X.
The Nicobar Islands.
Stay from 23rd February to 26th March, 1858.
Historical details respecting this Archipelago.—Arrival at Kar-Nicobar.—Communication with the Aborigines.—Village of Sáoui and "Captain John."—Meet with two white men.—Journey to the south side of the island.—Village of Komios.—Forest Scenery.—Batte-Malve.—Tillangschong.—Arrival and stay at Nangkauri Harbour.—Village of Itoe.—Peak Mongkata on Kamorta.—Villages of Enuang and Malacca.—Tripjet, the first settlement of the Moravian Brothers.—Ulàla Cove.—Voyage through the Archipelago.—The Island of Treis.—Pulo Milù—Pandanus Forest.—St. George's Channel.—Island of Kondul.—Departure for the northern coast of Great Nicobar.—Mangrove Swamp.—Malay traders.—Remarks upon the natives of Great Nicobar.—Disaster to a boat dispatched to make Geodetical observations.—Visit to the Southern Bay of Great Nicobar.—General results obtained during the stay of the Expedition in this Archipelago.—Nautical, Climatic, and Geognostic observations.—Vegetation.—Animal Life.—Ethnography.—Prospects of this group of Islands in the way of settlement and cultivation.—Voyage to the Straits of Malacca.—Arrival at Singapore.
The earliest visitants of whom we have any certain information to this cluster of islands (situated in the Bay of Bengal, between 6° 50′ and 9° 10′ N., and 93° and 94° E.), appear to have been Arabian traders, who, on their
voyages to Southern China, landed on these islands, then known as Megabalu and Legabalu, on the first occasion in 851, and on the second in 877 of the Christian era. Abu-Zeyd-Hassan, one of these adventurers, gave a circumstantial account of these voyages, which has been translated into French, and published by Eusebius Renaudot.[1]
After the Cape of Good Hope was doubled in 1497, the Nicobars were chiefly frequented by voyagers in East Indian seas, but without any such visits having in the least contributed to enlarge our information respecting a group so important by geographical position.
In 1602, Captain Lancaster, commander of an English ship, passed ten days on the Nicobars, during which he hardly visited the southern islands, Great and Little Nicobar, but kept to the small island of Sombrero, of the northern cluster, now called Bampoka. He there found trees of such circumference and height, as would serve for the construction of the largest ships. Towards the middle of the seventeenth century, Koeping, a Swede, made his appearance at the Nicobars. Happening to be on board a Dutch vessel, which touched in 1647 at one of the islands, he thought he perceived among the inhabitants certain men furnished with caudal appendages, whereas it was their peculiar clothing, which consists of a long narrow piece of woven stuff, wound
round the body and then left to hang loosely, which gave rise to such a report. With the arrival in Indian waters of Dampier, that daring but most trustworthy of navigators, the information respecting these islands first becomes more definite. He landed in the north-western Bay of the largest of these, to which he assigned the latitude 7° 30′ N., and gave a most extensive narrative of his adventurous career from the moment he abandoned the corsair-craft he had brought from Europe to seek for assistance on the Nicobars, to the period when, after braving a tremendous storm in a canoe, along with seven of his companions in misfortune he landed half dead on the northernmost point of Sumatra about 1706.
In 1708, Captain Owen, another English shipmaster, paid an involuntary visit to this Archipelago, his ship having been stranded on the uninhabited island of Tillangschong, whence he escaped with his crew to the islands Ning and Souri, only four miles to the westward, apparently what is now known as Nangkauri. For the first time history now records an outrage of which the natives were guilty towards the strangers.
It would appear that the captain, after having experienced an exceedingly friendly reception, laid down his knife, upon which one of the islanders, very possibly out of curiosity, laid hold of it, pushed the owner aside, and ultimately possessed himself of the knife. On the following day, as Owen was taking his mid-day meal under a tree, he was set upon and killed by several of the natives, who shot him
down with their arrows; on the other hand the crew, consisting of sixteen persons, were furnished with canoes and provisions, so that without experiencing any further ill-treatment they were so fortunate as to reach Junkseilan.
The first essay towards a settlement of the Nicobar Islands was made by the Jesuits in 1711, upon the most northerly island of the group, Kar-Nicobar. They succumbed however to the noxious influences of the climate, and the few neophytes speedily sank back into heathendom.
The second attempt at colonization by Europeans took place in 1756, when Lieutenant Tanck, a Dane, after taking possession of the entire group in the name of his sovereign, the King of Denmark, named the islands "Frederiks Oerne" (Frederick Islands), and founded the first colony on the northern side of Great Nicobar, or Sambellong. In the year 1760 this was transferred by the followers of Tanck to the island of Kamorta, but here too after a short time the experiment failed, owing to the unhealthiness of the climate.
In 1766, fourteen Moravian Brethren were settled on Nangkauri, with the view of extending the influence of the Danish East India Company. The want of information respecting the necessary conditions under which this colony was called into existence, was in all probability the cause of its speedy declension. Within less than two decades the majority of these settlers had fallen under the baneful influence of the climate.
On 1st April, 1778, the Austrian vessel Joseph and
Theresa, commanded by Captain Bennet, landed on the N.E. side of Kar-Nicobar, or New Denmark. This vessel had been commissioned by the Imperial Government to select, in the name of H.M. Joseph II., Austrian plantations and commercial stations on the farther side of the Cape of Good Hope. Of this remarkable expedition nothing more has been handed down to us than is related by excellent Nicolas Fontana, who accompanied the expedition as surgeon, in his book of travels, which was published at Leipzig in 1782.[2]
Neither the libraries nor the archives of the empire seem capable of furnishing more definite information respecting this interesting undertaking. However, on the other hand, through the kind offices of H.I.H. the Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian with the Government of H.M. the King of the Belgians, there have been found in the Royal Archives at Brussels several highly important documents, bearing upon this expedition, of which M. Gachard, keeper of the State Archives in that country, had the kindness to furnish us with copies; and while we propose in the following remarks to avail ourselves of the most interesting data, the more particular consideration of this circumstance, so interesting in the history of the development of our trade, will be deferred till
the appearance of the commercial section of the Novara publications.
A Dutchman, named William Bolts, formerly in the service of the British East India Company, in the year 1774 made to Count Belgiojoso, at that period Ambassador in London of the Empress Maria Theresa, proposals for direct commercial intercourse between the Netherlands and Trieste and Persia, the East Indies, China, and Africa, with the object of supplying the harbours of the Austrian dominions with the products of India and China, without the costly intervention of other countries. This proposition having been brought under the notice of the Imperial Chancellor, Prince Kaunitz, at Vienna, was so cordially received by that minister, that Bolts received an invitation to present himself at the Empress's palace, in order to develope his plans more fully in person in that august presence. Bolts arrived in Vienna in April, 1775, and very shortly afterwards was invested by the Empress with all the requisite privileges for facilitating the prosecution of his great project. The imperial officials at Trieste were entrusted with the equipment and arming of the vessel, the supreme military council were required to provide the necessary pay for the soldiers and subaltern officers, and Bolts by special commission was formally empowered in the name of the Empress Queen, as also in that of her successors upon the throne, to take possession of all the territories which he might succeed in getting ceded by the princes of India, for
the behoof of such of Her Imperial Majesty's subjects as should purpose trading with the Indies.
It was the wish of the Government that the first expedition should take its departure from Trieste; Bolts however opposed this, for the reason that his vessel must take part of its lading from London, but declared himself prepared to make the most strenuous efforts to found a mercantile house in Trieste, and to take such precautions as should result in the second and all future expeditions being dispatched from Trieste.
Bolts hereupon first proceeded to Amsterdam with his newly acquired privileges, and thence to London, as yet without being more fortunate in his attempt to set on foot the proposed association in the one locality than in the other. At last, at Antwerp in the Netherlands, he succeeded in interesting in his project a certain Baron von Proli, and two merchants, by the name of Borrekens and Nägeles, and with these three persons he entered into a contract of association, on 20th Sept. 1775. At the same time a fund of £90,000 was raised for the armament of a second trading vessel to the East Indies and China, and out of the same amount to establish a mercantile house in Trieste.
In possession of £25,000 sterling, which he had procured from his associates, Bolts proceeded to London, where he purchased a vessel, which he named the Joseph and Theresa, put a portion of her cargo on board, and on 14th
March, 1776, set sail thence for Leghorn. Here certain articles were to be taken on board, which the Government had promised to have ready, and which consisted of copper, iron, steel, and tools. Before Bolts left harbour on his voyage to the Indies he was invested by the Empress with the grade of Lieutenant-Colonel in their service, and for the better prosecution of his objects was provided by the State Chancery with comprehensive powers,[3] and a pass for barbarous countries, called a "Scontrino."[4] The Empress at the same time provided the daring adventurer with letters of introduction under her own hand to the Emperor of China, the "King" of Persia, and the Indian satraps whose dominions he was to visit.
Baron Proli, one of the chief partners, went first of all to Vienna, and thence to Leghorn, and concluded an agreement with Bolts to dispatch a ship to the Indies in each of the years 1777, 1778, 1779, the cargoes of which should be worth at least £30,000 each, while Bolts, on his part, engaged to remain in the Indies three and a half years from the day of his departure, there to found factories, and to lay
out to the best advantage the money realized by the sale of the merchandise consigned to him. The Empress Maria Theresa rewarded Proli for services already rendered, as also for those which he undertook to perform in the establishment of trading-exchanges in Trieste and Bruges, for the support of the oversea commerce of the Austrian and Belgian provinces, by raising him to the dignity of Count.
The ship Joseph and Theresa, bound for the east coast of Africa, as also for the shores of Malabar, Coromandel, and Bengal, set sail from Leghorn in September, 1776, with a crew of 155 men. Unfavourable winds compelled Bolts to make the Brazilian coast, in order to take in fresh stores. Thence he lay a course for Delagoa Bay, on the S.E. coast of Africa, opposite the island of Madagascar, on which, on 30th March, 1777, he was so unfortunate as to get stranded, when he was compelled to start a portion of his cargo overboard. Bolts, however, turned to excellent account his stay on this coast, having purchased from two African kings, named Mohaar Capell, and Chibauraan Matola, a site of ground on both banks of the river Masoûmo, and, at a total expenditure of 126,267 florins (about £12,600), in which was included the cost of constructing the necessary vessels, founded a factory, for whose protection he also erected two small forts, which he furnished with cannon, and named after his two illustrious patrons, Joseph and Theresa.
After a more protracted stay on the coast of Malabar, where he purchased from the Nabob, the celebrated Hyder
Ali Khan, a number of plots of ground in the vicinity of Mangalore, Carwar, and Balliapatam, the very centre of the pepper trade, and erected a factory at an expense of 28,074 florins (£2800), this enterprising man set sail for the Coromandel Coast and the Bay of Bengal, and about the commencement of 1778 visited the Nicobar Islands, in order there also to found a factory. Unfortunately, of this visit there nowhere survive any detailed particulars, and the only document extant under Bolts' hand, which can throw any light on the subject, is a statement of the expenditure incurred in erecting a fort on the Nicobars, which, together with the purchase of a goëlette, and a snow, or two-masted vessel, for the coasting trade between Madras, Pegu, and the group of islands, amounted to 47,659 fl. 48 kr. (about £4760).
At the close of 1780 Bolts returned to Europe, and in May, 1781, cast anchor in the harbour of Leghorn. His exertions and his speculation had not been attended with the success anticipated, and despite fresh assistance afforded by the Austrian Government to the Association, which at first seemed to promise a more auspicious future for the undertaking, yet the political complications of the period, and especially the sudden, totally unlooked-for rupture of peace between France, England, and Holland, ere long entailed utter ruin on the trading company, which, in the year 1785, found itself compelled to stop payment.[5] Bolts died at Paris in April, 1808, in
utter destitution, and Michaud, in his Biographie Universelle, dedicated an article to this hardy and enterprising, rather than shrewd and prudent, adventurer.[6]
About two years after the appearance of the Austrian ship in the Nicobar Archipelago, the Danes endeavoured to found there a missionary station of Moravian Brothers. Towards the close of 1778 the missionaries, Hänsel and Wangemann, sailed from Tranquebar to Nangkauri, where they arrived in January, 1779. In 1787 the mission at Nangkauri was once more abandoned, when the only surviving Moravian Brother returned to Tranquebar, and shortly after to Europe.
In 1795 an Englishman, Major Symes, touched at Kar-Nicobar, while on his voyage as Envoy to Ava and Burmah. His observations there may be found in the second volume of "Asiatic Researches," p. 344, in an article entitled "Description of Carnicobar."
In 1831, Denmark once more made an attempt to colonize, by means of a missionary enterprise, the group formerly known as New Denmark, and occasionally as Frederick Islands. Pastor Rosen landed in August of that year on the
island of Kamorta, and first set up his establishment on the so-called Frederick Hill, then on the adjoining Mongkata Hill; somewhat later on the island of Trinkut, and lastly on the shore immediately beneath the Mongkata Hill. In December, 1834, after about a four years' stay, Pastor Rosen left the islands, and in 1839 published, at Copenhagen, his own experiences and personal observations, under the title: "Erindringen om mit Ophold paa de Nikobariske Oerne" (Recollections of my Residence on the Nicobar Islands).
In 1835, the Roman Catholic Bishop of the Straits of Malacca dispatched to Kar-Nicobar two French missionaries, the Fathers Chopard and Borie. But after a certain lapse of time, during which their missionary efforts gave promise of the most pleasing results, and when they had lived about a year on the island, the pious work fell through, owing to the credulity and prejudices of the natives, to whom the two missionaries were represented by the crew of a ship from the adjacent shores of the continent as English spies, whose object probably was to ascertain the products of the country, which thereupon would speedily be annexed by the English Government. The missionaries had to flee, and Borie expired in the arms of his companion before he could get off the island. Chopard afterwards, in the year 1849, published his adventures in this group of islands in the "Asiatic Journal of the Indian Archipelago," under the title, "A few Particulars respecting the Nicobar Islands."
In March, 1845, Mr. Mackey, Danish Consul in Calcutta,
set on foot a small expedition to the Nicobar Archipelago. That gentleman hoped to find amongst the southern islands strata of coal, and made a voyage thither in prosecution of that object, on board the schooner Espiègle, commanded by an Englishman named Lewis, and accompanied by two Danes, Mr. Busch, the sole commander of the expedition, and a certain Mr. Lowert. By the end of May the adventurers were once more in Calcutta. With the exception of a few lumps they had not found coal-beds on any part of the island, while they lacked the physical strength requisite for founding the agricultural colony, which it had been intended to set on foot at the same time. The scientific results of this voyage are comprised in a small brochure, "H. Busch's Journal of a Cruise amongst the Nicobar Islands," (Calcutta, 1845).
A further scientific exploration of the Nicobar group was made by the naturalists attached to the Danish corvette Galatea in the course of their voyage round the world in the years 1845-7. A thorough examination of the Nicobars was one of the chief objects of the expedition set on foot under the auspices of the Danish Government. On the 25th January, 1846, at Nangkauri, Captain Steen Bille took formal possession of this group of islands in the name of H.M. the King of Denmark. Two natives, father and son, named respectively Luha and Angre, the former resident in Malacca, and the latter in Enuang, were on that occasion installed as chief magistrates; each being at the same time provided with a staff bearing the cypher of Christian VIII.,
and instructed, by means of a document drawn up in the English and Danish languages, on the subject of their duties, which consisted principally in hoisting the Danish Standard on the arrival of foreign ships in the harbour of Nangkauri.[7]
After the decease of Christian VIII., the Danish Government, in consequence of the violent political agitations of the period, did not show itself disposed to make practical use of their possession of the Nicobar Islands by any lasting colonization, but on the contrary in the year 1848 dispatched the royal corvette Valkyrien to the Archipelago, to bring away the flag and bâtons.[8]
In consequence of this, according to "Thornton's Gazetteer of India," the chiefs of the island of Kar-Nicobar hoisted the English flag, and through certain English merchants resident in Moulmein, expressed a wish to be permitted to
place themselves under the protection of the British Crown. This information, however, seems to be inaccurate, in so far as it professes to describe the conduct of the native chiefs. The inhabitants, it is true, hoist any flag given to them, because they are fond of imitating European customs, and by so doing believe they secure themselves against the pretensions of other nations; but there is nothing they so much dread as a regular occupation of the islands, and on every appearance of a war-ship are forthwith filled with alarm lest they should be about to be deprived of their liberty, and—their cocoa-nuts. Indeed they have a saying widely diffused among them, probably through the craft of some smart chiefs, that whenever a European should settle among them all the cocoa-nuts will drop from the trees, and they will thus see themselves deprived for ever of their most important means of subsistence. It is, on the contrary, more probable that the English ship captains, who trade with these islands in order the better to secure their highly profitable trade in cocoa-nuts, made some propositions to the East Indian Government to take possession of this important group, by a similar procedure as that by which the Andaman islands were annexed somewhat later.
Since the unsuccessful attempt at the end of last century to extend Austrian commerce with the Indies and the coast of Africa, by founding a few colonies in those places, no vessel sailing under the Austrian flag had again visited the Nicobar Islands, and accordingly, on the dispatch of an
Imperial ship-of-war to those waters, it was naturally wished that she should on her voyage to China visit this group, on whose shores the Austrian flag had once been unfurled as a symbol of possession. On this occasion, however, the object was rather scientific than political. It was intended, so far as the time allotted for visiting these islands and the appliances at hand admitted, to undertake inquiries as to the most important geodetical points, together with astronomical, magnetic, and meteorological observations, and at the same time to make investigations and collections of the various objects of natural science, and thus to complete as it were the valuable labours carried out in 1846 by the Danish Expedition to the Nicobar Islands. The following pages are simply limited to giving a popular narrative of our own stay on this interesting island group, while more circumstantial information of the various scientific results obtained there will be deferred till the appearance of the special works being drawn up by the members, each in his own special section.
On 25th February, at 10 A.M., the naturalists, accompanied by the officers in charge of the scientific apparatus, and the midshipmen, after very considerable difficulty, succeeded in effecting a landing on the island of Kar-Nicobar, in a bay protected by a coral reef (by observation 9° 14′ 8″ N., and 92° 44′ 46″ E.), between the villages of Moose and Sáoui. At this point the surf beats incessantly over the huge reefs of coral upon a waste of gleaming white sand, which stretches in graceful curves from one point of rock to that next adjoining.
The few fruits which have been thrown up, or been carried hither, probably from some distant shore, have struck root in this coral sand, and a coronal of luxuriant palms, with their slim stems, and loaded with thousands of nuts, serves as food for man.
In the vicinity of the spot where we disembarked was anchored a barque from Moulmein, with a Malay crew, the majority of whom were tattooed on the thigh with extraordinary skill. They had been for a considerable period taking in a cargo of cocoa-nuts, which the natives had been exchanging against various merchandise. About thirty dusky natives, almost entirely naked, and for the most part without any head covering beyond the splendid raven locks which hung down over their shoulders, some carrying in their hands cutlasses, others long wooden lances tipped with bone, stood near the beach, and while we were yet a little distance off, called out to us in broken English, and with visible anxiety, "Good friend? No fear!" apparently anxious, in the first place, to have confirmation from us that we were really "good friends," and that they had nothing to dread, before they ventured quite close to us. When they were no more than twenty paces distant, they suddenly came to a halt, upon which some of their number, who appeared to be chiefs, gave their spears and cutlasses to those around, and advanced to us with a tolerably friendly air, at the same time stretching out their hands by way of salutation. They were for the most part large, well-proportioned men, of a dark bronze colour of skin.
