CHAPTER XIV

GREAT NICOBAR—WEST AND SOUTH COASTS

"Domeat"—Malay Traders—Trade Prices—The Shom Peṅ Language—Place Names—Pulo Bábi—The growth of Land—Climbing a Palm Tree—Servitude—Population—Views on Marriage with the Aborigines—Towards the Interior—A Shom Peṅ Village—The Inhabitants—Canoe-building—Barter—The West Coast—South Bay—Walker Island—Chang-ngeh—Up the Galathea River—Water—We leave the Nicobars and sail to Sumatra.

We hove up anchor at 8 a.m.—the hour at which a breeze usually sprang up—and sailed for Pulo Bábi, a few miles down the coast, taking as passenger an old man named Domeat who had been staying at Kópenhéat.

He produced a number of chits for our perusal, and from one we learned that it was Domeat—now a toothless, but sturdy old gentleman, with nutcracker jaws and a benevolent expression—who brought news of the recovery of the body of Captain Elton, commander of the station gunboat, who was drowned in the surf while attempting to land at Trinkat Sambelong[80] village, on the east coast, in March 1881.

Most of the letters were written by Asiatics, and from them it seemed that the last Malay vessel to call at the islands arrived in 1877. Many formerly came to purchase coconuts, but this people, like our own nation, has been ousted from the trade by the inhabitants of China and the Indian Empire.

CANOE AT PULO NYUR, GREAT NICOBAR.

According to our informant, the Chinese pay the coast natives one packet of tobacco (value 2½d.) for three bundles of rattan, while the Nicobarese, who act merely as middlemen, and have the export trade in their hands, only give the Shom Peṅ one packet for six bundles! The bush aborigines have no settled dwelling-places, but wander about, although they have good gardens established in various localities. Their language is quite distinct from the Nicobarese,[81] but each knows enough of the others' speech to make themselves mutually understood. Asked, however, whether further south we could get a man who knew the Shom Peṅ language, Domeat replied: "When one of us sees a Shom Peṅ he runs away, and when a Shom Peṅ sees a Nicobar man he spears him!"[82]

Misunderstandings frequently occurred when we talked to him about the various places on the coast. The name given on the chart is often not known to the natives: the Chinese have another name, which is not given on the chart, and the natives have a third, but are generally familiar with that used by the traders.

I believe the following to be correct:—

Chart.Trade Name.Native Name.
Pulo Kunyi,Pulo Kunyi,Pulo Kunyi.
Casuarina Bay,——Teh-hmeul.
Dagmar R.,——Ta-tí-al.
Kópenhéat,Telok Bintang,Kópenhéat.
Táeangha,Pulo Nyur,Kassandun.
Koé,Pulo Rotan,Koé.
——Pulo Bábi,Kánal.
Henpoin,Pulo Bharu,Henpoin.
Megapode Island,Pulo Kotah,——
Henhóaha,Pulo Paha,Henhóa.
Chang-ngeh,Pulo Chaura,Chang-ngeh.
Galathea R.,——Sakheer.
————Badói.

We arrived off the village at 11 a.m., and worked in to an anchorage against a land breeze. The junks in whose company we had been at Kondul were already in the harbour—a square indentation, fringed with coral. With a look-out at the masthead we got in without accident, and anchored in a fairly sheltered position, but some distance outside the other vessels. Small streams debouch in either corner of the bay; but the village, which consists of a dozen or more houses, and is the largest on the west coast, lies to the south of the harbour, with the usual accompaniment of numerous coco palms.

As a heavy surf was breaking on the reef fronting the houses, we rowed up the bay and landed by a small hut, beside which was a well of good water, and from thence reached the village by a path leading through scrub and many screw-pines.

Interviewing the headman, we learnt that a Shom Peṅ settlement lay half a day's journey in the interior, and having arranged with Nyam (the headman) to guide us on the morrow, we set out, accompanied by his brother Puchree, on a stroll through the village.

This really consists of two settlements—that nearest the bay, Pulo Rotan or Koé, and the other to the south, which at high tide is cut off from the mainland by a marshy channel—Pulo Bábi or Kanal. There are more houses, both round and square than appear from seawards, but several are uninhabited and falling to pieces. Graves, placed between the houses, were marked by peeled sticks and young saplings, on which a foot or so of the branches had been left.

