swam about seeking at our direction the coral 
or fish we wanted, and came puffing with it to 
the surface. Although the native makes no 
scruple of jumping into the sea to pick up his 
boat, and wades through a swollen river without 
a thought, all seem to shrink from rain. In the 
rainy season the clothesless children go to fetch 
water under a large leaf, which opens exactly 
as does a sheet of note-paper, and under this 
same sort of covering the grown people carry 
their wares. Some have a hat of such dimen- 
sions, that it also serves the purpose of an um- 
brella; without some such protection no one 
stirs from the door. 

To-morrow we return to Amboina, if fine. 
The roads will soon be very difficult, and our 
house lets in rain, so that it is most uncomfort- 



A PROJECT ABANDONED. 99 

able. We must go by land to Paso, a march of 
fourteen miles. It would be much easier to go 
by sea, were the currents not dangerous owing 
to the state of the monsoon. We thought this 
was a shifting excuse, until we made an attempt 
to go to the island of Haruka, on the opposite 
side of the bay, when we had a narrow escape 
from being swamped. A strong breeze sud- 
denly sprang up, and when we got out into the 
open sea, our boat seemed a very plaything on 
the high waves which were running, and the 
men declared that it would become unmanage- 
able if we persisted in crossing. After the boat 
had twice been all but capsized, we had to 
abandon our project and return. 



100 



CHAPTER IX. 

DBPARTURB PROM WAAI THROUGH THE F0RB8T BRILLIANT 

COLOURS BACK TO PASO VOYAGE TO AMBOINA 

GAIETIES THE TOWN OF AMBOINA TRACES OP THE 

PORTUGUESE EVENING SCENES OUR CHINESE FRIEND 

MANGOSTEENS THE DURIAN WAITING FOR THE STEAMER 

TRASSI BN ROUTE FOR TIMOR-LAUT A RAJAH PILOT. 

Amboina, l2thJune. 

We really got away from Waai on the 9th. 
The previous evening the Rajah had been ear- 
nestly enjoined to have everything in readiness, 
and with the first streaks of dawn we were 
waiting to start. However, only thirteen of the 
eighteen men necessary to carry me and the 
baggage turned up, and before the five defaulters 
were routed out and the loads arranged in lots 
on the carrying-poles, the cool hours of the 
morning were gone, and the march was com- 
menced when it was already too hot for comfort. 
My palanquin was an old-fashioned, cumbrous 



THROUGH THE FOREST. 101 

affair, formerly used by the Rajah and his 
family. One-third of the size would have held 
me, and would have been less troublesome in the 
forest, where it was too wide for the paths, and 
caused the men great discomfort from stumbling 
against roots and twigs. When heavily laden, 
carriers proceed at a sharp trot, urging each 
other on with shouts and indulging in constant 
groans. Now and again, when there was shade, 
I came out and walked ; but though this was a 
pleasure to me, and a rest to H., who had not 
been on the march for many months, and found 
this rather trying, for he would keep a steadying 
hand on the palanquin, it was a great hindrance 
to our progress. 

On we pressed, sometimes through a sparse 
wood of the white -barked cajeput-tree, by a 
pleasant grass-grown road, sometimes through 
stretches of alang-alang grass, terribly trying 
to the men, for the feet must be lifted as if 
wading through waves, and it reflects cruelly 
the fierce heat of the sun, while the sharp blades 
cut their legs. Sometimes we could see the 
distant hills and the surrounding fine scenery; 
again our path lay through the arbour-like shade 
of the overarching forest, and we were shut in 
to the beauty of giant stems and profuse en- 



102 TROPICAL SCENERY. 

tangled foliage. Twice we had to cross rivers, 
and frequently descended into rocky gorges 
where the rivulets were swollen into torrents, 
and down the clayey descent to which it was 
almost impossible for the men to keep a footing. 
One would go suddenly on his back, causing a 
lurch to the palanquin, which would almost send 
me flying out. I should greatly have preferred 
walking, but it was evident that it would be 
impossible for me to keep my feet in the slimy 
mud. So I lay flat down and tried to think I 
was having a luxurious time, while I watched 
the beautiful ferns and mosses in the rocky 
ledges, and enjoyed to the full the comparative 
cool of the damp atmosphere in the deep shade, 
before we should again emerge into the strong 
heat of the blazing sun. 

I do not wish to be ever raving about the 
wondrous beauty of tropical scenery. I would 
not rouse in you any discontent with our "ain 
countrie." The tempered softness of these sweet 
June evenings you are now enjoying, that har- 
monious blending of richest colours which I can 
recall in a moorland scene in autumn, are as 
perfectly satisfying as any picture I could por- 
tray. But when we emerged from the deep 
forest shade, the prospect before us of the bright- 



ARRIVAL AT PASO. 103 

ness of the bay at noonday struck me as freshly 
as if I had for the first time looked upon that 
peculiar brilliancy of colouring which only a 
vertical sun can lend. Was ever sea so blue ? — 
did ever waves display a purer emerald in their 
graceful curl, or crown themselves with crests 
so white ? — was ever outline of hills so clear, or 
foliage so graceful as that of the shadowy palms 
we halted under ? 

While the carriers rested, our men fetched 
some cocoa-nuts, and we all together enjoyed 
the cooling draught and lunched ofi" the blanc- 
mange-like pulp. When we reached the Eajah's 
house at Paso it was exactly noon. Thus we had 
been four hours in covering fourteen miles, — not 
a bad record, since the men were heavily laden, 
and crossing rivers and descending into torrent- 
beds required cautious walking. Lopez had 
been sent on to get a boat in readiness, for we 
had heard that the tide was high in Amboina 
harbour at 3 p.m., and congratulated ourselves 
that we should get on after an hour or two of 
rest in a shady room. Vain expectation ! The 
Rajah was from home, and no one knew of a 
boat large enough for us and our baggage. 
After hours of fruitless efibrt, the Rajah returned, 
and at once peremptorily ordered out a boat. 



104 AMBOINA. 

shouting as if thus alone he could enforce his 
command, — he assured us apologetically that it 
was indeed so. The sun went down, rain com- 
menced to fall heavily, and after securing our- 
selves and the baggage as well as possible from 
the drenching torrent, we got away at 8 p.m. 
It has taken days to dry the contents of the 
cases, many of the birds being hopelessly spoiled. 
We were as wet as if we had come to Amboina 
swimming at the stem of the boat. It was a 
very unsafe ** dug-out," with no outriggers; and 
though worn out from the long fatiguing day, 
we dared not beguile a part of the way in sleep, 
for fear of capsizing it by an unguarded move- 
ment. Luckily the sea was as smooth as glass, 
and we kept ourselves awake watching the 
trickling rain dropping in phosphorescent sparks 
on the water, and the luminous zigzag path of 
the frightened fishes darting from below our 
keel, while in concert with this brilliant aqueous 
illumination the torches of the fishermen blazed 
on the banks. Arriving about midnight, we 
were perplexed to find the door of our old 
quarters unopened. One of the men had gone 
on by road to cook supper and make all needful 
preparations; but instead of food and light, 
only silence and darkness awaited us. The man 



A DEMONSTRATION. 105 

had gone among his friends, and forgotten all 
about us. At last the key was obtained by 
rousing our kind old Chinaman, and we at 
length got under cover. The little furniture 
that was in the house had been removed during 
our absence of a month ; but we found a boat- 
sail in a comer of one of the rooms, which, 
spread on the stone floor, had to serve that night 
for a resting-place. 

We found Amboina in the bustle of preparing 
for a demonstration in honour of the visit of a 
member of the Council of Netherlands India. 
Floral arches, gracefully draped with palm-leaves 
and tastefully festooned with flowers, decorate 
the streets, which are illuminated at night. Even 
the poorest house in the native quarter has a 
dammar light flaring on a pedestal of the stem 
of the sago-palm stripped of its sheath. 

All the surrounding rajahs are required to be 
present in the town, with a certain number of 
followers. At Waai there was daily practice of 
a dance to be performed on the great occasion, 
at which I was a frequent onlooker. It was an 
old war-dance, with some slight semblance of 
savage wildness and vehemence. The elder per- 
formers seemed to feel rather ashamed of their 
grotesque dress, but the lads were by no means 



106 A WAR DANCE. 

averse to the gay colours and profuse ornaments 
they wore. Gold lace, quantities of gilt paper, 
and red and blue streamers, with their bright 
sarongs and plumed hats, gave them a really pic- 
turesque appearance ; and when they capered in 
the dance, brandishing their harmless spears and 
beating on their needless shields, with leaps and 
yells simulating the wildest excitement, the im- 
agination was not greatly strained to picture the 
old reality. Surely every fowl in the neighbour- 
hood must have been sacrificed to provide feather 
decorations for their hats, shields, and spears. 
Each performer had attached to his person some 
half-dozen lace -trimmed pocket-handkerchiefs, 
incongruous belongings of the occupants of bam- 
boo huts, which were not used to wipe the 
streaming perspiration, but were merely part of 
their trappings. 

We had no part in the gaieties consequent on 
this visit ; but it yielded us an enjoyment of its 
kind, which quite outweighed any feelings of 
bitterness at our exclusion. Social pariahs, we 
looked on from the skirt of the crowd, and in 
watching their amusements, their manner of 
enjoying them, and their expression while thus 
engaged, we got an insight into the native char- 
acter not to be had from any other standpoint. 



AMBOINA. 107 

Amboina is one of the most salubrious of 
towns. It is situated on a long, river-like arm 
of the sea, and commands a fine prospect over 
the water to the mountains beyond, while it is 
encircled by verdure-clad slopes, to which shady, 
arbour-like roads lead from the centre of the 
town. Along the shore are stores, factories, and 
the dwellings of the trading portion of the com- 
munity. Between this quarter and the pleasant 
environ where the European dwellings stand, is 
a stretch of greensward, the parade-ground of 
the troops and the promenade of Europeans, for 
whose pleasure the military band discourses 
music twice a-week. To the left of the sward is 
the fort, enclosed within which are the post- 
office and Government offices. To the right is a 
club, where the ' Illustrated London News,' the 
' Graphic,' and other high-class periodicals lie for 
perusal. The most elegant mansions in the 
town belong not to Europeans, but to Chinese 
and Arabs, who have every scope for exercising 
their powers as money amassers, for Amboina 
has been more or less a centre of European occu- 
pation for some 350 years. When the Dutch 
took the rule in these parts from the Portuguese, 
they made Amboina the clove -garden of the 
Moluccas ; but although there has now been 



108 PORTUGUESE TRACES. 

communication with the Dutch for 250 years, 
the Portuguese element predominates in the old 
Christian population. This nation had a won- 
derful power of impressing its national charac- 
teristics on the peoples it subjected. Traces of 
its influence are yet indicated in habits and 
words — nyora (signora), lengo (handkerchief), 
cadeira (chair), and many domestic terms, being 
plainly Portuguese. Although the Amboinese 
now profess the Protestant faith, at feasts and 
on gay occasions they preserve the processions 
and music of the Catholic Church, curiously 
mingled with the gongs and dances of the 
aborigines. 

The weather is simply delightful. Every day 
it gets more and more into the rainy season, but 
not sufficiently yet to cause discomfort. Even 
at mid-day a fresh breeze blows, and at evening 
one might call the climate temperate. After the 
hottest hour we are ready to set out, and have 
already become familiar with the town and its 
outskirts. We frequently meet the stream of 
Mohammedans gathering for evening worship at 
the mosque. The wealthy Arab comes along 
with measured tread, his ablutions already per- 
formed, and fresh in his flowing white robes : 
his poorer brethren come rushing up, press in 



SCENES IN AMBOINA. 109 

among their fellows at the bath, and hurry with 
a hop, skip, and jump to join their fellow-wor- 
shippers in the holy place, adjusting by the way 
the clean sarong or pushing the arms into the 
jacket. How we have enjoyed gazing into the 
lamplit churches, into shops and dwellings, and, 
most of all, loitering in the market-place. This 
spot is exceedingly picturesque. The booths 
form a square, in whose centre a great tree 
spreads its giant arms. A lamp flares at every 
stall ; and standing back in the shade — the only 
Europeans in the jostling crowd — we have found 
it an unfailing source of interest to listen to the 
bargaining that goes on, and to read the native 
mind from the expression on the faces of buyer 
and seller. In the dark street, lit by the bright 
stoves of street- vendors roasting Indian com and 
other favourite food of the natives, we hear from 
an open window the monotonous drawl of many 
voices repeating simultaneously the Koran; while 
from another proceeds the excited merriment of 
gamblers. The Chinese have an elegant joss- 
house, which has recently been constantly illum- 
inated to celebrate the birthday of one of their 
gods. He is a funny-looking little image, who 
dwells among a number of lady and baby gods 
in the middle case of three which fill one end of 



no OUR CHINESE FRIEND. 

the building. We were told with pride that he 
is "hundreds of years old." Before the case in 
which he is kept are piles of food, an offering 
to him. The worshippers feast in an apartment 
behind, where groaning tables are spread for 
them. They sit smoking and talking in the 
sacred edifice as if they were out visiting. 

Occasionally we pay a visit to our old friend 
the Chinese gentleman, and enjoy pleasant and 
instructive chats on all subjects. He showed us 
a bundle of tortoise-shell — thirteen pieces in all, 
unpolished and produced from a homely calico 
bag — which he says is worth a thousand rupees. 
Such a possession, it seems, is an indication of 
prosperity and a guarantee of luck. This good 
gentleman is the owner of much property in 
Amboina : he is the chief baker, and keeps a 
number of cows for the supply of milk to 
Europeans. 

It is now the season of the mangosteen. I 
had heard much of this fruit before coming to 
the East, and my expectation was on very 
tiptoe from reading one traveller's opinion that 
*'this beautiful fruit is the epitome of all gas- 
tronomic delights, meeting in subtlest harmony 
upon the palate, a fragrant fleeting poem ; " and 
that, "if there were more of this fruit on the 



THE MANGOSTEEN'. Ill 

earth, there would be need for neither churches 
nor jails, for there would be no sin/' Now this 
is scarcely fair to stay-at-home people. You 
have really its equivalent in a luscious peach, 
in a fine ripe jargonelle pear, or in a strawberry 
at its best ; and if you can imagine a combina- 
tion of these three, you have an idea of how the 
mangosteen itself tastes. It is considered to be 
the most delicious of tropical fruits, and simply 
as a product of nature it is very beautiful to 
look upon. It is as large a^ a medium-sized or 
rather small apple, of the same shape, and of 
a dusky plum colour. The rind is nearly half 
an inch in thickness; gently press it and it 
opens, disclosing the pure white fruit lying in a 
fleshy fibrous -streaked bed of rose -pink. The 
pulp, a juicy mouthful, is sweet, and melts 
away in the mouth, leaving a single stone. 

We have also just now the durian, of which 
Mr Wallace says that it is worth a voyage to the 
East to taste it, giving it the place of honour as 
the king of fruits, with the orange for queen. 
Although I have an unmixed respect for all this 
traveller says — he portrays with such absolute 
fidelity — I cannot indorse this statement. But 
we are not in a position to judge from his 
standpoint: we did not meet with it fresh 



112 THE DURIAN. 

fallen in the forest, where its strong odour could 
not overpower, and in circumstances in which 
most gastronomic comforts are necessarily denied. 
Perhaps in his place I also should be inclined to 
say that " it is unsurpassed as a food of the most 
exquisite flavour." 

This fruit is not allowed a place at table in 
hotels or civilised households. It has an odour 
which I can only describe as the quintessence 
of onions, but this is concentrated in the rind. 
If broken open at some distance from the house, 
the contents may be eaten without nausea ; and 
with some claret or a little brandy over it, the 
custard-like pulp is certainly delicious. I have 
never seen the tree, but learn that the durian 
"grows on a large lofty forest-tree, somewhat 
resembling an elm.'' The fruit may be com- 
pared to a cocoa-nut with the outer husk : it is 
almost of the same shape, perhaps less oval, and 
it is very spiny. 

The durian is like no other fruit from which I 
could offer a comparison : it contains no juice, it 
is not sweet, it is not acid; it is a food more 
than a refreshment. One contains enough to 
afford a very satisfactory lunch, and in the pro- 
cess of discussing the custard -coloured pulp, 
which has the consistency of an ice-cream, you 



WAITING FOR THE STEAMER. 113 

find some seeds as large as chestnuts. We 
went into the courtyard, where we had in- 
structed Kobez to break one open, to examine 
the rind, and despite the odour I could not 
refrain from drawing my finger over the lovely 
lining of the cells in which the pulp had been 
embedded, to discover if it felt as satiny as it 
looked. 

28th June. 

We are still in Amboina, in hourly expectation 
of the steamer. It is already ten days overdue, 
and we must perforce endure the discomfort of 
living with our boxes packed, sure that it must 
come to-morrow. We shall doubtless be able to 
laugh over this period when we recall it in after 
years, but at present it is very trying to be thus 
losing time. Nearly two months ago we were 
thus far towards the goal of our journey; our 
men are idle, and our funds are melting away. 
We dare not go a day's journey, or even a few 
hours from the house, lest the vessel should 
come in the meantime; we have no definite 
occupation, and cannot help fretting. One great 
pleasure we have. The steamer of the 13th 
brought to Amboina an old friend of H.'s in 
Sumatra, Dr Julius Machik, who, posted to 
the charge of the military hospital, has come 

H 



114 TRASSr, 

• 

with his family to reside here. We were one 
day sitting in our comfortless dwelling, en- 
grossed in writing, when a hearty voice hailed 
us from the window; and now our pleasant 
intercourse with the Machiks brings an element 
of regret into our heartfelt longing to be off. 
They are in a temporary dwelling until the 
large house they have chosen on the plain is 
ready for occupation. But this has not hin- 
dered their hospitality, and daily comes a 
humorous invitation, generally in the form of 
a prescription, to join them at some meal. 

We have engaged Kobez to continue with us 
as cook, and Lopez and Carl go as hunters and 
bird-skinners. These last are excellent men. 
Kobez is not a great acquisition ; but, as you 
may suppose, a good domestic readily finds a 
good situation, and would not undertake the 
makeshifts of life on a savage island. Kobez 
is very anxious to take a store of trassi, 

*' What is trassi f Hear how H. details his 
first acquaintance with it, while in Java, shortly 
after his arrival in the East. "A vile odour 
which permeates the air within a wide area of 
the market-place proceeds from a compound 
sold in round black balls, called trassi. My 
acquaintance with it was among my earliest ex- 



TRA8SL 115 

periences of housekeeping at Genteng. Having 
got up rather late one Sunday morning — an 
opportunity taken by one of my boys to go 
unknown to me to the market, which I had 
not then visited — I was discomfited by the 
terrific and unwonted odour of decomposition. 
' My birds have begun to stink ! ' I exclaimed 
to myself. Hastily fetching down the box in 
which they were stored, I minutely examined 
and sniffed over every skin, giving myself in 
the process inflammation of the nostrils and 
eyes for a week after, from the amount of 
arsenical soap I inhaled; but all of them 
seemed in perfect condition. In the neigh- 
bouring jungle, though I diligently searched 
half the morning, I could find no dead carcase, 
and nothing in the 'kitchen-midden,' where 
somehow I seemed nearer the source; but at 
last in the kitchen itself I ran it to ground 
in a compact parcel done up in a banana 
leaf. 

" *What on the face of creation is this ? ' I said 
to the cook, touching it gingerly. 

** ' Oh ! master, that is trassiJ 

" ' Trassi ? Whatever is trassi ? ' 

*' ' Good for eating, master — in stew.' 

'* * Have / been eating it ? ' 



IIG TRASSI. 

'* * Certainly, master ; it is most excellent {enak 
sekali).' 

" ' You fool ! Do you wish to poison me and 
to die yourself? ' 

** * May I have a goitre (daik gondok), master, 
but it is excellent ! ' he asseverated, taking hold 
of the foreskin of his throat, by the same token 
that a countryman at home would swear, 'As 
svre's death!' 

" Notwithstanding these vehement assurances, 
I made it disappear in the depths of the jungle, 
to the horror of the boy, who looked wistfully 
after it, and would have fetched it back, had I 
not threatened him with the direst penalties if 
I discovered any such putridity in my house 
again. I had then to learn that in every dish, 
native or European, that I had eaten since my 
arrival in the East, this Extract of Decomposi- 
tion was mixed as a spice, and it would have 
been diflScult to convince myself that I would 
come by -and -by knowingly to eat it daily 
without the slightest abhorrence. Dampier, 
who mentions it in his ' Voyage,' seems to have 
formed his acquaintance with it in a more phil- 
osophic spirit, for he describes it in these terms : 
— ' As a composition of a strong savour, yet a 
very delightsome dish to the natives. To make 



VOYAGE TO TIMOR-LAUT. 117 

it they throw a mixture of shrimps and small 
fish into a sort of weak pickle made with salt 
and water, and put into a tight earthen vessel. 
The pickle being thus weak, it keeps not the 
fish firm and hard, neither is it probably so 
designed, for the fish are never gutted. There- 
fore in a short time they turn all to a mash in 
the vessel ; and when they have lain thus a 
good while, so that the fish is reduced to pulp, 
they then draw off" the liquor into fresh jars 
and preserve it for use. The masht fish that 
remains behind is called trassi. Tis rank 
scented ; yet the taste is not altogether un- 
pleasant, but rather savoury after one is a little 
used to it.'" 

7th July, en route for Timor-laut. 

We are at last on our way, with all our 
belongings and our three men. We were 
nearly off* with only two, Kobez almost manag- 
ing to give us the slip. He came on board with 
us, and was most attentive until everything 
was in order ; then he must have run away and 
hid amongst his friends. The two others went 
to seek him, and put some half-dozen native 
policemen on his track. Hearing of the pursuit, 
he came on board about 3 a.m., looking very 
innocent, and saying he was waiting on shore 



118 A NATURAL PILOT. 

till the moon rose to let him see to join the ship. 
There was bright moonlight at 10 the previous 
evening. 

There is one European passenger on board 
besides ourselves, a Dutch gentleman, inspector 
of native schools, who, from the wide knowledge 
thus gained of the people and their customs, is 
a most interesting companion. The pilot is a 
remarkable character. There is no chart of 
these seas for the ship's course, and since this 
old man has sailed them from his boyhood, and 
is perfectly at home in this quarter of the archi- 
pelago, he is quite an important personage. We 
hear that he was banished from the island where 
he was Rajah for heading an insurrection. 



119 



CHAPTER X. 

By ROUTE FOR TIMOR-LAUT GESSIR ATTOL — THB MARKET AT 

GE8SIR MACLUBR BAY THE FIRST WHITE WOMAN IN 

NEW GUINEA A NEW GUINEAN VILLAGE PAPUAN 

WOMEN CROWDED AN ALBINO RIVAL KB ISLANDERS 

THE ARU ISLES DOBBO PEARLS THE RAJAH OF ARU 

WASHING DAY APPROACH TO TIMOR HER ISLANDS. 

At sea, en route for Timor-laut, 9th July. 

In the early evening of 6th July, we slowly 
wound out of the harbour of Banda, leaning on 
the rails to watch to the last the lovely verdure 
of this mid-ocean speck. Turning from that 
prospect, I found that the sea wore the peculiar 
aspect which only three times in many months 
of sailing I have witnessed. The water seemed 
as if oil, sweeping in long, crestless, gently 
undulating waves, while every colour in the 
brilliant sunset sky was reflected with kaleido- 
scopic intermingling in the gliding mirror. Any- 
thing more soothing than to sit quietly and 



120 GESSIR ATTOL. 

watch the by-floating of such waves I cannot 
imagine. 

Next morning we were up with the light to 
see the curious peaks of the east of Ceram, 
which slope down towards the many tiny islands 
of which Gessir — our next point of call — ^is the 
most important and interesting. The forenoon 
was intensely hot, and we could only keep under 
the awning, looking out on the pleasing prospect 
and the beautiful sea, which wore the loveliest 
of greenish-blue hues. But during the afternoon 
a breeze, almost cold, made it possible to go on 
shore and see for ourselves this marvellous little 
island fair. Gessir is a mere horse-shoe-shaped, 
cocoanut-fringed coral attol, once one of the 
most dreaded nests and secure hiding-places of 
pirates in these seas, but now one of the busiest 
and most curious marts in the extreme East, 
crowded with the representatives and the handi- 
work of every race in the archipelago. 

It is the rendezvous of the paradise and other 
bird-skin collectors from the mainland of New 
Guinea, from Salwatty, Mysore, and Halmaheira, 
and of the pearl-divers of Am ; hither the tripang, 
tortoise-shell, bee's-wax, nutmegs, dammar, and 
other rich produce from a multitude of islands 
are brought to be exchanged with the Malay 



THE MART AT GESSIR. 121 

and Chinese traders of Macassar, Singapore, and 
Ternate — for the scarlet, blue, and white cottons 
and calicoes of the Dutch and English looms, for 
the yellow-handled hoop-iron knives, which form 
the universal small change of these regions, and 
for beads, glass balls, knobs of amber, old keys, 
scraps of iron, and worthless but gaudy Brum- 
magem manufactures. At certain seasons it is 
quite a rich zoological garden. Here may often 
be seen in captivity birds of paradise of species 
never yet seen alive anywhere else out of their 
own lands, parrots, lories, cockatoos, crowned 
pigeons, cassowaries, tree-kangaroos, and other 
animals which have managed to survive a journey 
thus far, but rarely farther west. 

Leaving the same evening, on the 8th we 
steamed up the inlet which almost cuts off the 
head of New Guinea, save for a narrow neck of 
about five miles, between high lands on either 
shore, under which a procession of curiously 
shaped, abrupt -sided inlets ran as far as we 
sailed. The natural features of Macluer Bay are 
perhaps the most striking of any I have yet 
witnessed. 

We lay about three miles off from the village, 
from which cargo was to be taken in, and as 
soon as we had anchored the natives crowded 



122 NEW GUINEA. 

round the vessel in their narrow prahus, trying 
to sell fruit, fish, birds, mats, &c., while the 
officers of the ship tried to exchange their cast- 
off garments for the curious bows and arrows 
of native manufacture, their weapons of war and 
the chase. It was most amusing to see the 
natives examining the old coats and trousers, 
holding them up to the light to find holes and 
stains : when the garment was very bad it was 
rejected in disgust. And to see the captious 
purchasers ! As if a few holes mattered ! 

About 4 P.M., while it was still intensely hot, 
making me very grateful for the shade of an im- 
mense blue umbrella which the old Rajah gal- 
lantly held over me, we went on shore, in one of 
the ship's boats, to make our first acquaintance 
with Papuans in their own land. We drew near 
to some rickety-looking dwellings, on a platform 
projecting about fifty yards into the sea, the 
supports of which were so slight, and the spars 
so open and fragile, that I should have thought 
a dovecot insecure thereon, and was only reas- 
sured when I reasoned that the pile of bags of 
wild nutmegs lying on the edge, ready to be 
transported to the ship, had been carried over it. 
The only staircase was three bamboo-sticks, very 
wide apart, and, moreover, so polished by naked 



MACLUER BAY. 123 

feet that with my boots I could obtain no hold. 
However, with a push from those in the boat, 
and a pull from H. above, I sprang up, and stood 
in a New Guinean village, their first white female 
visitor. 

We were met by the chief, a middle-aged man, 
of anything but regal appearance, who wore for 
the occasion a faded silk sarong and some rude 
jewellery — doubtless come by through the Arabs, 
who stood by watching the despatch of the nut- 
megs, to collect which they had passed months 
in this rude savage life. 

Greetings and salaams over, the Rajah's wife 
ran forward, and, a fold of her garment over 
each hand, took mine between, and dragged me, 
still running, into her dwelling. Here others 
joined us, and in similar fashion took my hand 
between their covered hands, which they then 
drew slowly over their faces, meanwhile bowing 
low. For a moment I was afraid, they pressed 
so close and were so excited ; but I could soon 
see that they meant only kindness. I took 
time to look round their dwelling, in which there 
was no attempt at furniture. A few rude ves- 
sels lay on the floor ; and some ashes in a corner 
showed that they made fire, and were thus far 
above the brute creation. 