The most disagreeable feature is the mouth, which, in consequence of the loathsome custom of incessantly chewing the betel-nut, seems to have become utterly distorted in shape. In a few cases this filthy habit had resulted in such deformity among the teeth, that these were barely visible between the thick swollen lips, like a malignant tumour! The apparel of the natives is pretty universally entirely primitive, consisting of nothing but a long very narrow strip of dark blue linen, which they wind round the body, bringing it from the front between the legs backwards, when it is made fast to the girdle, and the ends left to hang loosely down. Some of the natives make a very singular use of the different articles of old clothes which they receive in exchange from the ship captains, or have had given as a present, as they appear now in a black hat, now in a coat or a shirt, without a vestige of other clothing!
Almost every native we saw brought to us a soiled, crumpled-up testimonial, setting forth his good character, and his honesty in the cocoa-nut trade, which he had received from various ship captains, who bartered their merchandise for ripe cocoa-nuts, which they afterwards sold in the East Indies or Ceylon at an immense profit. The greater number of these testimonials were written in English; we found only one in German from the skipper of a Bremen ship, and one in Dutch. In these certificates are set forth the objects best worth enquiring for, as also a statement of the articles bartered in the course of exchange for cocoa-nuts, a practice
which is not alone of the utmost utility for those who may afterwards visit the islands for purposes of commerce, but also throw a most interesting light upon the evidences of civilization among the natives.[9]
These testimonials also frequently contain very humorous remarks about the unsuspecting natives, who assuredly would be less eager in producing them if they were acquainted with the contents. One of the earliest to extend to us the hand of welcome was a native who called himself Captain Dickson, a handsome, slim, dark brown figure, with very long, fine, glossy hair hanging over his shoulders, and neatly gathered together with a bark ribbon. In the document presented to
us, which was dated 15th January, and bore the signature of the captain of the ship Arracan, there was written beneath, "Dickson, though a shabby-looking fellow, is a man of substance." In a second testimonial, it was said of a native: "He will do honour to England when she comes!" a remark which leaves plainly apparent the hope of the ship captain that these islands will speedily be occupied by the English. These certificates likewise contain a variety of important hints, especially with reference to the method of dealing with the natives, the most commodious anchorage, the difficulty encountered in landing, &c.[10]
Thus the most cursory communication with the natives convinced us that they must already have repeatedly done business with English ship captains, who had imparted to them a slight knowledge of the English language, and a few of the simpler principles of humanity and religion. When we gave them to understand that we visited them as friends, they replied in their broken English: "Not merely friends—brothers! all brothers! all only one father and one mother!" Hereupon each proceeded to light one of the cigars that had been presented
to them, while, for want of any other receptacle, they secreted the remainder in the wide holes transpiercing the lobes of the ears, after which they with the most frank munificence, and in token of their hospitality, pulled a number of young cocoa-nuts from the tree, and gave us their fluid contents to drink. Very singular was the method in which this was effected. They tie their feet together by the ankles with a loop of the same bast, or bark rope, which, when employed in fastening their long black locks, usually forms such a picturesque frontlet, and then clamber with the agility of cats to the summit of the palm, throw to the bottom the separated fruit, and slide swiftly down to the ground again. Holding in one hand a tolerably heavy young nut, in the other a sharp cutlass, they proceed at one sure blow to open the nut, in such manner that a small orifice is made, through which the refreshing liquid contents can be conveniently quaffed. When this has been evacuated the nut is usually split in half, in which form it serves as a most nutritious food for the fowls and hogs. Despite their hospitality, there was perceptible in all of them great anxiety, and the upshot of all their conversation always resolved itself into the stereotyped questions, "What did we really require? whether we wished to purchase cocoa-nuts, and would soon be leaving?"
Great and natural as our desire was to penetrate from the shore, thickly covered with its belt of cocoa-nut palms, into the rather flat interior, and thus obtain a nearer view of the hive-shaped, basket-formed huts which were visible under
the forest trees, we judged it much the better course to endeavour first of all to make the natives more confiding, and for that purpose invited them to accompany us on board. Eight of their number were finally induced to follow us, and came alongside in their elegant canoes, formed of the wood of the Calophyllum inophyllum, one of the most splendid trees of the primeval forest of the islands. As soon as we reached the frigate, only a single one, Captain Dickson, could be induced to clamber up of the man-ropes; the rest did not venture to leave their canoes, and one, who called himself Captain Charlie, a short, lank little fellow of boyish appearance, who for all apparel wore a dirty cloth cap on his head, trembled with terror through his whole frame when he saw our big guns. Captain Dickson, too, did not seem to feel himself altogether comfortable while on board, and although there was much to excite his curiosity, he soon longed to get out of the large ship, back again into his own frail skiff. Quite peculiar was the impression made upon him by a pair of live cows; such large animals he gave us to understand were not found upon his island.
Meanwhile a number of natives had approached the frigate in their canoes, bringing swine, fowls, plantains, yams, and eggs in hollowed-out cocoa-nut shells, which they offered as presents, but at the same time inquired what we intended giving them in return. They greatly wished for biscuit, brandy, medicines, clothes, but above all else for black hats, which most probably results from their having occasionally
seen the captains of English ships wearing round hats, whence they now seem to imagine that such a head-gear is the insignia of captain's rank, or of a chief.
Their knowledge of money was confined to Rupees, which they discriminated into two sorts, viz. the ordinary East Indian coin, and the English sixpenny-piece, which they called "small Rupees," covering with them, by way of ornament, the ends of the small bits of bamboo which they usually wear through the hole that transpierces the greatly distended lobe of the ear.
Of the two Catholic missionaries, Borie and Chopard, who in 1835 had remained a short time on the island, not one of the natives could give us any particulars; and likewise of the Danish corvette Galatea, which visited the group in 1846, they had but a dim remembrance, and even this of a far from complimentary character; the poor people having been overwhelmed with the apprehensions that their island was about to be taken possession of, and themselves exposed to a lingering death by hunger. "Danish bad people," they exclaimed, "wanted to take our island. Suppose I could come to your island and take it? Not good! no good people!"
We returned on shore with the natives, who, in consequence of their friendly reception on board, had already become somewhat more tranquil and trustful. Tents were now pitched, the astronomical and geodetical instruments, together with the barometer and thermometer, were adjusted, the tide-gauge fixed at the most suitable point, and the island
traversed in all directions for scientific purposes, so far at least as the density of the forest and the mistrust of the natives would permit.
On the very same day we visited the Cove of Sáoui, on which is situated the village of the same name, whose chief is called "Captain John." This worthy had received by way of present an old cast-off blue uniform frock, and was now making strenuous exertions to squeeze his all too little flexible limbs into this tight thick cloth coat, and to button it, despite the tropical heat, round his naked body up to the very throat. He was anxious it should not be reported of him that he did not sufficiently value the distinction awarded him, or did not comprehend how to make a proper use of it. Unlike the rest of his compatriots, Captain John also wore shoes and pants, and in consequence openly claimed to belong to the privileged classes. He was surrounded by a considerable number of natives, who presented themselves to us, as Captain Morgan, Captain Douglas, Dr. Crisp, Lord Nelson, Lord Byron, Lord Wellington, and so forth, having been indebted to the singular whimsies of some English captains, who thought it a good joke to confer on these filthy brown people the illustrious names of the hereditary and intellectual aristocracy of Great Britain.
Captain John accompanied us along the coast to his own domicile by an exceedingly difficult and sunny path, having designedly concealed from us the existence of a much more commodious track through the forest to the village, which contains
only seven houses. These are erected in a broad open space, and in consequence of the great humidity of the soil during the wet season, consist of eight or ten poles, from six to eight feet in height, so that a man can easily pass under them. They comprise but one large apartment, into which access is obtained by a neatly-carved ladder of bamboo-reed, which during the night, or when the occupants leave the hut, is usually taken away, so that, without using locks or bolts, it is pretty difficult to get in. The flooring is constructed of bamboo planks, bound together with Rotang (Calamus Rotang), in such a manner that the air from beneath can circulate freely through, and, in a similar way, the neat basket-work of the hive-shaped structure is vaulted. A dense straw thatch serves as well to keep out the sun's rays as the rain. The internal arrangements are very simple. In the rear is a sort of fire-place, a low block of wood hollowed out, and the cavity filled with sand and stones, upon which is placed a variety of utensils of clay, imported from the adjoining island of Chowry, the only island of the entire Archipelago where any industry is carried on. From the beams of the roof are suspended hollowed-out cocoa-nuts, strung together in pairs, and serving as water jars, as also elegantly plaited baskets and the few possessions of the family, and, lastly, some fruits, betel-leaves, and tobacco, as offerings to the Eewees, or evil spirits, in the event of their paying a visit, and having an appetite for such fare. Further forward, opposite the entrance of the hut, there are stuck on the side
walls, as evidences of special prosperity, numerous cutlasses, spears, javelins, and paddles. Besides, there are laid on the floor plaited straw-mats, which, rolled up during the day, are stretched out at night and, together with a small wooden stool for a pillow, serve as couches on which to repose. The hut might furnish sleeping quarters for about ten men. As, moreover, all the cookery is carried on therein, and there is no means of ventilating from above, the interior is completely saturated with smoke, and all articles are soon begrimed with smoke and soot. The natives, however, apparently take no precautions to get rid of the smoke, because it contributes to keep them free of a far more subtle foe, the mosquito, who, especially during the rainy season, becomes a formidable torment for their naked bodies.
In the shady space beneath the hut, which sometimes serves as a workshop,—if one may venture so to designate the industry of the inhabitants of the Nicobars generally,—Captain John had suspended upon a transverse beam a sort of swing, in which he occasionally rocked himself, much to his own delight, while for his guests was provided a wooden arm-chair, which had evidently come into his possession in the course of some barter with the captain of a merchant vessel.
The old chief spoke with marked predilection of the captain of the barque Rochester of London, a gentleman named Green, who, by his humane and strictly conscientious dealings with the natives, seemed to stand in high respect, and afforded a striking example of what beneficial influence is exercised
by individual English ship captains over the wild races with whom they come in contact in the way of trade, and how much they have it in their power to make their nation respected in all parts of the globe. We venture to assert that these English merchantmen, during their cursory visits, have done more towards paving the way for civilizing the Nicobars than the Danish and French missionaries during their residence of years. Not a single native understands one word of Danish or French, but almost every one speaks English, sufficient, at all events, to make himself understood in that language. The talkative old fellow next held forth an English Bible, which had been carefully stowed away on one of the cross-beams of his hut, and of which, as he told us, he had been made a present by Captain Green, on that gentleman's last visit. "This is my Jesus Christ," said Captain John, full of unquestioning faith in the marvellous power of Holy Writ:—"when I feel ill, I lay this little book under my head, and I get well again!" The worthy fellow could neither read nor, so far as we could perceive, did he precisely comprehend what was printed in the book, yet he seemed instinctively to feel that it was of no ordinary purport, and accordingly held his present in high honour, as a sort of talisman, whose power and efficacy one might confide in, without his being able precisely to account for such a belief. We turned over the leaves of the little volume, which had been issued by the renowned, wide-spread, and beneficent London Bible Society, and found on the fly-leaf some English verses
in Green's handwriting, and some encomiums upon the inhabitants of Kar-Nicobar, "The most virtuous people that Captain Green had fallen in with during eight and thirty years' sea-faring;" closing with the remark, "What a pity they have no missionary!"
In truth, the inhabitants of Kar-Nicobar are among the most perfect of human-kind. In their commerce with us they showed themselves to be child-like and ignorant, yet virtuous, trustworthy people, without ambition or the thirst of knowledge, but also without jealousy or envy. If ever any breach between themselves and the Europeans has been pushed the length of violence, such has pretty certainly resulted rather from their being in a measure suddenly incited to self-defence than from any open predisposition to mischief. When we inquired of one of the natives in what manner breach of faith is punished on the island, he replied with the utmost naïveté;—"We never have such—we are all good;—but in your country there must be many evil men, else what for would you require so many guns?"
In company with some of the natives we had proceeded upon a stroll through the magnificent cocoa forest along the beach, in the course of which we reached several huts scattered at random through the thicket, the inhabitants of which received us in the most cordial manner. Their wives and children however had all retired in a body, and during our entire stay never once made their appearance. Indeed the natives, in the hope of hastening our departure, pretended
that their families had in their panic fled into the forest, and must starve of hunger if we should remain long, and so prevent them from returning to their usual abodes. This however was but a hoax. The natives knew well enough where their families were lurking, and provided them with food and drink. This extreme shyness of the female portion of the population arises apparently from the incivilities of which the sailors of the merchant vessels were guilty towards the natives, whose moral feelings and delicacy of mind, considering their low state of civilization, becomes doubly extraordinary.
An attempt to penetrate deeper into the interior of the island was baffled through the obstacles which are interposed by the unchecked luxuriance of tropical nature. The vegetation grows densely down to the very sea, which is separated from the rich foliage above only by rocky reefs and narrow dunes of sand, washed by the furious surf. A broad belt of Rhizophoræ, gigantic Barringtonias, Pandanus, Areca, and cocoa-palms, encircles the island, to which succeeds a somewhat higher land grown with dense grass and interspersed with groups of trees, from which, lastly, spring a few thickly-wooded peaks of about 150 to 200 feet in height. Through this girdle it requires the most violent efforts to force one's way, while, on the other hand, it is wholly impossible, owing to the dense tangle of climbing plants and bamboo, to advance further into the forest over the grass flat, unless a path be previously cleared with hedge-knives,
which, even could more time be devoted, would call for immense exertion. Our researches therefore were necessarily confined for the most part to the coast region.
After several hours of strolling about, collecting and examining as we went on, the naturalists found themselves collected once more on the open space facing Captain John's hut, where meanwhile a pig had been roasted by our sailors in the open air, which we had purchased for three shillings of our corpulent friend Dr. Crisp. The natives had at first protested against this improvised hearthstone, being apprehensive lest the fire should reach their huts, the roofs of which are thatched with dried palm-leaves. "It is as inflammable as gunpowder," remarked the old chief in an anxious tone, when our people had with great want of foresight lighted the fire too near the buildings. Captain John and his kindred did not need to be invited twice to partake of our meal, at which they proved themselves excellent trenchermen. The inhabitants of these islands generally eat vegetables only, the use of meat being for the most part restricted to festive occasions. The use of salt is as yet unknown to them. They only use sea-water for the purpose of seething their pigs and hens, by which process the flesh gets a slight flavour of salt. During our luncheon, which had made the natives yet more confiding than ever, we found an opportunity of hearing something about the various festivals of the Nicobar islanders.
When a native falls down from a tree, or is bitten by a
snake, or is otherwise wounded or dies, the Nicobarians forthwith discontinue all work, and institute a fast, which they term Uraka. With the commencement of the S.W. monsoons or rainy season (when the wind comes from "yonder," quoth Dr. Crisp, and pointed with his finger to the southward), the inhabitants of Kar-Nicobar hold their chief festival, which lasts fourteen days, and is called Oïlere.
They have a similar festival at the end of the damp season, or N.E. monsoon, to which the pigs, which play quite a conspicuous part in it, impart an entirely peculiar character. Several weeks before the commencement of this fête, a large number of these unclean but useful animals are confined in small stalls, whence they are released on the feast-day, and set loose in a well-fenced space, where they are teased and pricked with lances by all the courageous, or rather mischievous, youth of the island. The Nicobarians seem to attach special importance to the swine being driven wild, and themselves engaged in a regular struggle with the infuriated animal, in the course of which severe wounds are by no means of rare occurrence. We ourselves saw several young natives, who a few days previously had been severely injured in a similar contest with some enraged pigs. When this anything but æsthetic spectacle has lasted some time, the pigs are killed, roasted on the fire, and devoured by the combatants and spectators.
A not less strange and even more barbarous festival is that which is held about the same time as the one just mentioned.
This consists in exhuming the bones of all those who have died during the year elapsed since the last N.E. monsoon, and have been interred in a sort of cemetery called "Cuyucupa."[11] They next bring these bones into a hut, seat themselves in a circle around the ghastly mementos, and shriek and howl as at the day on which the relation died. While this scene of lamentation is going on, a lighted cigar is usually stuck into the bony mouth of the grisly skull, after which the latter is consigned to the grave again. The rest of the bones however are either thrown into the deep sea or hid far in the forest, while at the same moment, as a farther evidence of sorrow, a number of cocoa-palms are cut down, and their fruit scattered to the winds. By such symbols they apparently wish to express their overwhelming grief, their weariness of existence, and their indifference to the most valued gifts of nature, so that they would even deprive themselves of the most universally necessary of the means of subsistence—were it not that, owing to the readiness with which the sea-shore palm is propagated, the nuts thus scattered at random, in all the indifference to sublunary considerations incidental to a paroxysm of grief, speedily strike root, and after a few years lift up their heads again in the forest, at once ornamental and nutritious.
At all these festivals the natives assemble in the various villages, and at these seasons spend days and weeks with each other. Earlier visitors to Kar-Nicobar estimate the number of villages on the island at about six or seven only. The natives on the other hand gave us the names of the following thirteen: Arrong (or Arrow), Sáoui, Moose, Lapáte, Kinmai, Tapóimai, Chukchuitche, Kiukiuka, Tamalu, Páka, Malacca, Komios, and Kankéna, which all together would hardly number much above 100 huts, and about 800 or 900 inhabitants.
Southward of our anchorage we fell in with a small stream, which near its embouchure on the beach was lost in a sand-bank. Some of the members of the Expedition explored it in a very small flat-bottomed boat, a Venetian gondola, which was transported across the bar in order to admit of its being sculled up the river. At first it was found to be about 2 1⁄2 feet deep, by about 12 to 14 yards in width; the general direction of its very sinuous course being towards E.S.E. All around the forest presented a scene to which perhaps only the fantastic whimsicality of certain theatrical forest sceneries might furnish a dim resemblance. Along the steep bank of the river rose to a height of nearly 100 feet the slender Nibong palm, adorned with blossoms and clusters of fruit, and close adjoining the graceful Catechu palm. Gigantic forest trees, with thick squat trunks, extended their shady masses of foliage far over the stream; screw-pines towering up from the scaffold-like arrangement of their numerous roots, were reflected from
the glassy bosom of the water; clumps of bamboo, absolutely alive with butterflies; nymph-like aquatic plants, mossy green banks, and tree-ferns with indescribably graceful corollæ, all combined here to form a landscape of the most enchanting richness, in the water, on the shore, and in the air. Suspended over the whole scene, partly in leaf, partly in bloom, a gigantic garland of climbing and creeping plants, in living cords of every variety of thickness, rose in a lofty arch above the limpid element, interlaced and girt round with thousands of blooming and flourishing parasites! Then, too, from amid the mysterious gloom started forth the strangest voices and cries, without our being able to descry the animals themselves. In the water, which was perfectly sweet to the taste, swarmed multitudes of fish of from one to four inches in length. After rowing about one nautical mile and a half up the stream, some rapids and rocks prevented our further progress, the stream itself being but twelve feet wide. A little further to the east occurs a similar small river, which however had even less water, and at its mouth is yet more sanded up and inaccessible than that above described.
