CHAPTER X
KACHAL AND OTHER ISLANDS
Heavy Surf—Teressa—Bompoka—A Native Legend—Hamilton—Chaura—Wizardry—Pottery—Kachal Typical of the Tropics—Nicobarese Dress—West Bay—Lagoon—Mangroves—Whimbrel—Formation of Kachal—Birds—Visitors to the Schooner—Fever—Chinese Junks—Thatch—Relics—The Reef—Megapodes—Monkeys—Full-dressed Natives—Medicine—A Death Ceremony—Talismans—Fish and Fishing—Geology.
For some hours after we left Dring the breeze was very faint, but at midday a heavy squall with rain overtook us and carried us onward, so that we were soon sailing along the southern shore of Teressa.
The island of Bompoka, which lies but a short distance from its south-east end, is high, with a central tableland, whence the ground slopes gently downwards in every direction, and is covered with forest and grass.
Seen from a distance, Teressa looks like two islands, for it is elevated at either end: the northern part is covered with forest; the southern end is all grass-land, save for a fringe of scrub and large coco-palm groves along the coast. This portion of the shore is very rocky in places, and numerous points of off-lying reefs project from the water.
A heavy swell was running from the south-west, and rank on rank of breakers—10 feet or so in height—were rolling shorewards, throwing up clouds of smoke-like foam. It would have been impossible to land without danger of losing guns, camera, etc., so we decided not to make the attempt, and therefore put about for Kachal, with the less regret in that the locality did not seem to hold out much promise as a collecting ground.
There is no harbour on its coasts, for the shores of the island, which is crescent-shaped, are almost unbroken. We afterwards heard that, two or three months previously, a Chinese junk, whose crew all reached the shore, had been wrecked on the reefs fronting this part of the island.
In their customs, style of architecture, and in the more general absence of talismans and demon-exorcising regalia, the people of Teressa and Bompoka are said to resemble those of Kar Nicobar, but their language possesses great dialectical variation.
Teressa is 34 square miles in area, and rises in the north to nearly 900 feet. The bed rock is serpentine, covered with sandstone, and there is a fringe of recent coralline alluvium round the shore, while beds of coral on the high land of the interior indicate upheaval since the formation of the older alluvium.
The soil of the grass-lands is of an igneous clay formation—magnesian clay, formed by disintegration of the plutonic rocks, whose upheaval in two successive stages brought the Nicobars into existence. Overlying it in many places are the beds of coral, and to these formations the grassy downs of the island are confined—lallang, with occasional screw-pines, a bracken-like fern (Gleichenia dichotoma), delicate ground orchids, and various scrubby plants (Kydia calycina), which point to the occurrence of annual fires. The transition from grass-land to high forest, which appears on the sandstone, is very sudden.
The graceful Nicobar palm (Ptychoraphis augusta) is common in the jungle. Whole groves of this beautiful tree fill the moister ravines, and give a characteristic appearance to the forest. Nearly equally conspicuous are large numbers of Sterculia campanulata.
Fruit and vegetables are the same as are found on Kar Nicobar, with the addition of tobacco, of which several small fields have been raised from seed imported from the west coast of India.
The census returns of 1901 give the population of Teressa as 624, making the number of inhabitants 50 more than in 1886.
Bompoka, having the appearance of a truncated cone, and 634 feet high, is an oblong-shaped island, about 4 square miles in area, separated from Teressa by a channel 50 fathoms in depth, and scarcely more than 2 miles wide. Its inhabitants, who number less than a hundred, and the people of Teressa, have an interesting legend to account for the formation of the island. Once upon a time a vessel, having a prince for its captain, visited Teressa, where he, on landing, was murdered by the inhabitants. His wife was taken on shore and treated with the greatest respect; but, since the spot on which her husband's blood was shed was always before her eyes, she was very miserable. One night, however, she was advised in a dream, by her mother, to remove the bloody spot from Teressa if she would be happy. This she did, and Bompoka was thus separated from that island.[59]
The geological formation and the vegetation are similar to those of Teressa. The inhabitants have good plantations of fruit-trees—papaya, plantains, and limes—neatly fenced to keep out the pigs. At Poahat, on the west coast, good water is to be obtained from a stream at the back of the village.