124 THE PAPUANS. 

When they had duly examined me, I got out 
of the hut, and passed over the platform to the 
shore, taking care not to fall through the fre- 
quent holes; for though to a Papuan an acci- 
dental plunge into the sea is no disagreeable 
diversion, to me it would have been a serious 
discomfiture. Though the shore widens a little 
way to the left, and leads by gentle slopes to 
mountain heights, all that was between the plat- 
form and high perpendicular cliffs was a few 
yards of ledges of rock, covered by a thin soil. 
This seemed the village graveyard ; for all about 
were mounds, railed round with short stakes, 
while some were quite curtained in with red and 
white cloth. 

While we inquired about these mounds through 
the old pilot, the crowd had gathered, and I found 
myself so hedged in that I could not move farther. 
With a certain diflSdence, looking first to see if I 
would allow it, they gently pushed back my hat 
to look at my hair, drew back my sleeves, lifted 
my skirts, and laughed immoderately at my 
boots. Presently, with shrieks of excitement, 
the crowd parted, and, with no regard for her 
evident shyness, a tall albino woman was dragged 
forward by two others and shown to me as a sis- 
ter ! She was the only one who wore a white 



A PAPUAN ALBINO. 125 

garment (at least it had once been white), and 
was a marked contrast to the others, not only 
from her fair skin, but from her unusual height, 
and especially from her coiffure, which was quite 
remarkable. The hair was very fair, golden- 
tinged, and had the appearance of being care- 
fully dressed, though it was nature which laid 
those rows of soft curls so neatly on her head. 
Her skin was as ugly as her hair was pretty, 
being of a reddish-yellow hue, as if raw from the 
sun; and her teeth, quite blackened, and filed 
almost to the gums, gave her anything but a 
prepossessing look. 

I was glad when H. called to me that the boat 
could not longer wait, for the light would soon 
be gone. Turning, as I hastened away, to see 
the brilliant sunset, I was arrested, thinking for 
a moment that I looked on a black statue. Be- 
tween me and the light, the better to see us, a 
lad had climbed on to a high ledge, close against 
the luxurious overhanging foliage — all lit up 
from the dying glow — of the precipitous rock, 
and, wearing only a red loin-cloth on his shining 
dusky skin, stretched forward in eagerness, quite 
unconscious of his graceful poise. He formed a 
picture of savage beauty which flashed indelibly 
into my memory. 



126 ARABS IN NEW GUINEA. 

The crowd followed us to the boat, and shout- 
ed and waved in exuberant Papuan style as we 
sailed away ; while the Arabs, incongruous amid 
their surroundings — gay for the day in long 
white flowing robes, broidered vests, and bright- 
coloured turbans — stood on the very edge, wat€h- 
ing us as far as they could see us, with evident 
sadness that their short intercourse with the 
outer world had already ended. What a power- 
ful incentive is his religion to an Arab, that he 
can so separate himself from the amenities of 
civilisation, and dwell for years among such 
savages, gathering the products that will bring 
him the means of accomplishing that visit to 
the Sacred Tomb which will ensure his eternal 
happiness ! 

Next day we sought to call at two villages 
farther south ; but in the night a squall had 
come on, and during the whole day we had a 
strong breeze and driving rain. At the first vil- 
lage no boat attempted to come off; at the second 
some half-dozen tried to approach, but the waves 
made such sport with their frail skiffs that it was 
impossible to conduct any transfer. The rowers 
were mostly women, much tattooed on breasts 
and arms, who shrieked wildly, and in some cases 
even dropped their oars in terror, when our ship 



LITTLE k6 island. 127 

set off, and the turning of the screw added foam 
and spray to the already tempestuous sea. 

We were glad when, on the morning of the 
10th, we lay close into Little K^ Island — for we 
had both been quite sick and miserable in the 
rough weather. As usual, we were immediately 
boarded by the natives, and a repetition of the 
scene depicted by Mr Wallace with such abso- 
lute fidelity was enacted. I use his words, for 
I could not tell it better : " Had I been blind, I 
could have been certain that these islanders were 
not Malays. . . . These K^ men came up sing- 
ing and shouting, dipping their paddles deep in 
the water and throwing up clouds of spray ; as 
they approached nearer, they stood up in their 
canoes and increased their noise and gesticula- 
tions, and on coming alongside, without asking 
leave and without a moments hesitation, the 
greater part of them scrambled up on our deck, 
just as if they were come to take possession of a 
captured vessel. Then commenced a scene of in- 
describable confusion. These forty black, naked, 
mop-headed savages seemed intoxicated with joy 
and excitement. Not one of them could remain 
still for a moment. Every individual of our 
crew was in turn surrounded and examined, 
asked for tobacco or arrack, grinned at and de- 



128 LITTLE K^ 

serted for another. A few presents of tobacco 
made their eyes glisten ; they would express 
their satisfaction by grins and shouts, by roll- 
ing on deck, or by a headlong leap overboard. 
Schoolboys on an unexpected holiday, Irishmen 
at a fair, or midshipmen on shore, would give 
but a faint idea of the exuberant animal enjoy- 
ment of these people.*' One quiet old man stood 
over me in unpleasant proximity as I ate break- 
fast on deck ; he seemed fascinated by the para- 
phernalia of a civilised meal. 

Of our short visit to K6 there is not much to 
say. It is always interesting to us to learn the 
characteristics of the people, to see their homes 
and hear their speech. Numbers of the boats 
for which the K^ islands are famous were moored 
on the white beach — boats which, though built 
without European tools, are as sound and close- 
fitting as any made in our best shipyards. The 
forests of K^ produce magnificent timber of vari- 
ous qualities, some of which are said to be supe- 
rior to the best Indian teak. To make each pair 
of planks used in the construction of the larger 
boats, an entire tree is consumed. The sand on 
the shore is the whitest I have ever seen. At 
mid-day, when we were on shore, it hurt the 
eyes so that we were glad to turn into the woods. 



ARU PEARL-FISHERS. 129 

where the path leads among trees of immense 
height, giving perfect shade. We were accom- 
panied by a number of men and boys, who evi- 
dently wished to make the most of their visitors. 
A post-holder had been established in K^ three 
months previous to our visit. He aided H. to 
purchase a native tombstone — a curious box 
which is set up on a pole, having the propor- 
tions and pretty much the appearance of a small 
dovecot. As we sailed out from among the low 
wooded islands, over which cloudlets of varied 
and fantastic shapes hovered in a soft-hued sun- 
set, the dark hills of Great K^ filling in the 
horizon, we thought that Little K^ had a beauty 
of its own. 

A night brought us to the Aru Islands ; but 
we had to lie some distance off while the officers 
went in a boat to find out how far we might 
venture, for we had almost stranded. While we 
waited boats drew near, oared by curious-looking 
crews, who, we learnt, were the pearl-divers of 
Aru. I took them at first for women — a mistake 
due to their arrangement of the hair ; for their 
immense mops of frizzy locks were gathered 
behind in a large chignon or knot, while the 
short escaped hair formed a fringe, the whole 
coiffure being an untidy copy of the fashion- 



130 ARU PEARL-FISHERS. 

able style I had left behind in England. They 
crowded on board as soon as possible, and would 
not be deterred from coming on our deck, from 
which we begged they might not be banished. 
They walked about, examining everything with 
the interest and ways of children, and specially 
honoured us by their close attention — a liberty 
we could not well resent, since we were equally 
busy discussing them from top to toe. Tall 
athletic fellows they were without exception, 
and almost negro black. Besides the loin ban- 
dage of scarlet calico, they had narrow bands 
of finely plaited straw — on which beads, small 
shells, and tiny teeth of animals were sewn — 
on shoulders, wrists, calves, and ankles. The 
most sickening odour pervaded the air, probably 
from some sort of grease or oil with which they 
smear their bodies. 

They lingered by the ship's side day and night 
during our stay. Their wide flat boats seem 
their homes, for a fire-place, some rude utensils 
for cooking, and sleeping-mats were to be seen 
in each ; while elaborate carvings decorated both 
ends, which were crowned with bunches of casso- 
wary feathers. The pearl-diver's most treasured 
possession is evidently his box containing siri- 
leaves, betel-nut, and chalk, of which materials 



DOBBO. 131 

he forms a ball to chew. A leaf is selected 
from a store, a piece of betel-nut is laid on it, 
and a sprinkling of chalk is added ; the whole 
is rolled together, and when masticated a bril- 
liant scarlet juice emanates, which is squirted all 
over with evident pleasure. The box is really 
beautifully carved, and contains a smoothly slid- 
ing drawer, with compartments for the different 
articles. They seemed always to be chewing; 
for every time I looked over the ship's rail they 
were engaged in preparing the prized morsel, 
and with a delight which recalled the satisfied 
air of an old gentleman using his snuff-mull. 

We went on shore early in the day, and found 
Dobbo a fair-sized village, wonderfully civilised- 
looking for this out-of-the-world corner. Chinese, 
Arabs, and Malays bustled in the chief street, 
where to almost half its breadth, in front of the 
shops, under great awnings of mattings, quan- 
tities of tripang or heche de Tner were being 
sewed into bags to ship with us; and piles of 
oyster-shells, in which the beautiful Aru pearls 
are found, were being arranged and counted 
for despatch to Europe. There they fetch a high 
price, and appear in our homes in the thousand 
forms of mother-of-pearl decorations which beau- 
tify our nick-nacks and adorn our persons. 



132 PEARLS. 

Although pearls from the Siilu Archipelago 
are the finest in the world, of the six or 
eight leading varieties of shells brought to 
Europe, those from Aru are the most valuable. 
A diver will collect from twenty to forty shells 
a-day, according to the state of the sea, and from 
130 to 150 tons are obtained annually from this 
locality. A single valve of the Aru shells weighs 
generally over a pound. 

We went into several of the tokos, hoping to 
see some pearls and birds of paradise. But 
traders from Macassar had been recently in 
Dobbo, and had bought up almost all that was 
worth having, both of pearls and birds. So of the 
latter there were only one or two specimens of 
the commonest species, and of the former only 
one of any size, whose beauty and exquisite pear- 
shape made me envious of possession; but I 
could have bought it cheaper in London. 

We walked about a mile and a half beyond 
the village to visit a personage who has taken 
to himself the title of Rajah of Aru. He was 
a sailor in his youth ; but is now in his old age 
settled in Aru with superabundant wealth for 
life, with which he indulges in ludicrous and un- 
comfortable imitations of civilised luxuries. His 
house, originally a mere bamboo erection, was 



THE RAJAH OF ARU. 133 

almost covered with pieces of boxes — conspicu- 
ously Huntley & Palmer's biscuit boxes, with the 
bright labels still attached. A few dirty tattered 
flags hung about ; and as we approached, some 
of the household bustled with preparation — 
spreading a gaudy cloth on the table, coloured 
covers on the chairs, and hanging pieces of red 
and blue cloth here and there, so that the ver- 
andah was quite gay when we sat down. Num- 
erous old rusty guns on primitive racks, and 
about a dozen pistols neatly arranged, orna- 
mented the walls of the interior, which con- 
tained a surprising collection of heterogeneous 
articles stowed in corners and piled on shelves. 

Being a Mohammedan, he had numerous wives, 
who with a number of children peeped from the 
doors of their apartments ; but only one of his 
wives, quite a girl, the mother of an infant 
which he nursed with evident pride and many 
caresses during the whole time we stayed, was 
brought forward and introduced to us. Shortly 
a Papuan slave, with her wild mop all unbound, 
brought us cafe noir, kneeling as she ofiered it ; 
but fond as I am of this beverage, and tired out 
as I was from the hot walk, I could not bring 
myself to drink from the dirty-looking cups, 
which were in keeping with the whole service. 



134 .AN OLD RAJAH. 

Towards evening, while we were still resting 
on deck, the sound of tom-toms and gongs at- 
tracted our attention, and looking over the sea 
we saw a large prahu, oared by thirty rowers, 
approaching, most gaily decorated with branches 
and flowers. In the centre, imder a great um- 
brella held by attendants, sat an old man, who 
shortly came on deck accompanied by four 
courtiers. I could not refrain from laughing 
aloud at the ludicrous appearance of the group 
before us, but was soon checked when I saw 
their really sorrowful countenances. It was the 
Rajah of some place in the neighbourhood ; his 
son had just been murdered, and seeing a great 
ship lying ofi*, he had come to ask if any redress 
could be obtained. The old chief wore bright 
green trousei:3, a long black coat, and over this 
a kabia or native jacket of bright purple satin, 
with inch-wide gold-thread stripes, and a very 
dirty and starchless collar lay untidily on his 
neck. Another had trousers of bright scarlet, 
with large butterfly pattern, a faded green silk 
coat brocaded with large gold flowers, and a 
shabby grey felt hat; and another a long sur- 
tout coat, with a much worn black satin vest, 
wrong side out, over it. Two others were not 
so abundantly clothed, for one suit served them 



WASHING-DAY. 135 

both. It had evidently descended to the present 
wearers from some passing vessel where theatri- 
cal entertainments had been whiling the tedium 
of a voyage, for the coat had a blue tail and a 
red, and the trousers one leg of green and the 
other of yellow. Somehow the man with the 
trousers looked much better clad than the 
man with the coat. These garments formed 
doubtless the entire wardrobe of the village, 
accumulated during who knows how many 
generations. 

A cool breeze prevailed during our stay at 
Aru, and on the afternoon of the second day a 
tropical downpour fell, giving us another oppor- 
tunity of witnessing what is always an amusing 
scene. The sailors take advantage of the occa- 
sion to enjoy a freshwater bath and wash their 
clothes. Perching ourselves on the roof of the 
cabin, as the driest spot available, but where a 
fine drizzle came through even double awnings, 
we watched the busy and delighted company as 
they made themselves a shower-bath by jump- 
ing up and seizing the edge of the awning, thus 
bringing down upon themselves a copious deluge 
of water. They lustily rub the garments they 
wear, thus at the same time cleansing both their 
bodies and their garments. AU drenched and 



136 APPROACHING TENIMBER. 

laughing, they then run off to put on dry 
clothing and hang up their washing. 

And now I must bid you adieu for some 
months. We are approaching the Tenimber 
Islands, and after parting from the vessel can 
have no communication with the outer world. 
In my next you shaU know how we fared dur- 
ing the three months we spend among a people 
whose reputation is not very favourable. 



137 



CHAPTER XL 

TENIMBER LARAT STRAITS RITABEL THE POST-HOLDER 

CHOOSING A SITE FOR A HOUSE BUILDING OUR NEW 

DWELLING— OUR TRADE — GOODS AT A DISCOUNT— OUR VISI- 
TORS A STATE OF WARFARE A PALAVER AT WAITIDAL 

ESCAPE. 

By daylight on the 12th we were sailing straight 
for the Tenimber or Timor-laut Islands, through 
a rough sea and a cold damp atmosphere. When 
the islands were first discovered, and the name 
Timor-laut or Tenimber first applied, is not 
known. Our first reliable information about 
them is derived from Captain Owen Stanley, 
who, in his ' Visits to the Islands in the Arafura 
Sea,' says : " We sailed from Port Essington on 
March 18, 1839. . . . Light airs prevented our 
clearing the harbour till the morning of the 
19th, and at 3 p.m. on the 20th we made the 
land of Timor-laut. ... At daylight on the 
21st we made aU sail to the northward, . . . and 



138 LARAT. 

anchored in eleven fathoms, sand and coral, 
three-quarters of a mile from the shore. On 
landing, the contrast to the Australian shores 
we had so recently sailed from was very strik- 
ing. We left a land covered with the monoton- 
ous interminable forest of the eucal3rptus or 
gum-tree, which, from the peculiar structure of 
its leaf, aflFords but little shelter from the tropical 
sun ; shores fringed with impenetrable man- 
groves, . . . the natives black, the lowest in 
the scale of civilised life. . . . We landed on a 
beach, along which a luxuriant growth of cocoa- 
nut trees extended for more than a mile, under 
the shade of which were sheds neatly constructed 
of bamboo and thatched with palm-leaves, for 
the reception of their canoes. The natives who 
thronged the beach were of a light tawny colour, 
mostly fine athletic men, with an intelligent 
expression of countenance." 

On the morning of the 13 th we finished our 
final packing in much discomfort, for the ship 
rolled badly, and the cabin windows were closed 
(always a misery to me) against spray and rain. 
It cleared when we were passing Molu and Vor- 
date, smaller neighbouring islands ; and as we 
drew near to Larat the sun shone out brightly, 
that we might not land on our adventurous life 



RITABEL. 139 

under too disheartening auspices ! We eagerly 
looked from the deck as we came closer and 
closer to the indented coast, whose low foreshore 
was covered with a thick forest of cocoa-nut 
trees and dark-green mangrove thickets, and 
which, though not uninviting, formed a marked 
contrast to the rich vegetation we had left be- 
hind in the Eastern Archipelago. At last the 
ship dropped anchor close by the village of 
Eitabel, in the narrow straits between Larat and 
the mainland. As soon as we had made fast, 
boats put off from both shores, and in a few 
minutes we were surrounded by a little fleet, 
whose occupants scrambled on board, talking in 
exuberant Papuan fashion, affording us an op- 
portunity of forming some opinion of our com- 
panions of the next three months. They were 
powerful, athletic fellows, having rich chocolate- 
coloured skins and flowing manes of gold-hued 
hair, which gave them a most prepossessing air. 
Two solemn-looking old personages — evidently 
chiefs of their villages, for one wore a battered 
grey hat, and the other a jacket of dark gauze 
stuff, tied by the arms round his neck — kept 
close to our elbow, and every now and again 
making the action of raising a cup to the lips 
and drinking, repeated ''lam,'' the word for 



140 THE POST-HOLDER. 

gin. Having stilled their importunity by a 
glass to each, we were besieged by the crowd, 
and were glad to descend into the boats to go 
on shore. A number of women stood close to 
a shed on the beach, too shy to come forward, 
but too curious to stay in the village. On com- 
ing quite near I was much disappointed in their 
appearance, with their untidy mops and dingy 
sarongs^ for I had looked for handsomer help- 
meets to the men. 

Our fellow-passengers and the ofiBcers of the 
ship accompanied us on shore, and went with 
us into the post-holder's house. It was soon 
arranged that we should rent a room from him 
till we could get a house, and our baggage was 
at once stored in his verandah. Within the last 
few months the Dutch had asserted their rights 
in some of these most outlying islands of their 
possessions, and a post-holder is an official who, 
by residence amongst the savage inhabitants, 
upholds the authority of the Government, and 
meanwhile impresses on the natives the benefits 
of civilisation. Post-holders are themselves na- 
tives of the adjacent civilised islands, and be- 
sides the good education enjoyed in such, they 
are specially trained for their post. A man of 
natural energy and tact has great scope for his 



immigrants' troubles. 141 

powers, and can soon make his presence felt on 
the savage. This man and his household were 
left in Larat only three months previously, and 
you can imagine how eagerly we listened to 
their account of how they had established them- 
selves. He himself, his wife, his young child, two 
policemen, their wives, and two hunters of the 
Kesident, had to take up quarters in a shed 
on the shore which had served as village tap- 
room, and was only grudgingly conceded. Soon 
tempestuous weather came, and waves washed 
through the shed, drenching them as they lay, 
already prostrate from fever. The natives freely 
came and went, amusing themselves by looking 
on, but they either could not or would not 
understand their earnest request for water, so 
it was the work of the one of the party least 
feverish for the day to go to the distant well. 
The indifference of the savages was not from 
dislike ; they had simply no idea of helping a 
fellow-creature. 

The immigrants had had a great trial of pati- 
ence in the erection of the house in which we 
sat, then, after three months' residence, not yet 
finished. Encouraging for us, who had no au- 
thority to insist on service, no flag to set up in 
token of power ! When our fidends of the ship 



142 A HOUSE-SITE WANTED. 

rose to go, we accompanied them to the shore, 
summoning all our courage to bid them a cheer- 
ful good-bye ; and when the Amboina hoisted her 
anchor and bore away, we sat down on a chest, 
and watched her grow less and less and disap- 
pear over the horizon with feelings somewhat of 
desolation, and not without misgivings, left as we 
were without the possibility of communicating 
with civilisation for at least three months to come. 
Our first thought was for our house. When 
the sun was declining in the afternoon, we set 
off to look for a site. We had to pass through 
the village, which is formed of irregular streets, 
most of the houses having the gable to the sea 
to allow of the prahus being run up under them. 
The village is encircled by a high double pali- 
sade, and at the landward gateway, excepting a 
narrow footpath, the ground is covered with 
sharpened bamboo spikes. The villagers who 
accompanied us pointed to these in the most 
excited manner, warning us to beware of them, 
and at the same time opening our eyes to the 
fact that we were environed by enemies, and 
that the village was standing on its defence. 
Outside the gate we entered a cocoa-nut forest, 
where, on the left, a high cliff stands, whose face 
is almost hid with bunches of ferns and bright- 



TRACES OF WARFARE. 143 

coloured shrubs, while graceful creepers interlace 
among the tall trees at its base and depend from 
its ledges. This is one of the prettiest little 
bits about us, and I was curious to get into the 
labyrinth to see its beauties nearer, while H. 
was as anxious to secure the large and beautiful 
butterflies which flitted among the bushes ; but 
we dared not go near for the hidden bamboo 
spikes, which were thickly set just in this corner. 
There was no use building here, without the 
defences : we turned along the beach by a nar- 
row stretch of sand, and then past a rocky piece 
of shore which is quite impassable at every full 
tide and shuts off* communication from the next 
baylet, above whose sandy shore a few huts 
stand. From these about twenty men were 
turning homeward to the village, beyond which 
they do not linger after sunset, and they with 
the most earnest insistence tried to hinder us 
from going farther. We would not heed them, 
but kept on, and climbed the bluff', on which 
stands the half-burned and recently deserted vil- 
lage of Eidol. Here we were made alive to the 
reality of the warfare with other tribes, when we 
saw a human arm hanging from a branch of a 
high tree, and around recently gibbeted heads 
and limbs. How disappointed I was to have to 



144 NATIVE EXCITEMENT. 

conclude that it would be unsafe to live any- 
where but in the village. We turned back and 
overtook the company who had tried to deter 
us from going farther, under whose escort we 
walked back to the village. I often recall my 
impressions of that hour with pleasure. You 
see us on the sea-beach at sundown, — would 
that I could fill in the picture so that you could 
distinctly imagine the group accompanying us, 
and see the savage at home. Twenty lithe, 
handsome young fellows, their golden manes 
bound — some with scarlet cloth and some with 
yellow leaves — ^with bright feather or gay flower 
decorations stuck at the side and floating on 
their dark brown skins, capering round, waving 
their bows and arrows in the air, and brandish- 
ing their spears, and now and again drawing 
near to examine our clothes and touch our hands 
and faces. One spied the corner of H.'s red- 
bordered handkerchief, and on being shown its 
use the excitement became yet greater, and 
they whooped and yelled in their merriment 
like great children. One who had great preten- 
sions to superiority on the strength of his hav- 
ing been away some months in another island, 
and picked up some Malay, as weU as a jacket, 
which he wore sometimes in the usual maimer 



NATIVE OPPOSITION. 145 

and sometimes as a turban, came quietly to my 
side, and as he rolled betel and chalk in the siri- 
leaf to place in his cheek, he begged me not to 
be angry — chewing siri and betel-nut was an 
old, old custom of the Tenimber people. Then 
he became confidential, and pointed out a great 
stalwart fellow who had lately killed one of the 
enemy, and asked me if I was not honoured to 
be in the company of a brave ! 

Next morning H. set about trying to get a 
site for our house fixed upon. We had now 
to learn that we might only have a house where 
we were permitted ; for some days it was even 
under debate whether we might build there at 
all. They said, ** There was the post-holder's 
party settled amongst them, and now we, more 
strangers, wanted to gain a hold in their village; 
they would rather be Tenimber people and keep 
to their own old ways." 

We then proposed to go to the village on the 
other side of the strait, and H. went over to 
negotiate the matter. For three days the debate 
went on, now with exorbitant demands which 
would have made a hopeless gap in our store 
of barter goods, then with a doubt whether we 
should be received; but finally we were point- 
blank refused permission to build there. By 

K 



146 A SITE OBTAINED. 

very liberal presents to the old men of Eitabel, 
they were at last cajoled into allowing a site 
just within the tide -mark, and close by the 
stockade, on condition that they were not to 
be troubled with the building of it ; then only, 
on the ninth day after our arrival, was our house 
commenced. During the ten days until it was 
finished we mingled much with the natives, 
who were constant onlookers, and were at last 
tempted by rewards to give some help, but 
their eflForts were very desultory. It may seem 
a light matter to land on a savage island and 
install one's self; but as I re-read my journal I 
recall vividly the vexation of the delay, and the 
constant restraint of our feelings lest we should 
irritate the natives — for our progress during our 
whole stay depended on the amicability of our 
first relations with them. It was then I first 
saw H.'s patience and tact displayed, when he 
was chafing sorely at tlie waste of precious time 
until he could commence the work he came 
to do. 

On the nineteenth day after our arrival we 
were settled in our dwelling. It is raised a few 
feet from the ground (for at high tide the waves 
wash right under it), and contains two apart- 
ments, — a sleeping chamber, which is also writ- 



OUR DWELLING. 147 

ing-room, and a large outer room, which is din- 
ing-hall and general store. The men's apart- 
ments, the kitchen, and the drying-house, are 
aU close by. Although the walls are open 
enough to admit plenty of light, we have two 
windows, one at each end, both affording pretty 
outlooks, but so high that I have to mount on 
a box to see out. While with the post-holder, 
we found that when the door was barred the 
window was filled with eager faces, and we 
thought by thus raising them to secure greater 
privacy ; but we find that every crevice in the 
walls of our little room is held by a peering eye 
as we sit writing by lamplight. 

The days spent in waiting were not lost. The 
post-holder is a dreamy sort of man, but his 
wife is a wonderful little woman, full of energy 
and tact. I always stood by her to learn as she 
bartered for the day's supplies. The natives 
pressed round with fish, fowls, yams, Indian 
corn, bananas, melons ; and though I could not 
imitate her ways, I admired how well she kept 
order in the unruly crowd, with loud good- 
natured scolding, a push, a hearty slap, or a 
kindly pat. 

Our trade goods we find are for the most part 
useless. Our beads they will not look at, they 



148 OUR TRADE GOODS. 

are too coarse and large. In vain I have made 
tempting strings of our gorgeous stock, which 
would have gladdened the heart of any child at 
home, and presented them to the little ones, 
thinking to educate the taste to our wares, but 
they would have none of them ; their taste lies 
in small red and blue sorts. Our German knives 
and coloured calicoes are acceptable; a large 
stock of white calico and various sizes of brass 
wire were long rejected, but now later on are 
more useful. I am amused to have to make 
mention of some dimly printed sheets of calico, 
which a trader in Banda solemnly assured us 
were eagerly sought as grave-cloths. No Ten- 
imber man ever saw such a shroud, and we are 
unable to arouse any desire for the glory of such 
a last wrapping. Arabs from Macassar come 
every year to collect tortoise-shell in these parts ; 
but their trade must be among more civilised 
people, with more wants, for such things as 
matches, papers for cigarettes, and drinking- 
glasses, which they recommended to us, we can- 
not dispose of in Tenimber. 

The post-holder's wife manages to have an 
excellent table from the few native products, and 
we know the difference when left to the tender 
mercies of Kobez, our own cook, who has pro- 



THE ORANG-KAYA. 149 

fited little from the opportunity he had of learn- 
ing in her kitchen. 

Two privileged persons — the old Orang-kaya or 
chief of the village, and Borie, the man with the 
jacket, who knows a little Malay — are permitted 
to come into the house when the lamp is lighted 
and the door barred against the crowd. Borie 
is thus favoured that he may be questioned about 
the customs, laws, and history, past and present, 
of his people. He is a striking-looking and hand- 
some savage, but I cannot quite like Borie. He 
can be such a sycophant when there is any hope 
of gin, and he has a cunning expression which 
makes me fight shy of any friendliness. The old 
Orang-kaya is an abject specimen of humanity. 
He sits — I mean crouches, none of them ever 
sit — gazing on us so meekly while the voluble 
Borie discourses. The poor fellow has had his 
house burned in a recent fray and lost all he had, 
and his wife was picked ofi* from the palisade by 
a lurking Kaleobar marksman. The Tenimber 
men always have a ball of tobacco between the 
teeth and lips, causing the latter to protrude 
greatly; ordinary speech is conducted without 
disturbing this obstruction. The utterance is 
thus rendered thick and indistinct ; but in ani- 
mated discussion the ball is removed and tucked 



150 VILLAGE FEUDS. 

behind the ear, or carefully inserted in some 
crevice of the wall. I often poke out from the 
wall numbers of these balls, left by persons who 
have come to give information or bring some 
object to exchange, and gone off too engrossed 
in the reward to remember their uncoveted pos- 
sessions. 