After we had lain for six days at anchor on the N.W. coast of Kar-Nicobar, and were once more casting about how to make out our long-desired excursion through its almost impermeable forests, we suddenly perceived in the distance upon the beach two men in European dress, with muskets
upon their shoulders, who, conducted by some absolutely naked natives, speedily approached us. One, a fine-looking, well-formed young man of about 20, addressed us in French, saying he was supercargo of the Sardinian brig Giovannina of Singapore, and was occupied in taking in a cargo of cocoa-nuts upon the southern shore of the island. The natives had been so unsettled by the arrival of a war-ship, that they loudly affirmed a pirate ship had made its appearance, which would rob and destroy them all; whereupon the most anxious of their number entreated the few whites who fortunately happened to be among them to start immediately for the north side of the island, where the Colossus lay at anchor, so as at all events to ascertain what was to be their fate. In the course of the conversation which sprung up between ourselves and the two strangers, we found that the supercargo was a Frenchman, born at St. Denis in the island of Bourbon, and was named Auguste Tigard, while his companion was a Sardinian. They were both singularly pale and embarrassed on first falling in with us, apparently from surprise and delight at finding themselves so unexpectedly in the society of white men at so solitary a spot; ere long however they felt themselves more at their ease, visited the frigate, were provided with clothes, medicines, and wine, and at a later period were of much use to us in our intercourse with the natives. Tigard remarked that the sugar-cane, which at present grows wild on the island, could, judging by
his own personal experience, be very profitably grown for the production of sugar, as also that tobacco, cotton, and rice thrive in the most conspicuous manner.
At present the cocoa-palm is the sole plant which is cultivated by the natives of Kar-Nicobar. It supplies them with all they require for food and lodging, for house-furniture, or for commerce with foreign peoples. The stem of this slender column, from 60 to 100 feet in height, by about 2 1⁄2 in thickness, with its heavy green thatch of leaves, is very porous and slight looking, but is yet stiff and strong enough to furnish cross-beams, laths, and masts for huts and boats. The fibres of the bark and of the nut-shells (known in commerce as Coir) supply cordage and line; the immense fan-shaped leaf (3 feet wide by 12 to 14 in length) of the coronal serves as a covering for the roof, as also for plaited work and baskets. The juice of the nut, shaped like an egg, yet somewhat triangular, and about the size of the human head, prevents the native from feeling even in the slightest degree the absence of available spring water, and is the sole beverage which invigorates and refreshes the wayfarer through these forest solitudes. Frequently did we experience a glow of thankfulness to all-bounteous Nature, as often as some hospitable native handed to us for our refreshment, exhausted and thirsty as we were after our fatiguing wanderings, a green cocoa-nut, that vegetable spring of the tropical forest.[12] The kernel of
the ripe nut, thoroughly dried and pressed, gives forth a strong, clear, tasteless oil, which is used by the natives for anointing their skin and hair, and at the same time forms so important an article in European commerce, that above 5,000,000 ripe cocoa-nuts are annually exported through foreign mercantile houses in exchange for European fabrics. The hard shell of the cocoa-nut is the sole drinking cup of the Nicobar islanders, and the cooling, refreshing juice, which is extracted by an incision in the sheath of the palm-blossom before the latter has expanded, is the sole fermented beverage of which they make use. When brought into a state of fermentation it possesses similar intoxicating effects with the Chicha of the American Indian. Here, as among other half-savage races, we had occasion to remark, that the chief food of the aborigines is also made available for supplying them with their favourite liquid stimulant, and just as the native of India effects this purpose with rice, the African from the Yucca, or the Yam, the South-Sea Islander with the Kawa, and the Mexican with the Maize or the Agave, so the inhabitant of the Nicobars avails himself of the cocoa-nut at once for the supply of the first necessities of his existence, and the excitement of his brain by artificial stimulant.
On 27th February, towards evening, after a stay of seven days on the north side of Kar-Nicobar, which had been spent in scientific operations of the most varied nature, we again set sail, and next morning cast anchor on the south side of the same island, close to the village of Komios. The current, which at this point sets to the E.S.E., runs about three miles an hour, so long as the flood-tide continues, but as soon as the ebb-tide sets in, it chops round, and runs with greatly diminished velocity. The landings on the south side, which, on leaving the northern promontory, shows a much richer vegetation, are somewhat difficult to discover, since at almost all points reefs and coral banks project from the shore far into the sea, so that after doubling the cape it is necessary to stop short a pretty considerable distance from the land.
While we were coasting along the eastern shore we could perceive through the telescope, at the village of Lapáte, consisting of some eight or ten huts, a great number of women and children, who were rushing to and fro among the huts in the utmost confusion, till suddenly all disappeared in the forest. These were evidently fugitives from the north side, who were now once more betaking themselves to the forest, accompanied by the native females of the east and south sides, when they saw the dreaded floating giant approaching them. A beach of dazzling white coral sand, sprinkled over with thousands of living mussels, low melancholy-looking mangrove swamps, and a superb forest of trees with lofty stems, through which lay a beaten footpath, was all that the flat shore
offered to our view. The Frenchman already mentioned had indeed apprized the inhabitants of our arrival, and had endeavoured to explain to them our friendly intention, but it was in vain,—the greater portion of the population had taken to flight, and only dogs and armed men were left behind. Here also we could not see a single woman. However, we were informed by M. Tigard, who lived several weeks in the village of Kankéna, and had been treated by the natives as one of themselves, that the Nicobar women have their hair cut quite short, and simply wind round their dusky bodies, all smeared with oil, a piece of white or red calico at the loins. They are generally ugly, but strictly virtuous, and regard the Europeans as an inferior race, as compared with their native lords.
As we were making for the land in what is called Komios Bay, near the village of the same name (situate according to our observations in 9° 37′ 32″ N. Lat. and 92° 43′ 42″ E. Long.), a number of stalwart natives approached us from the forest, one of whom, who called himself Captain Wilkinson, proved to be the most intelligent and graceful of their number. He was extremely eager to give us a lot of information respecting the more southerly islands of the Nicobar Archipelago, with which the inhabitants of the southern coast appear to carry on more extensive commerce than those on the northern shore. During the N.E. monsoons, canoes occasionally start hence for the islands of Teressa, Bampoka, and Chowry. Wilkinson himself once visited these islands in the barque
Cecilia of Moulmein, with the view of fetching cocoa-nuts. The natives of Teressa, however, showed such determined hostility to the captain of the vessel, that Wilkinson advised him to abandon the island without further delay, ere the intended shipment of cocoa-nuts was completed.
Another English captain, named Iselwood, seems once to have carried over some natives of Teressa to Kar-Nicobar, and afterwards taken them back again. There does not exist, however, any regular commercial intercourse between Kar-Nicobar and the remaining islands of the Archipelago. The boats of the natives are much too small, and unsuitable to admit of their undertaking voyages to any distance, unless for some very important purpose, such, for instance, as bringing pottery ware from the island of Chowry, or Chowra, where alone in the Archipelago that manufacture is carried on.
The Frenchman, Tigard, affirmed that the natives constantly spoke of another race of men inhabiting the interior, who have but one eye in the middle of the forehead, who possess no fixed habitation, but pass the night among the trees like wild beasts, and subsist upon fruits and roots dug up in the forest. This superstition meets with the more ready acceptance among the natives, as not one of them has ever penetrated into the interior. All their villages lie along the shore, as far as the tract of coral sand reaches and the cocoa-nut is thriving. Here the frugal native finds all that is necessary to satisfy his very limited requirements. The cocoa-palm and
the screw-pine (Pandanus odoratissima), whose fruit forms his chief article of food, as also the betel shrub and the Areca palm, which furnish their cherished masticatory, grow here, and the coral sand, which can be worked into the most excellent lime for building purposes, is only used by them for the purpose of obtaining that ingredient so prejudicial to the teeth, which serves to impart to the betel the proper relish.
From a passing observation of Wilkinson's we gathered that occasionally, during the S.W. monsoons, earthquakes are experienced at Kar-Nicobar, and this volcanic indication is yet more strongly marked on the adjoining island of Bampoka. Despite the almost stifling heat, which raised the column of mercury to 99° in the shade, some of the members of the expedition endeavoured to penetrate, with indescribable toil, into the swampy forest tract along the shore, and eventually succeeded in bringing back several objects which, though few in number, were of the utmost importance, and well repaid their labour. Among the animals knocked over, there was a gigantic bat, or flying Maki (Pterops), the native name of which is Daiahm.
A foot-track led direct through the forest, cutting off the southern corner of the island towards the western side. The natives had in vain endeavoured, with their customary importunities, to deter us from following this path, assuring us that we should land ourselves in the thick of the jungle, which was full of poisonous serpents. However, nothing would serve us but to penetrate for once a little deeper into the
forest. A youthful native, of the most elegant and symmetrical proportions, followed us at a long interval, but disappeared finally in the woods. We wandered along in deep shadow between lofty colossal banyan trees with hundreds of stems, and trunks interlaced with enormous branches of ivy, from whose summits hung down lianas of all sizes and dimensions, by which one might have clambered to the top as though by a rope, between trees with smooth and glossy, or scarred and rugged, bark, which were thickly overgrown with parasitical plants. Enormous crabs, with fiery red claws, and bodies of the most lovely blue-black, fled before us to their lurking-places in the depth of the forest. On right and left amid the parched foliage was heard the rustling of lizards, and from the summits of the imposing forest trees resounded the musical hum of swarms of cicadæ, while green and rose-coloured parrots flew shrieking from branch to branch, and from the boughs and tendrils was heard the call of the Mania, or the cooing, murmuring love-note of the great Nicobar wood-pigeon. Gradually the noise of the surf became once more audible, like distant thunder, just where a few cocoa-nut palms and screw-pines mingled with the laurel trees around. We had reached the beach again.
The same day, towards 4 P.M., the frigate quitted the south coast of Kar-Nicobar, and steered in a S.S.E. direction towards the little island of Batte-Malve, about twenty-one miles distant, in the neighbourhood of which we kept beating about the whole of the following day, without being able, in
consequence of a stiff breeze and strong contrary current, to approach it sufficiently near for a boat to get to land, and thus enable us to make a more complete examination. Batte-Malve is a small, entirely uninhabited island, some two miles in length, and seems to be of a quadrangular form; the upper portion is thickly wooded; the highest elevation being from 150 to 200 feet. Towards the N.W. the island becomes somewhat flattened when approaching the coast, whereas on the west side, as also on the S. and S.E. shores, the rocks descend perpendicularly into the sea. According to our observations, instituted on the spot, there is in the longitude, as we ascertained it, when compared with that assigned by the officers of the Galatea, a discrepancy of ten nautical miles.
Early on the morning of the 3rd of March, while still to the N.W. of Batte-Malve, but steering a S.E. course, the islands of Teressa, Chowry, and Bampoka became visible at a distance of from eight to ten nautical miles. From the main-mast-head we could also descry further to the eastward the island of Tillangschong, to which we were now proceeding.
Next morning we found ourselves close in with its N.E. promontory. Both wind and weather were highly favourable, the look-out man was stationed upon the fore-top, the lead line on being hove overboard with forty fathoms found no bottom, and the water had the deep blue colour of the open ocean. We were therefore able to approach the shore fearlessly, and accordingly stood in till we were barely 100 feet distant
from the steep octagonal-shaped cliff, which rises like a bastion at the north extremity of the island. We now edged off with the frigate and ran under the lee of the land, coasting along the west side from north to south, never above 150 or 200 feet distant from the shore; so close, in short, that, standing on the deck, it seemed almost possible to stretch out the hand and touch the beetling shore-cliffs, every stone and shrub being perfectly distinguishable. Only a narrow rocky belt overhanging the surf appeared barren of vegetation, the entire island with that exception being covered with dense forest to the very summits, from 400 to 600 feet in height, of the steep, projecting, knob-like eminences. It was a delightful, never-to-be-forgotten sail along this rock-bound coast, the romantic beauties of which passed before us like green dissolving views. The sea was so smooth and peaceful that we seemed to be sailing on a mill-pond. At last we opened a small sandy cove, in which we perceived a few cocoa-nut palms directly opposite. Here the lead promised us good holding ground, and the anchor was accordingly let go.
One of the side-boats conveyed to land the officers entrusted with the astronomical operations, as also the naturalists. Only with the utmost difficulty was it possible to make way through the surf, and get under the lee of a reef, whence it was requisite to make a spring to get ashore. At the spot at which we landed (named by us Morrock's Cove, and according to observation in 8° 32′ 30″ N. and 93° 34′ 10″ E.) the island was almost exclusively clothed with trees and brushwood. Only
close to the shore did any cocoa-nut palms present themselves to the view. Although quite uninhabited at the period of our visit, it was evident, by the traces of abandoned fire-places, split cocoa-nuts, and so forth, that human beings occasionally make this island their abode, albeit the assertion repeated by several writers, that Tillangschong is the Siberia of Nicobar criminals, can only be set down to travellers' tales, or some utter misapprehension of the meaning of the natives. It would seem that the residents in Chowra and Bampoka come to this island from time to time, for the purpose of collecting cocoa-nuts, and the fruit of the pandanus. By dint of strenuous exertion we made our way along river-courses, which during the rainy season must rush down as most violent torrents, through a thick plantation of screw-pines, into the forest proper, which was overgrown with the most majestic representatives of tropical vegetation. To the botanist presented itself a great variety of interesting plants and timber; to the lovers of sport numerous descriptions of birds, and more especially pigeons, in such quantities that the various messes on board ship were amply provided with them.
Sundown saw us returned on board, when the anchor was once more weighed. During the night we got so close in with the north side of the island that, on the following morning, a boat well-manned and carefully equipped was detached with one of the officers, who was instructed to round the northernmost promontory, in order to examine the northern and eastern sides of the island, and rejoin us on its
southern shore. One of the zoologists, conceiving this minor expedition would furnish him with an excellent opportunity for examining some of the lower orders of marine life, attached himself to it. The frigate now put about, and coasted down the west side southwards. Seen from a distance the vegetation seemed quite of a European character. The eminences varied in elevation from 250 to 300 feet. Judging from the direction of the foliage on the trees, the S.W. monsoon seems to commit great ravages. Everywhere along the coast, but more especially on the south side, serpentine cropped out—giving little promise of fertility. At many spots the cocoa-palms disappeared entirely; a circumstance which must ever interfere materially with the settlement of this island by a people to whom the most profuse natural treasures are worthless and unknown, beyond wealth in cocoa-nuts.
Near the southern point we were suddenly alarmed at noticing an alteration in the colour of the sea, which led us to suspect the proximity of a sand-bank. Nevertheless a boat, lowered to try for soundings, found no bottom at 45 fathoms. In fact, the water was found to be transfused with an enormous mass of crustaceæ, and small brownish filaments of 1⁄48 to 1⁄12 of an inch in length, occasionally collected into a knot, which rendered it cloudy and muddy, and at once explained a phenomenon at first sight so unexpected. Towards 5 P.M. we passed the southern point of the island, and somewhat later discovered a well-sheltered anchorage on the S.E. side of the island.
Considerable anxiety was felt as the sun went down, since the boat that had been dispatched not only had not rejoined us but was not yet even visible. As soon as darkness had fairly set in, blue lights were burnt on board the frigate, of which the third was at last responded to by the crew of the boat, which had been provided with port-fires for such a contingency. It seemed to be steering for the frigate. Hour after hour, however, flew by without its approaching us, and the rest of our signals remained unanswered. Thus morning broke, and still no boat was visible.
At length, about 7.30 A.M., the anxiously expected little wanderer hove in sight at a little distance, and half an hour later she came alongside all safe. The projected operations had been only partially successful, owing to the extreme difficulty in making a landing. Surprised by nightfall, it was no longer practicable to make out the ten nautical miles at least they were still distant from the frigate, and the scanty crew consequently saw nothing for it but to anchor close in with the shore, and await the light of dawn in the boat. The cause of our later blue lights not being answered, was partly the want of a sufficient supply of signal lights, part having been already expended, and the rest having got damp.
We now steered for Nangkauri harbour. Full in view lay the north shore of the island of Kamorta, and, as we glided smoothly thither over the glassy sea, it loomed gradually nearer; an island of flat-topped hills, which, despite its rank vegetation, had a park-like aspect, consequent on the alternations
of forest and grass-slopes with the white coral beach, crowned with cocoa-palms. Gradually the island of Tringkut came into view, singularly level, and abounding in cocoa-palms and edible sea-slugs (Trepang), lying directly facing the entrance of the harbour-like channel, between Kamorta and Nangkauri. Our course, on which we were being propelled on a beautiful evening by a gentle soft wind which wafted us slowly but surely forwards, was indeed entrancingly delicious. Directly ahead lay the low strand of Tringkut, shimmering whitely under the dark green canopy of foliage, while the long swell, breaking on the coral reefs like glancing walls of foam, sunk away in the distance into the smooth mirror-like sea, which rose and fell almost imperceptibly, as though peacefully breathing. On the left lay Nangkauri, with its forests. On both sides of Kamorta and Nangkauri, huts and villages were visible sprinkled along the shore, from which numerous natives put off in their canoes to the frigate, but presently lay on their oars at a respectful distance, and followed us like a sort of squadron of observation. On the right was visible in mid-channel between Tringkut and Kamorta the solitary rocky island of Tillangschong; the shores of all these islands, and indeed the whole horizon, being lit up with a gorgeous Fata Morgana. The extreme southernmost cliffs of Tillangschong seemed to be suspended entirely in the air. The corners, at which jutted out the coast-lines of Tringkut and Kamorta, seen along the horizon of the ocean resembled wedge-shaped incisions into the domain
of the atmosphere; while the tips of the waves, lashed into foam as they broke upon them, seemed as if dancing in the air. The canoes of the natives were reflected upside down, till the figures seated in them were so enormously lengthened that one could almost fancy they were gigantic 'genii' disporting on the surface of the sea.
As we were sailing along in front of the village of Malacca into the splendid harbour, and just as the lead had almost a moment before marked 23 fathoms, the look-out man suddenly descried a shoal. Notwithstanding the manœuvres that were at once put in execution, it was found impossible to get entirely clear, and the frigate grounded forward of the beam on the port-side. Although it was ebb-tide, yet deep water was observable both ahead and astern, and accordingly an effort was made, by running out the guns and laying out a spring for the frigate to haul upon, to get the ship once more afloat, which accordingly speedily proved successful, so that by sundown we were enabled to anchor in good holding ground, opposite the village of Itoe, in the island of Nangkauri.
Here we lay in a calm, tranquil sheet of water, such as we had not fallen in with throughout our voyage hitherto, surrounded by dense forest, from which were heard distinctly, on board ship, the disagreeable shrill sound of innumerable crickets, and the deep coo of the great Nicobar wood-pigeon. Except for these, the most profound stillness reigned. There was not the smallest movement either in sea
or sky. Although on our excursion to Kar-Nicobar we had to endure great heat, it was here that for the first time we experienced in all its discomfort the oppressive, relaxing sultriness of the tropical atmosphere, when saturated with vapour. The thermometer stood pretty regularly at 84° to 86° Fahr., nor was it possible to find any relief by plunging into the water, which was if anything even warmer than the air. Hemmed in on all sides, and with the welcome beneficent sea-breeze frequently ceasing to blow for a week together, it was speedily pronounced a riddle, impossible to be solved, how this harbour came to be once and again selected by German and Danish Missionaries for the purposes of colonization, unless the key to the mystery be found in its secure situation, the exquisite beauty of the mountain landscape, and the numerous clear spots around.
The very morning after our arrival we set out on a small reconnoitring excursion to examine the ground, in order to decide, among so many objects claiming our attention at once, what, considering the brief time at our disposal, we might hope to undertake successfully, and what must once for all be abandoned. Our first visit was to the village of Itoe, which lay directly opposite our frigate's anchorage. The natives had all fled into the forest, only their dogs having remained behind, who saluted us with a tremendous howl. The huts, six or eight in number, had a poor, miserable appearance, and were built close to a cocoa forest, so that there was not the slightest space to move about in between
the huts, the forest, and the luxuriant underwood, so that free circulation of air was entirely prevented. In front of the village a number of Bamboo poles, with large bunches of ribbons waving about from their upper end, were stuck into the water, for the purpose of frightening away the evil spirit or Eewee, and driving him into the sea! In the interior of these few huts built of stakes, and of much inferior construction to those in Kar-Nicobar, was a large number of rudely cut figures of all possible sizes, and every variety of position, suspended by strings, and supplying the most unmistakeable evidence of the superstitions of the natives. We had never seen these kinds of charms against the evil spirit at Kar-Nicobar, nor had even heard them spoken of. Quite close to the huts was the place of interment. At one grave, apparently quite lately used, a large pole was erected, which was adorned with innumerable white and blue stripes waving in the wind, and from which had also been suspended axes, piles, bars, nails, and other tools and implements of labour of the deceased, so that the whole scene much more resembled a rag-shop than a grave heap.