The land on which the village stood was of very recent formation, consisting entirely of sand, coral blocks, and débris of the roughest kind.

It would seem that the Nicobars are not only an area of elevation (as shown in Kar Nicobar, Trinkat, etc.), but also one of growth, as appears to be the case in the islands where there is a central mountain mass with radiating arms and shore plains; in these the central high land was first elevated, and formed a core for the extension of land by the agency of fringing reefs where the surrounding sea-bottom has only a slight inclination.

Of this latter phenomenon Pulo Bábi appears to be an example, since, for some distance inland the shore is flat, and composed of coral sand and débris, with a substratum of fresh-looking coral rock. The bay is becoming choked with coral, and between living reef and shore are broad belts of slimy mud, a little lower than some of the coral heads beyond, where the reef, having reached low-water level, has stopped in its growth and died. Meanwhile it is extending outward on its own talus, and at the same time débris and sand are cast continually shoreward, and, with the help of smaller coralline growths, fill up the interstices of the shore coral until a solid bank is formed, which, by further aid from the waves of the sea, and from the land and its vegetation, is raised above high water and in time becomes dry land.

Such action depends on the tides, slope of the sea-bottom, and the relation of one part of the shore to another in regard to contour and position, but particularly on the currents, which in some places would accumulate material and in others remove it.

The crowns of the palm trees were frequented by flocks of the black and white nutmeg-pigeon (Carpophaga bicolor), an uncommon bird in such a situation. Of those we shot, several lodged in the trees and were fetched down by the natives, who climbed with the ankles joined by a belt or piece of rattan, and who, when lifting the feet, did not clasp the trunk with the arms as we should, but placing one round it, pressed against it with the other hand.

We found two Shom Peṅ youths in the village, who seemed to be in a state of easy servitude, and were used for such work as carrying nuts or fetching water.

There were between twenty and thirty men and boys dwelling here, and the skipper (with whom the people were more communicative than with us) said, only four women! Although, by going to Naukauri Harbour, said Puchree, they could obtain wives,—who, however, refused to leave their own homes,—he lamented the almost total impotence of himself and neighbours in the way of offspring. Asked if they ever married Shom Peṅ women, he said, "No, they didn't like them; they were dirty and didn't wash"; and when we suggested that he should catch (tangkap) a young one, and first train her for a year or two, and teach her manners—"Too much trouble."

"March 25.—We met Nyam and a companion at his house about six o'clock, and after a walk of half a mile reached the bank of a little river some 30 feet wide. Here lay a canoe, and paddles being produced we travelled up-stream, wading now and again over the shallows, until, having progressed a mile or so, we landed on the same bank at a spot where a second path commenced. This we followed for 2 miles in a northerly direction, crossing by the way the stream itself and a little tributary by bridges of sapling, and so arrived at the Shom Peṅ village.

"We had already seen two kinds of buildings amongst these people; here we met with a third.

"The houses—five in number, and recently constructed—stood on piles about 12 feet high; in several cases a live tree being built in. These supports were strengthened by diagonal struts—a most uncommon form of scaffolding among savages. The floors were made of saplings placed side by side, and the side walls, about 3 feet high, of split nibong palm; while the roofs, which just afforded head-room at the apex, were roughly thatched with whole palm leaves, piled on butt downwards.

HUTS OF THE SHOM PEṄ.

"Each house was about 8 feet square, and at one end of each a small platform was attached, on which was the fireplace, with cooking apparatus of bark sheets covered with large green leaves, to prevent charring. In a corner of each hut was a shelf of split sticks, and a long trough of split and hollowed palm trunk sloped from ground to floor for the dogs and other animals to mount by. The ladders for human use were about 18 inches wide, with cross-pieces fastened on by rattan bindings.

"The village lay at the foot of a hill, above which the sun appeared between nine and ten o'clock, and was bounded on the other side by the bed of a stagnant brook. The trees about the houses were festooned with bundles of rattan, and the ground round them was littered deeply with the refuse scrapings. A few chickens and a miserable pariah cur or two wandered about, and several little pigs were caged in the huts.

"This party seemed less well-to-do than the others we had seen, for their only dress was cotton kissáts and waistcloths, and while possessing several pieces of bark cloth, in which they wrapped themselves at night, they had apparently no further clothing. Strings of coloured beads were worn about the neck, and their ear-lobes were distended by wooden plugs from 1 to 2 inches in diameter.