A state of war exists between the villages of 
Ridol, Waitidal, and Ritabel (our village) on the 
one hand, and Kaleobar (one of the largest vil- 
lages on the island), Kelaan, and Lamdesar on 
the other. Many of the villagers show us recent 
wounds received in a raid made a few weeks 
before our arrival. The bamboo spikes in the 
ground round the village were set to prevent 
such clandestine attacks. During the day they 
are removed from the paths which lead to the 
fields and wells ; it is the duty of the first out- 
goer in the morning to open the gate and re- 
move the spikes. At sunset, when the last man 
has returned to the village, the pathway is care- 
fully reset, and the gateway barricaded for the 
night. 

As the daily dread of attack by the Kaleobar 
tribes on our village has restricted operations to 
a narrow area, and kept us in a constant state of 
suspense and anxiety, H. proposed to the post- 



AN EMBASSY. 151 

holder that they should together visit that vil- 
lage to try what could be done by personal 
influence to establish friendly relations. A chief 
from Sera, an island on the west coast, who 
speaks Malay, being on a visit to our village, 
agreed to accompany and promised to be hos- 
tage if they tried to detain H. I was miserably 
anxious while this was being proposed, and was 
cowardly enough to be glad when the post- 
holder refused to risk his life in such an attempt, 
excusing himself on the plea that our neighbours 
of the next village, who had suffered badly in 
the last fray, would oppose a peace. H., how- 
ever, determined to sound them, so anxious was 
he to have the range of the island, and be able 
to assure our men, who would hardly go to the 
well for water, and refused to proceed any dis- 
tance into the forests to the hunt, that they 
might work without fear. How he fared, and 
how nearly I was left in the first fortnight of our 
stay to face the trials of such a life alone, I let 
H. tell in his own words : — 

"As, like most of the Tenimberese villages, 
Waitidal was situated on a flat space of some 
extent on the summit of a bluff which stood a 
good way back from shore, we had, in order to 
reach the gateway, to ascend the perpendicular 



152 MISSION TO KALEOBAR. 

face of the cliff by a steep wooden trap-stair, 
which I observed was of dark redwood, its sides 
elaborately sculptured with alligators and liz- 
ards, and surmounted by a carved head on each 
side. On entering I saluted those near the 
gate, but we were rather coldly received. As we 
proceeded up the centre of the village, two 
elderly men, evidently intoxicated, rushed at us 
with poised spears, gesticulating and shouting 
to those around to oppose us. The tumult 
brought out the Orang-kaya, whose approach 
prevented any immediate act of hostility, and to 
him my guide explained the object of our visit. 
Having shaken hands with us — a sign of friend- 
ship — he, accompanied by the older men, con- 
ducted us to his house, through the door-hole of 
which I ascended with the uneasy feeling of 
entering a trap. My proposals being fully ex- 
plained to them, they were received at first 
with little opposition, till my intoxicated friends 
joined the circle. One was evidently a man of 
some importance in the village, and at once 
opposed the project in a spirit of hostility, which 
gradually spread to the others. As no palaver 
is ever conducted without profuse libations, raw 
palm-spirit, distilled by themselves, was passed 
round in cocoa-nut shell-cups, and I was expected 



A PALAVER. 153 

to keep pace — no slow one — ^with their drinking. 
As the spirit circulated, the hostile feeling de- 
veloped, especially as the discussion had merged 
into another — viz., that I should be persuaded 
to leave Kitabel and dwell in Waitidal. They 
found I had sold much cloth and knives in Rita- 
bel, but had brought none over to them : I could 
have plenty of fowls among them ; they would 
find me no end of birds, and would not cheat 
me in the way the Ritabel people were doing. 
To this, of course, I could not agree, and put 
my refusal as pleasantly as I could. I tried to 
bring the palaver to a close by rising to leave ; 
but this they would not permit, for one of them 
barred my exit by sitting on guard on the mar- 
gin of the hatch. I shortly discovered that the 
subject of their excited wrangling was whether 
I should be permitted to leave at all. My guide, 
after whispering to me not to be alarmed, and 
adding a remark I did not comprehend, went 
away, luckily leaving the door open, intending, 
as I imagined, to return soon; but he either 
joined some other drinking-party and forgot to 
do so, or purposely left me to my own resources. 
Pretending to be quite pleased to prolong my 
visit, I presented my cup for more spirit, and as 
successive rounds were filled my companions 



154 ESCAPE. 

became incapable of observing that I did not 
drain my cup till I had passed its contents 
through the floor, and was imperceptibly near- 
ing the now open trap-door. I took the first 
opportunity of diving through the orifice, and 
with a bold step shaped my course for the stair- 
way at the top of the rock, where I felt I could 
dispute my departure on even terms. My guide 
appeared with rather a hang-dog look, and we 
wasted no time in getting to our boat and row- 
ing out some distance from the shore." 



155 



CHAPTER XII. 

RITABEL TENIMBBR CHILDREN FEVER — HAIRDRESSINO 

NATIVE INQUISITIVBNBS8 TENIMBER WOMEN — CLOTH- 
MAKING MARRIAGES. 

The Eitabel villagers seem perfectly well-dis- 
posed towards us, and without fear or suspicion. 
I'was soon welcomed among them, and am al- 
lowed to cany the babies, — ^good, interesting 
little creatures, profusely adorned with beads, 
and with their little limbs encased in a perfect 
buckler of shell bracelets : they wear a lighter 
shade of the chocolate skin which adorns their 
parents. I like to wander through the irregular 
paths intersecting the village, at sundown, when 
they are preparing the evening meal. Many of the 
mothers and maidens are stamping the Indian 
com by the eaves, the fathers carry the infants, 
the young men dance on the shore, and the shout 
of the children at play rings through the village. 



156 NATIVE HOUSES. 

Their houses are very neat structures, ele- 
vated four or five feet above the ground, and en- 
tered by a stair through a trap-door cut in the 
floor, which is shut down and bolted at night. 
But domestic work could not be performed within 
them, for they are nothing more than floor and 
roof, so it is that they do ever}'thing under 
their dwellings. There are, however, two fire- 
places inside, — one for cooking when the weather 
is too boisterous out-of-doors, while the other is, 
as it were, nurse to the infants. Coming home 
from a ramble one evening, ended by a stroll 
through the village, we were attracted to a hut 
where an unusual stir and brightness centred. 
They allowed me to climb up the trap-stair to see 
a newly-born infant, who was lying in a rude 
cradle (called in Tenimber language a siwela) 
of rattan wickerwork, with only a palm spathe 
beneath its back, and quite naked but for a tiny 
rag on its stomach. But it was kept warm, as 
well as defended from tormenting mosquitoes, 
by being swung over a fire, on this occasion in 
a smoke so dense that I was amazed it was not 
suffocated. To our utter astonishment we learnt 
that all quite young children are thus swung 
over the fire in the night, the mother having the 
end of a rope attached in her resting-place, and 



IN DAKGEIL 157 

when the child screams she pulls the cord to 
rock it to sleep again. Sometimes the fire blazes 
up and bums out the bottom of the cradle ; sev- 
eral severe accidents which had occurred in this 
way were related to us. I never saw children 
under about four months being carried about. 
They are allowed to lie in this hard cradle, al- 
ways in the same position, flattening the back 
of their little heads till the deformity is quite 
pronounced and lifelong. 

30^ Septj at sea, 

I was quite unable to continue writing to you 
while in Ritabel : to keep my journal taxed all 
the strength which almost constant fever left me. 
We are now on our way back to Amboina, and 
I must make an effort to have this letter ready 
to post on arrival there, some ten days hence. 
I never seemed to realise until we were really 
off what a risk of life we have run ; indeed I did 
not know it, for H. carefully concealed from 
me the reason of his nightly watches for the 
last six weeks. He professed that he slept in a 
chair to be ready to give me assistance while so 
weak, but the Kaleobar people had sent a threat 
that they were coming to attack our village, and 
it was to wait for them he sat. A small boat 
was hired and kept tied to the end of our house. 



158 DOWN WITH FEVER. 

and Lopez was instructed to take me across the 
strait, out of the fray, should the attack have 
been made before the steamer came. Of course 
I should have refused to go, — ^anxiety for the 
others would have been unbearable; but in 
realising what a narrow escape we have had, I 
could not sleep at all the first night after sailing. 
All our experience passed before my mind, and 
a sickening terror, which happily never disturbed 
me while in the scene of danger, excited me 
painfully. 

But let me continue the account of our life 
there. 

We were settled in our own dwelling before 
fever came upon us. I was last to succumb, 
though I had been suffering from headache and 
great lassitude for some time; but I had far 
worse attacks than any one when fever devel- 
oped. I cannot bear to look at my journal — 
the disheartening record of almost continuous 
attacks depresses me. For three weeks I had an 
attack with delirium every day, and was greatly 
weakened. A month after I say — " Only begin- 
ning to care to look from the window. It is so 
difficult to pick up strength again. Food which 
one eats with hearty appetite when well, is un- 
palatable in sickness, and a tempting morsel 



FEVER. 159 

such as one could wish is unobtainable." H. 
meanwhile had several sharp turns. He was 
really very ill when suffering from an attack, 
for his was accompanied by violent retching; 
but he rarely was down longer than one day at a 
time. It was most fortunate that we were never 
at the worst together, — one was always able to 
help the other a little. Our men suffered con- 
siderably too. Kobez, however, made the slight- 
est feverishness a cloak for his laziness, and often 
would not cook for us when he was best able of 
any; while to wash he refused point-blank, 
saying it always made him ill. Karl we have 
not found very obliging, but Lopez is always 
equal to an emergency. One day he came back 
from the hunt, and found me alone in the house 
making an attempt to prepare some fish, for we 
had had no food cooked that day. He tried 
to rout out the lazy Kobez, but even his efforts 
failing, he carried off the fish to the kitchen, 
himself cooked them, and served dinner most 
creditably. 

I have frequently mentioned the yellow locks 
of the men. They are dyed by a preparation of 
cocoa-nut ash and lime, a fresh application 
being required once in three or four days to keep 
the rich golden colour. Some have straight 



160 HAIR-DRESSING. 

hair, some curly, and others frizzy, but all bind 
it with coloured kerchiefs, or, failing such, a strip 
of palm-leaf. The gay young beaux spend much 
time in arranging the hair; those to whom 
nature has given only straight locks use a 
crimping instrument. Just behind the post- 
holder's house stood a long unused prahu, in 
which rain-water had collected, and this was the 
village mirror. It was an unfailing amusement 
to me to watch the row of youths standing 
there in the morning, tying with utmost nicety, 
and apparently with great vanity, the different- 
coloured bandages, one just edging over the 
other to see that the well-combed locks were 
properly confined, and finish with some last co- 
quettish touches. The old men do not dye the 
hair; many even middle-aged are being per- 
suaded of the benefit of having it cut short, and 
I was constantly being besought for a loan of 
my scissors. One day I had been cutting a red 
star from a label to paste on a child's forehead, 
when some of the onlookers — such were rarely 
absent from our house — got possession of them. 
H. asked me to try to get some specimens of the 
hair, and I motioned to a man to let me cut a 
piece. In the most complacent manner he laid 
his head on my lap, for he expected I was to 



A SUPERSTITION. 161 

complete the cutting of his hair. This I did not 
understand, however, and when I had cut one 
lock, I proceeded to roll it in a piece of paper to 
hand to H. The man looked up, and, to my 
surprise, begged it back. I persisted in keeping 
it, when the man broke into piteous tears, while 
the others got quite excited, evidently more 
with fear than anger, and joined him in entreat- 
ing me to return it, which I was finally forced 
to do. It seems the Tenimberese have the same 
superstitious dread which exists in some other 
islands, of any part of the person remaining in 
possession of another; in some places the nail- 
parings are carefully buried. During my dis- 
may at the tumult I had occasioned, the scissors 
again got into their hands, and haircutting in 
earnest commenced. A strong wind then pre- 
vailing blew scraps all over the apartment, and, 
not caring for such in my dining-room (especially 
as there seemed no chance of securing any, since 
the urchins scrambled over each other after every 
shred), I induced them to go out of doors. We 
followed, and, spreading my skirts, I managed 
to conceal a few pieces which the wind scat- 
tered, and cover them with my foot in the 
soft sand, both of us carefully noting with an 
outward air of unconcern from whom that dark 



162 OUR TEACHERS. 

curl came, or that straight piece, or that yellow 
lock. 

We soon learnt to converse with the natives, 
for they took the liveliest interest in all our 
doings, and accompanied us in all our walks. 
Perceiving that we desired to learn the name of 
everything we encountered, they themselves 
adopted the rdle of teacher, repeating to us their 
word for every tangible object, as well as trying 
to bring us to a comprehension of their expres- 
sions for abstract ideas. These savages cannot 
be indiflferent to the beauties of nature. The 
talk of parent and child, as they walk in forest or 
by shore, or sail on the sea, must be of her won- 
derful works, for the very young children could 
tell the name of every bird, butterfly, tree, seed, 
flower, and shell. I recall with pleasure, though 
sometimes deafened by the clamour at the time, 
how they used to pull my skirts and hold up 
some object, distinctly pronouncing its name. 
After some days our friends began to catechise 
us in past lessons, bringing us various objects 
whose names they had already given, and re- 
quiring us to repeat the word, laughing heartily 
when we made a failure or a mispronunciation. 
The buttons on our garments formed excellent 
objects on which to teach us numeration, and 



INQUISITIVENESS. 163 

certain villagers would never let us pass, on en- 
countering them, without hearing the unforget- 
able esdy eroo, eteloo, efdt, elima, eneaUy ejltoo, — 
one, two, three, &c. 

We were rather pestered by their perpetual 
presence in our dwelling, for, like all untutored 
races, their inquisitiveness knows no bounds. 
From morning till night we had constant relays 
lying in, or sitting about, our house, whom it 
was impossible to dismiss without giving offence. 
One day the hunters brought in a snake, already 
dead, but at the sight of it all near fled in the 
wildest terror. This hint H. made good use 
of, and when we were not in the mood to be 
interested watching their ways, or found them 
objectionable at meal-times, H. would cautiously 
insert his hand into the large tin where his 
specimens were kept in spirit, without any ap- 
parent reference to our visitors. Of course they 
pressed round to see what was going on, but 
when he withdrew his hand with a writhing 
snake in it, they would tumble over each other 
out at the door, screaming and shouting. As 
they never waited to see how the matter ended, 
they never came to know that we did not have a 
mania for keeping live snakes. 

We managed to make them understand that 



164 INQUISITI VEN ESS. 

our inner apartment must not be entered ; at 
the very first we would call out warningly when 
any of them seemed about to venture in, and I 
believe not one of them ever saw the interior. 
During the weeks I was prostrate they were 
quite annoyed, the post-holder said, that we 
stayed so much indoors, and some of them stood 
constantly by the window, which was too high, 
however, for them to see in readily. Growing 
impatient, they would call, '* Non ! non ! nony I 
Tuan ! tuan ! tuany ! " ^ the diminutive being 
uttered in a most pleading and cajoling tone. 
Having seen that H. wanted to buy objects of 
ethnographical interest, they brought all sorts of 
things, and held them up at the window. There 
was no article in their possession, from a garment 
to their own teeth, from their looms to their 
necklaces, that was not persistently pressed upon 
us ; and it having got abroad that H. wanted 
skulls, they imagined that skulls and bones of 
any kind would be equally acceptable, and 
gathered from the refuse-heaps near the village 
all they could find, offering them with such a 
clamour that I was quite irritated in my weak- 
ness. 

1 Tuan is " master " ; iionya (or nony, as they said it) is " mis- 
tress" or "lady." 



TENIMBER WOMEN. 165 

The women, if not treated with a great show 
of aflFection, and though left to perform all the 
harder duties of life, are not subjected to re- 
straint, and have a free and happy air about 
them. It is they who go to the distant forest 
to cultivate on the poor soil covering the coral 
rocks the sweet -potatoes, manioc, sugar-cane, 
Indian corn, cotton, and tobacco which are need- 
ful in their daily life. It is they who stamp the 
Indian corn into meal ; all day long, somewhere 
in the village, the dull thud of the stamping- 
pole in the large tridacna shell is heard. They 
must have good muscles ; they lift the heavy 
pole as if it were a bamboo. And how deftly 
they keep gathering in the grain with the left 
hand, scarcely any being spilled from the shell 
in the stamping. What does fall is at once 
picked up by the fowls, which are domestic pets ; 
and possibly from this food the Tenimber fowls 
are in excellent condition, and particularly well- 
flavoured. 

Here and there a woman is to be seen sitting 
close under the eaves of her house weaving cloth. 
Her loom is indeed an heirloom, and the simple 
contrivance is often elaborately carved, it being 
the pastime of lovers of successive generations to 
make fresh carving on the fair one's loom. The 



166 CLOTH-MAKING. 

buckle of her waistband is also his work ; I am 
not quite sure but that it is a token of betrothal 
when a girl wears the buckle her suitor has made. 
One end of the loom is fastened to a strong pole 
lying horizontally, against which the weaver 
presses her feet, and the other end is held fast 
by a band round her back; thus her work is 
kept stretched, and I have stood hours watching 
her lift the threads, and form — with, to me, deft 
and bewildering swiftness, as well as surpassing 
patience — the favourite Tenimber pattern which 
borders all the garments they make. 

Two kinds of cloth are made, one from beau- 
tiful soft cotton, grown by themselves, which, 
with a curious little spindle or twister, and a 
store in a tiny basket depending from the arm, 
they form into thread, dyed afterwards blue and 
scarlet, among which colours white is inter- 
mingled in the weaving. The result is a pretty 
and very soft cloth, and it is worn by the women 
when the evening chill comes on, but too often 
it is taken in loan by the men. 

The other material is used as a sarong or 
petticoat, and is manufactured by a patient pro- 
cess from the leaves of a palm-tree. The 
leaves are split into stripes of about an inch 
wide, then the outer skin is peeled oflF by the 



CLOTH-MAKING. 167 

aid of a knife, after this they are divided into 
many very fine threads, made into neat bundles, 
and converted into one long thread by a series 
of knots. Then the threads are dried and dyed, 
and twisted by a spindle like that with which 
the cotton is spun; they are then ready for 
weaving. The cloth from these is rather hard, 
and has a lustre. The colours used in this 
material are black, yellow, and red : all their 
dyes are made by themselves from barks and 
roots. I believe no one ever attempts an inno- 
vation of fashion. The scant sarong has been 
the Tenimber woman's dress for who knows how 
long, — how much longer will it be ? Now that 
civilisation has approached them, their life will 
not long preserve its savage simplicity. Man- 
chester looms will weave their sarongs, and 
after-dwellers will not be able to see Tenimber 
matrons, maidens, and the tiniest girls who can 
hold a twister, busied in every spare moment as 
they loiter by the doorway or trudge along with 
their burden, spinning thread for their excellent 
and durable petticoat. 

A fashionable toilet would be quite lost on 
them. One of the ship's company, who landed 
with us when we came, left with the post-holder 
a sheet from a French fashion journal, which 



168 TENIMBER BEAUTY. 

was hung on his wall. It represented ideal 
figures of ladies, in walking, riding, bathing, 
mountaineering, and gymnastic costumes : as 
far as I observed, — and I noted their manner 
carefully, — they saw no resemblance to human 
beings in these figures ; they were as triangles 
or squares to them. Ah ! may advancing civil- 
isation keep such monstrosities far from the 
graceful Tenimber women. With head erect 
and chest expanded, how easy, graceful, healthy, 
happy they looked! Untrammelled in limb, 
free of foot, it was worth while to watch their 
every motion. As they came home in their 
prahus from their gardens over the strait, al- 
ways just at sundown, when their figures, as 
they stand erect at the stern, show clearly 
against the ruddy light, with a powerful push 
of the pole, and an exquisite action of the body, 
sending the prahus shooting up the beach, they 
showed at their best, and formed a picture we 
never tired looking on. 

There is no question that the beauty of the 
Tenimber women is in their healthiness and 
natural grace of movement — not, except in a few 
cases, in delicacy of feature. In budding woman- 
hood some of them look sweet, — pensive eyes 
and the soft brown skin make up a pleasing 



A PASSIONATE CHILD. 169 

face ; but later they get thin, and the skin becomes 
shrunken. They do not dye the hair as the men 
do, and give little time to its arrangement. I 
never heard a woman sing. They may, but I 
did not hear even the '* li-li-la-a-a-a," which is 
the spontaneous expression of exuberance and 
content with the man, who also frequently 
bursts into wild happy song. They laugh often, 
however, with true Papuan heartiness. And 
they can scold too ! I once saw a woman rating 
her husband soundly ; he, however, took it very 
coolly, and went on quietly baling water from a 
prahu with a cocoa-nut, wisely letting her ex- 
pend her wrath without a word. I was surprised 
at the violence of passion displayed once by a 
little girl of about six years of age. Her mother 
and friends were sailing from the shore, going 
evidently to a distant garden, and for some 
reason she had to be left behind. She ran into 
the water, screaming violently, and tried to 
clamber into the boat. Seeing this hopeless, 
she came back and threw herself on the sand, 
beating her feet and tearing her hair ; occasion- 
ally she would rise, run a little, and then fling 
herself down again. Her state seemed to excite 
no pity from the onlookers. I tried to divert 
her, but she seemed deaf and blind from grief. 



170 MARRIAGES. 

Hours afterwards I saw her crouching in the 
village, sobbing gently still, and looking utterly 
exhausted from the outburst. 

But this was a single instance. When I think 
of the little girls, I always see a more pleasing 
and peaceful picture. They sit for hours in the 
required posture before tiny looms, imitating 
their mothers weaving, with real, and sometimes 
only imaginary, shuttle and warp. At a very 
early age they commence to carry burdens as 
their mothers do. A child of eight years carries 
a weight on her ba^k, held by a band round the 
forehead, which would make me stagger. 

A man may have as many wives as he can 
purchase, but as a rule it is all he can do to 
secure one, at least till he is considerably ad- 
vanced in years, and has disposed of some of 
his daughters for gold ear-rings and elephants' 
tusks, which are indispensable. These tusks 
are brought chiefly from Singapore and Suma- 
tra, where they cost 200 or 300 florins each, 
by the Buginese traders, who with the westerly 
winds seek out the creeks and bays of the " far, 
far east" to exchange them for tripang and 
tortoise-shell. The father of the girl has often 
to wait a long time for the ivory portion of her 
price ; but he hands her over, on the payment 



ELOPEMENTS. 171 

of the other items of the bargain, to her pur- 
chaser, who takes up his abode in her house, 
where she and her children remain as hostages 
till the full price is paid. A girl sorely wounded 
by the blind god occasionally takes the settle- 
ment of aflFairs into her own hands, and runs 
away with the object of her affection, without 
the permission of her parents — a proceeding 
which does not relieve him of the purchase- 
money. If, however, she had been or was about 
to be disposed of to another man, and had eloped 
with a more desired youth, she would be forci- 
bly seized, and her companion punished with 
death. 



172 



CHAPTER XIII. 

RITABEL MEN — THEIR EMPLOYMENT EATING — WAR-DANCES 

MORALS BOYS BABIES. 

The men have the advantage of the women in 
looks ; they give more time to personal decora- 
tion, and do not toil. They are undoubtedly 
lazy fellows, and seem to work only when in the 
mood. Their only regular task is' the bringing 
of the tuak which has dropped into a bamboo 
attached high on the stem of the palm-trees, 
and this is performed by the young men just 
after the morning hairdressing. We have often 
stood in our morning stroll to watch the Tenim- 
ber athlete mount the tall bare stem, climbing 
the slight notches cut in the tree with regular, 
unfaltering step, and singing gaily the while, 
his faultless brown form and waving yellow hair 
showing clearly against the palm's soft grey in 
the oblique morning sun, till he was lost in the 
shadow of its feathery crown. 



A NATIVE MEAL. 173 

With kindly manner they would accede to 
my wish to taste of the liquid they had just 
brought down. Seeing I shrank from drinking 
from the rather dirty bamboo, and objected to 
the insects which had dropped into it, the gal- 
lant would make me a cup of a fresh green leaf, 
and with a tiny bundle of dry grass form a 
strainer. The young men then join the elders, 
when they repair in companies — whether com- 
posed of relations or merely on the ground of 
friendship I cannot say — to large sheds in or 
near the village, to partake of the chief meal of 
the day. They remain here cooking, eating, 
and sleeping for many hours. The older men 
seldom end this meal sober, and cease only when 
fairly incapable of further imbibition : not only 
do they drink the very slightly fermented tuah 
just brought from the trees, but also a distilla- 
tion of it, made with a most primitive contriv- 
ance of a bamboo and a gourd over a slow fire. 
Therefore when they emerge from these huts 
towards sundown they are querulous, and pug- 
nacious and boisterous talking is occasionally 
heard in the village. The young men, if they 
taste the tuaky do not take enough to be in- 
toxicated, and come forth after their slumbers 
through the heat of the day with all their 



174 ARCHERY. 

vigour to dance on the shore or practise the 
drawing of the bow and the throwing of the 
lance. This was a beautiful exhibition, and as I 
looked on I could well understand Mr Wallace's 
words — **Here I was delighted with the beauty 
of the human form, a beauty of which stay-at- 
home civilised people can scarcely have any 
conception. What are the finest Grecian statues 
to the living, moving men I saw around me? 
The unrestrained grace of the savage as he goes 
about his daily occupations, or lounges at his 
ease, must be seen to be understood ; and a 
youth bending his bow is the perfection of manly 
beauty," — and not less so, I would add, when 
throwing his lance. Pity the foe who met such 
a cast ! Strong, and free of limb, practised in 
his art from his boyhood, the thrower would 
gather up his strength, concentrate all his en- 
ergies, and rushing forward, send forth his spear 
like an arrow from a bow. 

When war is threatened, at time of full moon 
the youths undertake to watch the common 
safety, and dance the tjikelele all night round a 
pole, which they say is Duadilah, their deity. 
Only in moonlight could the enemy see to make 
their way through the forest, and the villagers 
dance, shout, and beat their drums to let the 



DANCING THE TJIKELELE, 175 

foe hear that they are on the alert, as well as 
to keep themselves awake. Although it was 
sometimes distressing, when suflFering from ac- 
tual fever or the weakness it left behind, to have 
this perpetual clamour so near to one, we should 
have been duly thankful to our guardians had 
they only given up when daylight rendered 
further eflFort needless. They generally danced 
from sundown till ten next morning, but some- 
times they seemed to get intoxicated with ex- 
citement and to be unable to stop, and we had 
days and nights of unceasing noise. 

Although so exciting to themselves, their 
dance is rather uninteresting to an onlooker 
after having once seen it. Eight or ten, each 
with a cylindrical drum in his hand, form a 
circle, and commence a slow swaying motion, 
changing gently from one foot to the other with 
each stroke of the drum, while maintaining a 
crouching attitude which does not show the 
figure to the best advantage by any means. 
One, meanwhile, in a sing-song monotonous 
voice, asks fowls to eat, saguire to drink, success 
in war, immunity from sickness, the wife he 
wants, and any particular need. At a certain 
point the others join in loud chorus, the beat 
of the tom-tom quickens, the gentle swaying 



176 THE TJIKELELE. 

changes into stamping, the company draws closer 
to the centre, and intense excitement prevails 
as they come to a climax with wild yells and 
shouts, bounding leaps in the air, and powerful 
strokes on the drums. In the sudden silence 
which succeeds, another voice in rotation takes 
up the tale : it seems to me that when they 
have gone on for hours, and exhausted every 
rational request, they get imaginative, and, like 
boys telling wonderful tales, each tries to outdo 
his fellow in the extravagance of his impromptu 
invocation. At this dance they wear all their 
ornaments, such as large and heavy carved 
combs, necklaces which dangle on the breast, 
and ear-rings. 