From Itoe we proceeded to the peak of Monghata, on the island of Kamorta, lying just opposite Nangkauri. It was here that, in 1831, Pastor Rosen wished to found the projected settlement. He could hardly have selected a more unsuitable site, since all around is either dense forest or mangrove swamp. The spots that had been cleared are now overgrown with Saccharum Konigii (Lalang grass), of the
height of a man, which usually follows here upon spots that have been once cultivated and are afterwards abandoned, and which, if once taken root, can only with the utmost difficulty be eradicated. From this peak, barely 200 feet in height, it is practicable to descend by a small footpath to the cove of Ulàla, whose shores are entirely overrun with dense impassable mangrove swamp, and accordingly present a most dreary, gloomy aspect.
Our next excursion was to the village of Enuang or Enong, where lay at anchor, under the British flag, two Malay prahus from Pulo Penang, manned by Malay crews, and taking in cargoes of ripe cocoa-nuts, edible birds' nests, and sea-slugs, or Trepang. The captain of one of these prahus and the greater number of the crew were laid up with fever. The supercargo, a Chinese named Owi-Bing-Hong, spoke English fluently, and was of the utmost service to us in our communications with the natives. Enuang is larger than Itoe, and has about a dozen huts, but these are one and all half-ruinous, very filthy, and utterly neglected. In all the huts we found numbers of figures, cut in white wood in the very rudest style in various postures, mostly with a threatening, combative expression, intended to drive away the evil spirit, of whom the natives seem to stand in great dread; for it is the universal practice of these islanders to ascribe whatever happens to them to the influence of an evil spirit, and probably also the appearance of the Novara in the harbour of Nangkauri was laid to the account of the ill intentions
of an Eewee. One constantly sees fruit, tobacco, or betel-leaves, prepared with pearl-lime, strewed in small portions at various spots in the interiors of the huts, or suspended on the bamboo ladders by which they are entered, the object being to propitiate the Eewee in the event of his being hungry on his arrival! In one of the abandoned huts we discovered a figure resembling a cat, rudely carved in wood, before which the natives had placed tobacco and cocoa-nuts; almost all these figures were besmeared with soot, and daubed with some red pigment, and their abdomens hung with long pendent dried palm-leaves.
Not one of the natives at Enuang understood English. Only a couple of old men spoke a few words of Portuguese, of which they were not a little conceited. The Portuguese, in the 17th and 18th centuries, seem to have been the first European nations that had any commercial dealings with the Nicobar islanders. A number of words of their language, all referring to objects of civilization, and but little corrupted from the Portuguese, such for instance as "pang" (for pan, the Portuguese for bread), "zapato" (shoe), "cuchillo" (knife), and so forth, are evidences of this. The natives here seemed to us yet more hideous than those of Kar-Nicobar, especially as the everlasting betel-chewing had disfigured their mouths in the most shocking manner. It is however incorrect to allege, as has been the case hitherto, that they avail themselves of a particular substance with which to discolour the teeth, and which it was supposed induced this frightful distortion
of the mouth; it is unquestionably only the abuse of the betel (consisting of Areca-nut, betel-leaves, and coral chalk) which causes these disgusting disfigurements. At this settlement also the women and children had disappeared. Only one native woman, married to a Malay from Pulo Penang, who was at the moment officiating as cook on board one of the prahus lying at anchor in the bay, had the courage to present herself before us. She was, according to the custom of the Malays, dressed in silk, but bore on her body all the disagreeable traces of her Nicobar origin. She showed no reluctance to talk with us, and, in her somewhat scanty toilette, was the one solitary native woman with whom we found an opportunity of communicating during our entire stay at the various islands.
From Enuang we visited the first settlement of the Moravian Brothers, lying on the small neck of land between Enuang and Malacca, where apparently the amiable Father Hänsel seems to have lived, for whose interesting memoir, narrating his many years' residence upon the Nicobar Islands, we were indebted to the kindness of Dr. Rosen of the Moravian Mission at Genaadendal in South Africa.[13] At present all is once more thick majestic forest; a marvellous leafy dome, like a green pantheon, encircles and overshadows the scene of the once benevolent activity of the devoted missionary. Only a ruined well and a few brick fragments of what was the oven,
lying about, remain to show that a dwelling once stood here. At the well there were a variety of beautiful flowers growing between the stones. The place is still called, as then, Tripjet, or the "Habitation of the Friends." Here in quick succession most of the Brethren died, (no fewer than eleven out of the thirteen,) upon which the mission was transferred to the opposite island of Kamorta, first of all to the clearing at Kalaha, and ultimately to Kamút. But all these sites were as ill-selected as the first. An abode located between swamp and forest, of which latter only a space of barely 1000 feet in circumference was cleared, could not but prove fatal in a very short space of time to the unfortunate colonists. At the village of Enuang too it would seem to be that the last attempt at founding a settlement was made in 1835 by the two French missionaries; at least we were informed by several natives, who seemed to be at present about 34 to 36 years of age, that they were themselves but boys when the last missionaries lived at Nangkauri. They also further recollected that the gigantic cocoa-palms, which at present skirt the forest, were at that time quite small saplings, and the only vegetation between the beach and the mission house. At present enormous roots are stretching over the foundations of the earlier settlement. The natives who accompanied us spoke with warm feeling of the missionaries, and seemed to regret their departure. Many professed themselves with much earnestness to be Christians, but they were so only in name. According to what they reported, many natives must at that
period have been baptized in the islands of Chowra and Bampoka.
During this visit to Enuang and Malacca, it had been one of the objects aimed at by the members of the Expedition to draw up a small vocabulary of the language of the natives, when it speedily appeared that, despite the proximity of the two islands, the dialects used by the inhabitants were entirely different. Even for trees and plants, for the feathered inhabitants of the forests, as well as domestic animals, the inhabitants of the central groups of islands have different names. The cocoa-palm and its noble fruit, the betel and its ingredients, are here known by entirely different names. The accurate transcription of each individual word into German as pronounced by the native was hard work. It took us two days to make a vocabulary of one hundred words! And even this slight success would have been impossible but for our serviceable Chinese friend, Bing-Hong, who had gone to school for two years at Pulo Penang, and could read and write English with tolerable readiness and accuracy. The distortion of their mouths is one main reason why the natives pronounce the greater number of their words almost unintelligibly; it is more a lisping mutter than a language. Hence, apparently, their ability to follow out the concatenation of ideas is so slightly developed, that it is only with much difficulty they can be made to comprehend the particular subject respecting which the information was wanted. For example, if it was wished to know the word in their language which expressed
"blue," and in order to make more intelligible what was required, a variety of objects of a blue colour were pointed out, they almost invariably named the object itself, and not the colour. Or again, one wanted to know what they called "leaf" in their language, and indicated the leaf of a tree standing near; the native, however, replies by giving the name of the tree itself, instead of the word expressing leaf. It seems to us not unimportant to call attention to this circumstance, in order more completely to lay before the reader the great and manifold obstacles which present themselves in drawing up vocabularies of the languages of half-savage races, and thus more readily secure indulgence for the discrepancies which are frequently to be met with in such works.[14]
Bing-Hong invited us to pay him a visit on board his vessel, which had already been lying for several months at anchor in Nangkauri harbour, taking in a cargo of ripe cocoa-nuts, of which a Picul, or 133 1⁄3 pounds, is worth in the Pulo Penang market 5 1⁄2 American dollars (£1 3s. sterling). This hospitable Chinese informed us it was at the period of our visit the least unhealthy season in Nangkauri harbour: that as soon as the S.W. monsoon sets in, all foreign ships hurry away, through dread of the illnesses that follow in its track. However, feverish attacks are of daily occurrence throughout the
year. Of the thirteen men who formed the crew of the barque, ten were laid up with fever. The disorderly habits of life, however, of foreign visitors are much more to blame for these frequent attacks of disease than the unhealthiness of the climate. Constantly they are guilty of excesses in diet and general negligence of health, bathing during the utmost heat of the day without any covering to the head, exposing themselves to the burning rays of the noonday sun, drinking for the most part nothing but the fluid contents of the unripe cocoa-nut, eating quantities of juicy fruits, the constant use of which acts injuriously on the systems of strangers, and sleeping on the damp soil under the open air, exposed to all the noxious influences of the atmosphere of a tropical forest without the slightest shelter. Bing-Hong showed us the dried edible nests of the Hirundo esculenta (in Malay Salang, in Nicobar Hegái), and presented us with a small packet of about thirty nests. When properly dried, seventy-two of these tiny nests weigh one catty, or 1 1⁄4 lb., and they are sold at two rupees (4s.) for three of the inferior sort. The best quality is far more expensive. We caused some of these Chinese dainties to be prepared exactly as prescribed by Bing-Hong, that is to say, they were boiled for one hour in hot water, but we found the gelatinous mass quite tasteless, and, in fact, resembling dissolved gum. The swallow which constructs these edible nests does not however seem to be a regular visitant of the Nicobar Islands, and the profits on this article of commerce, which is of such importance in Java and
the rest of the Sunda Islands, are here scarcely worth naming.
It has been long disputed whence this industrious little warbler obtains the material for his nest, and it was in all probability the circumstance that it was generally believed to consist of particles of sea-weed, fish-roe, and marine animalculæ of the medusa class, which secured for these nests such a celebrity among Chinese gourmands. A German naturalist, Professor Troschel of Bonn, affirms however, on the strength of an analysis of these nests, that the notion hitherto prevalent as to the component parts of these nests is entirely erroneous, as they consist of nothing else than a thick, glutinous slime, secreted from the salivary glands, which, at the period when the Indian swallow builds its nest, swell out into large whitish masses. This slime, which is susceptible of being drawn out in long filaments from the bill of the animal, is quite analogous to gum Arabic. Whenever the bird is desirous of constructing its nest, it causes this salivary substance, which at that period is copiously secreted, to adhere to the crags, till its elegant nest is finished.
One of the days during which the frigate lay in Nangkauri harbour, the geologist of the Expedition made an excursion in a native canoe along the coasts of Kamorta and Tringkut, as these islands at the points where the shores are precipitous furnish the only possible geognostic facilities, the forest or the thick covering of vegetation in the interior of the island quite concealing the geological conformation. Our Chinese
friend Bing-Hong aforesaid accompanied him in the capacity of interpreter. When the geologist had got some distance from the frigate, he found that the natives had not abandoned their villages, and to this one alone of our fellow-travellers, manned and rowed along by natives, did some of the women become visible. They were as tall as the men, and quite as loathsome in appearance, the mouth similarly disfigured by betel-chewing, but the hair cut short. Around the body they wore a petticoat of red or blue cloth, reaching from the loins to the knee.
Another excursion was made to Ulàla Cove, distant about four nautical miles from our anchorage on the W. side of the island of Kamorta, on which occasion our Venetian gondola, specially constructed for similar expeditions, was pressed into the service. The entrance to the cove is about 3⁄4 of a mile in breadth, after which it expands in an easterly direction with varying width, at the same time sending off arms in every direction. The vegetation is exceedingly luxuriant and plentiful, and along the swampy shore consists mainly of mangrove bushes, which at most points make it almost impracticable to disembark, and impart to the entire bay a dreary, desolate appearance. At the few villages scattered along the shore, most of the natives had taken to flight. On this occasion, however, it was not child-like terror that had driven them away, but an evil conscience, for among the other inhabitants this bay enjoys the sad reputation of having on various occasions massacred the crews of small vessels,
after having plundered them of everything. So strong is this feeling that the natives of the rest of the Nicobar group, according to their own report, refuse to have anything to do with this ferocious set, and could not by any means be induced to accompany us in their canoes as far as Ulàla Cove.
The frigate lay five days in Nangkauri harbour, until the soundings and general survey of this large bay with its numerous branches had been completed, when, on the morning of the 11th March, she sailed, with a fresh breeze from N.W., through the western entrance, which is scarcely a hundred fathoms wide, by fourteen in depth, and is marked by two rocky pinnacles. Directly opposite lies the island of Katchal, thickly wooded to the water-edge, and stretching out long and low, without any marked elevation above sea-level. We now sailed in between these islands of Katchal and Kamorta in a northerly direction towards the islands of Teressa and Bampoka. On the W. side of Kamorta a number of villages were visible; on the N.W. we perceived at several spots natural meadows, while hereabouts the land gradually culminated into the highest point of the island,—a conical hill, rising not very far from the shore, almost entirely without trees, except where near the summit a number of bushes and shrubs nestled in a sort of hollow. Three days were now lost in unsuccessful attempts to make head-way against wind and tide, so that for four mortal days we were tossed about in full view of Bampoka, Teressa, and Chowra, never indeed above twenty miles distant, yet utterly unable to
make any one of them. As the time at our disposal for visiting these was exhausted in consequence of this unexpected difficulty, we were, very much to our regret, compelled to forego the satisfaction of setting foot on either of these islands, which, especially Chowra, would have presented a rare opportunity of examining the effect upon tropical races of men of an excess of population. That rather barren island possesses, it seems, more inhabitants than it has the means of subsisting, and appears to be the only spot of the entire Nicobar group where the natives follow industrial avocations. All manner of pottery ware comes from Chowra, so that it would almost seem as though the lamentable spectacle of a superabundant population had given the natives the first impulse towards active industry.
In the island of Teressa the Austrian Expedition had a more special interest, in so far as it is by no means improbable that the adventurous Bolts, who in 1778 visited the Nicobar Archipelago in the Austrian ship Joseph and Theresa, named this island, as he already had done in the case of a fort on the coast of Africa, after the renowned Austrian Empress, which, corrupted by the native dialect, had been gradually transformed into Teressa or Terassa.
At sunrise on the 17th March there loomed on the horizon in a S.E. direction, first the island of Meroe, then the two small islands of Treis and Track, and lastly the long mountain-chain of Little Nicobar, with the beautiful island of Pulo Milù. The breeze was light, and a current of a velocity
of five miles an hour, which ran rushing and seething like a mill-race through the calm sea, so completely checked our progress that the anchor had to be let go. This procured us the very unexpected pleasure of visiting these two small wooded islands. Owing to the heavy surf, we only succeeded in effecting a landing by the assistance of some natives, whom we happened to fall in with in their canoes off these all but uninhabited islets. Treis is a veritable pigeon island, full of the most various and beautiful species of that bird; nevertheless we could only procure a single specimen of the exceedingly elegant Nicobar dove. Here too it was that the geologist found the first traces of brown coal, which however did not present itself in layers suitable for domestic use.
The same afternoon, with the turn of the tide the current set in our favour, and towards 10 P.M. we reached the roadstead protected to the eastward by the northernmost point of Little Nicobar, to the westward by the island of Pulo Milù, and southward by the mainland of Little Nicobar itself. It is not very large, but it has excellent holding ground, and would be available at all seasons as a harbour of refuge for vessels. As most of the villages of Little Nicobar lie on the N.W. and S. sides of the island, and were with difficulty accessible from our anchorage, it was thought preferable to select the small but beautiful island of Pulo Milù for our visit. Already, while we were lying at anchor in front of the island of Treis, a few natives had come on board the
frigate, and had shown much confidence. They possessed all the characteristics of the residents of Nangkauri, and they also spoke, with but slight variations, the same idiom. Only for certain objects, and those, singular to say, articles of the very first necessity, such as cocoa-nut trees, palms, screw-pines, and the like, did they employ different expressions.
The island of Pulo Milù, with its variety of forest-vegetation, and its charming woodland-scenery, displays all the beauty and all the marvels of the tropics. The screw-pine (of the family of Pandaneæ), that peculiar tree which imparts to the forests of Asia a character so different from those of America, is seen here in exceptional size and majesty. Nowhere have we met with this marvellous tree growing in such luxuriance as on Pulo Milù, where it appears in such quantities as to resemble a forest, and leaves an impression of such lonely wildness as makes one almost imagine it a remnant of some earlier period of our earth. Wondering at the capricious vagaries of nature, the traveller contemplates these extraordinary trees, which have leaves arranged in spiral order like the dragon trees, trunks like those of palms, boughs like those trees presenting the ordinary characteristics of foliage, fruit-cones like the coniferœ, and yet have nothing in common with all these plants, so that they form a family by themselves. On Pulo Milù we saw some of these trees with slim smooth stems 40 or 50 feet in height, which are nourished by and supported upon a pile of roots of 10 to 12 feet high, resembling a neatly-finished conical piece of wicker-work,
composed of spindle-shaped staves. Many of these roots do not reach the soil, and in this undeveloped state these atmospheric roots assume the most peculiar shapes. Higher up the same formation is repeated among the branches, from which depend beautiful massy fruit-cones, a foot and a half in length, by one in thickness, which, when ripe, are of a splendid orange hue.
The screw-pine is not cultivated in the Nicobar Islands; it grows wild in the utmost luxuriance, and, after the cocoa-nut, is for the natives the most important plant that furnishes them with subsistence. The immense fruit-cones borne by this tree consist of several single wedge-shaped fruits, which when raw are uneatable, but boiled in water, and subjected to pressure, give out a sort of mealy mass, the "Melori" of the Portuguese, and called by the natives "Laróhm," which is also occasionally used with the fleshy interior of the ripe fruit, and forms the daily bread of the islanders. The flavour of the mass thus prepared strongly resembles that of apple-marmalade, and is by no means unpalatable to Europeans. The woody, brush-like fibres of the fruit which remain behind, after the mealy contents have been squeezed out, are made use of by the natives as natural brooms and brushes, while the dried leaves of the Pandanus serve instead of paper to surround their cigarettes.
At Pulo Milù, as is yet more markedly the case among the southernmost islands, the cocoa-palm does not grow so luxuriantly as on Kar-Nicobar, and to this circumstance may
be chiefly ascribed the fact that the natives are not so liberal as at the last-named island. The Swedish naturalist, Dr. Rink, who has so largely and valuably added to our stock of information respecting the Nicobar group, resided here for a considerable time with some forty Chinese labourers, and, with a view to ultimate colonization, had caused to be cut through the forest several paths, by means of which this island has been rendered much more permeable than any other in the Archipelago. The selection was an extremely happy one, and had the projected colonization of the island been carried into effect, very different results would have been obtained than those of poor Dr. Rosen in Nangkauri Harbour. Next to Kar-Nicobar, it has been clearly decided that Pulo Milù is the most suitable spot for a first settlement, in the event of any European power or any capitalist undertaking to solve the problem of colonizing this Archipelago.