"They were of a most apathetic disposition. A few words were exchanged with our guides, whom the women immediately supplied with lime and sireh, and then, renewing their own quids, sat crouching in the doorways of the huts, or perhaps attended by request to the head of a neighbour who might be troubled with a parasitical itching. Although free from elephantiasis, the body of each individual was covered with the scaly symptoms of ringworm—tinea circinata tropica.

"After we had measured the whole party, there was sufficient light to photograph the village, to which, in the dark shade of the jungle, I gave an exposure of ten minutes. The portraits of the natives were taken under difficulties, for the only rays of sunlight that filtered through the branches shifted slowly with the rays of the sun, so that by the time the subject was posed and focussed, he was generally outside the patch of sunshine.

"We bought all the little property visible, and then returned to the schooner by path and canoe, having found that the so-called 'half-day's' journey resolved itself into a matter of little more than an hour.

"Later in the day we strolled through the coast village to watch the progress towards completion of a partially-finished canoe we had purchased. With a little supervision it was only a short afternoon's work for three or four men to cut and fit, by means of their dáos, the stem and stern, cross-pieces, outriggers, and float, and quickly do all the fastening required with tough strips of rattan.

"Our guides of the morning were rewarded with a sarong apiece and we purchased with rupees a pair of captive nutmeg-pigeons—somewhat uncommon pets—and a couple of grey-headed parrots (P. caniceps) that had been obtained as fledglings by the villagers.

"Once again on board we found canoes arriving with loads of coconuts and numbers of fowls. Old shoes were the principal articles demanded, but the skipper got six chickens for a white linen coat. Our estimable captain is actuated by a commercial spirit; his invariable greeting to a new arrival is 'Ah, hang sudah datang! apa hang bawa?'—'Ah, you've come! what are you bringing?'"

"March 26.—Spent an hour on shore, and then left with the breeze at 7 A.M. Sailing slowly down the coast we passed Henpoin, Pulo Kotah, and Henhóa, at all of which places are many coco palms, with one or two houses visible. Two or three miles inland a range of hills runs down the coast, and must form the eastern slope of the Galathea Valley; until their foot is reached, the country is low and level.

"Off South Point the wind became very light at midday, and subsequently we worked up and down against a strong north-westerly tide, barely maintaining our position. After a small advance, at 10 P.M. we were back again where we had been at noon, so, getting soundings of 9 fathoms, we anchored for the night."

MEN AND A BOY OF GREAT NICOBAR.

"March 27.—At daybreak the current was running S.S.W., at 2 knots. This slackened at nine o'clock, and with a light breeze from the N.E. we gradually made our way towards South Bay, until, the wind becoming more easterly, we tacked up it, and anchored towards the top in 7½ fathoms.

"The head, where the Galathea River debouches, is low and flat, but on either side the shores are a continuation of the hills, containing the river. The eastern cape is hilly and broken, but the western extremity tails off in a low stretch of flat land.

"Close to the western shore is Walker Island, a small grey block of rock that has been likened to a fort with sentries—the latter represented by columns of stone protected from detrition by boulders of harder formation, which once, of course, rested on the surface of the islet.

"Coconut trees grow all round the bay, and on the starboard hand we saw a dozen houses forming the village of Chang-ngeh, from which a canoe put off with two men. They, and two others far advanced in decrepitude, are the sole inhabitants of this portion of the island. Formerly there was on the eastern shore a village called Badói, but after some of its inhabitants had been killed by Shom Peṅ, it was deserted.

"We got ashore near the village at a spot sheltered from surf by a projecting reef. Close inspection showed that the houses were far more dilapidated than they appeared to be from the sea.

"Having obtained megapodes, dongos, and sunbirds by a short excursion into the jungle, we walked along the beach to examine the river mouth, in view of a journey up-stream next day.

"Coming from the right, where it runs for some distance parallel to the shore, the river turns suddenly and makes its way to the sea through a stretch of sand, leaving on the left a quiet backwater into which the current swirls. A continuous line of surf broke across the entrance, which was very narrow."

"March 28.—At sunrise, having made all preparations overnight, we loaded the boat with food and bedding, mosquito nets, and collecting apparatus, and put off for the expedition up-river.