It was frequently a subject of discussion be- 
tween H. and me whether this was the only 
dance of the people. Towards the end of our 
stay a young man was very anxious to be pos- 
sessed of a gay red-and-yellow handkerchief we 
had, such as his companion, the chiefs son, was 
wearing with great pride. But he never brought 
us anything to barter of nearly sufficient value 
for it, and as our stock of goods was getting low, 
we could not aflFord to be as generous as I was 
tempted to be, for he was a comely youth with 
a pleasant face, and the most enviable crown of 



THE TENIMBER HIGHLAND FLING. 177 

golden curls, which deserved a pretty kerchief 
to bind them. He said he would dance for the 
kerchief, but we, not knowing we were to see 
anything new, would only come to terms for six 
feet of brass wire. He then commenced what is, 
I suppose, the Tenimber Highland fling, and for 
about a quarter of an hour kept up a succession 
of lively steps, ending with some difficult move- 
ments as agile as graceful. Quite breathless, he 
then came forward for his reward. Need I say 
he received the coveted handkerchief, and had 
I known the expressions in Tenimber, I should 
have offered profound thanks for the treat. This 
dance is altogether different from the tjikelele, 
but the same crouching attitude is maintained. 
This must be thought desirable by them : some 
grotesque figures we bought represented men 
dancing in this position. I was surprised at the 
accurateness of the copy, but undoubtedly their 
artistic ability is very high. They are deft- 
fingered and clever carvers of wood and ivory. 
The figureheads of their outrigger prahus, dug 
out of single trees, especially attract attention 
by the excellence of the workmanship, carefully 
and patiently executed, and the elegance of their 
furnishings; while the whole length of the central 
pillars of their houses is also most elaborately 

M 



178 MORALS. 

carved with intricate patterns and representa- 
tions of crocodiles and other animals. Their 
appreciation of beauty is a characteristic of them, 
which, absolutely wanting in the Malay people, 
I was surprised to find among a less advanced 
race. While walking through the forest they 
invariably pluck and tastefully arrange in a 
hole in their comb, which is there for the very 
purpose, any particularly bright bunch of flowers. 
A word of their morals, before I tell you of my 
friends the boys. These are such as might be 
expected from a rude people subjected to no re- 
straint. Where they think they can escape 
detection, they lie and steal without compunc- 
tion, though their laws punish the latter ofience 
with slavery, from which the thief can be ran- 
somed only by a great sum. To their enemies 
they are savagely cruel, executing on those that 
fall into their hands the most revolting atrocities 
before aflixing their dismembered quarters to 
their public places. They are essentially selfish, 
and devoid of all feelings of gratitude or pity. 
To give anything for nothing would be a breach 
of all hereditary instincts. In their cups they 
are easily offended, and in all cases one has to be 
very wary in dealing with them, for the true 
savage comes out when they are roused. We 



SAVAGE SPIRIT. 179 

had once to hide our man Carl for three days in 
our room. A man supposed (wrongly) that Carl 
said he stole a knife, and he waited by our door 
all that time with hTs spear ready. The matter 
was finally explained and the man pacified. 
One day Kobez, our cook, was washing : a few 
young men from another village were visiting 
our village of Ritabel, and being very curious 
regarding our house, which had been erected 
since their last visit, they were making them- 
selves at home inside. Kobez deprived them of 
the pleasure of watching him by shutting the 
door, but they kept peering through the chinks, 
and making loud and eager remarks. I suppose 
Kobez was irritated, for he pitched a cupful of 
soapy water just w^here their eyes were. Of 
course, in any civilised country, one might throw 
water at one's will in the interior of a dwelling ; 
but these savages know no such niceties of law, 
and you should have heard the tumult 1 We 
really expected to be attacked, and it was only 
after many hours that we felt out of danger. 
One morning. the most appalling shrieking and 
moaning arrested our attention. Two men had 
quarrelled over a piece of cloth ; one had taken 
the other's child, and had a cord round its neck 
to hang it. There was he running with the child 



180 THE BOYS. 

on his shoulder, and the whole village — man, 
woman, and child — in the fray. H. and the 
post-holder went into their midst and managed 
to quiet them. 

Still, as a rule, when sober they are good- 
natured enough, and live in harmony with each 
other. They are a simple, bold, free people, in- 
genious and ingenuous, supplying their own 
every absolute need, utterly untaught in civilised 
ways. They know no rule, no master, they do 
not understand obeying; you may beg, bribe, 
barter, you need not command. 

Now as to the boys — such nice little lads they 
are ! When I first went, I used to play with 
them on the sands at sundown, running races, 
and taking an interest in their games ; after- 
wards, when weakened by fever, I used to draw 
objects familiar to them on the sand, and they 
guessed what they were. I could then talk with 
them, and they seemed to enjoy the fun as much 
as I. How near of kin is the whole world ! At 
a very early age the children begin to wade 
about the shallow margins of the sea, practising 
with spear and arrow the capture of fish, training 
arm and eye, till, when they have come of age, 
they have attained an almost unerring accuracy 
of aim. One of their great amusements is the 



THEIR SPORTS. 181 

sailing of little boats, which they enter for cham- 
pionship in spirited regattas. A tiny fellow can, 
from the soft sago-palm stem, himself shape and 
set with sail, and fit with rudder and oars, 
an excellent miniature of the prahu his father 
sails. They also build forts of sand, just like 
our boys at home, and defend them against their 
comrade foes with balls of wet mud, as our boys 
cannot always do. One tumble in the sea re- 
moves all trace of the fray from these little 
naked savages, while no end of brushing would 
be necessary to clean little English boys' suits. 
The older lads, and sometimes the men, used to 
look on with much pleasure at this play, and the 
shout of laughter which hailed a good hit told 
their enjoyment and interest. The chief game 
is, however, one of more skill and precision, and 
although very little lads try it, the grown youths, 
and even the men, take part in it. It is played 
with discs cut off the top of the conus shell, and 
each player has two, one of which he places in a 
depression in the ground, and with the other he 
takes aim from a crease a few yards distant. 
Passing his right hand holding the disc round to 
his left side as far as he can stretch, and steady- 
ing it with his left, he takes aim with eager, 
glancing eye ; then advancing with a run, he de- 



182 BAPTISM OP BURNING. 

livers with all his might. If he fails to hit, he 
returns to the mark to play again in his turn ; 
but if he has succeeded, he plays a second time 
from where his quoit rested. There is a great 
similarity to marbles in this game, but marbles 
are much more easily played than the discs. 

Most boys from ten to twelve have frightful 
sores upon the arms, produced by burning with 
stones heated in the fire. We were told this is 
to prevent small-pox, and they consider the scars 
a sign of bravery : this is, as it were, their bap- 
tism to the name of " brave." These sores must 
give great pain indeed. Flies constantly settle 
upon them, which they whisk ofi* very cleverly 
without apparently hurting the wound; but I 
have sometimes seen them blowing on them, 
and doubtless the brave little martyrs must 
endure an amount of sufiering of which a vacci- 
nation wound gives but a faint idea. 

I must give a word to the babies now, and am 
able to assure you that these savage parents are 
never harsh with their infants. To see the 
fathers carry them about in the evenings with 
kindly care, one could scarcely believe in the 
ferocity of their natures as we have sometimes 
seen it exhibited. The mothers seemed pleased 
at the notice I would take of their little ones. 



BABIES. 183 

who, like those with white skins, derive amuse- 
ment from small dolls, stuffed with rice grains 
instead of sawdust. The packets of sugar I be- 
stowed were inviolately kept for them, and given 
little by little, though evidently very tempting 
to the mothers themselves. The baby arms and 
legs are almost covered with circlets of shell, bone, 
and brass, with which the mother plays, rattling 
them up and down as she dandles the child ; and 
almost all the beads and buttons they get hold of 
go to adorn the little necks. I do wish that the 
need of warmer coverings had suggested itself to 
their minds. I have often seen the infants shrink- 
ing from the evening wind, and am assured that 
they really suffered discomfort from the cold. 

We are now drawing close to Amboina, hav- 
ing returned by the exact route by which we 
went. We were rather disappointed that we did 
not have the opportunity to go by the other, with 
which we are unfamiliar — i.e., coasting the west 
of Timor-laut, touching at Sera, Babbar, Wetter, 
and thence returning to Banda and Amboina ; 
but it really mattered little, as we were unable 
from weakness to go much on shore. We picked 
up wonderfully towards the end of the fortnight 
on shipboard, enjoying ease of mind, and an at- 
mosphere free from malaria. 



184 



CHAPTER XIV. 

tenimber holiday garb heat want of water 

barter for food difficulties about provisions 

cocoa-nuts a goose feud— a false alarm. 

Amboina. 
I AM writing in the house of Mrs Machik. Since 
we last saw them, they are established in a large 
dwelling looking out on the exercising plain, 
commanding a beautiful view of the bay and the 
hills beyond. But I shall finish my account of 
Tenimber before I tell you of the pleasure and 
beauty of life here. 

We had frequently visitors from other villages. 
These seemed specially dressed for the occasion, 
the men having both head-dress and loin-cloth, 
ornamented with fancy stitches which would 
do credit to a deft needlewoman : patches and 
stripes of red, white, and blue are really taste- 
fully intermingled on both articles of apparel, 
and beads form a fringe to finish the loin-cloth. 



ORNAMENTS. 185 

Ritabel villagers, too, have holiday garb, but it is 
rigorously kept for special occasions. Anything 
gay always goes on the head ; it is amusing to 
think that the considerable quantity of cloth we 
have given in barter has all gone to clothe that 
member, already so amply covered by the mass 
of frizzy hair. The men wear immense ear-rings 
of bone or ivory, so heavy that they often tear 
away the cartilage of the ear. The women have 
a graduated series of holes pierced all round the 
ear in girlhood, and until they can obtain the 
silver or gold rings they desire, the holes are 
kept open with points of thorns or tiny pieces of 
wood. Frequently they die without having ever 
had the number of rings to fill the holes, but at 
any rate they hoped to the last, for they were often 
to be seen readjusting the substitutes. Some also 
have toe-rings and anklets of brass, and there 
is no one that has not an armlet of some kind, 
of brass or ivory, or only of shell or wood. Both 
sexes tattoo a few simple devices on the breast, 
brow, cheek, and wrists, but never anything elabo- 
rate, such as the Papuans have whom we saw at 
the New Guinean ports we have just called at as 
we sailed north. The women think it a mark of 
beauty to have the teeth filed, and some have only 
a narrow black rim left protruding from the gums. 



186 AN EVENING WALK. 

It was not so very hot in Timor-laut. It was 
not the cool season during our stay, for we had 
very little rain indeed, but there was often a 
strong breeze from the sea, which had this com- 
fort that it carried off mosquitoes ; but it was 
simply courting a fever attack to go out in it. 
It used to blow through the strait in a gentle 
hurricane at times, and then we were anxious 
for the boats crossing, which often barely escaped 
being carried out to sea. Occasionally there was 
a soft balmy wind, but it was even more deadly. 
I see by my journal that one such evening we 
strolled out by the shore, and stayed long watch- 
ing the lizards and the hermit-crabs at their 
funny tricks ; and the tide being back, we saw 
many varieties of shells. We sat down on a 
tree-stump to enjoy the scene before us, — the 
blue-green channel, the rich verdure-clad islands 
beyond, the soft blue and pink tinted sky over- 
head, mingling evermore in the rich sunset. 
Warned by this glow we loitered homewards, 
the golden lights on our faces and the soothing 
breeze lifting our hair, full of satisfaction and 
enjoyment. But, alas ! the journal contains no 
further record till three weeks afterwards, when 
I resume, ** I am for the first time able to write, 
having been day by day prostrated by fever." 



WANT OF WATER. 187 

Perhaps want of fresh water was oue cause of 
our constant suffering. All our so-called fresh 
water was skimmed off the surface of holes made 
in the coral, and was brackish and unpalatable. 
There are no mountains in the islands, and no 
fresh-water streams. There was a spring in the 
village over the strait, but, as I have said, the 
boats could not always cross on account of the 
strong winds and currents. Then towards the 
end of our stay our villagers quarrelled with 
them, so that war was on the point of commenc- 
ing, and our men would not venture across. 

The natives are not unhealthy themselves. 
Occasionally they had fever, and the old had 
rheumatic limbs, but they seem to have excel- 
lent constitutions, and we never heard of any 
epidemic disease having appeared among them. 
I can recall one sickly lad. He looked about 
twenty, and was so thin ; he never tried to join 
the sturdy merry lads of his own age, but stayed 
by a fire tending the smoking of pigs' flesh. 

All immigrants, however, suffer greatly in 
acclimatising. Every one of the post-holder's 
party, who preceded us by three months, got 
sadly emaciated ; his child died, and one woman 
seemed dying. Marcus, an Amboinese police- 
man, was a great boon amongst the men; he 



188 SCARCITY OF FOOD. 

had such a merry heart, and was always able to 
influence them from his own exuberant spirits. 
But Marcus was not long of succumbing also to 
the depressing fever, and his attempts to dance, 
sing, and joke got rarer and rarer. Even the 
dogs were pitiable objects. They lost their hair 
and got thin too, and seemed scarcely able to 
drag their limbs along. 

When we first went we were very well ofi* for 
food. We took rice, cofiee, tea, sugar, biscuits, 
and absolute necessities; and fowls, fish, fruit, 
and some vegetables we readily got. After 
about six weeks' stay, however, the fowls in 
our village were nearly all consumed; the 
natives had sufficient of our beads, cloths, &c., 
to be rather indififerent about more, so that they 
did not then care to go fishing with the set pur- 
pose of bringing food for us and exchanging it 
for some desired article ; they did not cultivate 
more Indian com and sweet potatoes than suf- 
ficient for their own needs, and as such are the 
staples of their food, they could not part with 
what they had, and we were often very badly 
ofi*. 

We purchased in Macassar twelve dozens of 
barter-knives for ten rupees, and for one knife 
we used to get a fowl, or more often two fowls 



OUR MEALS. 189 

for three knives ; a large fish, which was dinner 
for the three men and ourselves, for two knives ; 
and ten eggs for one. But we were five, and 
the post - holder's party nine, so in time the 
supply was not equal to the demand. Kobez 
often hunted half a day for a fowl, and we had 
to give ten times as much as when we first came. 
Kobez made this an excuse for the most trying 
irregularity in serving our meals. I am sure he 
just amused himself when he went seeking food. 
Sometimes when he went over the strait, I could 
see him sitting on the beach for hours, making 
no efibrt to buy, and we famishing all the time 
for breakfast. We had a cup of coffee on getting 
up at 5.30, — that is, at daybreak. If you want to 
have any enjoyment out of a tropical day, you 
must get up then and go out in the morning 
coolness and freshness. In our cofifee we soaked 
biscuits, made in Amboina of sago and canary 
nut : they are like stones until soaked, but then 
with considerable risk to the teeth you can man- 
age to masticate them. The taste is very sweet 
indeed ; but though we had a large stock, they 
were too diflScult to eat to enjoy a satisfying 
meal from them. At 10 we ivere supposed to 
have breakfast, at which we had fowl or fish, 
and rice or potatoes, with sago and cocoa-nut 



190 PRIVATIONS. 

milk as a pudding. When I was well punctual- 
ity was enforced, but later, when Kobez was left 
to himself, and when he had to hunt for food, 
he offered the meal at various hours, from 8 a.m. 
till 3 P.M. Shall I ever forget how I suffered 
from faintness for food in that place I In the 
afternoon we had a cup of tea, and should have 
dined at sundown, about 6.30. Sometimes we 
had that meal (the same viands as at breakfast) 
ready at 4 in the afternoon, and sometimes 
not till 10 P.M., when I was so sleepy and tired 
that I had gone to bed. Kobez seemed to have 
no power of reckoning time or arranging his 
work. 

I think I have said that the fowls were of 
excellent quality, being reared chiefly on the 
grains of Indian corn spilled in stamping; but 
the fish were even more delicious. Indeed I 
have never anywhere seen such variety, or 
tasted such excellence. Fortunately we got 
very fond of having them cooked in cocoa-nut 
oil (which some people cannot taste) ; and I 
used to think we could never be badly off beside 
this teeming sea. But the natives would not 
go fishing for us when they had got surfeited 
with our goods. Occasionally they went out 
to take for themselves, and when we saw them 



BARTERING. 191 

setting off, we had high hopes that perchance 
we might persuade them to give us some of 
their catch. We were sometimes not only dis- 
appointed but tantalised. A man brought once 
to our door a large piece of a fish, with a bunch 
of small ones of a particularly delicious flavour 
attached. He wanted a button for the whole, 
a bright gilt button, such as I had had on my 
dress; but I had cut them off one by one at 
different times, and had then no more of that 
kind. I offered him a jacket of H.'s complete, 
with bone buttons; he would have none of it, 
nor anything in our whole stock. We bartered 
long, for we really needed food. He sat by the 
door till afternoon, thinking that at last I would 
produce the coveted button ; then he hung the 
fish on a pole in front of our door, and went, 
leaving them spoiling in the strong sun before 
our eyes. Next morning we had to send for 
him to remove them, stinking by that time. 
We dared not have taken them : to have done 
so would have probably cost us our lives. 

You will wonder that we did not send our 
own men to fish. Even if we had had the 
necessary appliances, we dared not. The fishing- 
ground of the natives is their most prized posses- 
sion ; the commencement of their fierce and long 



192 PIGS. 

warfare with their Kaleobar foes was some dispute 
about the division. Fishing, the chase, and war, 
are the defined duties of the male sex, and they 
throw all their heart into these when they do 
engage in them. It is rather pretty to see them 
set ofi* fishing. They choose the darkest nights, 
and at one end of the prahu a great bundle of 
prepared wood is ablaze to attract the fish. In 
this light one can clearly see their figures, as 
they busy themselves with preparations for 
their work, or stand poling the prahu along the 
coast in the graceful attitude so natural to them. 

A few of them keep a single pig penned close 
by the dwelling, but there were never many in 
the village, and none were ever offered to us for 
sale. These pigs are wild, and are generally 
brought in when they go on the buffalo hunt. 
We were told that they sometimes bring back 
a buffalo, but such good fortune never happened 
while we were there. 

About the middle of our stay our coffee went 
done. We gave of it to the men when down 
with fever, knowing ourselves the advantage of 
a hot drink during the terrible ague. Then we 
were thrown entirely on tea. Alas ! that failed 
us too. Being so often sick, I did not have the 
same care of things as I should otherwise have 



STORES FAILING. 193 

had, and neglected to put it in the sun to pre- 
vent it spoiling in the tropical moisture. If we 
had been wise we should have had it in sealed 
tins ; but it is H.'s way to be absolutely indiflfer- 
ent to personal comfort, and I was too inexper- 
ienced then in the housewifery of a tropical 
climate to be on the outlook. So it was almost 
all mouldy when we were warned to open the 
packages by discovering one quite white. Sorely 
grudging the necessity, we threw out all the bad 
packages, and the only consolation was that 
henceforth we had tea which could not harm- 
fully affect the nerves ! 

Our salt, sugar, and soap held out to the last, 
and there remained considerable quantities of 
each to give to the delighted natives when we 
departed. 

About the third day before we left a strange 
boat came, bringing some turtle-flesh. I believe 
they dry it in the sun and smoke it. What we 
got looked like sheets of glue, and we could not 
manage to eat it ; but our men cooked it in some 
way, and seemed to enjoy it greatly. 

Lopez and Carl, the hunters, went to the out- 
lying islands of Molu and Maru to collect speci- 
mens of the birds and plants there. On their 
return, after ten days, they brought us a number 

N 



194 COCOA-NUTS. 

of fowls, some sweet potatoes (of these, however, 
one may eat only very sparingly), and some of 
the small oranges which grow there — sweet, in- 
deed, and grateful. 

Here I first learnt how useful a culinary aid 
the cocoa-nut is as an article of food, and how 
delicious the water it contains is as a beverage. 
It is almost impossible for you to understand 
what a boon it was to us in Timor-laut. When 
recovering from a fever attack, my greatest com- 
fort was the water from the young cocoa-nut; 
and when this is extracted, on breaking the nut 
a thin layer of delicious pulp, of the colour and 
consistency of thin corn-flour, can be scraped olf. 
The hard part of mature nuts is grated, and, when 
boiled, the oil skimmed off is used for frjdng. 
When the oil is made daily, the flavour given to 
food cooked in it is, I think, delicious ; but when 
it is the least rancid, it is just as disagreeable. 

It is, no doubt, troublesome to make the oil so 
frequently, for the grating is tedious, and it must 
be slowly boiled ; still, Kobez was not so op- 
pressed by many duties that he could not find 
time to make it himself. We learnt, at the close 
of our stay, that almost daily he went to the 
post-holder's house, and, with his nonya!s com- 
pliments, demanded a bottle of oil I 



THE post-holder's GOOSE. 195 

Unfortunately our friendly relations had been 
slightly ruflSed, and all through a goose. They 
had wisely brought birds of this family from 
Amboina, and, since their stay in the place might 
be long, they were anxious to rear goslings. 
Their house was built quite on the ground, native 
houses were built six feet from it, while ours 
was raised from one to three feet, according to 
the irregularities of the ground beneath. Under 
our house was the most comfortable place, with- 
out doubt, for the poor goose to nest in, and she 
chose a spot exactly under my bed. To my sor- 
row I was too often in bed, and was separated 
from her only by a flooring of split bamboo, which 
very much resembles the lath of a house in pro- 
cess of building. The other geese came about, 
and there was really seldom quiet from their cack- 
ling. In the night I used to wake up, sure that 
some one was moving in the apartment, until I 
remembered that it was only the goose rustling 
on her nest ; and when I was lying in greatest 
prostration, after the delirium of fever had abated, 
in acute physical agony from rheumatic pain in 
every part of the body, and with every nerve on 
the stretch, the shrill skrdiJc, sJcrdik, skrdik of 
these birds used to cause me to jump quite out 
of bed from the start and sudden fright. I bore 



196 THE GOOSE EVICTED. 

it as best I could, though I felt sometimes as 
if it would make me mad, for I could under- 
stand what a disappointment it would be to the 
post-holder's wife to disturb the fowl when it 
had set. What a resource both the prospective 
fowls and their eggs would be in such ^ destitute 
place ; besides, I really liked to see them going 
about — they were the only immigrants that 
seemed to thrive. H., however, was much en- 
gaged with calculations from observations with 
his sextant, and measurements on the shore, and 
when thinking deeply, the disturbance of these 
creatures was more than he could bear. Fre- 
quent polite messages to remove them were un- 
heeded; at last we sent to say they must be 
shot if they were not taken away. Our neigh- 
bours removed them, and owed us a grudge ever 
after. I can laugh now over the matter, it seems 
too silly almost to write about ; but you can only 
faintly imagine what we suffered from this cause. 
The men went in company with the post- 
holder and the four men of his party, so that our 
strength for defence, should an attack be made, 
was very slight. There was Kobez, to be sure, 
our clever cook and caterer, who would doubtless 
show himself as ready in fighting as in his right- 
ful sphere ! 



A FALSE ALARM. 197 

Towards sundown one day, while they were 
still absent, H. was getting up from a very bad 
attack of fever. EoUed in all the clothes he had, 
he had just sunk into his chair, when a terrific 
shot startled us and the whole community. 
Shouts of " Kaleobar ! " resounded everywhere, ) 

and the villagers, every man with his arrows and - 

javelins ready, ran swiftly to the barricades in 
wild excitement. It was like nothing but a dis- 
turbed ants' nest. The post-holder s wife came 
to our window and cried, " Master ! master ! 
come I " but master was already disburdened of 
his heavy clothing, and busy with rapid arrange- 
ments for defence. I called Kobez, but after- 
wards it was remarked that no one caught a 
glimpse of him during the alarm. I think he 
must have burrowed in the sand or climbed a 
tree. H. very highly praises my self-command on 
this occasion, but I am bound to confess that the 
latter resource would have been mine could I have 
scaled these smooth-stemmed trees, and could I 
have had the heart to leave H., so weak that he 
could scarcely stand. After one moment the 
feeling of fear passes, and the excitement of the 
emergency lifts one above any thought of self. 

It was only a scare from the accidental dis- 
charge of a late-returning villager's gun : they 



198 A FALSE ALARM. 

charge them always to the muzzle. The chiefs 
son came to tell us, evidently disappointed that 
he had had no chance to fight; but we were 
thankful it was nothing more, while we were so 
ill-prepared to meet an attack. This incident 
showed how tense was the expectancy under 
which our village was living. 



199 



CHAPTEE XV. 

TENIMBER SLAVERY VBGBTATION FIRE RELIGIOUS 

BELIEF BURIAL RITES DEPARTURE. 

TiMOR-LAUT is a Malay appellation, probably 
given by Macassar traders, who come thus far in 
their curious prahus to exchange their wares for 
tortoise-shell and tripang, and is a name quite 
unknown to the natives. They speak of them- 
selves as Tenimber people. It was long thought 
that the two large islands, now found to be separ- 
ated by a strait, were one ; but the natives must 
have known of two, for they speak of the northern 
island as Yamdena, and the southern as Selaru. 
Villages are dotted pretty thickly along the 
coast, except on the northern portion, where 
there appears to be no population. No black 
frizzly -headed savage people dwell in the in- 
terior, as has been supposed : there are no in- 
habitants there. The old Chinese gentleman in 
Amboina, who was so kind to us, blames the 



200 SLAVERY. 

inhabitants of some of these islands for kidnap- 
ping his son. He sailed in command of one of 
his fathers vessels, and in this neighbourhood 
the natives had attacked him and taken him 
captive. All attempts to find him had been 
fruitless : his father thinks that, when they saw 
a vessel approaching, they hurried him ofi* some 
distance inland. 

They do have slaves in some parts, but there 
were none in our village. One day a large prahu 
drew near, and was moored to the beach, not far 
from our dwelling. The company came on shore, 
and stayed, making merry with our villagers for 
two days : all that time, before my eyes, a Papuan 
woman was tied to the mast, with not more than 
a yard of rope. Everything necessary to cook 
for the company, fire and all, was within this 
limited range, where she toiled all day, no one 
speaking to her or heeding her. I had a burning 
desire to go and cut her free ; but we should 
have been murdered for my pains : and where 
was the poor creature to go to ? There was no 
food and no fresh water in the interior; and 
besides, they would have hunted her down at 
once. 

There are no mountains in the group, except- 
ing a cone, rising about 2000 feet, in the west- 



VEGETATION. 201 

ern part. There are no fresh -water streams. 
The island is of coral formation; and precipi- 
tous cliffs, 20, 30, 60, 80, and in one part even 
100 feet in height, rise nearly all round the 
coast. Some of these are of very beautiful and 
grotesque shapes — huge boulders, perfect arches, 
dark caves, and fairy grottoes succeeding each 
other in ever-varying form. 