In the cove at which we landed five huts stand upon the beach, much similar to those at Nangkauri, and like them having before them a number of lofty singularly ornamented poles emerging from the water, called by the natives Handschúop, and intended to keep Davy Jones at a respectful distance from the village,—not unlike the scarecrow with which we at home seek to frighten from the ripening corn the rapacious troop of feathered epicures. These banners for scaring away the Eewees are erected within the sea limit by the Manluéna, or exorcist, who in these islands, like the
medicine-man of the Red Indian of America, or the Ach-Itz of the Indian races among the highlands of Guatemala, exercises the utmost influence over all the affairs of life. Here, as elsewhere, most of the natives had disappeared on our approach. We found but five men, who were all at least partially clad; some wore shirts, trowsers, and caps; another had enveloped his person in an immense, and by no means over-clean, piece of linen. One of this number, who acted as our guide through the island, and called himself "John Bull," was not a regular resident in Pulo Milù, but in Lesser-Nicobar, and had only come over to the island for the purpose of constructing canoes of trunks of trees hollowed out. He spoke English with tolerable fluency, and displayed quite child-like satisfaction, as often as any English word, no matter what, was recalled to his recollection, which had slipped his memory from want of practice. John Bull soon became very insinuating, and expressed a wish to accompany us to Great Nicobar, where, as he assured us, at Hinkvala, one of the villages on the southern shore, he had several relatives, among others one named "London," who could be of the utmost service to us. For his kind offices we promised him a present, upon which he asked with the most naïve simplicity: "You not talk lie?" from which we may conjecture that not every promise made to him by a stranger was duly fulfilled. The huts of the natives were constructed of beams, exactly like those in the central island; and the internal arrangements were precisely identical. Here also
are figures sculptured in wood, Eewee-charms, which especially are found in the interiors of the houses in such numbers and in such quaint costumes, that one is almost tempted to imagine the inhabitants of these huts must be proprietors of some Marionette-theatre. We also found here various objects carved in soft wood, among others a large serpent, a tortoise, and several droll figures, as also a seven-holed flute of bamboo-reed, the model for which had evidently been supplied by some of the Malay sailors from Pulo Penang.
The same evening we weighed anchor, and shaped our course along the eastern shore of Lesser-Nicobar, which is thickly covered with swamp and forest. On the morning of 19th March, we were abreast of the island of Montial in St. George's Channel, and by evening had anchored on the northern side of Great Nicobar, S.E. of the island of Kondul, which also lies in the Channel. Already before sunrise the boats were lowered and everything got in readiness for a visit to the small but delightful island of Kondul, which, though on the N.W. side so lofty and rocky as to be almost inaccessible, presents on its E. side a tolerably secure landing-place, situated according to our observations in 7° 12′ 17″ N. and 93° 39′ 57″ E. Here we found a number of huts, but not one single native was visible. We now endeavoured, by following up a torrent bed, to climb to the highest point of the island, which has an elevation of 350 to 400 feet. In this we only succeeded after most severe exertion, occasionally having to avail ourselves at the steepest parts of the ascent
of the gigantic roots of trees, or of the climbing plants that hung suspended like natural ropes, by means of which we swung ourselves among the huge blocks of rock, till we could gain a secure footing. Instead, however, of finding, as we had hoped, a small plateau at the summit, or at all events discovering some less difficult path by which to descend, we were sorely disconcerted, on arriving thoroughly exhausted on the top, at finding the rock descended so sheer and precipitous on the other side that it was impossible to make one step further. However, we found here a delicious refreshing breeze. With pleasure indescribable, our gaze wandered to the island of Great Nicobar and the islet of Cabra, lying immediately opposite us, their green luxuriant shores bathed on all sides by the azure ripple of the ocean. Although no rain had fallen for more than six months, the vegetation was on the whole wonderfully fresh and abundant, the forest lovely and majestic as on "the first day of Creation!"
We found ourselves compelled to retrace our steps by the same break-neck path by which we had ascended the peak. On the shore we encountered some of the natives, whose curiosity had got the better of their apprehensions, and who now slunk out of the forest, to discover what was our peculiar object in landing on the island. Among their number was a native doctor, and Eewee exorciser; he was however in no way distinguishable from the rest of his brethren, unless by the inordinate length of his hair, which flowed down far below his shoulders. One of the members of the Commission,
desirous of getting at the treatment pursued by these sly knaves when they go to work with their poor credulous dupes of patients, promised this dusky disciple of Æsculapius a present, if he would cure him by his own method, and affected to have an intolerably severe pain in the left arm. The Manluéna displayed his treatment with a vengeance; he laid hold of the supposed sufferer by the arm, which he pinched and punched, till there was not a spot that had not received his attentions, while during the entire process he now screamed aloud, now whistled, now blew vigorously upon the bare skin, as though endeavouring to expel the Evil Spirit. According to the belief of these poor people, every bodily pain is nothing other than a demon magically introduced into the system through the evil influence of an Eewee. The Manluéna commenced to pinch the arm from above, performing this anything but agreeable manipulation with his hands lubricated with cocoa-nut oil, from above downwards, the object being to drive out the Eewee from the arm by the finger points! Although the doctor had not used his patient very tenderly, he nevertheless in the opinion of the natives had not appeared to put forth all his powers, and had made use of far fewer noises and contortions than had been usual with him when one of themselves was undergoing treatment. Moreover his original confidence seemed to fail him in his anxiety lest some mischance should befall him in case this attempt at a cure should miscarry, and accordingly he speedily made off, after he had been complimented with a
few threepenny bits for his trouble, nor did he again make his appearance the whole day.
Some of the members of the Expedition had resolved to ramble quite round the island; the circumference of which is little if at all more than eight English miles. At early morning they had started with their guns and botanical boxes on their shoulders full of the most buoyant expectation of securing an ample store of curiosities, starting from the east coast and thence to the north side of the island; and towards sunset they made their appearance at the south side, foot-sore and nearly exhausted. In the ardour of the chase and of collecting "specimens," they had plunged so deep into the forest, thereby losing all trace of the direction by which they had entered, that as the sun was already beginning to descend, they had no alternative but to hew a path with their hatchets through the thickest of the forest, so as to reach the beach once more. At times hanging by creepers, at others swimming at various spots where the rocks dipped perpendicularly into the sea, they at length arrived at the spot where we were re-embarking, hungry, thirsty, and in a state of such extreme exhaustion that we at first were really apprehensive for their lives. Singularly enough these severe hardships were followed by no evil consequences to any one of the party, though the recollection of them will surely not fade out of their memory for the rest of their lives.
The 21st March, being a Sunday, was duly observed, and was kept as a much-needed day of rest, no boat going to shore. Towards
noon a pretty smart shower of rain fell, the first for six months. Several of the natives came off in their canoes, and brought fowls, eggs, cocoa-nuts, and various other fruits, as also monkeys and parrots. Rupees, English shillings and sixpences, were evidently not unknown to them, as they greatly preferred these in exchange to mere toys and showy articles.
On the 22nd we made an excursion to a bay on the island of Great Nicobar or Sambelong. All that portion of the coast lying opposite our anchorage was quite uninhabited, evidently in consequence of the entire absence at this point of the cocoa-palm, whereas on the west coast there are several good-sized villages. Unfortunately, however, these lay at far too great a distance from the frigate to permit of an excursion being made thither. As our boat, after an hour's rowing, approached the little bay, we perceived at the mouth of a small creek the singular spectacle of a dead mangrove forest. Some great storm had apparently thrown up a sand-drive here, so as to cut off the supply of sea-water even at full tide. As the mangrove only flourishes in salt or brackish water, it had thus been deprived of its vital element, and the trees had accordingly perished in the fresh water. But the lofty stems still stood, withered and blighted, a ghastly garden of death amidst delicious green peaks covered with forest. As the sun rose, a white vapour lay like a winding-sheet over the dead swamp: one felt the uncomfortable sensation of being in a place where miasmata were poisoning the air, while the soil was generating death. The rigid skeletons of these trees recall
to the recollection of the stranger, who stands marvelling at the all-powerful energies of Nature to create and destroy in these regions, how many corpses of his fellow-Europeans are mouldering beneath the damp soil of this island! Fortunately the river has once more broken through the bar, and given access to the sea-water, so that beneath the dead forest a fresh green vegetation was fast springing up.
The crew of a Malay prahu from Penang had selected this dull spot for a regular settlement, in order to collect ripe cocoa-nuts, and Trepang, the edible sea-slug (Holothuria) already mentioned, the latter for the Chinese market. These people occupied a large wooden shed, and were provisioned for a somewhat long stay. Except this shed there was not one single hut here, all around being nothing but dense forest and swamp; but some natives of the island of Kondul came over in their canoes to trade hens and eggs with us. The Malay vessels which visit these islands almost all come hither from Penang, about the beginning of the N.E. monsoon, and remain during the whole of the dry season, so as to take in a full cargo of the various natural produce of the island. They bring for barter fine Chinese tobacco, calico, knives, axes, hatchets, cutlasses, clothes, and black round hats. In former years they also imported the betel shrub into Great Nicobar for propagation; where, in fact, it has been planted, and has since then increased to such an extent that its importation is no longer remunerative. With the commencement of the S.W. monsoons and the rainy season, the Malay
traders with their profitable cargoes make their way back to Penang, and the other places along the coast of the peninsula of Malacca. Thanks to the presence of these people, the members of the Expedition were enabled to compare the Nicobar idiom with that of the Malays, and could thus ascertain the exceeding discrepancies between these two languages.[15] These merchants ordinarily bring with them a few individuals who have a slight knowledge of the Nicobar language, as the Malay tongue is not understood anywhere in this archipelago.
One of the Malay seamen, named Tschingi, from Penang, whose caste was indicated by the long stripes of a bluish green colour painted upon his dark brown forehead, peculiar to the Hindu god Siva, told us that he recollected being employed as a boy in the service of Pastor Rosen on the island of Kamorta, with whom he remained till his return to Europe. He spoke with much admiration of that estimable and thoroughly deserving gentleman, and remarked that many Chinese and other settlers had accompanied him to Kamorta, all of whom speedily succumbed to the fever.
The native known as John Bull, who had followed us hither from Pulo Milù, made his appearance at the bay, accompanied by some of his kindred, and brought us some provisions. He seemed firmly to believe that in the interior of the island of Sambelong, in its southern part, there existed some wild inhabitants of a different race, Baju-oal-Tschùa (or junglemen, as he called them), who lived entirely in the
woods, in small huts erected upon the banks of the streams, and were so timid that they took to flight so soon as any one endeavoured to approach them. He also told us that in the S. and S.W. sides of Sambelong there were eleven villages: viz. Hinkóata, Changanhéi, Hinháha, Haenganglóeh, Kanálla, Taéingha, Dayák, Kanchingtong, Dagoák, Hinláwua, and Kalémma.
In the course of the day, not only was a highly successful onslaught made on the denizens of the woodland, but even the fishes in bay were not exempted from our attentions;—a net, which was flung over the side and retained there barely half an hour, being hauled ashore with upwards of a hundred weight of small fish. Of this the entire ship's company partook, and sufficient was left over for the next day. Our quarry in the swamps and forest consisted of snipes, of a splendidly plumed Maina bird (Gracula Indica), eagles, and apes; unfortunately a number of the animals shot were lost by their retreating into the thicket, where they could not be recovered.
On the morning of the 23rd of March the frigate again made sail and steered along the west coast of Great Nicobar, while two boats' crews were despatched with the requisite instruments to examine this quite unexplored coast. This plan, however, proved only half successful. The tremendous surf, into which the long swell setting in from the S.W. is broken hereabouts, hurled the larger boat upon the beach with such violence that it was capsized, by which a great portion of her freight was utterly lost, and her crew could only
escape to shore by swimming. The smaller, or jolly-boat, returned to the ship with two of her crew to fetch assistance for these woe-begone wights. One of the latter, who coolly spoke of the accident as a "piccola disgrazietta,"[16] with the same breath informed us that almost all the instruments, note-books, and implements of the chase which had been taken on board, were irretrievably gone. Another quarter-boat was despatched to bring off our shipwrecked companions, who meanwhile remained on the shore in anything but enviable plight, soaked to the skin, hungry and thirsty, and busily employed in fishing up some few of the articles that had been overturned into the water. At last both boats got safely back in company about midnight, but under such circumstances that it was out of the question to think of prosecuting the examination that had been commenced. We now lay a course for the southern bay of Great Nicobar, where, shortly after 9 P.M. of the 24th March, we cast anchor near the little stream called "Galatea" by the Danish expedition. The midshipman intrusted with the commission of selecting the most suitable spot to disembark, returned after several hours' absence, with the little consolatory intelligence, that along the entire reach of coast which he had examined, there was but one solitary spot at which it was possible to land without danger from a boat of European construction. In the course of the day we received numbers of natives on board; among the rest, one man
still young, with immense spectacles, which undoubtedly were worn much more for personal adornment than for use. They brought off for sale a few apes, parrots, hens, swine, cocoa-nuts, as also some rosin, tortoise-shell, amber, and a few large eggs of a species of wood-pigeon, called by the natives Mekéni, of which unfortunately we did not succeed in seeing a single specimen, despite our utmost exertions.
The following morning, 26th March, amid occasional premonitory symptoms of the approach of the rainy season, the naturalists and some officers endeavoured to effect a landing at a place where alone it seemed possible for the broad, clumsy boats of our western waters. In this we succeeded. Again we were able, although drenched to the skin, to set foot on Nicobar soil. It was for the last time we did so. Not a single vestige could be discerned along the beach of any human habitations:—all was thick tropical forest, fringed with enormous Barringtoniœ Giganteœ, which in all their primeval weirdness flung their branches over the water, interlaced in wild confusion. After half an hour's wandering along the hot beach, we came unexpectedly, at a point somewhat south of our point of disembarkation, upon a couple of wretched disconsolate-looking huts. Not a human being was visible,—only a pair of hens and a pig, which were parading about untended; the bamboo poles, which usually figure in front of the native huts, had been carried away. However, in their absence it did not cost us much trouble to penetrate into the interior. A few weapons of war or the chase, a number of
hollowed-out perfumed cocoa-nut shells suspended above the fire-place, a pair of elegantly plaited baskets, a boat's sail made of pandanus leaves, some straw mats, and a couple of marvellously finished figures, formed the very miscellaneous inventory of this Nicobar household. The figures (cut in wood) and a very neatly-executed basket attracted to themselves our special attention as interesting specimens of the industry and taste of the natives of Nicobar. We could not resist possessing ourselves of these, at the same time leaving in recompense a quantity of shining six-penny pieces, fully twenty times the utmost possible value of what had been taken away, depositing them in one of the baskets which was suspended in a conspicuous position in the middle of the hut.
Adjoining this hamlet was a forest of cocoa-palms. We penetrated into it, and suddenly found ourselves, to our great astonishment, on the track of a well-worn footpath, which was probably, with the exception of the paths in Great Nicobar and Pulo Milù, in better condition than any other we had hitherto encountered in the Nicobar Islands. What more natural than to suppose that a path so well worn must necessarily lead to an important settlement? It passed first through an extensive and splendid palm-plantation, and afterwards through a very beautiful clump of leafy trees, fringing a little brook, whose channel, it being then the end of the dry season, was quite dried up. Frequently we were obliged to clamber over steep blocks of rock, with footsteps hewn in them by the hand of man, for facilitating the passage, and at
last, after a scramble of several hours, highly interesting, but exceedingly fatiguing, we reached a cleared spot on the sea-beach, but without being able to discern the remotest trace of any human habitations. On the contrary, it seemed to admit of no doubt that this path, as also some spots that had been cleared, were nothing but the preparations for an intended settlement, which can only be successfully carried out here where the cocoa-palm and screw-pine have first struck root. Some of the sailors, who accompanied us as porters and escort, went forward as far as the extreme point of the bay, but there also they found no trace of any human abode. After a brief rest we returned by the same track, to the spot at which we had disembarked, where we were joined by some of the officers, who, more fortunate than ourselves, had encountered some of the natives, and had even seen them in their dwellings. They spoke of the interiors of the huts they visited as being quite as wretched as those on the other islands, only the inhabitants did not seem so shy or timorous. Far from this, they had regaled our lucky companions with palm-wine, and had accompanied them till they fell in with us. With this visit ended the thirty-second day of our stay in the Nicobar Archipelago, only one half of that period having been spent on land, the rest having been occupied in beating about against unfavourable winds.
Before, however, we take our departure from this most interesting group of islands, en route for the Sunda Islands and China, we shall be excused for briefly recapitulating the
main results of our observations and investigations, while referring the reader for a more detailed specification of our labours to the various special divisions yet to appear.
The Nicobar Islands, situated right in the most important highway of commerce, which is destined to acquire yet greater importance, so soon as the projected opening of the Suez Canal has been carried out, and extending in their general direction from S.S.E. to N.N.W., seem like an extension of the main central mountain-chain of Sumatra, which is prolonged yet further to the northward through the Andaman group, and in its crescent-shaped arrangement, with the convexity towards the westward, corresponds with Cape Negrais in the peninsula of Malacca. If from this Archipelago, as a centre, a circle be described of about 1200 nautical miles of radius, it will include the most important commercial cities of India, as well as Ceylon, the majority of the Sunda Islands, and Cochin China. The winds usually prevalent here greatly facilitate the passage of vessels from the adjoining islands and coasts of terra firma, and proportionately enhance the importance of this Archipelago.
With but few exceptions, the shores of the whole group of islands consist of coral sand, or are fringed with coral banks, which latter extend seaward to a depth of thirty fathoms. In like manner almost all the bays seem to be edged with coral reefs, if indeed they are not actually studded with them. The promontories frequently present cliffs both above and below the level of the ocean, extending a couple of miles into
the sea, which, what with the occasional rapid currents and light breezes, are not always very easily weathered. The prevailing winds are the two monsoons, the N.E. in the months of November, December, January, February, and March, the S.W. in May, June, July, August, and September. During the months of April and October, there are variable winds and calms, extending more or less into the adjoining months. The currents vary in direction with the passages between the islands, and depend upon the ebb and flow of the tide, varying in force and direction with the tidal phenomena. Ordinarily these make themselves felt during the making of the tide from S.W. to N.E., and in a contrary direction during the ebb.
Due south of Kar-Nicobar, we found while lying at anchor a current running 3 1⁄2 miles an hour, two days after the full moon; north of Little Nicobar, near the small island of Treis, where the current compelled us to anchor, its velocity, as we experienced two days after new moon, is as high as 4 1⁄2 miles an hour. These observations refer to a period when the velocity of the current was at its maximum. In light winds, and when near the coast, one must always let go the anchor, or at least lay out a kedge, the latter however being barely sufficient at several spots immediately after the full or the new moon. According to observations made during five days about the period of full moon, the course of tide at Kar-Nicobar may be assumed at 9h. 40m., and the difference in height between ebb and flood at five feet.
In these waters, and in a still more marked degree in the latitude of Sumatra, occurs a belt within which the wave-currents form what is known to English navigators as "The Ripples." The sea here is ranged zone-fashion, so to speak, as though in fact in a state of ebullition, and makes a considerable noise, yet without there being anything to indicate an increased strength of current; since, on the contrary, we found when reaching these tracts, that the velocity of current was if anything rather diminished. We conceive this phenomenon may be attributed to the agitation caused by partial tidal currents, crossing each others' course, and occasionally even running counter to each other, as also to certain special conditions of ocean temperature at varying depths. The changes of the tides at points of the coast, proportionally speaking so near each other, are so widely different in point of time, and the height reached by the waves is so little uniform, that any such phenomenon as the above must naturally make itself perceptible at the surface in the open sea.
While the change of tide at Kar-Nicobar takes place every 9h. 40m., that of Cape Diamond in Sumatra is laid down in the English chart at 12h., and on the sand-banks in the Straits of Malacca at only 5h. 30m. The difference in elevation assigned exhibits a similar discrepancy in the estimates; that for Kar-Nicobar being stated at five feet, that for Cape Diamond at 10 feet, and on the sand-banks already mentioned at 15 feet. The hurricanes of the Bay of Bengal never visit the Nicobars; they seem to originate part in or
about the Andaman Islands, part from the west coast of Sumatra, proceeding in the former case towards the northern portions of the gulf, and in the latter towards the Coromandel coast and Ceylon.
During the S.W. monsoon, in which occurs the rainy season, frequent thunder-storms and even gales of wind occur, especially in the vicinity of Great Nicobar. The dry N.E. monsoon again brings fine weather, but sometimes blows with considerable strength.