These two islands, with perhaps Chaura, seem those referred to by Hamilton as the Somerera Islands, so called because "on the south end of the largest island is a hill that resembles the top of an umbrella or somerera. They are fine champaign ground, and, all but one, well inhabited. The island Somerera lies about 8 leagues to the northward of Ning and Goury (the Nankauri group), and is well inhabited for the number of villages that show themselves as we sail along the shores. The people, like those of Ning and Goury, are very courteous, and bring the product of their island aboard of ships to exchange for commodities. Silver nor gold they neither have nor care for, so the root of all evil can never send out branches of misery, or bear fruit to poison their happiness! The men's clothing is a bit of string round the middle, and about 1½ feet of cloth, 6 inches broad, tucked before and behind, within that line. The women have a petticoat from the navel to the knee, and their hair close shaved; but the men have their hair left on the upper part of the head and below the crown, but cut so short that it hardly comes to their ears."
Chaura, which lies 7 miles north-westward of Teressa, has an area of about 3 square miles only. It is generally low, and the only jungle it possesses is a little at the south end, where it rises almost perpendicularly in a rocky pinnacle to a height of about 350 feet, having the appearance, with the contiguous low portion, of a broad-brimmed hat. It was on this account termed Sombrero by the Portuguese navigators of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, who were probably the first Europeans to have any commercial dealings with the Nicobarese.
The people are very well off, on account of their trade in canoes and pottery: but to obtain the articles imported by the traders, canoe voyages are made to other islands, as the anchorage at Chaura is exceedingly precarious, and after the native requirements are provided for there are but few nuts to spare for trade, so that vessels are hardly ever known to call. The island is the best cultivated in the group, and besides abounding in oranges, limes, and other fruit, is covered with coconuts; and toddy being common, drunkenness is fairly prevalent. One of the institutions of the place is the door mat; for a large flat sponge, which is found in numbers on the reefs, is placed at the bottom of every house-ladder, for the natives to wipe their feet on!
Although the smallest, it is at the same time the most densely populated of the islands, for, in spite of decreasing numbers, which may perhaps be due to emigration, the people of Chaura number (January 1901) some 522 in all; in 1886 the population fell only a few short of 700. We were told that they are taller, more powerful, and darker-skinned than the other Nicobarese, and also dolichocephalic.
Through an exaggerated reputation for magic, they are greatly feared throughout the group, and have for this reason developed a most independent and overbearing demeanour. Various circumstances assist the cultivation of these traits—the value in which their canoes[60] are held throughout the Archipelago, for one; but the most important of all is the monopoly[61] which the island of Chaura possesses in the manufacture of pottery.
Throughout the Nicobars there is an inherent belief that should anyone—other than a native of Chaura in Chaura—attempt to make a vessel of clay, he is doomed to almost immediate destruction. This fate was formerly supposed to follow the act of even eating food cooked in any pottery other than manufactured on the island, but this part of the superstition is now losing force, and the Nicobarese freely provide themselves with pots made at Port Blair.
The women of Chaura—for the men take no part in the construction of the pots—cleanse and prepare the clay, by washing out the rougher particles and kneading it with fine sand. The operator seats herself on the ground by a slab of wood, on which she lays a ring of coco-palm pinnæ neatly bound together. Upon this ring she sets a shallow dish, neatly lined with a circular piece of plantain leaf. With a lump of clay, the bottom of the vessel to be constructed is moulded in the dish, and upon this basis, by means of ropes of clay, the work is built up, the operator turning the pot round and round, and shaping it with her eye and hand. The vessel is set aside on a platform under the hut for a day or so, to dry: only the smallest kind can be prepared for the kiln without an interval of waiting.
The pot when dry is scraped with a shell, and then reversed, and all superfluous material removed by means of a fine strip of bamboo moistened with water, while the fingers, also wet, are gently passed over the inner and outer surfaces in order to smooth them. The pot is then replaced on the platform for ten days more.
Chaura Pottery.
The kiln is prepared by sticking bits of broken pottery in the ground, a few inches apart, and on these the pot is set upside down. In the space beneath it, a layer of fine wood ash, and a quantity of coconut-shells and scraps of firewood, are heaped. A wheel-like object, larger in circumference than the pot, is placed on its upturned base, and against this rest sticks of firewood stood on end. When the fire is kindled, two or three women fan the flame, and with wooden pokers prop up and replace the fuel. When the vessel is baked, it is removed with the same implement and placed on dry sand.
Coloured stripes are laid on by means of strips of unripe coconut husk pressed against the vessel while hot—the acid juice turning black the moment it touches the heated surface. Finally a handful of moist husk is passed over the inner and outer sides, imparting a light-copper colour to the parts not stained by the deeper dye, and the vessels are stored for a time to season.[62]
The pots vary in size, from a capacity of half a pint to five gallons or more, and also in shape, some having a perfectly straight plain lip, while in others the edge is turned out or rounded, but all are alike in having a more or less rounded base.