The vegetation grows on the scantiest possible 
soil. There are some very tall trees, though 
sparse, and in parts the low shrubbery under- 
forest is almost impenetrable. Bright-coloured 
flowers are not abundant ; but a beautiful orchid, 
of a deep lilac colour, grows profusely in the 
coral crevices, often within the splash of the 
waves. In spite of the men's dread of going 
into the forest, the herbarium grew. H, often 
went ofi* from sunrise till sundown to the main- 
land and the neighbouring islands, and returned 
with a laden boat. Only a miserable few of these 
plants ever left Kitabel : almost all were con- 
sumed in an unfortunate fire — a heartbreaking 
episode to both of us. Writing in my journal, 
September 9, I say : " This forenoon, when quite 
alone, H. and the hunters having gone to the 
opposite shore for the day, and Kobez to the 
well, a mile ofi*, while I was sitting in that miser- 



202 FIRE. 

able restless condition which succeeds a fever 
attack, a longing seized me to look out of the 
door, for I had for many days been unable to 
leave my sleeping apartment. Fortunate im- 
pulse 1 Kobez had piled half-a-dozen great logs 
on the fire of the drying-house (an erection, like 
our dwelling and all the Tenimber tenements, 
of bamboos and atap thatch, now, at the close 
of the dry season, very inflammable), and left 
them to the whims of a strong breeze, which, at 
the moment I looked, had just fanned the fire 
into fierce flames. I sped into the village for 
help, but met the post-holder with his men run- 
ning towards me, attracted by the rushing noise 
of the conflagration. Without a moment's delay, 
some of them cut great palm-branches to inter- 
pose between the burning house and the over- 
hanging eaves of our dwelling ; others tore apart 
the framework, scattered the bundles of plants, 
and beat the flames with green branches ; while 
the Tenimber natives poured on water, which 
they carried in gourds and bamboos from the 
sea close by. With what breathless anxiety I 
watched the efiect of each gust of wind I for the 
thatch of our house — in which were stored several 
tins of petroleum and spirits of wine, and a quan- 
tity of gunpowder — was already scorched. Had 



DESTRUCTION OP SPECIMENS. 203 

it caught, nothing could have saved the whole 
village from destruction, nor us from the ven- 
geance of the people. At last the flames were 
got under, and I had time to realise that the few 
charred and sodden bundles before me were all 
that remained of more than 500 of the first- 
gathered specimens of the flora of Tenimber, col- 
lected at such risk and pains. I could not bear 
to stand on the shore, as usual, to welcome the 
home-coming boat ; but long ere it touched, the 
ruined drying-house had told them the disheart- 
ening news of the disaster that had happened." 

The Tenimber islanders recognise a supreme 
existence, whom they name Duadilah, and of 
whom there is an image in every house, on a 
bracket facing the entrance, with a platter be- 
side, on which food and drink are placed every 
time they eat in its presence. In their wallets 
the men carry little gods, to which they talk, 
confiding all their afiairs and bespeaking favour- 
able fortune; and every time they drink they 
dip the finger and thumb in the liquid, and flick 
a drop or two upwards, with a few words of in- 
vocation. 

They believe in an after-life, saying they go 
to a certain distant island when they die. This 
island is regarded with reverent fear, and no 



204 RELIGIOUS BELIEFS. 

one would approach it when sailing in that direc- 
tion. We bought a fish once from an old man 
who had just caught it; before he delivered it 
he asked us to wait a little, when he cut off the 
fins and threw them again into the sea, saying 
these would float the fish's soul to spirit-land. 

They believe, too, in an avenging spirit. We 
were standing looking out one day, when we 
noticed a boat being urgently propelled across 
the bay. On touching, the single rower sprang 
out, and went straight to the village shed, carry- 
ing with him a small red flag attached to a slen- 
der pole, which he affixed to the house. Then, 
raising his head, in a loud voice he uttered what 
seemed to be a prayer, his gestures, attitude, and 
tone being those of one under the influence of 
intense feeling. When he had done, looking 
neither to right nor left, waiting to speak to no 
one, he jumped into his boat and withdrew as 
hastily as he had come. This incident made a 
deep impression on us. I have never seen any 
man more in earnest than this savage, and we 
were much interested in learning afterwards that 
he was cursing the village, because he suspected 
some of the inhabitants of having stolen his 
loin-cloth. 

They do have burial rites, but these are not 



BURIAL RITES. 205 

always carefully observed. Those who die in 
war, or by a violent death, are buried ; those 
who die at home are placed on the detached 
boulders of coral which dot the coast, or on a 
platform erected on the sandy shore. A chief, 
or one to whom they would do honour, is always 
buried in this latter way. A decorated prahu- 
shaped coffin is specially made, and the body is 
enveloped in calico. On the top of the coffin-lid 
are erected tall flags, and figures of men playing 
gongs, shooting guns, and gesticulating wildly, 
to frighten away evil influences from the sleeper. 
When the post-holder's child died, they were most 
averse to its being buried, and the family had to 
keep a watch over its grave, upon which they 
dared make no outward mark until the people 
had forgotten that the child was buried there. 

If a man loses his head in war, a cocoa-nut 
is placed in the grave to represent the missing 
member, and to deceive and satisfy his spirit. 
When a body is decomposed, one of the family 
brings home the skull, which is placed in a small 
platform in the house. But this custom is not 
always observed, and in walking by the shore 
one had to be careful not to stumble over the 
skulls which lay scattered there. One evening 
after dark a man came to our house with a great 



206 BURIAL RITES. 

show of secrecy. Od being allowed to come in, 
he rolled on the floor from a sack half-a-dozen 
skulls. He was, however, a man of Waitidal 
village, and perhaps did not feel any respect 
for the dead of Eitabel. 

Some of the bodies placed on the rocks are 
encased in a disused prahu, sometimes only 
within strips of the sago-palm. These latter 
soon give way, when the skeleton lies bare, and 
is shortly knocked down on the shore by some 
high wind or haunting bird. A most sickening 
odour used to come down the wind from the 
north after rain, and at all times our men were 
very unwilling to go past that quarter : they said 
the smell gave them fever. We sometimes went, 
for very beautiful butterflies flitted about these 
rocks, and, as I have said, the boulders are of the 
most fantastic shapes. Once we were lured on 
some miles along the beach by curiosity to see 
what freak of form would next present itself. 

And now I have little more to tell of 
this unusual experience. The steamer, we 
thought, was due on 20th September, but it 
was eight days longer in coming than we 
reckoned on. The shot was done, the men 
refused to go at all into the forest, the word 
" Kaleobar " was in every one's mouth, the 



PHOTOGRAPHING. 207 

attack was daily expected, and we had nothing 
to do but long for the coming of the vessel. 
From the 21st till the 26th I was prostrate from 
fever, and I see some signs of impatience in my 
record. Our men wanted to go back to Amboina 
in a prahu trading for tortoise-shell which had 
called at Ritabel, and which would take about a 
month to reach Amboina ; but H. was deter- 
mined to keep them to help in defence should 
we be attacked. H. employed himself in patient 
efforts to photograph the natives and the vicinity; 
but some of the chemicals were not in good con- 
dition, and the result was very unsatisfactory. 
He tried to sketch them, but they were so 
afraid when they saw what was being done, that 
some burst into tears and others ran away. The 
only way was to sketch them from the window, 
while Lopez went out and engaged them in 
conversation, trying to divert their attention 
from that direction. 

Early on the morning of the 28th, while I was 
pondering whatever we should eat that day, a 
cry arose, and Lopez ran in to say that the 
steamer was coming — "he could not see it, but 
the natives did." We had had one or two false 
alarms, and I was afraid to believe the good 
news. We hastily got the glass, and found it 



208 FAREWELL TO TENIMBER. 

was true. Far, far off, right in the light which 
was just rising over the horizon, was a tiny 
speck. Nearer and nearer it came, while we 
looked on with beating hearts and straining eyes 
till the long streak from the funnel assured us 
that it was really a steamer. Then the half-hour 
of high-strung expectancy till we felt sure that 
it was our steamer ! Would she go east or west, 
or come into Wallace Channel ? We tasted the 
agony of castaways in sight of passing aid. Yes ! 
she was coming straight into our harbour ; and, 
half- stupid from joy, we hurried hither and 
thither making final preparations, staying now 
and again to look out on the welcome Amboina 
till she dropped anchor a few yards from our door. 
By 10 o clock we had already sailed, stand- 
ing where we had stood three months before, 
only passing from, not coming to, an experience 
which neither of us would willingly repeat, but 
which, nevertheless, neither would have fore- 
gone. Our sickness, privations, anxieties, and 
labours we felt not worthy of name beside the 
beautiful pictures both on the face of nature and 
in her creatures, the recollection of our pleasant 
relations with our savage friends, and the in- 
terest of our pursuits, which would henceforth 
furnish food for many a reverie. 



209 



CHAPTER XVI. 

AMBOINA THE MAGHIKS VOYAGE PROM TENIMBBR OUR 

BLACK PARROT — BANDA AMBOINA SOCIETY DUTCH 

HOUSEKEEPING A NATIVE WEDDING — BRIDE DANCING 

FOR MONEY SANTA CLAU8 LEAVE FOR BANDA. 

November, 

We are now very much at home with Dr and 
Mrs Machik in their pleasant abode, where they 
have been already some time comfortably settled. 
On arriving in Amboina, we found that the reg- 
ular mail of the Moluccas was due in a day or 
two. H. being anxious to despatch the most 
important of his collections to Europe by this, 
the first opportunity, we laboured incessantly at 
labelling and packing, the task occupying the 
greater part of the nights as well as the days 
— a great strain while so weakened by fever. 

We have now settled into a pleasant routine, 
in which we continue the work in a more 
leisurely way. The doctor being himself a keen 



210 THE MACHIKS. 

scientist, he and H. have as unfailing enjoyment 
in each other's society as my sister-like friend, 
his wife, and I have in our happy companion- 
ship. Mrs Machik has a perfect mania for 
tidiness, but she endures with the kindest for- 
bearance the litter of our treasures scattered in 
verandah and apartment. Although I have 
some qualms on her account, I must also have 
regard to H.'s oft-reiterated prayer "not to tidy 
away his things." I have some lurking doubts 
on the subject, but he ever assures me that 
" there is method in his disorder." In a wander- 
ing and hut life a great complacency gradually 
comes over the most fastidious nature, and 
happily blunts the edge of one's fidgetiness. 
At first I fretted sorely over the thick dusting 
of powder which constantly falls in a hut made 
from green bamboos. This is the work of b, tiny 
insect, which commences to bore in the reed the 
moment it begins to dry. Books, instruments, 
and every level surface are covered in the morn- 
ing, and when dusted, the gentle shower soon 
coats all again. I now reason that nothing could 
be cleaner than this fine sawdust, which can be 
whisked away with a feather, or blown with a 
breath, when anything is to be used. 
The Machiks are Hungarian ; they have been 



I 



VOYAGE FROM TENIMBER. 211 

nearly ten years in the East Indies now, and are 
greatly enamoured of the pleasant life, preferring 
the climate to that of Europe. Two girls who 
inherit the mother's beauty, Irma and Ilka (the 
Mary and Ellen of English), and a most precoci- 
ous spirited boy of four, are growing up around 
them. My converse with them is in German, 
but H. and the doctor fall generally into the 
ready Malay, which, with the aid of Latin, 
serves them in the most learned discussions. 
From these friends we have an excellent oppor- 
tunity of gaining information on all subjects 
connected with life in the archipelago, for they 
have had experience of many parts of it while 
stationed at the different garrisons. 

Before I tell you of social life in Amboina, I 
must turn for a few minutes to speak of our 
voyage here from the Tenimber Islands, and 
particularly to mention one person to whom we 
owe much, the chief ofl&cer of the vessel, an ideal 
sailor of the old type. We quite intrigued to 
waylay him for a few minutes' talk when we 
saw him approach with his steadying gait, learnt 
in many a wild storm. He possessed only a 
limited knowledge of sailor-English, but could 
recount his experience or tell a humorous tale 
with a power which commanded the listener's 



212 "KERA-KERA." 

keenest interest, while through everything shone 
his gentlemanly spirit. Tom Bowling must 
have been just such a man : may it be long 
until he " goes aloft." 

We were the only passengers, — rather a 
matter of congratulation on the whole, we 
were so worn out from anxiety and fever, and 
as ill fitted in garb as in humour to mingle 
with those fresh from civilisation. 

At Skroe we purchased a small black parrot, 
which was an unfailing source of amusement 
on the voyage, and is now the pet of the chil- 
dren of our hosts. It must have been accus- 
tomed to fondling from its former owner (H. 
says it was nestling in the armpit of the sav- 
age from whom he purchased it), but where it 
got its taste for tea I cannot say. As soon as 
it saw the boy bring afternoon tea on deck, 
Kera-kera came hopping along from the furthest 
corner to share with us, and would imbibe a 
surprising quantity, well sweetened, and with 
abundance of milk. We call it Kera-kera from 
its frequent utterance of this sound, and here 
it answers readily to the name when the chil- 
dren call. H. cannot resist the temptation to 
buy animals, which prove a nuisance, since we 
have no home of our own. He brought a tree- 



BAND A. 213 

kangaroo on board at Gessir, which is now 
playing such havoc in the doctor's pretty gar- 
den that we must put it in spirit. 

At Banda we visited, as usual, Bin Saleh's 
shop, and were tempted to buy some half-dozen 
skins of the twelve -wired bird of paradise — a 
creature lovelier than I had imagined among 
the feathered tribe. During the night passage 
from Banda our boxes had been opened, and 
these, with a skin of the king-bird, extracted. 
This last we much regretted. While lying at 
Aru, Lopez went a day's journey to the haunt 
of this lovely bird, and delighted us by bringing 
back two specimens in perfect condition. 

On the whole, however, we have not suffered 
much loss from theft, although constant petty 
pilfering goes on. In Tenimber a pair of stock- 
ings disappeared, a theft from which but small 
advantage could have been derived, for to wear 
them would have been to proclaim the thief s 
guilt. The loss we most mourned was a large 
knife which had been H.'s constant companion 
during his travels in the archipelago. It had 
been given him by his friend, Mr Ross, in the 
Keeling Islands, and had served him in all 
sorts of work, from hewing his way in a Su- 
matran forest to carving a fowl. The very 



214 AMBOINA. 

last of our knives for domestic use was stolen 
on the day of leaving by one of the crowd, 
who stuck it in his hip -cloth with such a 
well - assumed air of unconcern, that we let 
him off with it rather than affront him. 

It is a great pleasure to be again in a 
civilised dwelling, enjoying the society of 
friends, and having proper food. Amboina has 
a pleasant little social circle : besides the Eu- 
ropean ofl&cers and ofl&cials stationed here, not 
a few have made choice of the island to retire 
to, because of its salubrious climate, and the 
comparative cheapness of living. There is 
amusement without dissipation ; to the studi- 
ous there is ample leisure for study, only 
perhaps the tide of life is too stagnant for 
natures disposed to lapse into the indolent 
routine of tropical life. 

We number amongst our friends Mr Justice 
and Mrs Van Deventer, a young couple about 
a year out from Holland, and full of patriot- 
ism, though 

" par r^tude 
Citoyens de tous les lieux." 

Enthusiastic over their own literature, to that 
rich store they have added a familiar knowledge 
of ours. It was a happy surprise to find our 



SOCIETY. 215 

classic authors in the original ranged on their 
bookshelves, and themselves conversant with 
them all, able to bring up in discussion the 
beautiful imaginations of George Eliot, and to 
quote the noblest examples of English poetry. 
These friends never cease to mourn that they 
did not know us when we lived so uncomfort- 
ably in Amboina on our first arrival, — a regret 
which we heartily share. They occupy an ideal 
house at the rear of the doctor's, where we now 
spend many happy hours. They are accom- 
plished musicians, and join heartily in the musi- 
cal gatherings held one evening a- week by our 
host, a most gifted amateur, whose love of music 
disputes his passion for natural science. Weak 
as I am from fever, the long walks I enjoyed in 
Amboina some months ago are now quite im- 
possible ; but it is very pleasant to sit in the ver- 
andah with my hostess and our common friend 
Mrs Van Deventer in the cool evening hour, or 
pace the sward in front of the house, listening to 
strains from the best masters in duet from the 
doctor's piano and Mr Van Deventer's 'cello. 
Dr Machik has himself instructed, with in- 
finite pains, his elder daughter Irma, who in- 
herits her father's talent in some measure, and, 
although only a child of twelve, can sing in her 



216 HOUSEKEEPING IN INSULINDE. 

sweet treble the whole of the soprano airs of 
operas such as Mignon and Lucia di Lammer- 
moor, as well as of the most famous oratorios. 

It would be unthankful if I did not mention 
to you the courteous attentions of Colonel 
Dimini, commandant of the troops, who has 
presented us with an interesting ethnographical 
collection from the island of Ceram ; also the 
friendly welcome always accorded us in the 
homes of Major Van der Weide and the senior 
judge. 

Housekeeping in the Indies is, as a whole, ex- 
pensive. Although market produce is cheaper 
in Amboina than in large centres, tinned meat 
and other kinds of preserved food are very dear, 
since they have to be brought such a distance. 
Fowls and eggs have a large place in domestic 
cookery, and the abundant supply of choice fish 
in the island aids housekeeping greatly. A 
bullock is slaughtered every day for the use of , 
the troops, the officers and high officials being 
first served ; but the animals are small, and the 
flesh is not like the juicy beef-steaks of English 
meat. Potatoes are very dear, but are in daily 
use : they are brought from the highlands of 
Java and Timor. Good vegetables of other sorts 
are, however, generally procurable, and the 



DOMESTIC LIFE. 217 

young Indian corn, so sweet and tender even 
raw, is served in various forms, each more deli- 
cious than the other. Fruits, too, never fail, so 
that, gastronomically, Amboina is not badly off. 

Domestic life, too, is made very pleasant by 
the employment of numerous servants, some six 
or eight being thought necessary in an ordinary 
household, and where there are children, there 
are nurses besides. The expenses of house- 
keeping really neutralise any benefit from the 
large salaries which officials enjoy, but it is 
doubtless necessary to live comfortably in the 
exhausting climate. 

Washing forms a heavy item of household ex- 
penditure. I blame Europeans themselves for 
offering no resistance to the system of each 
month s washing being retained in the huts of 
the washmen until they call for that of the 
next. An enormous quantity of articles is re- 
quired; the accumulation for one month is in- 
credible — for people are very luxurious in the 
matter of fresh garments — and they suffer 
great deterioration not only from the destructive 
manner of washing, but from mildew contracted 
through being carelessly left damp. But there 
is a more provoking evil. One morning I saw 
Mrs Machik's hahoo crushing the articles counted 



218 ''reception" of infants. 

out. On my inquiring the reason, it was ex- 
plained that the lending out of the linen of 
European families to half-castes and natives for 
great occasions is quite a trade. The linen cast 
aside for washing is scarcely soiled, and if not 
rendered unfit for . wear by crushing, it will 
surely be lent out for a few cents to some dark 
youth, to gratify his vanity by appearing among 
his comrades with a white shirt. A lady who 
was invited to a native feast, to her surprise 
found the table decked with one of her own 
finest tablecloths. 

By 6 A.M. most mornings we have a " recep- 
tion " of infants, brought by their baboos, and 
accompanied by the elder children of the family 
— fair, sweet little things, with faces blanched 
by the tropical climate almost to the whiteness 
of their own frocks. It sometimes happens that 
in the same family, when one parent has a little 
colour, one child is blond-haired and as fair as a 
lily, while its brother or sister has jet-black hair 
and skin as swarthy as a full-blooded native's. 

H. went to the island of Bourou within a few 
days of our arrival here, leaving me behind, since 
I was quite unfit to travel. Just before he left 
we had the opportunity, through the kindness of 
our hostess, of seeing a native wedding, and I 



A NATIVE WEDDING. 219 

must give you some account of the curious and 
interesting scene. 

The bride is the only child of a native rajah, 
while the bridegroom, an Amboinese native also, 
aflfecting European manners and dress, is a clerk 
in Government employ. Three different even- 
ings we had to give up to witnessing this cele- 
bration. The first evening we ladies went in 
walking-dress to the house which was to be occu- 
pied by the young couple. We were received, 
according to their etiquette, by the bridegroom 
and his mother, and shown the numerous and 
elegant gifts which had been presented to the 
bride by friends and acquaintances. It seems 
this giving of elegant presents is in imitation of 
European practice, and many who can ill afford 
it determinedly vie with their neighbours. In 
the course of a few months all would be sold by 
the recipients to defray the expenses of the 
wedding. While we were there, a seemingly 
endless stream of natives of the humbler class 
poured in, to the accompaniment of a rude native 
band, bearing in trays upon their heads their 
own offerings of confectionery, fruit, and simple 
products, all neatly covered with snowy napkins. 
The bride we did not see, she being still busy 
with the preparations at her father s house, but 



220 A NATIVE WEDDING. 

we were shown the bridal chamber, which quite 
took us aback. Flowing lace curtains and clouds 
of coloured tarlatan spread half over this room of 
bamboo walls, while pure white flowers wreathed 
the mirrors and the many pretty ornaments, such 
as adorn a European lady's bedroom. 

The ceremony took place at noon next day 
before the civil magistrate, and about seven 
o'clock we attended, in evening dress, the recep- 
tion given by the bride and bridegroom in the 
house of the bride's father. They stood in front 
of an elegantly adorned sofa, on an elaborate mat, 
and shook hands with their visitors, who repre- 
sented almost the entire population of Amboina. 
Europeans, natives, both high and low, along 
with the princes of an imperial house suf- 
fering banishment in Amboina, and Chinese of 
high rank, pressed forward to off*er congratula- 
tions in the same grave manner in which they 
were received. The bride wore a rich white 
satin dress, made in the old Dutch style, with 
all the detail of gloves, fan, &c., while her breast 
and hair were covered with diamonds and other 
jewels in native setting. Her coiffure was ex- 
traordinary, and rather unbecoming, but her 
tout ensemble was very neat indeed, and one can 
imagine the pains and scheming used by her 



A NATIVE WEDDING. 221 

maidens ere she got decked out in a costume in 
which she would probably never in her life again 
appear. 

The scene was indeed a brilliant one. In it 
mingled the rich brocades of wealthy Chinese ; 
the bright-coloured robes, with wonderful em- 
broideries, and gay turbans of Arabs, whose flow- 
ing white skirts relieved a striking costume ; the 
gold and silver worked garments of princes and 
wealthy natives, who glittered besides from head 
to foot with jewels ; the fresh toilets of Euro- 
peans ; the uniforms of officers ; and the sombre 
black of civilians. The walls were decorated with 
shields and spears arranged in neat designs, and 
flags and gay -coloured cloths depended from 
every corner of vantage. 

As on the previous evening at the other house, 
we were, at frequent intervals, offered tea, coflfee, 
and all sort of spirituous refreshment, with delicate 
confections and delicious cakes. The relatives 
and particular friends are entertained on this 
evening to a feast provided by the bride's father. 

On the third evening our party was again 
wending to the same house, where we were to 
see a special feature of native weddings — the 
bride dancing for money. There she was, look- 
ing much more at home in sarong and hahia than 



222 BRIDE DANCING FOR MONEY. 

in her satin dress, working her way up a long 
line as in a country dance. When she has 
danced some time with her partner, he advances, 
and neatly throws his handkerchief round her 
neck. She dances on, as if unconscious ; but 
shortly one of two maids in attendance draws it 
away. She undoes the knot in the corner, and 
hands the sum of money enclosed to a male 
attendant, who writes the amount on a slate, 
and passes the money to the second of the hand- 
maidens. Meanwhile the bride dances on with 
her vis-a-vis, and the handkerchief having been 
replaced on her shoulders, she draws it off, and 
gracefully casts it over her partner's neck, draw- 
ing him towards her with it to receive her kiss 
of thanks. The amount of the gift has been 
called out by the male attendant on writing it 
down, and the dancers adjudge the number of 
kisses that it is worth. When one partner has 
retired, the bride passes on to the next, to repeat 
the same performance. Later in the evening, 
when we looked into the ball-room before going, 
she still bravely kept her post, though seemingly 
tired to death. Through her efforts the expenses 
of the celebration of her wedding would be 
largely covered : we have since heard that she 
received over £100 that evening. 



DANCING. 223 

All the time she is dancing, the bridegroom 
"^continues a shuffling pas seul just behind her, 
holding in his hands wine and a glass, which he 
oflfers to each partner as he retires, without ceas- 
ing to move in time with the dancers. Coteries 
of natives of the humblest class, servants of the 
household and dependents of the bride's father, 
leap and bob around the skirts of the line of the 
** country dance," and sing improvised verses 
in laudation of the bride and bridegroom, or in 
reference to any noticeable person present, their 
sallies being received with shouts of applause. 
Europeans took little part in the dancing this 
evening, contenting themselves with looking on, 
since the occasion was really for the humbler 
class, who were later to partake of a special feast, 
already spread in an adjoining apartment. 

The Amboinese are passionately fond of danc- 
ing, and are as graceful as they are expert in all 
European figures. The rich native women and 
many half-castes were present in their handsomest 
sarongs and daintiest kahiaSy with white stock- 
ings and gold-heeled " slops," and it quite fas- 
cinated us to watch how cleverly they could 
circle the room without once dropping the 
shoe, which grasps the foot only by the points 
of the toes. Any one trying this for the first 



224 MARRIAGE EXTRAVAGANCE. 

time could not wheel once without standing shoe- 
less. 

A very free use of powder is aflfected by ladies 
of colour, which has a ludicrous eflfect on the 
dark complexion : it looked just as if they had 
been making pastry before leaving home, and 
had inadvertently let some of the flour get on 
their cheeks. Not a few adopt for such occa- 
sions European toilets, and they look very 
pretty indeed in pale blues and pinks. 

One cannot help feeling that much of all this 
festivity is a mistake : the expenses incurred 
are far above the means of the parties respon- 
sible, and the eflfect on the Amboinese character 
is not beneficial. The value of time and money 
is depreciated in their eyes, and after a week of 
dissipation, and even rioting, they are less in- 
clined than ever for work. 

For some weeks there has been little else in 
the children's minds than the visit of Santa 
Glaus on the evening of the 6th December. We 
all met to receive him in the club-house, a build- 
ing in which there is ample room for such a 
crowded entertainment. Santa Glaus came from 
the fort over the plain, in pretty much the same 
garb as Father Christmas, attended by a guard of 
soldiers in torchlight procession. He mounted 



SANTA CLAUS, 225 

a platform, and after a solemn speech to the 
awestruck children, in the course of which they 
were again told what had been reiterated in 
every household for months previously — ^that he 
had no gifts for any but good little boys and 
girls — he descended and mingled in the crowd. 
To his particular question some little fellow with 
the most earnest manner would declare that he 
had been indeed a good boy during the year; 
and tiny maidens would peep up from hiding 
their faces in their mother's skirts to receive 
their share of bon-bons from the great bag hung 
round the neck of Santa Glaus. The little folks 
of Amboina must all be good, for before they 
went home one and all received a pretty gift, — 
secured to them, however, by tickets purchased 
previously by kind relatives. 

We do not hear so much in our country of 
Saint Nicholas, or, to use the form initiated by 
the Americans, Santa Glaus. To my friends the 
Van Deventers I owe the information I now 
oflfer you, in the supposition that it may be as 
new to you as to me. With all Teuton nations 
the night of 6th December, the name-day of the 
good Saint Nicholas, is the feast for children par 
excellence. He was a bishop who lived in Asia 
Minor in the fourth century, and who was famous 



226 THE children's FEAST. 

for his love of mankind, and particularly of chil- 
dren. By them his name is at once reverenced 
and feared, for from their earliest years they are 
impressed with the idea that he is cognisant of 
their conduct, and will award them accordingly 
on his yearly visit. 

Some thirty years ago there was a disposition 
in Holland among certain parties, doubtless under 
ecclesiastical influence, to substitute Christmas- 
day as the children's feast ; but the bulk of the 
population cling to the old tradition, and it is 
probable that for many years yet the kind saint 
will meet his little friends on the evening of 
6th December. 

On 13th December H. returned from Bourou. 
He had accomplished a journey into the interior, 
only three times attempted in two hundred years, 
with results which were satisfactory in many 
senses ; but he had learnt unmistakably that 
further work in the Moluccas under the present 
Resident was vain. We bethought us of the 
invitation of the Governor of Portuguese Timor 
to visit the island under him, and decided to 
leave by the steamer in which H. had just come. 
Two busy days of packing, a sorrowful leave- 
taking from many friends, whom the strong 



DEPARTURE FOR TIMOR. 227 

afternoon heat did not deter from coming with 
us to the wharf to wave adieu, and we were 
steaming once more straight for Banda, happy 
recollections mingling with the sadness of fare- 
well. 



228 



CHAPTER XVII. 

BANDA TIMOR — DILLY FBVER CHURCH AND MONASTERY — 

THE CONTENT " VERY DISTINGUISHED SOCIETY." 