Kar-Nicobar has no regular harbour, but presents on its north side a spacious land-locked bay nearly rectangular, the holding ground of which is a coral sand of from 10 to 16 fathoms, and is thoroughly sheltered to the S.W. and N.E. During the N.E. monsoon it is advisable to lie somewhat closer in with the northern promontory of the island. At this season it is difficult to find any spot at which small boats can disembark. However, near the northern point it is possible to reach the shore in a small cove, the western boundary of which presents an open space of coral sand, where it is possible to lie to in deep water with even a good-sized boat. The village of Sáoui, which gives its name to the roadstead, is not readily accessible during the N.E. monsoon in consequence of the surf, but the very next indentation of the coast facing eastwards, which is protected seaward by a coral reef, offers a well-sheltered point of disembarkation, where the boats can be beached on the smooth coral sand, and thereafter drawn up high and dry.
During the N.E. monsoon it is also practicable to avail oneself of the bay on the S. side of Kar-Nicobar, or to anchor anywhere along the W. side of the island, but such anchorages possess no other protection than is afforded by long points of land projecting far into the ocean, and usually protracted by coral reefs.
Both in the bay of Sáoui, and on the south side of Kar-Nicobar, are found small brooks, which run with water even during the dry season. It is difficult however to water hereabouts, because these rivulets are blocked up with sand-bars, not to speak of the obstacles interposed to the landing of boats, by the tremendous surf and the low swampy shore at most periods of the year. In cases of extreme necessity, however, the little rivulet called the Areca might with some difficulty be made available.
Chowra, Kamorta, and Bampoka, have no regular anchorages; a vessel must be content to ride to leeward of that coast, which will act as a shelter against whichever monsoon happens to be blowing. Disembarkation by means of boats is extremely difficult, and it is much better to make use of a native canoe, which, after transporting the visitor through the surf to the land, can be more easily drawn up on the beach.
Tillangschong possesses a beautiful harbour on the S. side, which however is open to the S.E., but during the greater part of the year affords an excellent anchorage. The most southerly point has numerous cliffs and needles of rock where it projects into the sea, but it is possible to approach
within a few fathoms of the southernmost of these with vessels of any size.
On the west side of the island, at the spot where its two halves may be said to blend, the northernmost rugged, the more southerly flat, a pretty good anchorage will be found, which seems to be sheltered towards the S.W. by several solitary projecting rocks. Generally speaking, but more especially to the N. and E., this island presents a steep precipitous shore, so that, with the exception here and there of a few solitary rocks, close in to the shore, there is nothing but clear deep water around almost the entire island to within about 10 fathoms of the land.
The harbour of Nangkauri is rather roomy, but of very unequal though for the most part considerable depth; the soundings in its midst giving between 20 and 30 fathoms. The promontories are all more or less low-lying, and thickly beset with coral reefs, and caution is the more necessary, since it is far from unusual after working in from 20 to 16 fathoms, to find the water shoal suddenly to four or even three fathoms. The anchorage formed by the two islands of Kamorta and Nangkauri has two entrances, from the east and from the west, the navigation of which by large ships demands the utmost vigilance. The western entrance is barely a cable's length in width, while the island of Nangkauri has hardly any fair-way for vessels along its exterior coast-line. In consequence of the two islands trending towards each other at that point, the harbour near its middle is greatly
narrowed, so that there may almost be said to be two harbours. In either of them a vessel is quite safe, being in fact so thoroughly sheltered from all winds that the heat is occasionally overpowering.
On the west side of Kamorta, six or seven miles north of the western entrance of the harbour, will be found a large sheet of water, called Ulàla Bay, in the first half of which there is excellent anchorage; but the vapours emanating from the abundant mangrove swamps render residence here extremely unhealthy. As Ulàla Cove runs for the most part parallel with Nangkauri Harbour, and is separated from the latter only by a range of low eminences, the near proximity of these mangrove swamps likewise imparts their baleful influence to the air of Nangkauri Harbour. There is absolutely no water here fit for drinking.
Katchal has large bays on both its west and its east sides, but they are almost entirely silted up with coral sand. The channel between Katchal and Kamorta is clear. Here we made short tacks in passing through, approaching the shores on either side within half a mile.
Little Nicobar has a good harbour on the north side, formed by the island of Pulo Milù and the N. coast of Little Nicobar, which is bent almost at a right angle. This anchorage is accessible in all winds, and is well sheltered, but a considerable portion adjoining the shore of Little Nicobar is rendered useless by banks of coral.
Notwithstanding the most careful examination of this part
of the coast, we could not discover the spot, which in the Danish charts is marked as furnishing water fit for drinking, but perceived nothing save mangrove swamps, with numerous water-courses filled with brackish water, the two largest of which we navigated in our gondola as far as was practicable.
The island of Kondul in St. George's Channel forms another very fair anchorage; and similarly on the N. side of Great Nicobar, one finds several suitable bays, the most easterly of which, called Ganges Harbour, is fringed with coral banks, rendering it proportionately difficult of access. The anchorage of Kondul may be selected for one reason, namely, that it is land-locked towards both N.E. and S.W., besides having the additional advantage of being airy, and distant from the mangrove swamps, whereas in the bays on the N. coast of Great Nicobar these are of immense extent. One of these mangrove swamps in the central cove was traversed by one of the naturalists, the result of which was that he found a river debouching into the sea through the very heart of the swamp, which, however, so long as the sea-water could find entrance, was not of course drinkable.
On the west side of Great Nicobar, along the whole length of which we sailed, but which we could not visit more carefully, owing to want of time and the heavy S.W. swell of the ocean, several other promontories and coves are apparently available as harbours, and moreover may be supposed to be the embouchures of rivers. At the south point of Great Nicobar there is a large bay, which however being quite exposed from
S.W. to S.E. must be anything but a safe anchorage during the S.W. monsoon. During the prevalence of the N.E. monsoon it seems tolerably well suited for an anchorage, if the eastern promontory be kept S.E. by S., and the anchor be cast in soundings of from 10 to 13 fathoms. Landing, however, is at all times a matter of difficulty, as the surf is very boisterous and the swell of the sea pretty heavy. Its most remote point is the mouth of the river Galatea, which, however, is closed by a sand-bar, and for that reason cannot be easily reached. This bay, owing to its configuration, is excessively hot and sweltering, and with reference to its salubrity cannot be recommended as a suitable abode.
The climate of the Archipelago, though tropical, is not nevertheless to be ranked among the hottest, in consequence of its insular position, and of the whole of the islands being thickly clothed with forest. Hence the quantity of rain, which, as has been seen, is sufficient to keep the rivers full even in the dry season. According to the meteorological observations made on these islands by various observers at different periods of the year, the average temperature does not exceed 77° Fahr., much about the temperature of the fluid found in the fresh unripe cocoa-nut. But during the months of April and October respectively, at which period calms prevail in these islands, the maximum temperature of 86° to 88° Fahr. is reached.
Considering the violence with which rain falls, and that the dry season of the N.E. monsoon from November to March,
and the damp season of the S.W. monsoon from April to October, are by no means so sharply defined on these islands as on the adjoining coasts of the mainland, the quantity of annual rainfall must be enormous. At certain times it is not much less than 100 or even 150 inches, and yet it probably is not so high as that presented by other localities, which experience the regular changes of the monsoons, as for instance, in the Straits of Malacca, where the annual rainfall is 208 inches, or Mahableshwur south of Bombay, where it amounts to no less than 254 inches! March is the dryest month in the year. During the whole of the month, which we spent on the islands or in their immediate vicinity, we only had three sharp thunder-storms. These become more frequent and severe during April, until about May or June the S.W. monsoon sets in and envelopes the islands in rain-clouds. Where some special physical configuration of the soil does not admit of the rapid carrying off of the redundant deluge of rain, the island must necessarily be unusually well off for water. Of the correctness of this theory we were enabled thoroughly to satisfy ourselves, since the close of the dry season is necessarily unfavourable to there being any water remaining in the streams and brooks; notwithstanding which even the smallest of the islands, Pulo Milù and Kondul, although their rivulets had ceased to flow, possessed a sufficient supply of sweet drinkable water among the numerous basin-shaped pools that occur in the beds of the various streams. From the forest-covered slopes of Tillangschong also, small streams of fresh
water are continually trickling. The insignificant brooks and rivers of the large well-wooded islands lying further to the south of Great and Little Nicobar, are in like manner kept full the whole year by the blessed abundance of the watery element. On the other hand, the northern islands, so far at least as the marl-formation extends, seem to be but scantily supplied with water, especially on Kamorta, Nangkauri, Tringkut, and apparently Teressa and Bampoka as well. All the small streams on the two first-named islands, which fall into the Nangkauri harbour, were found to be very nearly dried up.
The principal beverage of the natives of these islands is the fluid contents of the unripe cocoa-nut, while it should seem that they fetch the water required for house purposes from the pools of sweet water, which they find scattered here and there among the river-courses. Springs we saw none, with the exception of the old ruined one of the Moravian Brethren near the village of Malacca on the island of Nangkauri. Kar-Nicobar, although likewise belonging to the same marl-formation as the before-mentioned islands, has nevertheless no lack of drinkable water, since the expanse of land raised from eight to twelve feet above the level of the ocean constitutes the site of those singular springs, the sweet water in which rises and falls with the ebb and flow of the tide. The explanation of this singular phenomenon must not be sought for in the filtration of the sea-water by the coral rock, but is simply due to the rain-water, being the lighter, floating
upon the surface of the sea-water, which is heavier, while the porous coral rock prevents the complete intermixture of the salt and fresh water. In the villages of Moose and Sáoui on Kar-Nicobar we saw several such cisterns, which always had eight or ten feet good fresh water. Of rivers, properly so called, we found but two, one falling into the northern Bay of Kar-Nicobar, the other at the southern point of Great Nicobar. The former, which from the luxuriant growth of the cabbage tree along its banks we named "Areca-river," is navigable for flat-boats for about two miles from its mouth, at which point further progress is arrested by some small rapids. Here the water is quite sweet, holding but a very little chalk in solution.
We found no mineral waters or warm springs. The hardened marl deposits of Nangkauri harbour we perceived however to be encased in a crust an inch thick of sulphate of magnesia, and fine silk-like glistening fibres; this results from the clay-marl containing sulphate of magnesia, so that very possibly by digging cistern-shaped cavities, a bitter saline solution might be obtained similar to that at present obtained under similar circumstances at Billin in Bohemia.
In consequence of the extraordinarily rich vegetation, the dampness of the soil, and the numerous mangrove swamps all along the coast, the climate, as may readily be conceived, is at present anything but salubrious. During the changes of the monsoons especially, a fever breaks out of so malignant a type that it is very frequently fatal to Europeans.
But, so long as dense forest, creeping plants, and swamps encumber the soil, there can be no country within the tropics favourable to the health of man, and all immigrants or other persons who make a sufficiently long stay in such localities, prepare themselves for being visited by maladies of the most formidable nature, among which fever and dysentery play the most conspicuous part.
Similar conditions are occasionally met with in certain parts of Europe where swamp and uncultivated land are exposed to the influences of a high temperature, of which examples enough are furnished in the malaria of Italy, and the marsh fever of the lagoons of Venice and along the coasts of Istria. And if such visitations make less impression upon us in Europe, it is not that there is little danger, but simply because, as habit is second nature, the regularity of their return has ceased to attract attention.
This is precisely what the English have experienced in the East Indies, it is what the German emigrant is now going through on the banks of the Mississippi and Ohio, in Brazil and in Peru, until the forests are cleared and rendered productive, until, in short, advancing cultivation has dispelled those miasmata, which are inevitably developed amid the undisturbed voluptuousness of nature.
When at certain seasons of the year the vital principles of millions upon millions of organisms begin to be active, they throw off oxygen into the atmosphere, replacing it by absorbing carbonic acid; while, on the other hand, different
organisms, in conformity with known chemical laws, are destroyed under similar conditions, and, under the influence of the atmosphere co-operating with humidity, ferment and become decomposed. From all which processes result products of emanation, which, caught up into the atmosphere and whirled away by the wind, become in their turn the means of nutriment and fertilization to other plants, thus imparting to tropical vegetation that marvellous rankness and super-abundance so fatal to the human frame. But the conditions which produce this tendency in the atmosphere to generate fever are not peculiar to certain localities, or strictly confined to these; they can be averted, and with them the vapours so prejudicial to health may be removed. We have but to raise up a barrier against that mighty all-devouring process of life and vegetation, which imperils our own conditions of existence, we have but to withdraw from the powerful agencies of chemical action the substances undergoing decomposition, to constrain the waters of heaven to follow certain definite directions, to drain every swamp, to clear the forest, to sweep away the dense underwood in order that the wind may wander unchecked over the now fertilized soil, and a wondrous alteration will take place in the climatic conditions of the Nicobar Islands. Of what may be achieved under such circumstances by energy and perseverance, the island of Penang, some 350 nautical miles distant, furnishes the most striking example, which within a very few decades has, by dint of the progressive clearing and cultivation of the
soil, been converted from a den of fever and malaria, a spot shunned by all men as a residence, into one of the most healthy localities in the East, so much so indeed that it has been made a resort for invalids!
Seduced by the attractive beauty of the harbour of Nangkauri, the various attempts at founding a settlement have almost without exception been confined to that site. Upon a more close examination however of the precise spot selected for these settlements, it becomes at once apparent that they were for the most part pitched upon the neck of land which divides the land-locked ill-ventilated harbour of Nangkauri from the Bay of Ulàla, surrounded as it is on all sides by thick mangrove swamps.
On such a site did the settlers erect their huts, and there, often at but a short interval after their arrival, did they find their grave; and if a very few of their number resisted the deadly influence of the miasmatic vapours, if even they were able for several years to drag along a miserable existence in such a scene, these can only be regarded as striking examples of an unusual vigour of constitution. It is true that most of these missionaries who founded settlements here were by no means properly housed and fed, which in such a climate is a matter of absolute prime necessity for the preservation of health. Often when already attacked with fever they toiled, spade in hand, delving the ground amid the exhausting heat of a tropical day in order to secure the means of subsistence, or gathered shell-fish along the beach, or hunted for reptiles or
birds through the swamps and forest, in order to provide themselves, by the sale of these natural curiosities in Europe, with the means of existence in those distant regions. Not without feelings of the keenest emotion and deepest sympathy is it possible to peruse the description given by one of these missionaries, Father Hänsel, of his mode of life on the island of Nangkauri, where he lived for seven years amidst the greatest privations and hardships. "On my frequent excursions along the sea-coast," says the noble, high-souled missionary, "it sometimes happened that I was benighted, and I could not with convenience return to our dwelling; but I was never at a loss for a bed. The greater part of the beach consists of a remarkably fine white sand, which above high-water mark is perfectly clean and dry. Into this I dug with ease a hole large enough to contain my body, forming a mound as a pillow for my head; I then lay down, and by collecting the sand over me buried myself in it up to the neck. My faithful dog always laid across my body, ready to give the alarm in case of disturbance from any quarter. However, I was under no apprehensions from wild animals; crocodiles and caimans never haunt the open coast, but keep in creeks and lagoons; and there are no other ravenous beasts on the island. The only annoyance I suffered, was from the nocturnal perambulations of an immense variety of crabs of all sizes, the crackling noise of whose armour would sometimes keep me awake. But they were well watched by my dog, and if any one ventured to approach too near, he was sure
to be suddenly seized and thrown to a more respectful distance. Or if a crab of a more tremendous appearance would deter my dog from exposing his nose to its claws, he would bark and frighten it away, by which however I was sometimes more seriously alarmed than the occasion required. Many a comfortable night's rest have I had in these sepulchral dormitories when the nights were clear and dry, and the heavens spangled with stars."[17]
After such a description, one cannot but feel astonished that any of these men, jealous for the faith, should have been able to linger on for years in such a plight, and assuredly no one will refuse to these heroes of Christianity their meed of the deepest admiration and gratitude, which they merit none the less that their labours among these natives were almost entirely unattended by any permanent good results.
It seems specially worthy of remark that the crew of the Austrian ship Joseph and Theresa, which spent as much as five months here, and that too during the rainy season (April to September), almost entirely escaped fever. This fact sufficiently proves that the rainy season is by no means the most unhealthy, but that the periods of transition from the dry to the wet season, and vice versâ, must be considered as
invariably prejudicial. At these times light variable winds alternate with thunder-showers, after which there is usually experienced great heat by solar radiation, which at once liberates the noxious emanations of the humid soil. Further on, during the actual rainy season, when the heavens are almost continually veiled, and the condition of the atmosphere and the soil is alike one of complete saturation, this phenomenon appears much less marked, and becomes in a corresponding degree less dangerous to human organization.
We are also of opinion that the time from the end of March to the end of April, as also the months of September and October, are the most insalubrious parts of the year, although on the Nicobars a man may be struck down with fever at any season, so soon as those precautions have been neglected, which are so necessary to observe in the uncultivated regions of the tropics. An instance on this point is furnished in the case of the crew of the Danish corvette Galatea. Of thirty individuals engaged in an exploring expedition up what is known as the Galatea river, in the southern Bay of Great Nicobar, and caught one night in a thunder-storm, which compelled them to remain in the forest wringing wet, no fewer than twenty-one fell ill of fever, which ultimately proved fatal in four cases.
So far as our own experience goes, the state of health on board the frigate during a stay of thirty-two days was highly satisfactory. During that entire period, out of 350 men only six took ill with fever, which number, however, at a later
period during our passage to the straits of Malacca, was increased to 21. Singular to say, those of the ship's company, who during our stay had never set foot on the Nicobar Islands, furnished the largest contingent of cases of fever, while of both officers and naturalists, who spent the whole day together among the swamps and the forest, and were exposed to all manner of fatigue, only three got upon the sick list. On the whole, however, even the few severer cases made an excellent recovery, and by the time we had anchored in the harbour of Singapore, all the fever patients were once more either quite well, or in a fair way towards convalescence.
As the examination of this Archipelago was, in consequence of the all but impenetrable forests, confined to the narrow strip of land along the shore, we had almost said to the region of cocoa-palms exclusively, its various geognostic features were very inadequately, yet withal approximately, ascertained. If we admit that a covering of vegetation of the utmost variety and primeval luxuriance, untouched by the hand of man, and entirely unreclaimed by cultivation, may be considered as the expressive feature by which an estimate could be arrived at of the different geognostic conditions of soil beneath, we may succeed in our attempt from the characteristics of this primeval vegetation, to come to some definite conclusion as to the quality and the greater or lesser productiveness of the ground. According to this method of computing, it would seem that,
I. The forest, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, includes
70⁄100 of the entire surface of the island:—the soil being limestone, rich in alkalies, spungy, with clay-sand, and exceedingly fertile.
II. On the other hand, the grass vegetation proper may be set down at 15⁄100 of the surface: a barren, clay soil.
III. The cocoa forest may be estimated at 5⁄100 of the entire area; upon a fruitful soil of coral conglomerate, coral sand, and dried alluvium.
IV. In like manner the screw-pine forests cover 5⁄100 of the entire insular surface, the soil marshy but well suited for cultivation, with fresh-water bogs, and moist fresh-water alluvium.
V. Lastly, the mangrove forest in like manner may be roughly estimated at 5⁄100 of the superficial area, and is a swampy soil, unfitted for cultivation, consisting of salt-water marshes, and alluvium, moistened by salt-water.
The entire superficial area of the islands may be computed at about 627 square miles. Reckoning only 7⁄10 therefore of the surface as consisting of soil suitable for culture, which may undoubtedly be assumed as a fair approximation, we have a surface of 439 square miles capable of being made productive. But even the very ground now exclusively covered with grass, might be made productive with a more numerous population and a corresponding improvement in cultivation, so that these islands, now the abode of about 5000 savages, could easily support in comfort a population of over 100,000 industrious men.