After leaving Teressa, we encountered fresh breezes and squally weather until we anchored in darkness near the shore of Kachal. At daybreak next morning we weighed, and again started—with scarce a breath of wind—for the bay on the west coast where we intended to stay.
With Kachal we returned again to the tropical island of common type in these seas, for it is entirely jungle-covered, with no traces of grass-land visible.
On account of their geological structure, the Nicobars fall botanically into two divisions—the northern islands, including perhaps Nankauri, are largely covered with grass, with coco palms and pandani growing in the interior; while the southern group, consisting of Kachal, with Great and Little Nicobar, are entirely forest-covered. Tilanchong, although belonging to the others by position, should nevertheless be classed with the latter islands.
Several canoes from a small village on the north-west coast came off to inspect the schooner as we slowly drifted along. Their occupants seemed less prepossessing than those people we had just left, for they looked somewhat dirty in person and were dressed in discarded old clothes, or the cheap cottons and loose trousers supplied by the Chinese. The Nicobarese are not so partial to water as the Malays, and they by no means improve matters by unnecessarily clothing their bodies with cast-off garments and once gaudy cottons, which they never, or rarely, dream of washing.
We reached West Bay by midday, and anchored in 2½ fathoms. A junk was lying farther in, the fourth we had seen. From the southern shore, coral-reefs project for some distance, both into the bay and seaward, and at low tide the swell breaks upon them heavily; while, at the same time, two rocks project above water inside the harbour, near the north beach, and must be borne in mind when choosing an anchorage. Fifteen or sixteen houses, surrounded by coconuts, are scattered along half a mile of beach, and at its head the bay narrows and then extends inland among mangroves and their attendant swamps.
Our first expedition was up the bay, which we found opened out into a shallow lagoon nowhere more than 2 or 3 feet deep. The dinghy grounded often, and we were unable to reach firm land anywhere, so thick was the belt of mangroves. Rowing up some of the small creeks winding among them, we saw several flocks of herons (Sumatranus javanica), while sandpipers, curlew and whimbrel were common on the mud-banks, and pigeons and parrots in the taller trees.
In several places occur those stretches of dead mangroves only seen when the trees are large, and which are infallible evidence of the growth of land; for when such trees first took root, a certain amount of salt water must have been present, while, when they are found dead, the roots are nearly always silted up with solid matter, which first causes the water to become stagnant, and finally replaces it. Having served their purpose, they die, and stand white and gaunt until brought down by the wind or gradual decay.
At sunset, large flocks of whimbrel, travelling seaward down the mouth of the lagoon, afforded some fair shooting, for they were very wild, and flew past us at an amazing pace as we fired at them from the boat hidden in the mangroves.
On the northern side of the bay, where much of our collecting was done, we found, behind the houses, a number of paths leading among coconut and pandanus palms, tangled grass, and bushes. Beyond this scrub, in which gaudy-leaved crotons were not uncommon,[63] was the jungle, fairly open, but without any large trees.
The land in the neighbourhood of this coast, and probably as far as the hills inland and on the eastern side, which rise 800 feet, is of very recent formation, and consists of almost undecayed coral débris mixed with sand and vegetable loam, a compound scarcely sufficiently fertile to support a heavy forest at present.
Pigeons and glossy starlings were common, and we obtained specimens of a small forest hawk which had not been met with on the more open island (Astur, sp. nov.): we shot also a new chestnut myna (Sturnia, sp. nov.), somewhat similar to that met with on Kar Nicobar. Grackles (Eulabes intermedia), of which only one specimen on Nankauri had yet been seen, were fairly numerous, and the presence of a drongo, the first of its kind observed since leaving the Andamans, was recorded.
Numbers of Blyth's dove (Macropygia rufipennis) frequented the scrub near the village. We were astonished to find the crops of all those shot completely filled with large red chillies only. It is almost impossible to conceive anything more pungent than a red pepper, and the bird must have an extraordinary interior to patronise such a diet exclusively. This unusual food had no effect on the flesh, for its flavour in no way differed from more rationally feeding members of the same species.
Now and again we would have visitors on the schooner, for in the evening people often came on board to watch us as we sat preparing specimens, and although on these occasions we generally obtained information from the natives concerning the locality and their customs, they were, as a rule, more bent on satisfying their own curiosity than our desire for knowledge.