26^ December, 

I HAVE hitherto spoken only pleasant things of 
Banda. I regret that I saw that, on this last 
visit, which will ever intrude upon more agree- 
able associations. As usual we lay two days at 
Banda, and as usual paid a visit to Bin Saleh's 
shop, to see what birds might have come by 
trading prahus from New Guinea since our last 
visit. It was the sunset hour, and in front of 
a house in the street parallel with the shore, a 
comely Chinese matron, seated behind a strong 
grating, wajs serving a dark syrup to the most 
emaciated, weary-looking human beings I have 
ever seen. It was opium. What a miserable 
infatuation! — and the wretched creatures could 
not oflFer even poor Maggie Mucklebackit's ex- 
tenuation, when, " deein' o' cauld," and suffering 



DILLY. 229 

want of fire, food, and clothing, as well as a 
" sair heart," she found consolation in a " dram." 

Four days after we were drawing into Dilly 
harbour, in front of the bare rugged hills we 
had last seen six months previously, and soon 
moored so close to the wooden pier, extending 
from the palace steps, that we could see our 
friends looking out for us in the verandah. 

The joy of our meeting was damped by the 
too evident signs that they had one and all suf- 
fered greatly from the climate. The little Marie, 
who used to prattle so prettily on the voyage 
out, had not long survived the deadly influence, 
and lay in the Santa Cruz. The boys were thin 
and sickly, so diff'erent from the merry lads we 
had last seen; and all wore a wretched pallor 
which it scarcely needed the recital we listened 
to, as we sat together, to explain. 

But though deploring that we had joined 
them to run the risk of malarial sickness, our 
friends made us heartily welcome amongst them, 
and apartments were at once arranged for us 
under their hospitable roof. Weakened already 
by almost continuous fever, I dreaded unspeak- 
ably the further suflFering which the condition of 
my companions showed me was not to be evaded. 
With my urging to second his own desires, H. 



230 THE PALAZZIO. 

lost no time in inquiring how soon we should 
be able to go inland to the highlands. His 
Excellency arranged an escort for the next 
morning, and along with his eldest son, who is 
Government secretary, H. set out to select a 
site for a hut on the hills. They brought back 
a glowing account of the exhilarating atmos- 
phere and the magnificent view to be had from 
a height of 2000 feet, and a bouquet of sweetly 
scented roses gathered on the spot added con- 
firmation to their descriptions of the charms of 
the place. It was some days until arrangements 
could be made and men collected to go to com- 
mence building. These we spent happily with 
our friends, resuming the pleasant intercourse 
of the ship, and with much to tell on either 
side of the time between, as we sat out on the 
wooden pier in the moonlight, with the water 
lapping soothingly on the steps. 

The Palazzio is a long one-story building at 
the western extremity of the town, only about 
thirty yards back from the margin of the sea. 
Despite its rather neglected surroundings, it is 
a not altogether undesirable place in which to 
dwell, and there is ample accommodation for a 
large family party. The long dining-room runs 
behind a series of apartments which open into 



TOWN OF DILLY. 231 

it as well as into the front verandah. The ver- 
andah extends the length of the building but for 
two projecting wings, which are the boudoirs of 
Madame and her daughter-in-law respectively. 
One beautiful apartment is seldom opened, the 
Hall of State, where at one end is a chair for 
the King or his representative on a velvet-floored 
dais under a rich silken canopy, above which a 
large painted portrait of his Majesty looks down. 
The town of Dilly runs quite a mile along the 
shore, and has a rather imposing aspect on ap- 
proaching from the sea, but a walk through its 
streets leaves a depressing effect on the spirits. 
It is not a lively place : no traveller will of 
choice visit Dilly, for its reputation as the un- 
healthiest port of the archipelago is not unde- 
served, and the report that one night passed in 
its miasmal atmosphere may result fatally deters 
any who would, except of necessity, go there. 
Those who are appointed here make up their 
minds, shortly after arrival, that they will go 
as soon as possible : what matters it that your 
house be pretty, or your garden a feast for the 
eyes ? Fever-stricken people and places are re- 
cognisable at a glance; the pale faces and en- 
during air of the residents explain the lifeless 
town and dilapidated buildings. 



232 DILLY. 

By streets lined with trees you pass on right 
and left the hospital, the fort, the prison, the 
pretty church, the Government oflSces, the cus- 
tom-house, and here and there dwellings of the 
Europeans and the wealthiest natives. On these 
merge the shops of the prosperous Chinese and 
Arab traders, whose adaptability to any climate 
permits them fair health even in Dilly, and 
round whose neat dwellings the graceful vine 
thrives on arched trellises. Coteries of native 
huts dot the environs, and there is a village for 
the Indians from Goa, who have gradually found 
their way here in the intercourse of this depend- 
ency of Portugal with its possession on the coast 
of India ; while another in an opposite direction 
is specially for the improvident rollicking sons 
of Africa, who, in service of their masters, or 
perhaps in banishment, rear their descendants 
and end their days far from the shores of their 
native Mozambique. 

The roads, except just within the town, are 
unfit to be driven over, broken bridges and the 
devastations of floods rendering this mode of 
passage out of the question. The Timor ponies 
are very fleet, but very naughty, and evidently 
consider a carriage behind them an indignity to 
be resented by the most intractable behaviour. 



TIMOK. 233 

But there are sweet glades and gentle slopes 
and bits of picturesque scenery within riding 
distance, if you do not object to the roughness 
of a dry river-bed, and pell-mell galloping in 
pursuit of a native guide, who ignores your 
prayer for a more leisurely progression, and 
speeds ever ahead on his saddleless steed with 
legs and arms flying out like the sails of a 
windmill. 

Timor is the least remunerative of all Portu- 
gal's dependencies, because its resources are not 
developed, nor trade in its products encouraged, 
and there seems no inclination to venture the 
necessary outlay. No more enlightened direc- 
tion could be desired than that of the urbane 
and energetic Governor, our host: he has a 
scheme to plant the swamp with cinchona, and 
projects the removal of sundry hindrances to 
Dilly's prosperity. But what can any one do 
without funds ? 

Dinner here is at 4 p.m., perhaps rather a try- 
ing arrangement in the climate, for at 3.30, 
when we go to dress, it is the hottest hour of the 
day. At this hospitable board, where many 
guests are welcomed, the meal is often prolonged 
till nearly 6 o'clock ; then the carriage is waiting, 
and there is just time to drive rapidly through 



234 SICKNESS. 

the town and come trotting home by the sea- 
coast road as the red sun dips behind the 
horizon. 

It is by no means unusual for three or four of 
the family to be absent from table through sick- 
ness. 

" Where is Henrique this morning ? " 

**He stays in the verandah, madame ; a fever 
attack is coming on." 

" Is Mademoiselle I unable to come to 

breakfast ? " we would inquire. 

" She is still so weak from yesterday's fever 
that she cannot join us." 

A servant is sent to tell Senhor Fontes that 
breakfast is now served. 

** Senhor Fontes cannot come ; he has already 
strong fever." 

As we sit in the verandah in the forenoon 
sewing or reading, one will suddenly utter a cry, 
and rise from her chair. A glance at the 
blanched face, blue lips, and bloodless fingers 
explains the cause ; and if the attack is slight 
the suflferer will rejoin us at dinner, feeble and 
pale, to sip a little chicken-broth. 

No one makes any fuss when another is pros- 
trate — it is the exception to be free ; but some- 
times attacks come with such severity that the 



THE CHURCH. 235 

shadow of death hovers over the household. 
One morning Louis, the eldest of the boys, was 
talking with the others in high spirits, when he 
suddenly fell back. He lay for days unconscious, 
while every possible remedy by blistering and 
otherwise was tried ; but it was many weeks ere 
he was able to move, partly from the serious 
nature of his attack, and perhaps as much from 
the severe wounds caused in the eflforts to re- 
store him, such wounds being most obstinate 
in healing in this climate. 

The church, monastery, and convent of Dilly 
are the only buildings in faultless repair. One 
must know the people and climate fully to com- 
prehend the patience and endurance that have 
been called forth to eflFect the civilising influence 
which undoubtedly rewards their eflforts. 

The altars and internal decorations of the 
church are exceedingly pretty ; and but that the 
drive to morning mass was through scents and 
sounds which bear to the senses that meed of 
sweetness peculiar to the tropics — but that the 
lace-trimmed surplices of the lads who wait at 
the altar are incongruous with the bright-col- 
oured sarongs, which do not cover their bare 
black feet — but that it is a dusky native that 
creeps up the aisle to confessional, — one might 



236 FEAST DAYS. 

forget the fact of being so very far from the 
cradle of Roman Catholicism and the currents 
of civilisation. 

To think that these sweet-voiced choristers, 
who, till they became students at the monastery 
school, lived in savage freedom in the wild 
mountains in the interior, chant the Latin 
liturgy thus unfalteringly 1 

Nothing could be more picturesque than the 
scene on feast-days. To the right of the aisle 
the ladies of our party in graceful mantilla ; to 
the left, officers in epaulette and decoration min- 
gling with the few European residents of Dilly in 
sombre black ; the band of the troops standing 
between in gay uniform, with their glistening in- 
struments ready to be upraised at the elevation of 
the Host ; farther back, in a pewless space, native 
dames in smothering veils and ten-width black 
silk gowns, who balloon their skirts on gaudy mats 
spread by gaily dressed attendants, who squat 
on the corners to fan their lady; behind these 
humble native women, seated on the bare flags, 
nursing their infants and keeping their little 
ones orderly ; near the open door, stretching his 
neck that he may lose none of the spectacle, 
towers a beaming-faced negro, in pure white 
jacket ; leaning on the pillars of the porch is a 



CHRISTMAS BVE. 237 

native rajah from the interior, in all his savage 
splendour, come to look on the forms of the faith 
he has ostensibly embraced but cannot mentally 
grasp ; and out in the sunshine, under shadowy 
hibiscus trees, a medley crowd of all the nation- 
alities Dilly can boast. 

On Christmas Eve we attended midnight 
mass to celebrate the birth at Bethlehem, and 
viewed a somewhat similar scene under the weird 
charm of brilliant moonlight. That I may not 
weary you with description, I shall only momen- 
tarily hold before you one or two vignettes, 
which remain more clearly impressed on my 
mind than others. The priests in gorgeous robes 
moving to and fro before the illuminated altars ; 
the mass of human beings crowding the grey 
stone building out to the door, where they were 
better individualised by the inshining moon- 
beams than by the sparsely scattered lamps ; 
intervals when we retired from our place in the 
nuns* gallery, away from light and sound to the 
cool gardens surrounding the edifice, where in 
the fresh night wind the palms gently nodded 
their plumes, and the broad - leaved bananas 
seemed ethereal in the fairy light ; and that, to 
me, strange and striking moment, when at mid- 
night a small image of the Infant was lifted from 



238 THE MONASTERY. 

its tiny mosquito-curtained bed, and held up to 
be kissed by all who would. 

The monastery is by a long way the most in- 
viting residence in the place. It is away back 
behind the swamp plain, and about 500 feet 
above sea - level, at the foot of the abrupt 
range of the Tiring Rocks. The priests are 
greatly beloved by the people, and are indefati- 
gable in their work amongst them. In a morn- 
ing Walk you are sure to meet several of them 
cantering along on their small ponies, with the 
long black skirts of their coats floating behind 
them, as they go to visit the sick and the dying, 
or hasten to some tiny outlying edifice for the 
benefit of those who will not come to the im- 
posing church in the town. Lahany is a pictur- 
esque spot by a foaming stream. The priests' 
neat domicile occupies the centre of a square of 
well-kept houses for the boys, vines flourish 
on the walls, and the garden is fruitful and gay. 
Over a himdred boys are being educated, and 
the result is most encouraging, some being such 
apt pupils and developing such qualities, that 
they go out as missionaries to other possessions 
of Portugal. 

The site of the convent has not been so for- 
tunately chosen : it is right down on the shore, 



THE CONVENT. 239 

in the very midst of the miasma, and the sisters 
as well as the children suffer much from fever. 
One pretty young sister has just died from it. 
One cannot help admiring their noble self-denial 
and courage in performing duty under such dis- 
piriting influences. Their dress must cause them 
extreme discomfort. They wear the identical 
stuff robes imperative in a temperate climate, 
with the close hoods and heavy veils ; and since 
their life is one of constant toil, cooking, wash- 
ing, teaching in crowded rooms, it is difficult to 
understand how they are able to endure the 
strain. The building is so neat and well-ordered, 
and the large company of girls, from about four- 
teen to infants just walking, owe everything to 
their care. Some are very intractable, and long 
ever, like caged birds, for their homes far inland 
and their old free life. Some are indeed sur- 
prisingly clever. One child had just finished a 
beautiful piece of work, raised flowers in coloured 
silks on white satin, for a priest's robe; and 
some lace for the altar, as well as some exquisite 
embroideries for church use, were shown to us, 
all done by the children. 

There is no school besides these ; but the want * 
is not greatly felt, for there are very few Euro- 
peans except officials, and because of the climate 



240 *'VERY DISTINGUISHED SOCIETY.'' 

these do not bring their families when ordered 
to Dilly. The social advantages are therefore 
very small, but the town can boast some remark- 
able personages. Madame amused us greatly 
one evening by counting them oflF on the leaves 
of her fan. " There is a man who was banished 
here for stirring up insurrection ; he with the 
light coat, whom we passed when diiving, mur- 
dered his wife; the middle one of those three 
walking on the beach caused the death of sixteen 
people ; and there is another here who commit- 
ted an extraordinary forgery. Id on rencontre 
une socUtS trhs distingu4ey The penalty of 
crimes which in the mother country merit 
capital punishment, is frequently paid simply 
in banishment to some distant dependency, 
where the perpetrators have at least the miti- 
gation of freedom. But what a living death for 
jBery spirits to wear out life in the exile of 
Dilly! Such a fate seems the rejfinement of 
torture. 



241 



CHAPTER XVIIL 

PORTUGUESE TIMOR SERVANTS ^JOURNEY TO THE HILLS-*- 

UP THE TIRING ROCKS — OUR HUT THE HOUSE-WARMING 

EXPLORATIONS — THE RAINY SEASON SCARCITY OP 

POOD GOMA, THE INTERPRETER VISITORS — COFFEE — 

PETROLEUM STORES. 

2d January. 

It is strange to hear no Malay in Timor. This 
language is heard otherwise all over the civilised 
archipelago ; but natives here must learn the 
language of the possessors if they will have any 
contact with them. Our friends have consider- 
able diflficulty in making their wants intelligible 
to their servants. The circumstance affects us 
too very directly. Our Amboina servants who 
had been with us in Timor-laut said they would 
willingly accompany us to any other island of 
the archipelago except Timor, "where their 
language was not spoken, aud the natives were 
so different." I fear we shall have difficulty in 

Q 



242 SERVANTS. 

procuring servants; the few capable domestics 
in the place have been brought from a distance, 
and are too much valued to be parted with. At 
the Palazzio they have a good head-man for the 
table, who is also baker; and a splendid cook, 
a handsome African, who is also hairdresser and 
barber. The latter takes the whole management 
of household catering, and drills the fresh relays 
of untutored natives, who, as part of their 
rajahs' tribute, must become menials in the 
Governor's dwelling. Bahoos are not to be had, 
and were it not for good old Jacinthe, Madame's 
faithful Portuguese maid, the ladies and children 
would be badly off. 

We had to consider ourselves fortunate in 
securing the service of two brothers, Indian 
men of Goa, — Pirea the elder, as hunter, and 
Anea, a delicate lad of eighteen, as domestic. 
Neither had as yet been bound to service, and 
we are doubtful how they will bear the restraint; 
so our chances of comfort are not great. 

One of the two came down every day bearing 
messages and bouquets of roses from the absentee 
on the hills, and taking back the food which was 
kindly prepared at the Palazzio. On the fifth 
day came word to me to be ready to start on 
the morrow ; the house was not yet finished, 



JOURNEY TO THE HILLS. 243 

but at my urgent request H, consented to let 
me join him, now that the roof was partly on. 
He joined us at breakfast next day, and early 
in the afternoon, while the sun was still very 
powerful, we set oflF for Fatunaba. Follow us 
riding through the tree-shaded streets, out over 
the great stretch of green plain that offers no 
manner of protection from the jBerce rays of the 
sun, to the grateful shade of the tall cocoa-nut 
and broad-leaved banana trees amid which clus- 
ters the African village ; and on between odorous 
hedges to a lovely bit of verdure, where gay 
butterflies flit among scenting shrubs, and birds 
flutter high above among lofty branches. 

Then down the bank of a river-bed to pick 
our way among boulders and other obstacles, a 
scramble up the opposite bank, and we were 
traversing a mile of sandy, rocky soil, which, 
baked in the long day's sun, reflected its heat 
with sickening strength, while the slanting rays 
themselves fell full on our backs. Before us to the 
right, on the other side of a gorge, was the last 
outpost of civilisation — ^the monastery school of 
Lahany, and passing this we were at the base of 
the steep spurs called Fatunaba, or Tiring Eocks. 

Some sparse shade there was as we wound 
round the face of a precipitous cliff; and when 



244 THE TIRING ROCKS. 

we had emerged from the bed of a torrent, where 
the ponies slid in the slime and slipped on the 
smooth stones, the day had somewhat declined 
— a needed relief, for real effort now awaited us. 
Without daring a pause, lest the animals should 
lose the forward impetus as they panted up- 
wards, leaping and clambering, with only an 
occasional straggling tree-root or a jutting rock 
to afford foothold, for half an hour we mounted 
that torrent -washed steep, keeping our seats 
only by a jBrm grasp on the mane, and longing 
for the level. It came at length, a smooth and 
green plateau, which after a few hundred yards 
narrowed into a path by the flank of a deep 
glen, so broken that a slip over the precipice 
seemed inevitable. But we passed that danger, 
and mounted out of another gorge to face the 
sharpest ascent we had encountered. H, dis- 
mounted and kept by my bridle, encouraging 
me with the assurance that this was the last 
really hard part of the way. With a grateful 
feeling towards the good little steeds, which 
seemed as much at home on such steeps as a 
chamois in its wild native haunts, we finally 
ascended a gradual slope, with time to look 
around on the repetition on either hand of spur 
and valley and village cluster reposing in the 



THE ASCENT. 245 

soft evening light, and back to the distant town, 
bathed in crimson hues from the setting sun, 
till we had again to give attention to the 
path : jBrst a water- course, with rocks bared 
and polished by torrents, where the ponies had 
to leap from ledge to ledge, and then a passage 
through dense forest, where we had to be pre- 
pared to urge them over a fallen tree, or to 
lift our legs over their necks as they pressed 
between stems scarcely wide enough apart for 
them to squeeze through. 

" Why do people live in Dilly when it is so 
sickly? Why do they not make dwellings on 
the hills?" were questions I had often pro- 
pounded to H. I have a satisfactory answer 
now. It would be easier to plant the swamp 
than to make a good road to the mountains. 

When the gathering shadows made the way 
dim, we turned aside from the spur we had been 
climbing, brushing apart with uplifted arms the 
tall grass which bent over the path from the wall- 
like bank on the left, and soon came upon a 
plateau nestling on the shoulder of the hill. Here 
was my new abode, though it was too dark to 
see more than its outline. After an inspection 
by lamplight and a make-shift meal, I was ready 
for my couch under the only roofed-in comer, 



246 OUR HUT IN THE HILLS. 

and retired with high hopes for the morrow. 
Perhaps it was the keen air at this elevation 
that enabled me to enjoy refreshing sleep in 
spite of the protracted talking and unceasing 
coughing of the large company of natives who 
occupied the verandah, to be in readiness to con- 
tinue housebuilding early next day. 

The half had not been told 1 With the first 
faint appearance of the dawn I was on the 
verandah, waiting the withdrawal of the cur- 
tains of night. With the marvellous quickness 
of the awakening tropical day, the brilliant 
morning sun lit up the scene, and I looked 
down the steep valley at my feet, away over 
the forest and the green plain and the town, 
out to the vast stretch of sea, set with the 
prominent isle of Kambing, and enclosed by two 
high promontories, the abruptness of whose 
outline was broken by trending islets. H. led 
me to the top of the steep ridge against which 
our little homestead nestles, whence the view 
is still wider; but I agree with him that the 
outlook from our own verandah is the more 
pleasing, the valley straight before us with 
sjonmetrical enclosing ridges forming a shapely 
picture. Then we turned downwards past the 
rose-bush on the way to the stream, brushing 



VIEW FROM OUR POST. 247 

through a narrow path between luxuriantly 
healthy coffee-trees covered with forming fruit 
(I have just missed seeing the blossom, which is 
lovely against the burnished leaves), and coming 
out on a small cascade of clear cold water under 
a canopy of the tallest trees I have ever seen. 

The slopes by the path to the stream are cov- 
ered with pine -apples, which will be ripe in 
about a month. It seems this is a garden 
(mostly of nature's tending to all appearance) 
belonging to a well-to-do native in the town ; 
and when the products are in season his servants 
come to gather them in, and lodge in a wretched 
hut which stands by the path. A creature more 
like a monkey than a human being — an old, 
shrivelled, and very small woman on closer in- 
spection — sat under the sloping roof, devouring 
an unripe mango. She is, it seems, a sort of 
watcher, who lets the owner know when produce 
is ready for market, and lives here alone. So 
much for our next neighbour. 

But there was still work to do ; the house was 
far from finished. The one disagreeable element 
in all my delight was the presence of that wild 
intractable set of builders. The hut is really 
very unsatisfactory. The interpreter failed to 
come, and as the men do not understand a word 



248 THE WORKMEN. 

H. says, they scarcely lay a stick as he means it 
to go ; so that in spite of all his efforts the house 
is very one-sided. It is on a slight slope ; the 
floor touches the ground at the back, and the 
fore floor-posts of the verandah in front are 
raised over three feet. The half of the roof 
sloping back covers the three rooms, and the fore 
half the verandah. The arrangement is exceed- 
ingly handy ; we really live in the verandah, only 
retiring into the more shady rooms when the sun 
is in its strength. I hope I do not mislead you 
by this language ; the thing is only a miserable 
shanty, fit for the last days of a worn-out negro. 
It was not till three days after I came that the 
house was habitably finished ; then we dismissed 
the men, unable to bear their presence and the 
ceaseless babel any longer. By night and by 
day twenty-three uncouth mountain -men were 
with us. They worked by fits and starts ; half 
were always sitting preparing mouthfuls of betel 
and sin, and to my unspeakable disgust, and in 
spite of every sign of displeasure on my part, 
they squirted the red juice over the whole walls 
and floor. It was always late at night before they 
ceased talking and wrangling, and some had the 
most dreadful bronchial coughs, which towards 
morning got worse and worse. How thankful 



A HOUSE-WARMING. 249 

we were to let the house go without necessary 
finishing — ^without even a door — to have it any 
way to ourselves. On the morning of the fourth 
day, when at 10 o'clock they had still done 
nothing, we told them they must go ; the house 
was finished, we said. We paid them, and ex- 
pected they would instantly depart. But no: 
afternoon found them still seated, chewing and 
squirting. We could not understand what they 
waited for, and they would not heed our signs 
to go ; but about 5 p.m. a shout of joy, which 
greeted the appearance of a man descending the 
slope with a pig on his shoulders, explained all. 
We gathered that they would inaugurate our 
installation with a feast. 
, Oh dear! such guests for a house-warming! 
They commenced to cut up the animal on the 
verandah, and made fire to cook it at the steps ; 
but the sight was so sickening that we gave un- 
mistakable signs that the butchery must not be 
carried on before our eyes. We gave them a 
second present of gin, and though they still 
grumbled that we would not allow them to bring 
luck within our walls, we managed to make them 
go about fifty yards from the verandah to divide 
the spoil, and to disperse to their homes to 
gorge it. 



^50 EXPLORING THE HEIGHTS. 

Large bamboos such as are generally used in 
hut-building are not procurable here — at least 
the men brought only thin ones. The spars are 
very irregular — in bed I can see the sea and the 
ships in the bay ; and we have no door, because 
the posts are so much off the straight that it 
will not hang, so we have contented ourselves 
with a curtain. 

The first Sunday after our arrival we set off 
to explore the heights above our dwelling. 
Starting, this time on foot, as soon as it was 
light enough to pick our way, we mounted the 
very steep path to the same spur we climbed in 
coming — the only open way to the heights. 
The road is pretty much the same as I have de- 
scribed, only without such deep gorges. Every 
hundred yards revealed a wider stretch of coast- 
line and a greater expanse of sea. What en- 
couragement to proceed ! What reward for the 
pains 1 The dewy hill-slopes awake to deck them- 
selves in the glistening mantle thrown by the 
urgent sun, — the joyous chorus of the feathered 
tribe fills the heavens, — tiny beauties, bright 
scarlet, glossy black, and quiet grey, delight the 
eye as they flit hither and thither, — a king- 
fisher, so royally blue, shoots athwart the slant- 
ing sunbeams, a gaudy parrot balances on a 



VIEW FROM THE CREST. 251 

swaying branch, and a pure white cockatoo with 
bright yellow crest nestles into the shade of 
some dark stem. 

On we climbed, under tall trees, sparse but 
frequent enough to aflFord shade without imped- 
ing the view, sometimes brushing through grass 
which cut our faces and drenched our gar- 
ments, clambering over fallen trees, leaping 
little chasms, and ever and anon resting to take 
in the magnificent and ever - extending view. 
Plateau succeeds plateau, carpeted with richest 
verdure, from which we frightened herds of goats 
and wUd pigs as we seated ourselves on one of 
the fallen trees to rest our limbs, that ached 
from continuous climbing. But buoyant from 
delight, and exhilarated by the freshness of the 
mountain air, we pressed on till the ascent be- 
came less arduous : stretches of glade, with " tall 
ancestral trees" that might have grown in the 
parks of the "stately homes of England," tempted 
us onward; and then with one other slight efibrt 
we gained the crest. Standing in an atmosphere 
quite keen, the freshest I had breathed since 
entering the tropics, we commanded a view on 
each side which held us dumb with wonder. 
Right before us lay the land of Timor, with its 
curious natural features of sharp-pointed moun- 



252 VIEW FROM THE CREST. 

tain and sudden gorge, lit up by the bright 
morning sun, which revealed, among the wilder- 
ness of dark green forest, fields of pale green 
maize surrounding clusters of huts, and, like 
little specks, the large wallowing-ponds for buf- 
faloes. To the right *'the line of the sea-coast, 
with all its varied curves, indentures, and em- 
bajnnents, swept away from the sight in that 
intricate yet graceful line which the eye loves 
so well to pursue." Sir Walter Scott still further 
accurately describes the Timor coast, though 
speaking of that of Scotland — " It was no less 
relieved in elevation than in outline, the beach 
in some places being edged by steep rocks, and 
in others rising smoothly from the sands in easy 
and swelling slopes." On the other side lay the 
view from our verandah, but here we had another 
thousand feet of vantage. 

Lest the sun should beset us ere we could 
return, we had to hasten away, sorry indeed to 
go, and commenced the descent, collecting a.t 
difierent spots the plants and other treasures 
H. had gathered as we climbed. Down we 
hastened, through the glades, over the springy 
grass of the plateau, on to the steep path. 
Stumbling, slipping, catching with the hands at 
jutting rocks, stajdng the feet on projecting 



FEVER AGAIN. 253 

tree-roots, now tripping, again forced into a 
headlong run to end in an involuntary down- 
sitting, — at length, hot, tired, hungry, we 
reached our hut, where at this lower elevation 
the advancing day made its shelter grateful. 

" We shall go every morning, shall we not ? 
It was like going to service to ascend to Nature's 
Temple with the sound of Dilly church-bells in 
our ears." It was agreed that we should. 