At present the chief product of the islands is the cocoa-nut palm, which grows for the most part on the sea-shore, so far as the coral sand reaches. Within the same limits is the existence of the inhabitants confined, destitute as they are of industry or the capacity to cultivate the soil. This invaluable plant seldom extends far into the interior, and from this circumstance was named by a celebrated German traveller and botanist, Martius, the "Sea-shore palm." It is, however, as yet undecided whether the cocoa-palm is indigenous to the Nicobar Islands, or whether, cast on these shores by the waves, it has, by virtue of its well-known property of putting forth shoots even in salt-water, gradually propagated itself without any assistance from man.
It is said that the profit realized by those engaged in the trade in these nuts, amounts to from 20 to 40 per cent., and could greatly be increased, if, as for example in Ceylon, oil-presses were erected, by means of which the expense of transporting the heavy bulky loads of nuts would be economised, the oil being exported direct. On the more northerly islands the cocoa forest embraces proportionately a far larger area, those more to the south being much less abundantly supplied, especially Greater Nicobar, where there is hardly any. Accordingly the more northerly islands are much the more densely peopled, and the cocoa-palms are there subdivided as property, while on the southern islands they seem to be freely enjoyed in common.
Next in importance to the cocoa-nut palm, as a means of
subsistence to the inhabitants, is the Pandanus Melori, of the family of the Pandaneæ, the fruit of which (Melori or Caldevia of the Portuguese, the Laróhm of the natives) supplies the place of rice and Indian corn, neither of which are grown on the island, owing to the ignorance of the islanders of the principles of cultivation, although the nature of the soil seems eminently suited to the production of both. From the huge fruit of this Pandanus, a species of bread is prepared, very similar to apple-marmalade, which is eaten by the natives along with the soft white kernel of the ripe cocoa-nut. The leaves are prepared as mats of every sort and description, and are occasionally used for the manufacture of sails.
The Bread-fruit tree (Podocarpus incisa), which furnishes such excellent nutriment, that, according to Cook,[18] three trees suffice to support a man during eight months, is found on the islands in single individuals, and we never happened to see its fruit used by the natives. The plantain too seemed but sparingly planted, although the elegant leafy green canopy of this the most important and nutritious plant, after the cocoa-nut, requires but little care in cultivation. The sugar-cane, the muscat-nut tree (Myristia Moschatea), and the Cardamum Elettaria,[19] grow and flourish on most of the
islands, and orange and lemon trees of the most stupendous proportions may be met with, growing wild in the immediate vicinity of the native dwellings.
Of tubers we only found the yam growing in considerable quantities, but it seems to be cultivated by the natives more as an article of exchange with the ships visiting the islands, than for their own use. So far however as we could ascertain the capabilities of the soil, the Jucca (Jakopha Manihot), the sweet potato (the Camote of the Spanish colonies), and other American tuberous roots, might flourish here at least as well as on the hot damp coasts of the western continent.
The number of plants collected by our botanists throughout this group of islands, amounts to 280 different species; however by a more thorough exploration of the Archipelago, the Phanerogamous species may be increased one half in number.
There are also two plants, which, although they cannot be included among the vegetable products suited for the sustenance of man, must nevertheless be taken into account as contributing in an important degree to the subsistence of the natives. These are the Areca palm, and the Betel shrub.
The nut of the Areca Cateehu, and the green leaf of the Piper Betle, constitute as already mentioned, together with coral lime, the chief ingredients of Betel, that singular salivatory compound, which has become a prime luxury for the
inhabitants of the Indies, and the adjacent islands. The Areca palm, with its graceful straight stem and elegant tuft of leaves, is indigenous to the entire group, and is found in considerable quantities. With the enormous demand for it as a salivatory, as also as an article of medicine, it might, had the natives the slightest turn for cultivation, yield a large profit as an article of commerce. The Betel shrub is also found in large quantities in these islands, and needs but little looking after.
The wealth of the forest in ornamental timber, and wood fit for building purposes, is so great that, if carefully surveyed and judiciously thinned, they would not only furnish the settler with cleared soil suitable for cultivation, but would likewise permit an immense profit to be realized.[20]
The Nicobar Islands had been recommended by a learned member of the Society of Physicians of Vienna, as a special subject of inquiry as to whether this group were not by position, conditions of soil, and climate, particularly suitable for the cultivation of the Peruvian bark tree, whose importance for medical purposes is daily increasing. So far as
our brief stay admitted, we did not lose sight of this object, but the practical observations we made in the course of our voyage led us to conclusions widely different from those which, representing the quinquina tree as in danger of being extirpated on its native soil, South America, by the carelessness of the Indians, regarded its transplantation into other countries as a question of the utmost importance for the interests of the human race. The China tree, very far from becoming extinct, is carefully cultivated in Peru, Bolivia, and Ecuador. The bark is systematically cropped in most of these localities, and consequently there is no occasion to anticipate any considerable increase in price, or failure in the supply of this precious drug. We shall have an opportunity, when describing our stay at Java and at the west coast of America, to revert at length to this question, and shall have only to add the remark, that the great expense of such an attempt, and the extraordinary watchfulness and care which must be bestowed on the China tree for a number of years before the slightest profit can be derived from it, seem alone to render hopeless such an undertaking as its introduction in the Nicobar Islands, even were the climatic conditions better suited to such an experiment than we have reason to believe that they are.
As for the zoology of these islands, it seems to be much less developed, whether as regards numbers, or size, than might be expected, considering the luxuriance of the vegetation. The forests are by their very nature poor in living denizens,
the majority of these consisting of various species of birds. In like manner the sea is but little productive, and the nets which we cast over the ship's side at Kar-Nicobar, Pulo Milù, and Ganges Harbour, like the hook and line, brought up but few specimens, and those hardly deserving of notice. The natives have no nets of any sort, their mode of fishing consisting simply of raising a succession of weirs, in which they can harpoon or take their prey.
Of domestic animals we saw only swine, hens, dogs, and cats, all of which live upon cocoa-nut. The dog, a smooth-haired cur of a light brownish-yellow colour, with pointed ears, is a sad coward, and his bark rather resembles a prolonged howl. The cats and the hens are exactly like those of Europe. Cattle for draught or the dairy, are as yet entirely unknown to the natives; yet they might easily be introduced from the adjoining shores of India. The zebra breed especially, already acclimatized in the tropics, would be of conspicuous utility as beasts of draught, supposing any attempt made at cultivation of the soil.
Judging by the experiments made at Pulo Milù, the introduction of goats and sheep could only be accomplished with much difficulty. On the other hand all manner of poultry would be found to thrive in these islands.
In passing from this very cursory consideration of the natural history of these islands[21] to the race of man who inhabit
them, we find ourselves confronted with a people, who, on account of the primitive manner in which they live, attract our interest in the highest degree. The natives of the Nicobar group, whose entire number may be estimated at from 5000 to 6000 souls, are, as we have already remarked, large and well formed, the skin of a dark brown, bronze-like hue, and owing to the prevailing custom of anointing their bodies with cocoa-nut oil, usually presenting a glancing appearance, and emitting a peculiar odour. This inunction is apparently intended to obviate superabundant perspiration, as also any skin diseases, just as the Indian races west of the Mississippi are accustomed to protect their naked bodies against the direct influences of the cold, by rubbing in the fat of animals. The practice of daubing the face does not seem to be so extensively resorted to, as previous descriptions of the Nicobar islanders had led us to believe. We saw only one solitary native, at the village of Malacca in the island of Nangkauri, who had painted his forehead and cheeks with the red pigment obtained from the seeds of the Bixa Orellana (the well-known Annatto dye). Instances of tattooing we never fell in with, nor do these islanders seem to have any desire to imitate the beautiful, sometimes absolutely artistic, designs punctured on the hands and feet of the Malays and Burmese who occasionally visit them. Moles and blotches on the breast and arms are of frequent occurrence. The forehead of the Nicobar islander is slightly rounded, and in many cases may even be said to be well formed, but it falls
away somewhat suddenly; the face is usually broad, and if we except the rather prominent zygomatic process, approaches the oval type; the hinder portion of the head is flat and seems as though crushed inwards, a circumstance of which Fontana, in his well-known journal already mentioned, takes special notice, and which deserves the more attention, that we think we are in a position, by means of actual measurement, and inquiries made on the spot, to say with certainty that this modification of the normal form of the skull is not natural to this race, but is artificially produced. We especially rely upon the circumstance, that among the natives of Nangkauri and others of the islands, the custom prevails of pressing quite flat the head of the newly-born infant, probably in conformity with Nicobar laws of taste and beauty: in order to make the result more certain, they keep continually repeating this experiment by a variety of different means during a considerable time. The nose is of ordinary dimensions, but is always of unusual breadth, and coarse of outline; we found a few individuals with noses of exorbitant length. Owing to the incredible extent to which the disgusting practice of chewing the betel-nut is carried, their mouth, naturally large, is hideously distorted. On the island of Treis we saw an aged native, whose tongue, in consequence of the incessant betel-chewing, had been attacked in a similar manner as his teeth. The chin is for the most part without any marked characteristic, and is usually rather retreating. The maxillary bones are broad and projecting, and the
zygoma has a rather bold curve. The ears are small, but the flaps on the other hand are so broad, that when pierced they are ornamented with a piece of bamboo an inch thick.
Some of the natives make use of this broad aperture to store away cigars. The thin eye-brows do not curve over the whole of the superior arch of the eye. The hair for the most part is beautiful, thick, black, and soft, in many instances depending low on both sides. The beard is universally very thin, and instances of mustachios or goatees are very rarely encountered. However a beard does not seem to be classed among those objects which add to the Nicobar ideal of beauty. At least, as often as they found an opportunity of seizing a pair of scissors from our dressing-cases, we used always to see the natives eagerly setting about extirpating the few hairs, which despite all their endeavours would persist in appearing upon the upper lip on either side of the mouth. The expression of their face is grave, tranquil, and rather insouciant. We never saw in their features any expression of emotion, such for instance as might have been imparted by delight at having obtained some coveted object, not even when they had manifested the utmost eagerness to possess it. The only excitement which their ordinarily impassive countenances were however many a time called on to indicate, took the form of an expression of pain and anxiety, as often as they saw a number of strangers make a descent upon their islands. The singularly marked similarity of feature in each and every individual, may safely be ascribed to the similarity of
condition universally prevalent, to the small scope given to the play of their affections, and to the frequent intermarriage, which must necessarily be the case where, as in these islands, a couple of hundred human beings form the whole population of an island, and where intercommunication with the adjoining islands is so confined.
The assertion by Fontana, that the natives never cut their nails, but on the other hand shave off their eye-brows, we have never found confirmed in any of the islands we visited, although very possibly some few individuals, certainly so far as we could find very scanty in number, may ape the customs of their Malay and Chinese visitors, by letting their nails grow. Of cripples, or at all events of individuals stunted in their growth, we saw but two, the first case being that of a native of Kar-Nicobar, who in consequence of a dislocation of the radius at the wrist joint was entirely powerless of the left arm; while the second, a sort of dwarf, who was likewise an inhabitant of that island, presented a well-marked corpulence in the extremities, and fingers so swelled up and short, that he was known among his neighbours by the nickname of Kiutakuntí (short finger).
Hitherto the natives seem to have escaped the ravages of syphilitic diseases. As to any instances of visitations of virulent though temporary epidemics, we could not get any information of such having occurred; they have however in their language a word (Mallók) for the small-pox, of the existence of which we had convinced ourselves by
personal demonstration in the case of a Malay, whose face was frightfully disfigured by the marks of this appalling disease.
Although in a climate the annual average of which is 81° Fahr., clothes are all but unnecessary, the natives nevertheless manifest an extraordinary passion for European clothing, and when it seemed impracticable by any other means to elicit an expression of pleasure on their calm, indifferent, emotionless countenances, it was always possible to succeed by presenting them with a shirt, a coat, or a black silk round hat. As however the natives have seldom been presented with more than one such article at a time, and many a year is apt to elapse ere he gets another, by which he might succeed in gradually completing his dress, the Nicobarian makes his appearance before strangers attired in the most extraordinary fashion, almost entirely naked, sometimes with only a black hat on his head, or pluming himself on being spruced up in a frock coat (but without shirt, stockings, or head-gear), which on the plump naked brown skin of this child of nature has far more the appearance of a straight-waistcoat than a comfortable article of dress.
The natives show infinitely more vanity in the selection of a piece of clothing, than calculation as to its real necessity or suitability. A large low-crowned white hat with broad rim, which we presented to one native, gained not the slightest approval, although both in form and colour it was far better suited to protecting the wearer against the rays of the tropical
sun than a high, narrow-brimmed, fashionable black silk hat, to the possession of which the natives of Kar-Nicobar and Nangkauri attach quite an inordinate value. For such an article, in the course of barter, they offer 1600 ripe cocoa-nuts, while for a long piece of wide dark-coloured muslin, in which they are wont to envelope their dead, they will give only 1200 such fruits. But the most characteristic head-gear of the Nicobarians is a bandeau made of dried leaves of the cocoa-nut palm, which gives them quite a picturesque appearance. We saw but few ornaments worn, such as necklaces, bracelets, &c., only one or two of the younger men having their hands and their necks adorned with massive rings of silver and iron wire.
The dwellings of the natives are usually round, beehive-shaped huts, resting on a number of stakes of from six to eight feet in height. Simple as is the construction of these huts, it nevertheless, especially on the island of Kar-Nicobar, possesses a certain degree of ornament, we might almost say elegance, while the thatching of dried palm-leaves, as also the beams and the walls constructed of reeds (Calamus Rotang), are a branch of industry which would do honour even to civilized races of the world. The natives usually cower or squat on the ground, or seat themselves upon some cocoa-nut that has chanced to fall, while at night, stretched out upon the flowers shed by the Areca palm, and with their heads elevated by a piece of hard wood, they find anywhere a sufficiently comfortable couch.
The means of subsistence of the Nicobar islanders are anything but abundant. As they are utterly ignorant of cultivation, they are entirely indebted for the very first necessaries of life to the provision which a bountiful nature has supplied to them, without the assistance of man's labour. Their chief articles of food are the cocoa-nut and the pandanus fruit. As with the natives of India, so among the natives of the Nicobar group, the cocoa-palm is applied to the most various purposes, although it would be difficult to make it fulfil all the ninety and nine useful purposes which the Hindoo proverb assigns to this noble individual of the royal race of palms. The cocoa-palm likewise constitutes the chief article of export of the entire group, while the profit from the Trepang (Biche de Mar of the English, a sort of cockle), edible swallows' nests, tortoise-shell, amber, and so forth, is of the highest importance in the interchange of commerce.
The betel shrub (Piper Betle), next to the cocoa-nut and pandanus fruit, one of the most important necessities of the inhabitants of these islands, is not indigenous, but has been introduced hither from the peninsula of Malacca, and formed for a long time an article of commerce and exchange. At present this creeper, which spreads with hardly any particular care, is found in such quantities that only a small proportion of the leafy produce can be consumed by the sparse population. It was always incomprehensible to us in what could consist the great charm of betel-chewing, that a habit so loathsome should be so extensively practised by the very
lowest slaves of the princes of India, by poor as well as rich, nay, should fling its chains, as it actually does, even over women and children. A lucky chance, however, threw in our way a Sanscrit poem (Hytopedesa) which celebrates as follows the thirteen cardinal virtues of the betel-leaf:—"Betel is pungent, bitter, aromatic, sweet, alkaline, astringent, a carminative, a dispeller of phlegm, a vermifuge, a sweetener of the breath, an ornament of the mouth, a remover of impurities, and a kindler of the flame of love! O friend! these thirteen properties of betel are hard to be met with, even in heaven!"[22]
It would be an inquiry of considerable interest to trace the influence which the incessant betel-chewing exercises over the longevity of the inhabitants, and the changes caused in the masticatory organs, which are so constantly exposed to these pernicious practices.
That which most deeply struck us throughout the Nicobars, was the frightful decomposition of the teeth, whereas in other betel-chewing races these were stained only of the same deep crimson as the lips and the gums. We at first ascribed this difference to some variation in the mixture of the ingredients, but we repeatedly perceived afterwards that the betel used on the Nicobar group consisted of nothing else than a small piece of Areca-nut, which, sprinkled with a little chalk, was enveloped in a green aromatic betel-leaf, and so was popped
into the mouth. The Hindoos, on the other hand, add to these ingredients, which they always carry about with them in elegant cases, a certain astringent substance (formerly called Terra Japonica, because it was long supposed to be a mineral product) made out of the pith of the Acacia Catechu, a species of Mimosa; or occasionally add to the usual masticatory composition a species of resin obtained from the Melaleuca Cajeputi, as also a little tobacco.
The frightfully destructive effects of the betel on the teeth and lips of the Nicobar natives, is apparently attributable only to some difference in the proportions of the ingredients used, very probably to the use of a larger quantity of coral lime. What is alleged of a custom the Nicobarians have of filing down their teeth and rubbing them with some corrosive substance, rests exclusively upon conjecture, and is confirmed neither by personal observation nor by the account given by the natives themselves, nor by the Malay traders who frequent Great Nicobar and Nangkauri.
In social as well as in religious matters, we must consider the inhabitants of this Archipelago as among the child-races of the world. They consider it a duty to marry very young and take but one wife, but they age with uncommon rapidity. Of about 100 natives with whom during our stay on the various islands we were in communication, hardly one was above forty, and the majority may be roughly estimated at from twenty to thirty. If, moreover, we set it down as improbable that all the aged men should have taken to flight
like the women and children, it should seem that these natives never attain a very extended duration of life.
Of the therapeutic powers of various plants that are found in their forests, the natives have but little knowledge. All that they have ever had of drugs have been almost entirely supplied from Europe by captains of English vessels. Although they attach the most extravagant importance to the possession of these, these medicines are, if anything, more prejudicial than beneficial to them, as they of course understand nothing of their use, and often apply them in the most absurd manner. It seems that once some ship captain in order to get quit of their importunities made over to them all the articles he could most conveniently spare, such as castor-oil, Epsom salts, spirit of camphor, turpentine, peppermint, eau de Cologne, &c. &c., and ever since they pester each visitor for medicine! A native once urgently begged us to give him a little spirit of turpentine; on our asking him to what purpose he wished to apply it, he answered that he wanted to rub himself with it, and take a few drops internally, because he believed it was an excellent preservative against ague and pain in the chest!
The maladies with which the natives are most commonly afflicted, are intermittent fever, phthisis, and rheumatism. In some cases we remarked Elephantiasis Arabica (the Juzam of Arab writers), called by the Nicobarians Kelloidy, attacking the bones, and several different forms of cuticular eruption. The severity of these diseases must be ascribed less to the
insalubrity of the climate than to the unwholesome mode of existence of the natives. Can we feel surprised that naked men, who do not inhabit the more favourably situated spots ventilated by regular winds, but live on the swampy coast, in the sandy bays that are fringed with a forest belt, where they can grow their cocoa-palms with the least labour to themselves, who leave their bodies exposed now to the violence of tropical rains, now to the fiery rays of a tropical sun, and whose food consists almost exclusively of cocoa-nuts and the fruit of the pandanus,—can we wonder that they should be in an especial degree subject to disease? It is a mistake to suppose that the food of inhabitants of the tropics is that assigned by Nature herself, and therefore the most beneficial and suitable. For, despite all theory, which for residents in the tropics chiefly prescribes substances with plenty of carbon and nitrogen as the proper articles of food, we see Europeans, more especially Englishmen, in the hottest climate in the world, with a thermometer that rarely falls below 86° Fahr., devouring, just as in a more northern climate, strong soups, gigantic beef-steaks, and mutton cutlets to any extent, contemptuously turning up their noses at mere vegetable diet, and barely touching marmalade or sweetmeats; yet there they are blooming in the best of health, far better even than that of the natives. Indeed, it is a fact full of interest, and confirmed by observations carried on for years, that in the Presidency of Madras, for example, the Hindoos and Mahmudas, so widely different in their customs and mode
of life, were much more seriously attacked by fever than the Europeans resident there, in such entirely different conditions of climate than they were accustomed to. On the other hand, so far as regards sanitary measures, that portion of the aboriginal population presents the most favourable results which is most intimately allied to the Europeans, and applies in its own case the precepts of modern civilization.