One man showed us a ring, about 1½ inches in diameter, of a bone-like substance, and related a story about it of some large jungle-dwelling animal, from whose eye, or eye-socket, it was made. "This animal," he said, "was bigger than a pig, and very scarce"; further than that he was not intelligent enough to give a description!
Another native, "Yassan" by name, brought a letter originally belonging to his father, and written by de Röepstorff, who is now almost forgotten. Yassan was more intelligent than his companions, and we made arrangements with him to obtain for us a collection of charms and curiosities.
He was a man of some standing locally, was thrice-wedded, kept each of his "better-halves" in a separate house, and was at the time blessed with three children, all the offspring of one proud mother. Our conversation was carried on in Malay; but on one occasion, when we were at fault as to his meaning, he was asked to explain himself in Hindustani. He smiled rather wickedly, and immediately surpassed a Kling in volubility. Thereafter we stuck to the easier language, and guessed what we did not understand. These natives undoubtedly include some wonderful linguists among their number.
Once or twice the chinchews[64] of the junks brought for treatment Chinese suffering from malaria; the crews, they said, always contracted fever when visiting the Nicobars, and even if they do not suffer from it on the spot, it invariably occurs before reaching Penang. These particular vessels had been only a month at Great Nicobar, and a fortnight at this place, obtaining copra and rattan, but already several members of the crews were incapacitated from hard work.
Those junks trading at the Nicobars—where they remain during the greater portion of the north-east monsoon—that come immediately from Singapore, but originally from China, make the voyage and return between the last-named two places in the other (south-west) monsoon, which is the bad weather season in these waters, but the contrary in the China Sea.
The houses in the village were very similar in appearance to those we had just left, but were roofed with attaps of pandanus leaf. The process of thatching cannot be an enjoyable occupation, for either edge of the pandanus leaf is armed with a row of thorns, while the lower side of the mid-rib is provided with a third row set in the reverse direction; thus in brushing against a clump of young pandanus one is not only pricked when approaching, but scratched while getting away.[65]
Behind the village we found a fairly recent grave, around which the possessions of the deceased had been deposited—a wooden chest with the lid wrenched off, clothing, spoons, forks, tools, axes, dáos, and other things, forming a miscellaneous collection that was rapidly rotting away. There they would stay until destroyed by the exposure, for no one would venture to help himself, however valuable or useful the articles might be.
In front of one house was a solitary example of kanaia, set up on land, however, instead of in the water: possibly the south-west monsoon blows too strongly on this coast for their general erection. The name of this village is Ol-kolo-kwák.
To reach land on the southern side of the bay we had to cross a broad reef of coral and coral sand, thickly overgrown with grass and corallines, and dotted with various species of holothurians. The forest on shore came right down to the water; and once inside it, we found ourselves in very truth in the home of the megapode.
No sooner were we under the trees than we immediately saw the birds—for the jungle is very open—running about, singly or in parties of twos or threes. From all round came their cries, perhaps best described as loud, ringing calls ending in a rapid cackle, to the sound of which the following syllables bear some resemblance—"ūrr-rak, ūrr-rak, ur-r-rak, rak, rak, rak, rak!" The megapode hardly ever takes to flight when startled, but runs quickly away among the bushes; the only occasion on which I ever saw these birds use their wings was when once I suddenly walked into a party of four, scratching at the foot of a large tree. Two ran off, but the others rose clumsily in the air, and after flying a short distance, attempted to settle on a low branch, on which they alighted very awkwardly, and immediately lost their balance and fell off. The feet, although very large and strong, are not adapted for grasping, and the tail is far too short to be of any use as a balance.
Several birds seem to occur somewhat locally: it was on this side of the bay only that we obtained Spilornis minimus, while the little forest hawk seemed confined to the northern shore.
We were unable to reach the hills in the centre of the island from the harbour, as the swamp at its head stretches out long arms to right and left, cutting off the land bordering the coast from the interior.
Kachal is the most northerly of the Nicobars in which monkeys are present, and, taking into account the scarcity of other mammalian fauna and the absence of this genus from the Andamans, it seems certain that they have been introduced. Their non-occurrence in Tilanchong—an island eminently suited to their requirements—goes to bear out this statement; for, so far as we know, it has never been permanently inhabited, and thus, unlike the other islands, offers no reason for monkeys being brought there.
The people of Ol-kolo-kwák told us these animals were very numerous in the jungle round the village, but several days passed before we met with them. On the first occasion, we each obtained a specimen from the same herd. They turned out to be macaques—one was a fine old male, weighing 21 lbs., an unusually large size—with fur so dark as to be almost black, but greyish-white on the under parts. Having regard to the colour, the species has since been named Macacus umbrosus.