12^^ Fehraary, 

Does the malaria rise even here, to Fatunaba ? 
Or am I only paying the price of the days 
I spent with our friends at the Palazzio until 
this hut was ready? I do not know, but 
these many days I have been prostrate from 
repeated fever attacks, with a languor in 
the intervals which makes the lifting of a fin- 
ger or the raising of an eyelid a trouble. The 
constant doses of quinine make me so stupid 
that I cannot write without great efibrt. The 
rainy season is now fairly on us. To-day is the 
coldest, most blustering day I have ever ex- 
perienced in the tropics, and I can take pleasure 
in a plaid. Mosquitoes plague us terribly, but 
sometimes a gust dispels them for a little, to our 
extreme relief. I do not know what I should 



234 CAJEPUT-OIL. 

have done without cajeput-oil. A lady gave 
me a small bottle on the voyage to the Moluccas, 
and that the application has saved me many an 
ulcer I am quite certain. The mosquitoes do 
not care to bite when the skin is covered with 
this oil. Some people cannot use it, from 
aversion to the strong odour. Fortunately it 
does not affect me much, though I confess I 
don't like it just under my nose. This cajeput 
or cajuputi oil is extracted from the white 
(puti) wood (caju) tree, so named by the Malays 
from its white bark, resembling somewhat that 
of a larch in colour. The oil is not at all greasy, 
the colour is a transparent green, and a strong 
mixture of peppermint and camphor might in- 
dicate its smell. The faint odour which pervades 
an apartment some time after it has been used 
is to me most pleasant, like those subtle scents 
you imagine when you read Eastern tales. But 
I dare not again recommend it to any one. 
Mdlle. Maria Jos^ at the Palazzio has suffered 
greatly from distressing ulcers caused by mos- 
quito bites, so I gave her some of my cajeput, 
assuring her that it was a sure preventive of 
attacks from the insects. By mistake in the 
night she overturned the vial and spilled the 
contents, from whose strong odour she spent 



A FRAIL TENEMENT. 253 

a sleepless night, with such nausea that one 
must not mention cajeput in her presence. 

We have now been here over a month, and are 
as delighted as ever with the beautiful situation. 
But the house has an ominous lean, and has now 
more props to stay it than were contemplated in 
the original design. H. goes out first thing 
every morning to see how much it has slipped ; 
what with the tempestuous weather we are 
having and earthquakes, I fear the whole 
tenement will topple down the slope one day. 

We have put all the mats and a waterproof 
sheet over the bed, and as there is not another 
dry yard under the roof, it is the storing-place 
for all articles which would take harm — clothes, 
books, gunpowder, food, &c.; and when a torrent 
comes we have to run and hastily throw the 
things that are lying about into it. We then 
get our waterproofs and spread our umbrellas till 
the storm-cloud passes ! 

And we have great difficulty in getting food. 
H. sends orders in writing (as was arranged) to 
the shop of a Chinaman who speaks Malay ; but 
he never understands rightly, and sends the 
strangest things, for which, when our man has 
toiled up the hill with them, we have no use. 
The only flesh readily procurable in Dilly is 



256 OUR FOOD-SUPPLY. 

pork. Our men, being Mohammedans, will not 
yield to my suggestion to cany it up, even on 
the point of a stick ; and only very occasionally 
does Pirea return with fowls, although sent 
specially to purchase. We have resolved on an 
expedition to the town to make better arrange- 
ments. Excellent bread is to be had there, but 
we seldom have it fresh, for it is too far to send 
often for it. 

" Here, I have said, at least I should possess 
The poet's treasure, silence, and indulge 
The dreams of fancy, tranquil and sec\ire. 
Vain thought ! the dweller in that still retreat 
Dearly obtains the refuge it affords. 
Its elevated site forbids . . . 

the baker's punctual calL 

If solitude make scant the means of life, 
Society for me ! Thou seeming sweet, 
Be still a pleasing object in my view. 
My visit still, but never mine abode." 

H. went down alone to purchase food stores, 
and to-morrow we are to have an interpreter, so 
now our troubles are surely over. 

Goma, the interpreter, is a sad failure as such, 
but he is a good, willing creature, and does our 
bidding to the best of his ability. H. says my 
conversations with him over domestic matters 
make him nearly hysterical from laughing. I 
speak Malay very badly, Goma a long way 



GOMA THE INTERPRETER. 257 

worse. He can remain only one month, however, 
as he must then return to his own island with 
his father and brothers, who are here from Alor 
boat-building. In the intervals of the duties to 
which I must daily direct him, he stretches 
himself on the furthest corner of the verandah 
to snooze, or busies himself carving out combs 
from bamboo. But he jumps and runs with a 
smile to serve me when I call. He is enchanted 
with our cooking utensils, and has already indi- 
cated to me which of the pans he would like to 
take to Alor when he goes. He is also en- 
amoured of my comb, which I now carefully 
hide. One evening I heard a vigorous brushing, 
and rushed round, sure he was taking a loan of 
some of our tooth-brushes, but> found to my 
relief that he was using a small neatly tied 
bunch of pig s bristles to polish his really fault- 
less teeth. He does not trouble himself much 
otherwise with eflforts for personal cleanliness. I 
give him soap and send him to the stream to 
bathe, but he returns as greasy-looking as ever. 
We have still the two Indians. The younger 
is a nice lad, but evidently cannot stand the 
cold nights of the hills, for he is always ailing. 
One night we thought he was dying : he lay for 
hours insensible, while H. tried every means for 

R 



258 VISITORS. 

his restoration. Goma on this occasion, with 
earnest entreaty, begged a ring from my finger, 
and having placed it in a glassful of water, he 
anointed the insensible lad, and taking out the 
ring laid it on his lips. He never doubted the 
power of his charm, and was quite happy when, 
after some time, the patient opened his eyes. 
He made no account of the medicinal restora- 
tives we had given, and the fomentations and 
bags of heated salt we had applied. The elder 
Indian we must dismiss ; it seems, when he sets 
out ostensibly to shoot, he goes to Dilly to 
sell the shot, and when he comes back deeply 
intoxicated, his statement that " he has seen 
nothing " is quite credible. When he does 
bring a few birds they are riddled all over, and 
he comes back so late that it is impossible to 
skin them that night, and next day they are as 
a rule putrid. 

We had visitors last Sunday. Monsieur 
Bento da Franga and his wife, guided by Senhor 
Albino, were here. Knowing our simple mSnage^ 
they had the forethought to bring forks and 
knives for themselves, and beautiful leaves fresh 
from the forest served for the plates we were 
short of. I sent our Indian to the market the 
previous day on hearing that they were coming. 



VISITORS, 259 

with injunctions to bring fowls or flesh of some 
kind, and not to fail me. Late, at night he 
returned quite intoxicated, with a piece of pork 
on the point of a long stick, and throwing it 
down, tried to turn aside a reproof by impress- 
ing on us what risk of contamination he had 
incurred, and what sacrifice of the requirements 
of his religion he had made, in trying to do my 
bidding. The flesh had been bought early in 
the day, and had lain exposed to the sun's rays 
until the man thought fit to return, so it was 
already half stinking. But Madame brought 
some delicacies ready cooked, and, with what I 
could furnish, we had an excellent repast. * The 
party had started before sunrise, and while I 
was yet busy with some simple preparations, a 
joyous cry reached me, " Bon jour, Madame ! " 
Looking up, I saw my friend riding down the 
narrow path to our hut, preceding her cavaliers, 
on a pure white palfrey : with her hand raised 
to brush aside the long grass, she formed one of 
the prettiest pictures I have ever looked upon. 
She was better mounted than I had been when 
I rode up from the plain, and had accomplished 
the most trying part while the morning was still 
quite fresh ; but it rained heavily in the after- 
noon, and they had to walk every step of the 



260 COFFEE. 

way back owing to the slipperiness, so Madame 
has had days of severe fever as a result of the 
fatigue. 

Coffee grows abundantly in the island, and 
is of excellent quality. We are kept in supply 
by our friends, whose lavish use of it we have 
learned to copy. Ere the light has come, I am 
calling to our boy to make fire and get water 
boiling, and with the first streaks of day the 
aroma of this delicious beverage spreads over the 
verandah, where we enjoy it and watch the sun 
rise. As it is often 10 a.m. ere we have break- 
fast, we eat biscuit and butter with it. My 
thermometer is the butter ; it is occasionally 
quite stiff, and if I have not noticed H.'s read- 
ing from his thermometer, or guessed the tem- 
perature from the fresh atmosphere, I could tell 
it from the butter-tin. 

I must not fail to tell you what real benefit I 
derive from having with me here a small petro- 
leum stove. Any of the same form we do not 
see in England, but they are in use in every 
household in the Dutch Indies. A lady can thus 
herself prepare any European delicacy she 
wishes for, — an effort not to be attempted over 
a hot fireplace. They are so neat as to be an 
ornament to a side-table in the dining-hall, and 



PETROLEUM STOVES, 261 

from the constant current of air which sweeps 
through every apartment in this climate, the 
smell from the petroleum is never perceived. 
I was fortunate enough to procure one in Am- 
boina, and I do not know how we should have 
managed without it. Before we go out our 
morning walk, the fowl is placed on the stove to 
cook ; it simmers gently while we are gone, and 
when we return the savoury stew is ready. Our 
servant has the potatoes or rice already cooked, 
and while we partake of this simple first course, 
the second, in the shape of a pancake, is brown- 
ing beautifully on the even heat of the stove. 

Mountain-men carrying potatoes to the mar- 
ket pass down the hill above our house; when 
we need a supply we hail them, and so have 
always plenty of this vegetable, of excellent 
quality too. 



262 



CHAPTER XIX. 

PORTUGUESE TIMOR — VISIT TO DILLY — EARTHQUAKES DE- 
PARTURE OF GOMA FLOWERS KAMBING ISLE PALM 

SUNDAY AT DILLY "WEAK BRANDY- AND- WATER." 

eth March. 

We went down to Dilly this week to meet the 
mails, when I posted my last to you. We de- 
bated long ere I could decide to go; but the 
prospect of a day with our friends was so tempt- 
ing, that I risked the fatigue. On our former 
visit we arrived amongst them just as they 
were gathering for breakfast — hot, draggled, and 
dusty ; and we felt so uncomfortable beside them, 
so fresh and cool, that we resolved to have our 
man carry fresh garments for us next time, and 
to dress in the shade of the last cluster of trees. 
I mention such a very trivial matter as this to 
bring home to you the nature of the discomforts 
attendant on such a life as mine. Mdlle. Isabel 
tells me it was a girlish dream of hers to be 



DILLY. 263 

fetnme dJexplorateur (the history of the discov- 
eries of the Portuguese is very fascinating), but 
she now sees that the life is not all romance 
and perpetual picnicking. 

We saw the guard-ship sailing out of the bay, 
and knew that his Excellency had left with his 
family for a few weeks' visit to Bancau, a small 
town about eighty miles round the coast, built 
upon a plateau over 2000 feet, almost sheer up 
from the shore, where they hope to recruit their 
health. Only Monsieur Bento and his wife re- 
main here — and with the latter I had some 
sympathetic housewifely chat over our domestic 
difficulties. The capable servants are gone with 
the family, and Madame is at the mercy of a 
drunken African. On Saturday he received a 
sum for the week's housekeeping ; he was invis- 
ible on Sunday, and on Monday morning all he 
had to show for the money was a terrible scar on 
his forehead. We expected to get some one to 
replace Goma, who must go to his own island 
this week ; but there seems small chance for us, 
when there is no respectable servant to be found 
for the Governor's household. The chief object 
of our visit, however, was to urge that men 
might be sent to repair our roof and build the 
drying-house for the plants. With all its happi- 



264 EARTHQUAKES. 

ness, it is a great disappointment to us that we 
are still living our tranquil life in Fatunaba : 
there is work to do, the wet season is beginning 
to pass, and H. is anxious to get away into the 
interior. He would like to leave me comfortably 
housed; and there is no use making botanical 
collections without a drying-house. 

Recently frequent shocks of earthquake have 
occurred. I do not know that any great con- 
vulsion has taken place in Timor in late years ; 
but those we experience are sufficiently alarming, 
since one never knows to what extent the shock 
may devastate. Many of the buildings in Dilly 
are out of repair, as the effect of earthquake. It 
is not long since the hospital was shaken to its 
foundations, and some of the poor invalids were 
killed from debris or died from fright. Just after 
we arrived in Timor there was a very slight 
shock one night. H. warned me when he left 
for Fatunaba to run out into the courtyard on 
the least sensation of another, and to keep clear 
of the buildings. One morning, just as light was 
faintly dawning, I was awakened by an unearthly 
noise and flash and glare. 

"An earthquake!" I cried; "all the houses 
are tumbling ! " and I sprang up and ran into 
the back courtyard. Darkness and silence only 



A SHOCK. 265 

met me. I returned to my room in bewilder- 
ment, thinking I had been dreaming, when a 
repetition of the volleying and rattling com- 
menced. This time I fled to the front, and was 
inquiring of some of the family whom I encoun- 
tered, as frightened as I, what it could mean, 
when a hurrah from a crowd concealed behind 
the garden wall recalled to us that it was a salute 
of crackers and a display of fireworks to celebrate 
his Excellency's birthday. 

But we had a shock in real earnest a few days 
later. We ladies were sitting talking in the 
verandah after dinner, when the gentlemen 
rushed out from the salon, and severally seizing 
one of us, hurried out to the beach. A sharp 
shock, with a noise like the roar of a train draw- 
ing into a station, so paralysed us that we could 
not have fled ourselves. The sensation of an 
earthquake is unforgettable : feel it once, and you 
never have any doubt what means that sicken- 
ing rocking of the very earth beneath you, with 
the swaying of whatever the eye fixes on, and the 
clatter of everything movable. 

Since the last words were written, we have had 
an amusing domestic experience. We have been 
entirely dependent for some days on our own 
efforts for household comfort. The good Goma 



266 A NEW SERVANT. 

had to go : his people could no longer wait. 
Evening after evening I found him adding a knot 
on a very dirty piece of string — his calendar — 
and he became very anxious as the end of the 
month approached. Just as he was going, a 
mountain-man from an adjoining valley came 
past, accompanied by his son, a boy of about 
twelve years. We thought the boy could at 
least make fire and bring water ; and his father, 
tempted by a liberal wage, agreed that he should 
serve us during the day, returning to his home 
every evening. This urchin gave us more amuse- 
ment and more annoyance than I can well de- 
scribe to you. We were so much occupied 
writing, that we rarely came out of the hut till 
evening. Doubtless the lad found the first day 
very long and tiresome, so on the morrow he 
brought over one or two companions. With 
their play and quarrelling it was impossible to 
write, and we forbade any *' company " in future ; 
so he took to slipping away at his will, and some 
days turned up only in the afternoon. On being 
found fault with, he "resigned his situation." 
Anything more comical than this incident I 
have never enjoyed. Although I understood no 
word of his eloquent speech, his splendid dra- 
matic action was a most accurate translation. 



TEMPESTUOUS WEATHER. 267 

" Do you think that I, who roam these hills at 
will, and never in my life was at the beck and 
call of any human being, will be bound to such 
degrading thraldom for a few paltry coins! 
Give me what I have earned, and let me go." 

So we were quite alone for over a week. 
H. has been writing an account of the journey 
through Bourou, accomplished before we came 
to Timor. We relieved each other, writing and 
dictating from the sketch-sheets alternately, and 
the humbler duties of fire-making and cooking 
were no unwelcome change to tired eyes and 
cramped fingers. On one of the evenings the 
weather was very tempestuous, and the fire 
which we made to cook dinner blew everywhere, 
to the imminent risk of the tenement, and the 
lamps were extinguished as fast as we lighted 
them. By patient effort we managed to half- 
cook some food, and having improvised a shelter 
in one of the corners with some mats, shawls, 
&c., we went to eat it. But just then the rain 
commenced, and poured through the roof, trick- 
ling down our backs, dripping heavy drops into 
our plates, and, worst of all, putting out the 
lamp. 

Th^ novel task soon lost its charm, and H. 
went down to try to get some assistance. He 



268 OUR DRYING-HOUSE. 

brought with him Anea, the delicate lad we had 
at first, for a few days, until Matross,.the man 
we now have, should be released from prison. 
To discharge the debt for which he was incar- 
cerated we had to advance several months' wages 
— a foolish step, a^ we have found, for we are 
entirely in his power, and he knows it ; but 
what else could we do ? 

Men are here now building the drying-house 
and repairing our hut. They are a very difier- 
ent set from the last, and their workmanship 
and good conduct have considerably raised our 
estimate of the Timorese. They are men usually 
employed at the public works, and their foreman 
is a man of great ability and energy, so that 
after five days' work a neat erection stands a 
little way to the left of our house. The foreman 
says our house is irremediable without razing it 
to its foundations, and so we have only had it 
patched up a little until we decide if we shall 
stay much longer in Timor. 

In this district there are more pretty tiny 
wild flowers than I have seen anjrwhere else. 
We go exploring into the neighbouring valleys 
in our morning walk, often getting lost, so that 
we are forced to trust ourselves to the guidance 
of some native, who leads us by a short cut over 



WILD FLOWERS. 269 

streams with boulders I am almost unable to 
cross ; but who, however, helps us with our bur- 
dens of beautiful spoils, which, on coming home, 
we spend half the morning arranging in drying- 
paper. Numbers of fine orchids grow on the 
slopes, and round the hut we have many already 
in a thriving state. 

I am serving my apprenticeship as a natural- 
ist, and have made such progress that I can net 
a bee without getting stung, and I now know 
the proper way to grasp a beetle ! Large and 
beautiful butterflies flit among the high trees at 
the stream, and many a half-hour we spend there 
in the hope of capturing some, but they fly so 
high that we are not often rewarded. A beetle 
found by H. among the petals of a rose, a moth 
spied by me in the dark eaves of the old woman's 
hut, and netted with excited caution, — these and 
suchlike are our pleasures, filling the days of 
this simple life " far from the madding crowd." 

With all its drawbacks, we have here enjoy- 
ment of the serenest kind. The wondrously 
beautiful prospect before us never palls : 

" Scenes must be beautiful which, daily viewed, 
Please daily." 

We are out on the verandah ere the outline of 



270 KAMBING I8LK 

the friendly Kambing Isle is yet visible, to watch 
the streams of light from the eastern horizon 
touch her with wakening hand. Soon the mists 
creep from her crannies and crown her crests, ere 
long to float away, leaving the sunlight to dance 
on her ridges, and nestle into her nooks. Early 
morning past, she is coquetting with the wooing 
clouds, now all gay and responsive, again sulk- 
ing in sullen shade. Mid-day finds her reposing 
on the breast of the cobalt sea, colourless with 
brilliancy, as if pale from the strong heat. Thus 
she sleeps through the long afternoon, till she 
rouses to wear her richest blue and regal purple 
as she asserts her stately outline against the ijoft- 
tinted sunset sky ; and at last, when the monarch 
of day concentrates all brightness on himself for 
his glorious adieu, she slowly retires from view, 
and withdraws into the gathering shades. 

But as I have said, to live this Arcadian life 
was not the object of our visit to Timor, and we 
have made yet another pilgrimage to Dilly to 
try to hasten arrangements for H.'s journey into 
the interior. He fully hoped to have been gone 
long ere now ; but they say there is now no use 
in setting ofi* until the rains have passed, and 
promise that as soon as Lent is over horses and 
men will be sent for the journey. 



VISIT TO DILLY. 271 

It was Palm -Sunday when we visited the 
town, and we had the pleasure of witnessing 
the elaborate preparations for the celebration of 
this day — wonderfully complete, considering 
that means of decoration are not easily obtain- 
able in such a remote island. Infinite pains 
had been expended in the erection of resting- 
places for the procession, and the efi*ect was 
really beautiful when the tiny altars were il- 
luminated at night. The whole arches of the 
doorways were lighted by innumerable little 
lamps, made from halves of orange skins with 
tapers stuck in them ; and various designs in 
the form of crosses, stars, &c., shone out over 
the entrance way. 

After we had viewed the procession from the 
windows of the Government offices, we bade our 
friends adieu, having resisted their entreaties to 
remain overnight, and started for a moonlight 
walk home to our hut. But after parting with 
them, we were tempted to mingle for yet half 
an hour among the crowd which hovered in the 
glare of the illuminations. I was so struck by 
the grace and picturesque appearance of a coterie 
of Indians, that I could scarcely be drawn away. 
The men have a striking natural dignity, and 
the women a grace all their own. Two sweet 



272 NIGHT JOURNEY. 

pensive-eyed sisters, wives of one man, allowed 
me to examine their beautiful silver ornaments 
on neck, arms, and ears, when I took the op- 
portunity to try to discover how they manage 
to arrange a single piece of scarlet cloth so as 
to form a complete garment, draping gracefully 
from shoulder to ankles. Perhaps the rising 
moon and the uncertain quivering light of the 
illuminations gave them a charm they might 
not sustain in the full light of day ; but my im- 
pression is that they are the most graceful 
women I have ever looked upon. 

It was midnight when we started from the 
town. The moon was well up, casting long 
shadows into the gorges, and making every 
bush seem a crouching figure. It was very 
pleasant as we plodded on; the path was al- 
most as clear as in daylight, and the cool night 
wind came laden with the scent of wild th}Tne 
and the sweet odour of milk, borne from some 
hillside where a herd of buffaloes would be re- 
posing. 

How tired I was when we at last reached the 
hut ! We had been astir since 4 a.m. of the 
previous morning, and it was now nearly 3 a.m. 
I was fainting from fatigue, and could not wait 
till water was boiled for tea. *' Give me weak 



NEARLY POISONED. 273 

brandy-and-water ! " I cried, and H. hastened to 
fetch the flask from our medicinal store. Our 
servant in tidying the apartment had ranged all 
bottles of the same size in a row. H. grasped 
one containing a yellowish fluid, and poured me 
out a draught. *' Drink it raw ; I am afraid for 
you," he said. I swallowed it at one gulp : it 
tasted strange, but I was too tired to care. 
Presently H. forced another draught upon me. 
It was an antidote, for the first had been from 
a bottle containing spirits of wine and arsenic, 
which had formed the death-potion of our col- 
lection of beetles. 

To his fatigue was now added a night of 
anxious vigil, and for me followed successive 
days of terrible retching and strong fever. 



274 



CHAPTER XX. 

PORTUGUESE TIMOR SOLITUDE AN OLD WOMAN BUFFALOES 

ENCOUNTER WITH A NATIVE LETTER FROM H. FEEL- 
INGS IN FEVER MOUNTAIN-MEN. 

7ih April. 

I HAVE been already one week alone. I write 
daily in my journal that I am happy and con- 
tented, but I am only trying to deceive myself, 
r feel the loneliness exceedingly, and did not 
know to what test I was putting my endurance 
when I insisted on staying at the hut. The 
trial is entirely self-imposed. My friends at 
the Palazzio hold a room always at my disposal, 
and have begged me to pass the time of H. s 
absence with them. A lady in the town, wife 
of the shipping agent, has gone to Macassar 
with all her household for a month, and she 
with great kindness pressed me to occupy her 
house during her absence. But the atmosphere 
of Dilly oppresses me, so that I readily forego 
the comforts of the town, and face the loneliness 



AN OLD WOMAN. 275 

of the hills. When I get down into the plain I 
feel that I am inhaling poison ; a leaden heavi- 
ness hinders any enjoyment of the otherwise 
welcome intercourse with my friends. 

I mentioned to you an old ape-like woman 
who dwells in a hut by the stream. Quite a 
friendly relation became established with her 
some time after we settled here. She is very 
shy, and seems to have a reverential fear of H., 
but to me she confided her terror of thieves, 
from whose depredations she is kept in extreme 
poverty. She often goes away to friends in the 
mountains for days at a time, and it became a 
habit with her to leave her hatchet, her pot, her 
knife, with perhaps some heads of Indian corn 
in a cocoa-nut — the whole of her more precious 
possessions — in my store-room ; and on her re- 
turn she was permitted to take a smouldering 
piece of wood from our fire to kindle her own. 

I have previously stated that women do not 
serve in Timor. I could only have one of my 
own sex by me, and it seemed to me that if this 
old creature would stay overnights, make fire, 
bring water, and take letters and orders to Dilly, 
the arrangement would suit better than any 
other under the circumstances. Before the cav- 
alcade departed she was summoned into the 



276 MY OLD WOMAX. 

presence of the native officer, who is guide and 
interpreter, in charge of the escort. He told her 
of our proposal, and mentioned the wage she 
would receive for her services. She was in- 
credulous that such a sum would be given for 
my trifling requirements, and at first replied by 
a mocking laugh ; but when she grasped the 
fact that we were in earnest, she acceded 
readily. It was impressed upon her that the 
direst punishment would visit her if she were 
not faithful, and with every appearance of sin- 
cerity she undertook to abide by me. 

She goes about her own business during the 
day, and returns to me about sundown. Long 
ere she comes I am eagerly looking for her. 
Think of my loneliness, when such companion- 
ship is welcome ! I have had three days of 
slight fever, with great languor, and have been 
unable for much exertion. As I lie in my chair 
through the long day, not a sound breaks the 
stillness, — I start when the chair creaks. Lovely 
birds often perch on the rail of the verandah, 
perhaps regarding me with as much wonder as 
I regard them with admiration. 

I must not omit to tell you a striking incident 
which occurred as the cavalcade was on the 
point of departing. The road they took is that 



h/s departure. 277 

leading over the mountains behind the hut. 
The laden horses with their leaders and the 
human carriers had climbed the steep bank 
which flanks the house, and were winding along 
the crest of the spur. The ponies for H. and 
the guide stood ready ; we bade the latter pro- 
ceed, for I meant to accompany H. a little way 
on foot. Turning to me with a courteous 
gesture, and with earnest mien, the guide thus 
addressed me — "Madam, have no fear; God 
will stay with you. Let no anxiety distress 
you ; if harm comes to your husband, it must be 
over my dead body, for I will protect him with 
my life." Then, with a bow befitting a courtier, 
he departed. 

The number of horses was insufficient for the 
baggage ; but on reaching the next " kingdom " 
— which the word " district " might better ex- 
press — those from Montael will be returned, and 
if horses are plentiful in Turskain, more will be 
sent back for the remainder of the packages. 
On arriving at the residence of the chief of each 
kingdom, horses to the number of those arriving 
must be supplied for the forward journey, while 
those which have accompanied so far from the 
adjoining kingdom return. 

I had to-day news of how they are faring. 



278 H.'S JOURNEY. 

As I feared, the weather is very unfavourable. 
They have been most uncomfortably housed, too. 
The way is indeed laborious. Impracticable 
crags bar a straightforward course; they have 
to wind down precipitous mountain-sides to 
river-beds, and mount the next only to repeat 
the process, — a toilsome day's marching giving 
but a very unsatisfactory record of progress. 
H. says it would have been almost impossible 
for me to accompany him, so that perhaps, after 
all, this loneliness is the less trying alternative. 
How often have we regretted that I joined him 
only at the hardest part of his wanderings in the 
archipelago ! How I could have enjoyed that 
elysian life on the Keeling Islands, with their 
fascinating interest, and with no fever or mos- 
quitoes to intrude. How easy and pleasant his 
life in Java, with the rapid post-chaise travelling 
and the hearty hospitality of the distant stations. 
How delightful that journey by river in Sum- 
atra, from the interior to Palembang, when he 
leisurely sailed for weeks together in his com- 
modious, orchid-decked, floating house, mooring 
on the beautiful banks or at any interesting 
village at pleasure. 

Matross, our swaggering, fine gentleman ser- 
vant, is invaluable on the way. He is in great 



THE OLD WOMAN. 279 

good-humour, because he is proceeding home- 
wards. In the course of their march they pass 
through the kingdom of Bibi9U9u, of the rajah 
of which it seems Matross is the son-in-law. 
Far from Dilly, where he was in the bondage of 
debt, and relieved from the petty servitude of 
domestic life at the hut, he puts on all his airs 
as a member of a royal house. He forages and 
"requisitions" as perhaps no other could have 
done, so that his impudence has been on the 
whole serviceable. 

IZih April, 

My old woman is already proving rather dis- 
appointing. She is tiring of the restraint of 
staying by me, and last night did not come at 
alL I begin to suspect that she is not quite 
sane. She had a fit the other night. Groan- 
ing sounds awoke me, and I rose and looked 
into her apartment. She lay quite rigid, with 
foam upon her lips, and made no response to 
my efi'orts to rouse her. Next night about 3 
A.M. I heard music — of a sort, and saw a dim 
light through the spars. She was playing on a 
Jew's-harp, by the light of a curious taper of 
her own construction. 

Last evening's sunset was quite remarkable. 
The few clouds to be seen in the sky were 



280 NIGHT AND DAY. 

arranged in parallel strata, and discharges of 
lightning kept passing from one to the other. 
At 8 P.M. the clouds still caught a little linger- 
ing light, probably zodiacal. In these tropical 
lands Night is of jealous mood, and will abide 
no lengthened parting between Earth and Day. 
Ever at the appointed hour she comes with im- 
patient step to spread her spangled mantle in 
the heavens, hastily trailing her sombre skirts 
over distant scene and near prospect ; and Day 
departs, often with plashing rain-drops for tears, 
and low-moaning winds for sighs. 