"First we pulled ashore and landed some of the cargo, for with it all on board and a crew of five, the boat was too heavy to negotiate the breakers safely. Then we lay off the river's mouth watching the sea; swell after swell came sliding in, until one larger than the rest swung by, leapt up, and with the white foam rippling along its summit, fell over with a thunderous crash. Pulling hard all, we swept along on its top, then passed through the surf, and lay a few moments later on the quiet surface of the river without having shipped a drop of water. When the things landed had been fetched, we reloaded and pulled up-stream; the last glimpse of the sea showing a Chinese junk rounding the eastern extremity of the bay.

"At first the river was about 30 yards wide and ran between low banks covered with stretches of mangroves and forest alternating, both fronted by a border of nipah palms. About 2 miles onward the shores rose a little, and the vegetation changed to a tangle of jungle, with a network of climbing bamboo, rattans, and various kinds of creepers. The course of the stream ran through no heavy forest, and in many places the banks were fairly open, covered with scrub and patches of thick grassy vegetation.

"Never was such a river for twisting and turning, and often as we steered round its S-shaped bends we seemed to swing the sun right round us.

"We rowed along steadily for a couple of hours, and then seeing a lime tree overhanging the stream, stopped to gather a hatful of fruit. A few yards further on—the bank about 12 feet high—one of the men spied a rough hut, a mere platform with a shade of palm leaves; but when we landed, although odds and ends of rattan lay about the ground, it was evident that it had been unoccupied for some time.

"Now and again along the river we saw coco palms and bananas, while kaladies or yams grew plentifully at the water's edge. The banks were covered here with jungle and there with stretches of reeds, looking not unlike clumps of Indian corn.

"Flocks of parrots flew screaming overhead, herons flapped lazily away in front, and now and then a monkey, startled by the unusual sight, cursed us vigorously from a tree. Often a tiny ceyx—a flash of lilac and orange—darted across the stream, and oftener still the little blue bengalensis flitted away before us.[83]

ON THE GALATHEA RIVER, GREAT NICOBAR.

"Once we ran aground on some rocks, and twice had to scramble on fallen tree-trunks spanning the river, and force the boat beneath them. But for such incidents we progressed steadily upwards until eleven o'clock, when we pulled to one of the banks, here only some 15 yards apart, and tying up the boat, proceeded to camp during the heat of midday.

"Then, after breakfast had been disposed of, it was delightful to lie on one's back in the shade of the jungle and watch the waving leaves against the sky; to search with the eyes for graceful ferns and orchids drooping from the branches overhead, and in a dreamy semi-slumber to listen to the calls of the birds, and the faint voices of the men as they rambled about in the forest. Presently, as the sun reached its highest point, all became quiet, and we dozed an hour away, to wake up, and—after boiling the kettle for some tea—start off once more.

"Gradually narrowing, the river maintained the same character, save that the banks became more open. At one fallen tree we had to unload the boat and haul it bodily over; several times we got round or under such obstacles with difficulty; and so, rowing and poling as the stream lessened, we went on, until at about five o'clock, the river, now only 25 feet wide, became so shallow and obstructed by fallen branches that we were forced to cease all attempt at further progress, and so made camp at a spot about 16 miles up-stream, almost in the latitude of Pulo Bábi. In the rainy season it would perhaps be possible to ascend a few miles higher.

"While daylight lasted, the boat was partly unloaded, sticks cut to support the mosquito nets, and supper prepared—heaped-up plates of snowy rice, eked out by various tinned commodities. Then after re-charging the dark slides beneath a rug, and covering the baggage with a tarpaulin in case of rain, we turned in.

"It was a glorious moonlight night and the cicadas sang us to sleep from the trees, while the mosquitoes hummed away vainly and viciously outside the net.

"Now and again, for a time, came the cry of some startled bird and the croaking of the tree-frogs; but when these died away the prevailing silence was broken only by the sound of the dew dripping from the trees, and the occasional fall of dead leaves or rotten branches."

"March 29.—We turned out at daybreak while the river was shrouded in mist, and after chota hazri, started down-stream.

"The water had fallen a foot during the night, and for some distance we could only use the oars to pole with. Presently, however, we were paddling quickly down the river, until we came to the fallen tree, where it was again necessary to unload.