We saw them only once again, and then I found myself within a few yards of an immense male who was on the ground. My cartridge missed fire, and, immediately the click of the falling hammer caught his ear, he bolted. This proved to be our last chance of obtaining another example from Kachal. That one always loses the best specimens, is proverbial: this monkey was the biggest macaque I had ever seen.
Such mishaps during one's earlier opportunities are always most vexatious; later we found monkeys very numerous in the other islands.
On 22nd February a Chinese junk passed northward, and the same day another arrived, and anchored in the harbour; that night there was carousal in the village and the noise of much singing.
Visitors to the Terrapin were fairly continuous during our stay here, and the appearance of some of them was as ludicrous as it was striking.
One man, who wore a battered "billycock" on his head, had encased his feet and legs in a pair of rubber jackboots; between these extremities he sported a sailor's jersey, and the usual T bandage.
But, impressive as was this man's apparel, it was quite put out of the running by the grande parure of a fellow-dandy who arrived later. A top-hat worn sideways, and draped with a spotted cotton handkerchief where a mourning band might be, a gunner's jacket, thickly laced with yellow braid, and a light-blue pair of Chinese breeches, combined harmoniously (!) with heavy bead necklaces, and a face profusely bedaubed with red oil-paint. This gentleman's idea of refreshment was brandy, and to obtain it he had furnished himself with a supply of fowls, with which he was prepared to purchase it at the rate of a chicken a drink.
When not arrayed in these exotic costumes, everyone wore merely the neng, and perhaps a fillet of twisted cotton about the head.
A man who came to be doctored was treated with a glass of Eno, and an aloes pill, which he slowly sucked! This latter is the sort of medicine natives like, and as the awful bitterness of the drug became evident to his palate, the fellow doubtless thought it very effective treatment indeed. Give a native 10 grains of quinine in sugar-coated tabloids, and he probably holds you a very poor sort of doctor; but dissolve that same quinine in a large glass of water, and make him drink the solution slowly—he will perchance recover on the spot! Faith and imagination, both in savagedom and civilisation, have a lot to do with these matters.
The women of the village were very shy and timid, but we now and again saw one or two going about their daily business; the children, however, could not get used to us, and fled screaming whenever we appeared.
A few days before we arrived at the village a woman had died there, and during our stay a performance for ridding the place of the ghost was gone through.
A large catamaran was constructed and rigged like a schooner, with sails made of green coco-palm leaves. The local doctor or bobo[66] then went through certain ceremonies, at which we were not present, and finally seized the ghost or devil and threw it into the boat, which was pushed off, and drifting away, was carried out to sea, where it disappeared.
The Malays have an almost similar custom to this, in the employment of the kapal hantu (ghost ship). This they use during times of pestilence, or in cases of individual sickness; but instead of forcing the evil spirits into it, they are attracted by a show of coloured rice, etc. Once they are cajoled on board, the vessel is pushed off, and carries the illness to whatever fresh locality it may reach.[67]
The day before we left, Yassan, who had promised to collect, brought in a number of charms—figures of crocodiles, birds, women, men, and some fever pictures, called here déūshi (derived from the Portuguese for God, and is applied to the representations of the Deity in the pictures on boards and spathes). The people had but few scruples with regard to parting with such things. After being paid, he asked for a chit and a bottle of rum, "to use, mixed with eggs, as a medicine for his stomach!"
In the waters of the bay we caught quantities of small fish, which, although easily obtained by us with the seine, cannot be a staple of diet in the case of the natives, who have no nets. I once observed a native in a canoe following a shoal, and making casts with a many-pronged fish-spear; he continually threw his weapon, but during the ten minutes I watched him, he caught nothing at all.
There is no good water here, and to fill our tanks we dug holes just above high-water mark; the liquid that filtered in was slightly brackish, and gave a heavy deposit of earthy matter.
Any quantity of coconuts may be obtained, with a few chickens and perhaps a pig or two.
Kachal is about 62 square miles in area, and reaches a height of 835 feet on the eastern side, which is composed of hills of calcareous sandstone and marbly slate, formed in deep seas during the Tertiary period. The western side, which is of very recent formation, consists of a flat shore plain of coralline alluvium, mixed with decayed vegetable matter and loam brought down from the hill. It is covered with dense forest throughout. The population is stated to be 281—an increase of 100 in the last fifteen years.