14^^ April, 

I was in Dilly this week. Last mail brought 
the news from my friends Mr and Mrs Van 
Deventer that they mean to change residence 
from Amboina to Samarang in Java, and that 
the vessel by which they travel will probably 
call at Dilly. I saw the mail steaming into the 
bay when I came out on the verandah at dawn, 
and in half an hour, with my packet of letters 
for despatch, I set off for the town. I had never 
gone alone before, and at a point where several 
paths diverge unfortunately chose the wrong 
one. I landed in an unfamiliar valley, from 
which I could see no egress. There was noth- 
ing for it but to retrace my steps and make 



BUFFALOES. ' 281 

a more careful selection. While I was panting 
upwards, bemoaning the loss of energy and 
dreading the walk across the plain, which I 
could not now reach until the sun was high, a 
native suddenly emerged from a side-path. 

There are two encounters which I greatly 
dread, — one is a herd of buffaloes, the other a 
single native; and I have been forced to give 
up my morning walks on the hills in conse- 
quence. When the former are browsing on an 
open slope, I can make a long detour, and, cling- 
ing by branches and tufts of vegetation, skirt 
the farthest stragglers ; but when I come sud- 
denly upon them pressing along a narrow path, 
their horns clashing and clattering as they race 
and stamp and bellow, I don't know where to 
turn. If I creep down the slope on one side, 
or scramble up the height on the other, the 
chances are that they scatter, and some take 
the very way I am struggling over, in their 
mad gallop hither and thither. You must re- 
member that I am only a small and very 
feminine woman, and no masculine female with 
top-boots and a fowling-piece. 

But even less willingly would I meet a single 
native in a quiet wood. The Timor men are 
most unreliable. They are inveterate thieves. 



282 TIMOR NATIVES. 

and not at all shy with their cupidity. Some- 
times I would suddenly find myself face to face 
with one of these dusky gentlemen, who had been 
crouching behind a bush polishing his knife. 
He would come forward with a surprised air, 
and I can imagine his thought would be some- 
thing like — " What a strange thing ! I must go 
and examine it." He approaches me, strokes 
my cheek with his filthy hand, tugs my gar- 
ments as he inspects their form, walks back a 
little to view my parasol, and all with as much 
regard for my feelings as if I were a statue in 
a park. '*0h, this is the white woman who 
lives in the hut on the slope ; she does not 
look much. There must be things as strange 
as herself there. I hear that the white man is 
marching over the mountains with men and 
horses ; I shall go down and have a look at 
her dwelling." 

To continue about my journey to Dilly. The 
man I met was one of the uncanniest-looking 
mortals you could imagine. If one such were 
to peep round the door as you sit reading this 
letter, you would fairly die of fright. He had 
a fatuous leer, and an expression of hideous 
cunning which made my heart utterly fail. My 
knees gave way under me, and I was ready to 



AN ENCOUNTER. 283 

burst into tears, when suddenly I remembered 
that bulls, and even mad people, may be quelled 
by the power of the eye. A locket which had 
escaped from under my dress as I jolted down- 
wards seemed the special object of attraction. 
Every dozen steps he turned to examine it, then 
he would stroke me graciously, and I, recalling 
H.'s injunction never to show fear, reciprocated 
by gently patting his greasy back. But I kept 
a firm grasp of my parasol handle, and never re- 
laxed . my unflinching stare, while with most 
self-possessed manner and easy nods I indi- 
cated that he must precede me. There was 
little use in getting angry : he had a large knife 
against my parasol handle. The only way was 
to divert him until we reached the confines of 
civilised life. For two hours I drove that man 
before me; but when we came in sight of the 
monastery of Lahany I got imperious, and com- 
manded him to leave me. Then I sat down and 
gave vent to my pent-up feelings, for I had 
passed through the severest trial of my courage 
yet required of me. 

It was late when I reached the town, and, hot 
and nervous, I went into the agent's house to 
rest before proceeding to the Palazzio. Sitting 
there at refreshment, I heard my name spoken 



284 WALK FROM DILLY. 

in the verandah. Mr Van Deventer had come 
on shore to seek me, and report to his wife if I 
was near enough to be visited. The steamer 
stayed only a few hours. These I spent with 
them in a visit to the Da Fran9a family, and 
when the)'' were gone I turned to my letters. 
My friends at the palace said I looked ill, and 
must remain overnight. I was really unfit to 
return, and yielded to their persuasions, on con- 
dition that I might set off ere they were up next 
morning, for I daily expected the return of some 
men from the interior, bringing plants to me, and 
to bear the remainder of the goods to H. With 
two trusty guides as protectors, I commenced 
the ascent early next morning. The pony which 
had been provided for me I sent back at Lahany, 
for I really prefer walking to the perilous seat in 
an unsafe saddle with an untrained pony. 

The sun's slanting rays were distressingly 
strong among the sparse trees of the heights, 
and I was ready for the shelter of the hut ere I 
turned to brush through the long grass of the 
side-path leading to it. I was sustaining my 
fainting steps by the thought of coming rest and 
quiet, when a very babel of voices greeted my 
ears, and through the branches I could get peeps 
of what seemed a crowd of people. This turned 



LETTER FROM H. 285 

out to be twenty-four men and a dozen horses, 
and Matross himself stepped forward to hand me 
a letter. H., knowing my dislike of the noise of 
a number of natives in close proximity to the hut, 
had given them the instructions, repeated to me 
in writing, that the ponies were to be tied to 
graze on the hill-slopes, that one or two of the 
men were to stay to do my bidding, while the 
rest were to accompany Matross to the town to 
transact some exchange of products intrusted 
to them by their own rajah. They were charged 
to commence their return journey on the day of 
arrival, and Matross was required to bring from 
the town fresh supplies for my larder. 

When quiet had succeeded to this bustle, I 
had time to peruse my letter, which gives a map 
of the route taken, with some description of the 
country and their experiences in traversing it. 
The natural scenery of the interior of Timor 
must answer to Shelley's lines : — 

" How hideously 
Its shapes are heaped around — rude, bare, and high, 
Ghastly and scarred and riven ! — Is this the scene 
Where the old earthquake-daBmon taught her young 
Ruin ? Were these her toys 1 " 

H. is delighted, and is full of the interest of his 
work, if he could be but sure that all is well with 



286 ROBBERS. 

me. That he may pursue his course with an 
easy mind, I have carefully hid from him the 
true state of matters. What would he say if he 
knew that a band of thieves made a raid on me 
the other night, and lifted everything that was 
readily portable? A large bundle of trading- 
cloth was taken entire, with the clothes I had 
worn in the day-time, my washing-basin, a ham 
which depended from the rafters of the verandah, 
and various trifling articles which I have no 
means of securing, as there is no door of any 
kind in the hut. I was awakened by a slight 
creaking of the floor under their stealthy tread, 
and involuntarily called- out, but refrained from 
any fuss, on consideration that it was wiser to 
let the thieves take all than incite them to mur- 
der me in order to ensure my silence. But I am 
very uneasy, and grant you that it was foolhardy 
to encounter the risk of living thus alone, with- 
out reliable protection. Matross did not return 
from Dilly till the morning of the third day, 
and I had to endure two nights of twenty- 
three men snoring and grunting and harassing 
my strained nerves with their sepulchral bron- 
chial coughs. But I could readily forgive him, 
for this secured me comparative ease of mind 
during the night, although their presence in the 



FEVER. 287 

day, with their jabbering, laughing, and the 
ceaseless occupation common to these untutored 
peoples — the destruction of parasites in the 
hair — distracted me while occupied in making 
an abstract of the contents of the letters re- 
ceived by last mail to send to H, The task of 
answering them rather burdens me now. My 
nerves have got into a strained state, and a fever 
attack is creeping over me, I had to succumb to 
it yesterday, and hope to master it to-day, but 
I fear it is not to be put off 

Have you any distinct idea what this fever is 
of which I so often speak ? Before I suffered it 
myself, I used to account these malarial attacks a 
trifling matter ; and so they are, compared with 
the critical fevers, such as typhoid or gastric, 
which we dread at home. These assail with 
severity; but if they do not prove fatal, they 
leave the patient to recover, and probably to enjoy 
better health than before. But if one is suscep- 
tible to malarial influence, the fever is never 
done : it robs one of all vitality, it saps the life 
away, you can never count on a day's immunity, 
you never know the hour when it will prostrate 
you. In some cases the patient passes from days 
of languor and malaise into the sleep of death, 
and in others succumbs to a sudden paroxysm. 



288 FEVER. 

Persons of diflferent constitution suflFer differ- 
ently, and attacks vary in severity in the same 
sufferer. Sometimes there is merely a great 
languor, with loss of appetite. The slightest 
effort is a burden, life is a weariness, and the 
future looks overwhelmingly black. Then there 
are short and sharp attacks, for which one seems 
at the time little the worse. In the forenoon 
you are in a burning fever ; by evening you can 
sit up ; and you enjoy immunity for the next 
fortnight or three weeks. But alas for you when 
day after day for successive weeks finds you 
delirious, reduced to such a condition of feeble- 
ness that you feel an utter hopelessness of ever 
regaining strength for the duties of life ! 

Slight attacks are preceded generally by an 
unwonted physical energy and mental exhilara- 
tion. No task seems impossible, and the busy 
brain is full of schemes. To quote Mr H. H. 
Johnston's apt words : " This first stage of the 
fever is by no means disagreeable. One enjoys 
the same sensations as those produced by a 
sufficiency of good champagne. But all exertion 
is disagreeable ; one feels content to sit and com- 
pose chapters of novels in one's whirling brain, 
without attempting to commit the fleeting kalei- 
doscopic images to paper.'' I have often felt quite 



MENTAL EXHILARATION. 289 

hurt that H. would not be my amanuensis on 
such occasions, refusing to commit my brilliant 
ideas to paper, and only giving a pitying smile 
when I confided to him that I was meditating a 
poem. I used to think him very commonplace 
when he ordered boiling water, and asked me if 
the tea-caddy was handy. 

Sundry twinges in the region of the neck and 
shoulders might give warning of what must fol- 
low, but the flights of the imagination do not 
suffer one to think of things corporal. You sit 
mounting the ladder of fame with soaring spirit, 
deliberating which of your many projects you 
will give the first place to, when a sensation as 
if cold water were trickling down the spine 
arrests you. There is no mistaking this symp- 
tom. You may feel rebellious, you may weep 
for very chagrin; but get into bed, and heap 
every garment you possess upon you. The lips 
are blue, the fingers are benumbed already ; the 
rending ague, the burning fever, the soaking 
sweat, the prostrating weakness, will follow as 
surely as the day the dawn. 

There is something pathetic to myself in my 
hasty arrangements when an attack seizes me. 
I get my stove lit to make the hot weak tea 
which helps one through the ague. I lay every- 

T 



290 FEVER. 

thing at hand which I shall need during the 
fever, and put dry gannents within reach. The 
perspiration which follows is surprisingly profuse. 
It is no exaggeration to say that one lies as wet 
as if pails of water had been poured on the bed ; 
towels placed round the neck to catch the 
streams from the head are soaked in a quarter of 
an hour as if they had been lifted from a wash- 
tub ; and when one has been rolled on to a dry 
mattress and assisted into other garments, the 
feeling of comfort is as if one were being tended 
after having been saved from drowning. This 
is the only pleasant moment during the whole 
attack, and I miss the care which I have never 
lacked in a stage of weakness when, to say the 
least, it would be grateful. I miss, too, the 
spoonful of nourishing soup which relieves the 
sinking faintness that succeeds the weakening 
attack. One would rather want it than make 
the efibrt to prepare it one's self. 

Severe attacks begin with violent retching and 
acute rheumatic pain, to which delirium invari- 
ably succeeds. In Timor-laut I lay within the 
sound of the lapping waves, and I used to im- 
agine that I was standing on the shore watching 
my head float out over the sea. I was ever 
making distressing efforts to follow it and keep 



FEVER. 291 

it in sight, but it got lost somehow, and I got 
lost myself, till, as if awaking from sleep, I be- 
came conscious of being in bed, with a feeling of 
mild surprise that my head was still on. Any 
other consciousness is of extreme weakness. But 
you imagine the patient will, at least, have rest 
in this state of prostrate quiet ? No, no ; this is 
but a respite before the real sufiering begins. 
Every pore of the body becomes a needle-point, 
and million simultaneous prickings cause you 
actually to leap into the air. Every joint be- 
comes a centre of acute agony, and each limb a 
vehicle for shooting pains, which in passing out 
from the fingers and toes seem to tear the nails 
ofi* with them. I have often been surprised on 
looking to find my nails in their place, for I was 
positive that they were gone. 

And the restlessness ! Fifty, a hundred times 
in an hour you change your position. Vertical, 
horizontal, straight along, comerways, sideways, 
the poor body tosses and turns, seeking a resting- 
place. At last a spot is found somewhat repose- 
ful; sleep, nature's panacea, steals over the 
senses ; the fever patient is recovering — ^till next 
time. 

My old woman never comes near me now. 
When I have had a few days of rest, I shall go 



292 SNAKES. 

down to Dilly to try to get some one to stay by 
me. Matross got intoxicated, and failed to 
bring the food stores I require. I sent every- 
thing I had on to H., since they are very poorly 
supplied in the interior, and have only rice and 
eggs for present use. My fowls are of no benefit 
except for their eggs, as I cannot myself kill 
them; but I have traced them to their nests 
amongst the long grass, and have always a good 
supply of eggs. My hunt has to be rather a 
w^ary one, by reason of a discovery I have made 
that snakes frequent the vicinity. One wriggled 
through the spars of the kitchen wall lately, and 
when beaten to death it was found to have 
poison fangs. 

These past few days I have been much occu- 
pied, and have had no time to fret ; but I do 
confess to feeling somewhat desolate at the sun- 
set hour, which was always the pleasantest part of 
the day. I light the lamp early, and busy myself 
cooking my dinner ; for if I were to sit down to 
watch the fading glow, and turn round to still- 
ness and darkness and no food, instead of the 
spread table, and the lamplight, and the crackle 
and blaze of the kitchen-fire, I should surely get 
faint-hearted. 

I am not altogether forsaken. I have occa- 



HILLMEN. 293 

sional visits from my hiUside neighbours (who 
are, I suspect, the thieves ; for they could note 
the position of things in the day-time, and 
readily lift them at night). They ply me with 
questions about master, inquiring when he is 
coming back, to which I always make the same 
reply : " Soon ; he has only gone over the hill." 
But they have found me out! Sometimes the 
mountain-men choose my verandah as their rest- 
ing-place for the night, instead of going to the 
old woman's hut, as was their wont. But they 
are always oflf by dawn, to be in Dilly early with 
their loads of potatoes for the market. They are 
quite harmless, and I have no fear of them ; but 
they have an insuflFerable odour, and they are 
undoubtedly fearsome - looking creatures. A 
stranger group than that stretched in deep sleep 
around me last night, as I, sleepless, whiled 
away a part of the dreary time in studying them 
both in attitude and physiognomy by the bril- 
liant moonlight, it would be difficult to imagine. 



294 



CHAPTER XXT. 

PORTUGUESE TIMOR SOLITUDE AND SICKNESS SUCCOUR IN 

DISTRESS RETURN OP H. DEPARTURE FROM TIMOR 

AMBOINA MENADO — SURABAYA — CONCLUSION. 

20^ May. 

There is a long blank in my journal, of which 
you probably need no explanation. You guess 
that I succumbed to illness — a fever as much 
nervous as malarial. Day after day for a fort- 
night, ere ten in the morning I was in high 
fever, and until afternoon lay in delirium, un- 
conscious of my surroundings. At first I was 
able to change my clothing and turn my mat- 
tress, and in the early morning came some little 
strength, with which I made preparations for the 
day of helplessness. I placed within reach my 
paraffin stove, with rice, salt, and water, and 
hung on a rope garments ready to change. 
Every morning I meant to go out amongst the 
grass ito bring in the eggs accumulating there;' 
but high winds, which made me dread a chill. 



FEVER. 295 

prevailed, and ere I could make up my mind to 
the eflfort of dressing, the fever was on me again. 
I do not mean to harass your feelings by any 
detailed account of what I passed through, and 
will dismiss the subject in a few sentences. It 
touches me deeply to call that time of trial into 
review; but I did not actually suflfer so badly 
as you would be led to suppose from the circum- 
stance that I was so ill, with no human being 
to tend me. The worst time was when I came 
to myself after the delirium, about three in the 
afternoon, the hottest tour of the day, when the 
sun was pouring in on me through the spars, and I 
was unable to change my position, partly owing 
to weakness, partly because I had gradually 
drawn almost every article in the hut within my 
bed. The rats, which at first confined their 
revels to the darkness of night, got so bold in 
the unbroken stillness that even in the day-time 
they tried to gnaw through my bed-curtains, 
within which books and boots and food had to 
be secured. My pillows had got pressed into 
nothing for want of shaking up, and under them 
I managed to push the bag containing rice. Thus 
hampered, I lay under the beating rays with 
stifling palpitation, panting for breath, and in a 
confused excited state, which coolness and dark- 



296 DETERMINATION NOT TO DIE. 

ness and perhaps an encouraging voice would 
have soothed. But the slow hours at length 
wore by, and the evening shadows gathered. I 
got cold enough now in my wet garments, and 
became so faint and weak that I would gladly 
have died. With a vague sort of pity for myself, 
I could not withhold a few tears ; but I soon 
fell into a state when beautiful visions which I 
vainly try to recall passed before my sight, while 
strains of grandest and sweetest music added 
soothing to the inexplicably pleasing images. 
Then I lost consciousness in snat<jhes of fitful 
dozing, to awake long before the dawn. Now 
was the only mentally clear time of the twenty- 
four hours, and with the greatest effort I roused 
myself to light the stove and make some rice- 
water, the only food I had. What sustained me 
was the determination not to die. The thought 
of H/s agony should he come in some day and 
find only what of me the rats had left, inspired 
me to struggle for life. I seemed to exist in a 
dual state : one side would have sought pity and 
sympathy, the other scorned and scouted and 
imperiously forbade any such weakness, or the 
luxury of giving in to it. 

At last my stove got empty. . I could not go 
to the store to refill it, but I reached out for the 



THE CHICKEN. 297 

reading-lamp, and emptied its contents into the 
cooking-stove. I had one little companion, a 
chicken which I had bought from a passing 
mountain-lad. It did not grow, and would not 
mingle with the other fowls ; accustomed to 
sleep in the armpit of its former owner, it felt 
the cold of its unsheltered roost in the verandah, 
and with a fretful crooning it would come flut- 
tering to perch on my bed. How it escaped the 
rats so long I cannot tell ; they caught birds as 
large on the trees, and raced with them over the 
floor in broad daylight, dragging them hither 
and thither as they tore them in pieces. Any 
one who has never before killed a fowl must find 
the act very repulsive : in the state of my nerves 
it seemed little short of murder to slay the trust- 
ing little thing, whose nearness to me I had 
found companionable. I somehow twisted its 
neck, when I threw it from me as far as I was 
able ; then I lay down for some hours in utter 
misery. At last I got up to seek for it, and 
made from it the soup which I believe saved me 
till aid came. 

The third week the fever abated somewhat; 
I was more weak and helpless than feverish, 
although there was a recurrence every morning. 
I wrote a note for my friends, telling how it was 



298 MY MESSENGER. 

faring with me. I meant to rise and try to walk 
to Dilly ; if I failed, surely some one would be 
on the main path, and be persuaded to carry on 
the letter. By good fortune a lad from a neigh- 
bouring valley, whose open intelligent counte- 
nance had attracted us before, came past that 
afternoon. I explained to him that I wished a 
letter carried to the town, and would reward 
him well. " No ; he would not go among the 
white people ; he was a hill-man, and was shy." 
I tempted him with coin after coin : he did not 
know their value. He consented, he refused, he 
wavered ; he little knew that he held me on the 
rack — that I was almost stifled with eagerness — 
I was really bargaining for my life. At last he 
gave in so far : he would go to the town and 
drop the letter in the street, but he would not 
go to the Palazzio. Ofi" he ran, and I lay back 
thankful and exhausted. But in three minutes 
he was back again ; rain had commenced to fall, 
and with a native's dread of a wetting, he would 
not face it. My parasol lay in a corner. I 
pointed to it ; he seized it and ran ofi* — the fun- 
niest figure you ever saw, with his red loin-cloth 
and my blue-spotted parasol for sole attire ! 

About 5 P.M. to my surprise I saw him return- 
ing. Close in his wake followed two men ; these 



SUCCOUR. 299 

he had met half-way, bearing a letter of inquiry- 
why I had not written or come down. They 
took my letter, and early next day I was sur- 
prised by the sight of three horsemen descend- 
ing the path. The doctor, with two European 
gentlemen, had come to ascertain the state of 
matters. They were quite shocked to see my 
condition, and two of them returned at once for 
a couch to carry me down, while the doctor re- 
mained with me. We had thought of the ham- 
mocks, but the rats had gnawed them in shreds. 
It was five o'clock when the chair and carriers 
arrived. Night would be upon us, and I begged 
to be allowed to remain ; the food and wine I 
had had would have strengthened me on the 
morrow. But the doctor was inexorable. He 
could not return so far ; I must go down to have 
nursing and restoratives. So we started. The 
chair was of no use. The path on the edge of 
precipitous slopes did not admit of two men 
abreast with the chair between, and I was twice 
rolled off'. Ere we were well started night came 
down, and then the carriers refused to bear me. 
There was nothing now for it but to walk. For 
five hours we struggled down the Tiring Rock, 
with • only the stars to light us. We had to 
grope our way, and on the steepest parts to sit 



300 h/s arrival. 

down and let ourselves slide. I several times 
gave in, and begged to be left, but the good 
doctor encouraged me with infinite patience. 
At last we reached the plain, where I could be 
carried comfortably, and he rode on to tell our 
friends that I should soon arrive. 

They at once sent word to H., who got the 
news of my sickness in mid-Timor. He never 
left the saddle for three days and three nights, 
and landed amongst us one Sunday morning, 
the sorriest sight imaginable — burnt and travel- 
stained to a ludicrous degree. I was then con- 
valescent, thanks to the great kindness of 
Madame da Franga and her family, and we lost 
no time in returning to the hut, at which the 
collection of plants, &c., gathered on H.'s journey 
might any day arrive. 

So we are again enjoying the old tranquil life. 
But I have frequent attacks of fever, and we 
have decided to return to England by the first 
mail. 

BUITENZORG, 

I am now under the roof where I commenced 
these letters to you. We left Timor very hur- 
riedly at last. We thought some weeks must 
pass before the mail we meant to leave by 
should arrive. One morning, on coming out on 



DEPARTURE FROM TIMOR. 301 

the verandah, we saw a vessel standing into the 
bay. H. hurried down, and found that it was 
an intermediate steamer, but that no other 
would be in for some time; so with utmost 
haste all that we wished to take with us was 
bundled together and transported to the ship. 
We left everything but clothes and collections. 
There was no time to bestow our goods on any 
one capable of appreciating them : they were 
left to be appropriated by our uncouth neigh- 
bours, and no small share fell to the old 
woman who had so basely deserted me in my 
hour of need. 

The Governor's family were again our com- 
panions on the return voyage. A great sorrow 
befell them at the last. The day before their 
departure, Henrique, a beautiful boy of ten 
years, was buried. He seemed the least likely 
of any to succumb. He had been ailing, as were 
all the others; but it was a sad shock when, 
after a paroxysm of some thirty minutes' dura- 
tion, he lay dead. I have just heard from 
Mademoiselle Isabel that the good old Jacinthe 
died near Singapore, and was buried at sea. 

We had a very roundabout voyage here. 
Sailing directly, we could have reached Java 
from Timor in five or six days. No direct 



302 AMBOINA. 

route, however, is available, and we had to go 
up to Amboina, and round the north of Celebes. 
We were all too ill to enjoy the trip ; quite half 
of us were generally down with fever, so that 
the captain used to call the poop the hospital. 
But there were no passengers except ourselves, 
the captain was most thoughtful for our com- 
fort, and altogether we got through the discom- 
forts of suflfering illness on a tropical voyage with 
greater advantages than are generally available. 

We had no time to advise our friends in 
Amboina that we should touch there in the 
course of our voyage. I happened to be free of 
fever the morning we arrived, and with great 
glee at the surprise I should give Mrs Machik, 
walked off to her house as soon as the vessel 
moored. All the front was shuttered, and the 
doors closed against the heat, as is usual after 
the early morning has passed. I walked through 
the saloon, opened a second door, and was in the 
large cool dining-hall ere she heard me. She just 
seized me and danced up and down the room 
for about three minutes, calling out, " Children ! 
come ! Frau Forbes has come back again I " H. 
went to the ship for as many of the Da Fran9a 
family as were not prostrated by fever, and we 
spent together a most happy day. 



A TIDAL WAVE. 303 

Just outside of the bay of Amboina we were 
surprised by a small tidal wave, which, sailing 
as we were in the smoothest sea, alarmed us by 
the sudden upset. Tables, chairs, sofas, books, 
eau-de-Cologne bottles, fans, toys, glasses, chil- 
dren, and we grown people, — all joined in the 
irresistible rush to the side of the vessel. The 
cry of one of the children, who thought she was 
going overboard, afforded us great amusement 
after everything was righted — "Mamma! I do 
not wish to go ! " I tried to seize hold on H. 
to steady myself, but only caught sight of him 
and little Madame and a sofa trending off in 
quite another course from that to which I was 
impelled. During many months of sailing I 
have never encountered any disturbance more 
serious than a rough sea. In this region storms 
rarely come in moderation ; nothing short of a 
cyclone in which no ship can live relieves the 
elements. 

We lay four days in Menado, at the north- 
eastern extremity of the island of Celebes. The 
inhabitants are as widely different from those of 
the southern isles of the archipelago as are 
Swedes from Italians. Their complexion is yel- 
lowish, and the hair is quite straight. They are 
noticeably neat in dress, and all wear hats. 



304 MEN ADO. 

The pretty town had been wrecked by an 
inundation the previous week, and though re- 
freshingly green overhead from abundant foliage, 
every garden was destroyed, every road was 
washed bare or into deep ruts, and the base of 
each house was discoloured and shabby-looking. 
People had been wading waist-deep in their 
dwellings, and far into the sea rode a forest of 
uptom, down-washed trees. A little child was 
picked up near the shore riding on a sow's back, 
where it had kept its equilibrium by clinging to 
the ears. 

At Surabaya we parted with much sorrow and 
regret from our true friends the Da Fran9a 
family. They return to Portugal by Singapore, 
while we wait the Queensland mail for England. 
I have no words to express what we owe to 
them. Elders and children, they compose the 
most lovable family imaginable, and we found 
them as courteous and kindly to the stranger as 
they were affectionate amongst themselves. 

Now I have done. We sail on 9th July, and 
when the song of the reapers floods the fields, 
we shall touch our own island shores. The 
beautiful archipelago we are so soon to leave 
behind us will, I think, from the discomfort and 
even danger of travelling in such a tropical 



CONCLUSION. 305 

climate, never become to any extent a resort for 
tourist voyagers. It will be left for the few 
who must dwell in it at the call of duty, or who 
travel through it urged by enthusiasm. Neither 
stimulus buoyed me up ; I have simply been the 
voluntary companion of an ardent lover of 
Nature, the reflex of whose happiness I could 
not avoid sharing. But as long as memory 
lasts, pictures of face and form, of sight and 
sound, of day and night, of land and sea, will 
rise at call or flit before my vision ; the remem- 
brance of my sufferings will grow dimmer under 
the softening hand of time ; and I shall be able 
to say, what I now only faintly realise, that they 
are not worthy of mention beside the value of 
my experience as a Naturalist's companion in 
his roamings in Insulinde. 



THE END. 



PBIKTBD BY WILUAU BLACKWOOD AND SONS. 



SELECTED LIST OF PUBLICATIONS. 



HALF A CENTURY; Or, Changes in Men and Manners, 
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