"All the contents were stacked on the bank, and then, while the boat was on the trunk, I walked along the latter to take a snap-shot of the scene from the shore. Just as it was half-way across, our craft stuck fast; all, gathering themselves together, gave a mighty heave, and suddenly it slipped over, taking everyone by surprise. 'Din fell into the water, 'Dul fell into the boat, Mat straddled the tree, and Abbott, by a display of flying, gibbon-like agility, succeeded in landing safely in the stern. It was all very amusing to see from the shore; far too funny, indeed, at the time for me to get my photograph.

"This was the only obstacle, for, thanks to the low tide, we found no difficulty in passing beneath the other fallen trunks. About ten o'clock we were back at the hut and lime-tree, and stopped there for breakfast; then, after gathering a bucketful of fruit, were off again.

"With the sun almost overhead, it now became very hot on the water; but, pushing on, we reached the river-mouth soon after one o'clock and unloaded the boat once more before taking it through the breakers. From inshore they seemed much more formidable than from seaward, whence their height and the curl of falling water were hidden. We lay a short distance from the long, white lines that travelled across the bay, and watched them, backing and pulling to keep our place.

GALATHEA RIVER (highest point reached).

"A series of breakers fell, then in rolled a monster, and as it broke before us, we dashed in the waiting oars and sped forward at the next. Up went the prow, and we were over and in the hollow before a second; then over that and yet another, and we lay on the gently-heaving surface of the bay.

"Back once more beneath the schooner's awnings, we found a welcome supply of thirst-quenching coconuts, brought freshly from the village.

"The junk, after taking in a supply of water, had left the day before. It is customary for these vessels, after their business on the west coast is over, to sail round the north end of the island when leaving for Acheen, in order to make a slight gain to windward; but this one, having learned that we were going direct, decided to take a similar course."

On March 30 we went ashore for the last time and found a good supply of water at Badói, about 100 yards inside the jungle. The stream dies away before reaching the sea, but above the watering-place it can be followed for some distance by wading up the rocky bed.

We were now full up with wood and water, and having obtained a good supply of fowls and coconuts from the village, were ready to put to sea, so left at ten o'clock in the evening, with a light wind, and a tide running S.W.

"March 31.—At 9 A.M. the point below Mataita-âṅla bore W. about 7 miles. Squalls of wind and rain occurred, and a succession of waterspouts travelled across the horizon; between-times and for the rest of the day, we experienced a dead calm, and rolled about on the swell. Position at 4.30 P.M., 8 miles east of Campbell Bay."

"April 1.—There has been scarcely any wind, and we drifted N. by E. until Menchal and Kabra hove in sight. A school of sharks visited the schooner, and one about 7 feet long that was hooked, was given his quietus with a revolver bullet when hauled to the surface.

"Our live stock is flourishing. The three sober-looking parrots down in the cabin are becoming tamer day by day, and the pair of nutmeg pigeons will already eat chopped coconut from our hands.

"The monkeys, however, are of most interest, and are given daily exercise on deck. The male is an adept at the most horrible grimaces, but is an arrant coward, and, when startled, rushes to his companion, and, although the heavier of the two, puts his arms around her and is carried back downwards all over the place. When it is time to re-cage them, we have only to drive them together and they run into each other's arms, clasp convulsively, and incontinently roll over, when, as they lie squealing and grimacing on deck, they may be picked up and put back in their box. On one occasion this manœuvre was executed on the rail, and they fell overboard, sinking without a struggle, locked in a close embrace.

"Fortunately for them, the Terrapin was becalmed at the time, and they were recovered, to be very subdued for a time after the rescue, but none the worse for their experience.

"At 6 P.M. a light breeze sprang up, with signs of a squall from the north, and carried us along at a 2 to 3 knot pace through the night. A porpoise was harpooned under the bow, but broke away before it could be secured.

"On the 2nd the wind was light all day, save for a squall that compelled us to lower the foresail. Towards evening, Mount Thuillier, bearing W. by N., was just visible 50 miles away. The breeze freshened, and with darkness the last sign of the Nicobars dropped below the horizon, while daybreak revealed ahead of us the rounded summit of Pulo Bras."

HYDROGRAPHICAL CHART OF THE ANDAMAN AND NICOBAR ISLANDS.