So soon as the natives are attacked by fever with any severity, they rapidly succumb. However, we have never heard tell of any of that barbarous inhumanity which any medicine-man, whose treatment is unsuccessful, is said to experience at the hands of the relatives and friends of the patient, which indeed is all the more improbable as, were such really the case, considering the small advantages and scrimp fees likely to be picked up by a smart medicine-man among such an impoverished race, there would hardly be met with one Manluéna in the entire group! The head-mark of a doctor in the southern islands is his unusually long floating hair. On our inquiring of a native what qualifications were requisite in order to become a doctor, he replied with the most charming naïveté: "One must be the son of a doctor!" From this reply we may gather that in the Nicobar Islands medical skill and knowledge of the healing art are confined to certain families! We afterwards found this information confirmed, upon our discovering that the youthful Manluéna of Great Nicobar, who so severely kneaded and twisted the arm of one of the associates of the Expedition,
was the son of an aged doctor of the island of Kondul, and owed his reputation solely to the circumstance of his kindred. Besides cases of sickness, the advice, the adroitness, and the zeal of the Manluéna are held in special repute for the driving out of the evil spirit or Eewees, by which, as already mentioned, the inhabitants of the Nicobar Islands believe themselves to be incessantly surrounded.
Of idols proper, such as barbarous tribes construct and honour, and to whom they dedicate temples, they have none; nor have they any object in nature, as, for instance, a lofty tree, a huge rock or a hill, to which they attach a certain charm, like some of the Central American tribes. They have not even a word for the Divine idea in their language, nor for Godhead, nor for any Beneficent Principle or Being, and the rudely carved figures, which are found set up in all sorts of comical postures within their huts, are intended to serve no higher purpose, than to frighten away those evil spirits which even the Manluéna has been unable to see, though he sets himself forward as able to hold converse with them.
The notion of a Being, whose wisdom and whose love rule the world, is quite as foreign to their minds as the conception of a spiritual life in the future after death. We repeatedly asked one of their most intelligent leaders, who also spoke a little English, whether he believed he should ever again recognize his dead friends and relatives? But he replied invariably with a cold, indifferent, "Never, never!" All that we told them of the privileges of a believing Christian,
of a Divine Being, of the belief in a future state of existence after death, served only to fill them with astonishment, but they seemed ready enough to listen to such subjects. What little they had heard upon these truths from missionaries and ship captains, appeared however to have left them with very confused notions.
From all that came under our notice, the mode of life of these islanders is singularly uniform and indolent, its most important events consisting probably of the alterations necessary by the interchange of the seasons. They know of no other method of computing time than the change of the moon and of the monsoons. At the beginning of the wet season or S.W. monsoon, and at the corresponding period of the dry season or N.E. monsoon, there are certain festivals, which somewhat resemble the "sowing feasts" and "harvest homes" of the American aboriginal stocks. They have however no appointed day of rest, corresponding to the sabbath of the Christian Church, nor indeed do they need such, seeing that in their mode of life every day is a holiday! They have no measure for time, nor indeed for anything else: not a single native could give us any idea of his own age, nor could count above 20.[23] Time has for them not the slightest value: the watchword "Time is money!" which first given by England, is at present resounding throughout the world, falls voiceless and ineffectual on their insensible ears. Their
reckoning of time is as limited as their capacity for recollecting by-gone occurrences. The presence of Christian missionaries at various periods, as also the visit of the Danish corvette Galatea in 1847, had already almost entirely disappeared from their memory. Only among a very few of their numbers have some of the names clung to the recollection, such as Galatea, and Steene Bille (which they pronounced Piller).
We could not find anything that bore the least resemblance to any settled form of government, to any distribution upon fixed principles of the possessions of the general community, to any recognition of individual right, to any tribunal for settling quarrels, &c. &c. They recognize the relations of family and of property; on the other hand, the power of the captain, one of whom the greater number of villages has each for itself, and whom they call Mah or Umiáha (old), extends no further than giving him the right to be the first to trade with such foreign ships as make their appearance, and to inaugurate the barter-system. Indeed this very institution of captainship, although much liked by the natives, does not at all seem as though it were part of their own system, but to date from the period when English merchant vessels began to visit these islands regularly.
As to the social life of the natives, their family relations, and so forth, we could get such scanty and uncertain data to go upon, what with the cursory visits we paid to the various islands, and considering the women and children had everywhere fled, while the men regarded us simply as intruders,
that we do not venture to publish any special information upon this point. Be it however permitted to express our opinion, that, judging by the tendency to a decent style of dress and the extreme elegance of the decorations of the canoes and the huts of the islanders of Kar-Nicobar, as contrasted with the destitution, nakedness, and wretched condition of the natives of the southern islands of the group, civilization seems to be advancing from north to south with slow but sure steps. And it will probably interest the philologist to be informed that both in Kar-Nicobar and Nangkauri, the most important settlement bears the same name, Malacca, as the chief city on the adjoining Malay peninsula. As the natives in this delicious far niente existence live exclusively upon the precious gifts of an all-bountiful Nature, which provides them at once with food and drink, one naturally finds among them few implements of labour, indeed only such as are indispensably necessary in erecting their huts, in preparing their canoes, and in enabling them readily to open the cocoa-nuts. And even these tools, as, for instance, hatchets, cutlasses, files, &c., were first procured through intercourse with civilization.
Their weapons consist merely of lances or javelins with points of iron or hardened wood, by the number of which, it is presumed, the wealth of a Nicobar islander is estimated. A cross-bow, which we saw in the possession of a native of Kar-Nicobar, although made on the island, was manifestly of European design originally, and merely an imitation.
Of musical instruments we did not find a single specimen in Kar-Nicobar, whereas on the southern islands there is a six, sometimes a seven-holed flute in use, made of bamboo-cane, which, as we afterwards discovered, had been brought hither by the Malays; and also a kind of guitar about two or three feet in length, hollowed out, and with sound-holes in the side, and made of thick bamboo and reed strings. On the whole, however, the Nicobarians seem to be much too apathetic and indifferent a race to have any special predilection for music, singing, or dancing. Accordingly at their monsoon festivals and other holiday-times, their notion of dancing is limited to hopping round in a circle with arms entwined, while they at the same time keep up a listless humming noise.
In the case of such a race, which has no civilization or industry of its own, it is out of the question to speak of their having any regular industrial occupation in the strict sense of the word. The particular and to them most beneficent plant, which supplies them at once with enough to eat and to drink, at the same time brings them, very reluctantly, into contact with civilization, and will yet become a main agent in introducing a knowledge of those necessities and acquaintance with those articles which are the product of a higher grade of civilization alone. The ripe nuts of the cocoa-palm constitute the chief article of export of the Nicobar Islands, and, what is even more important, supply the stimulus, which already arouses the native to a certain degree of activity, although
most of the nuts that are put on ship-board are collected not by the natives, but by the crews of the Malay vessels. All other articles of export, such as Biche de mar, edible birds' nests, tortoise-shell, amber, &c., are of very inferior importance, and are only taken as by-freight. According to published documents the northern islands can supply 10,000,000 cocoa-nuts, of which however, at present, not much more than 5,000,000, to wit, 3,000,000 from Kar-Nicobar alone, and 2,000,000 from the rest of the islands, are exported in all. As this fruit is one-sixth of the price it bears on the coasts of Bengal, the concourse of English and Malay vessels, especially from Pulo Penang, increases every year.[24] The trade is carried on by way of barter instead of money payments, although silver is highly valued too; for here also, despite all that is reported of the inordinate longing of the Nicobar natives for tobacco, glass beads, and such like rubbish, the truth of the adage is fully borne out that "Money is the most universal merchandise." Of silver coins, the natives are only acquainted with rupees, Spanish dollars, and English threepenny pieces, which latter they call "small rupees." Gold is as yet unknown among the southern islands, and therefore is valueless in the eyes of the natives.
So long as the relations of the natives with foreign nations were exclusively confined to barter with some couple of dozen English and Malay vessels, which latter visited the islands with the N.E. monsoon and left with the S.W. monsoon, thus
making but one voyage in the course of the year, the natives of the various islands kept up among themselves quite a frequent and regular communication. This favourable trait was undoubtedly owing in great measure to the defectiveness of their otherwise very elegant, but small, slight-built canoes, which are but ill adapted for voyaging to any remote distance.
Respecting that other swarthy, crisp-haired, savage race, widely different from that inhabiting the coasts of Nicobar, which, according to a legend, dwells in the forests of Great Nicobar, and lives upon snakes, vermin, roots, and leaves of plants, and in the Nicobar idiom called Baju-oal-Tschùa, we could only add to our stock of information by recitals that obviously pertained to the domain of Fable-land. When, however, we remember that not a single traveller or author who has indulged such gossiping, nay, that not even the natives who tell such stories of them, have ever seen one of this race, we shall be excused for suggesting in reply to the numberless conjectures afloat respecting these mysterious inhabitants, that the alleged denizens of the interior of Great Nicobar are neither a widely different race of men from the coast-natives, nor yet an offshoot of the crisp-haired swarthy race of Papuas from New Guinea, but that, dispossessed and degraded by a conjuncture of various hostile influences, they hold, with respect to the inhabitants of the sea-board, a similar position to that occupied by the Bushmen of Namaqualand to the Hottentots of Cape Colony.
In the circumstances in which the inhabitants of this group
of islands at present find themselves, without traditions, without proverbs, without songs, without monuments, and especially without any characteristic peculiarity in their habits and customs which could possibly throw a ray of light upon the obscurity of their origin, it is a bold undertaking to express any decided opinion as to the derivation and genealogy of this people. By far the most probable theory, as is also admitted by Dr. Rink, who visited these islands with the Danish Expedition, would represent them as an offshoot from the north-westerly boundary of the Malay race, as a people which, while possessing much in common with the Indo-Chinese stock, nevertheless in its physical characteristics seems to hold a middle rank between the Malay and the Burmese.
Considering the study of language as a most important and reliable source of information, the members of the Expedition made it their main object to draw up, in conformity with what is known as Gallatin's method, so extensively used by all American and English travellers, a vocabulary of about 200 words in both languages, viz. that used by the inhabitants of Nicobar, and that (widely different in all respects except the numerals) in use among the natives of the more southern islands. As a Malay barque from Pulo Penang was lying at anchor during our stay on the northern shores of Great Nicobar, so favourable an opportunity was of course made use of to prepare a similar vocabulary of the Malay idiom spoken at that port, which will give the philologist the advantage of being able to judge for himself as to the similarity existing between
these two idioms, and thence, by analogy, between the two races, and discriminate whether those scholars, such as Vatu, come nearer the truth who maintain that the Nicobar language is of Malay derivation with an admixture of foreign words, principally European, or those other students of philology who, as for instance Adelung, hold that the idiom used by these islanders is identical with some of the languages of the Indo-Chinese peninsula.
At the same time the ethnographer of the Expedition had endeavoured to ascertain by means of a new system of measurements of the human frame, drawn up by himself in concert with Dr. Edward Schwarz, one of the physicians of the Expedition, and with the co-operation and assistance of the latter, various data, such as, when applied to the various races inhabiting the earth, might justify many new and striking conclusions, and ultimately result in definitely fixing the relation, resemblance, or physical dissimilarity of the various races of man. Such a plan makes it much more easy by means of figures, those most undeniable evidences of the results of investigations, to get speedily and accurately at the required results, than by all the most specious theories laid down in the less certain domain of philosophic speculation.
These measurements, applied at three chief regions of the body, namely, the head, the trunk, and the upper and lower extremities, are intended to be scientifically discussed in a special memoir,[25] and we accordingly confine ourselves here to remarking
that the various points of measurements were not only determined in an anthropological point of view, but that among the 68 different categories, into which these measurements are naturally distributed, there occur some which supply many curious points of inquiry, as also considerable assistance not merely to national economics, the result of the light thrown upon the subject of the average of muscular strength of the various races as found by the dynamometer, but also to the graphic art, with respect to a more accurate acquaintance with the human skeleton as well as the entire figure.
In like manner we never omitted to collect some of the hair of the head from as many as possible of the various individuals measured, since the laborious researches of Peter Brown of Philadelphia on the human hair, have elevated it into a very remarkable means of tracing the origin of the various disparities of race.
It must also be considered as an especial boon for the science of comparative anatomy, as well as universal ethnography, that we succeeded in bringing away with us from the Nicobar Islands the skulls of two of the natives.
Lastly, a small collection of twenty-three subjects of ethnographical inquiry, collected from the various islands, will be found useful, partly as illustrating the information already obtained,
partly as affording evidence of the amount of culture of the inhabitants of the Nicobar Archipelago.
We are still called upon to answer the question already propounded, whether the Nicobar Islands are suited as the site of a colony, and whether the numerous attempts already made in this direction did not probably fall through for other reasons than those of climate.
According to inquiries instituted by the members of the Austrian Expedition, this insular group, by its geographical position in one of the very chiefest commercial routes of the world, and by the richness and abundance of the products of its soil, offers sufficient points of attraction to interest any leading commercial or maritime power, in securing possession of it. With regard to any colonization or cultivation of the soil by free European immigrants, there is as little to be said as of almost any other islands in the tropics. In order to make such spots aids to the extension of civilization, the utmost certainty of rule is imperatively necessary, such as was instituted with such marvellous results by England in Pulo Penang, Singapore, Sydney, &c. The climate of the Nicobars is very far from being so deadly, that mere residence upon them must speedily prove fatal to Europeans, and it will undoubtedly be signally ameliorated by a partial clearing of the forests, cultivation of the soil, channelling of the rivers, and drainage of the swamps. All such works however must be executed by Malay or Indian labourers, under the superintendence of Europeans. From what we have learned
by personal observation of the surprising influence which the transportation system has exercised in Australia upon the cultivation and development of the soil, as also upon the social condition of the convicts themselves, we do not hesitate, despite the distrust of experiments of such a nature which prevails in certain philosophic circles of Europe, to express our opinion, that with a little prudence and forbearance convict labourers in abundance could be imported, who would be at once better off, more contented, and more disposed to do honour to their man's estate than as at present confined at home in their dreary prison cells.[26]
If the various experiments hitherto made have all fallen through, the "effect defective" undoubtedly arises from the deficiency of means requisite for such an undertaking, and in the limited number of men, merely humanly speaking, who were engaged in such enterprises. The mere prime cost of clearing and cultivation, so as to enable them to anticipate a good return for their labour, must be set down as at the lowest computation between £100,000 and £150,000; the number of labourers employed in the undertaking at from 300 to 400; of whom all skilled artisans, such as carpenters, joiners, locksmiths, blacksmiths, bricklayers, masons, &c., must accompany the settlers from Europe.
The sums expended for the first outlay must not however be set down as entirely thrown away, since the fertility of
the islands in those colonial products that are most valuable, and the enormous quantity of cocoa-nut palms, must, under the impulse of cultivation and industrious habits, speedily make returns in countless tides of prosperity. So far as regards the aboriginal population, of whom there are not above 5000 or 6000 on all the islands, they would experience but little annoyance from the carrying out of such an enterprise. In fact, morally and materially they could only gain from the introduction of a foreign element. At present they are confined to the narrow belt of shore, where grows the cocoa-palm, their sole support. The interior of the island, so prolific in natural wealth of the most varied description, and which would become infinitely more valuable under a proper development of its capabilities, is utterly unknown and valueless to the native.
Once a settlement were fairly set a-going on the above-mentioned principles, the inhabitants of the Nicobar Archipelago would be placed under the tutelage of European civilization, and in their transactions would no longer be exposed to the knavery and caprices of ships' captains. It would be necessary to watch over the natives as over minors, so as not alone to secure for them material benefits, but by liberal sympathetic treatment as the groundwork of their education, gradually to establish that faith whose introduction hitherto, despite numerous praiseworthy endeavours in the past as well as the present century, has been doomed to be unsuccessful through a variety of extraneous circumstances. Moreover, the Nicobar Archipelago
would be a most convenient central station whence to impart the blessings of Christianity to the pagans of the adjoining groups of islands.
MEMORANDUM
Relating to those points of the Nicobar Archipelago whose geographical position was ascertained by the Novara Expedition.
| PLACE OF OBSERVATION. | Latitude North. | Longitude East from Greenwich. | |||||
| Sáui Cove | 9° | 14′ | 8″ | 92° | 44′ | 46″ | |
| Komios | 9 | 7 | 32 | 92 | 43 | 42 | |
| Morrock Bay | 8 | 32 | 30 | 93 | 34 | 10 | |
| Kauláha | 8 | 2 | 10 | 93 | 29 | 40 | |
| Kondul | 7 | 12 | 17 | 93 | 39 | 57 | |
| Galatea Cove | 6 | 48 | 26 | 93 | 49 | 51 | |
A very careful measurement, made at the point of observation in Sáui, of the Moon's distance from Jupiter, gave 6 h. 11 min. 2 sec., or 92° 45′ 30″ East.
Our voyage from the south side of Great Nicobar to Singapore occupied twenty days. This time the fine weather seemed to have entirely abandoned us. Day and night, at almost all hours and from all parts of the sky, we encountered
severe thunder-storms, with water-spouts, lightning, thunder, and the most tremendous rain-squalls. We could thoroughly realize that we were in the tropics at the beginning of the rainy season. One day during the prevalence of one of those floods, five tons during the first half hour, and in the course of an hour and a half eight tons, or 32,000 pints of water, were collected by the sailors in buckets and other similar utensils. These storms came now from the coast of Sumatra, now from the Malay peninsula, or yet again from the Straits of Malacca, and gave our jolly tars not a moment of repose. These tempests alternated with calms accompanied by a most oppressive sweltering hot temperature, and if by chance a breeze sprang up, it was sure to come out of the straits dead against us, and, coupled with the strong contrary current, fairly arrested our progress. Thus tacking about for 14 days between the north shore of Sumatra and Junk-Ceylon, we made as much way in that time as a fast steamer would have done in as many hours, and it was but poor consolation to us that several ships close to us, perhaps six or eight, shared the same adverse destiny.
An incident of a very singular nature suddenly gave us all plenty of excitement. As our deeply respected chaplain was sitting reading one evening in his cabin, he became sensible of a peculiar pressure on his foot; the servant being called, made his appearance with a candle, and on examining the floor was horror-struck at perceiving a pretty large sea-snake (Chorsydrus fasciatus), coiled round the foot of
the priest. In the same instant this gentleman instinctively rid himself of the poisonous reptile by a vigorous kick, while the various persons who hurried to the spot were resolved they would secure this dangerous assailant dead or alive. Within the narrow limits of a ship's state-room, a campaign is speedily brought to a close. His snakeship was forthwith routed out of his asylum, and hacked into more pieces than was exactly agreeable to the zoologists, who had been extremely anxious, and even expected, to preserve this now doubly interesting reptile almost uninjured in spirits of wine. It was a tolerably large specimen, one inch thick, and about three feet long, and had apparently either wriggled up the cable, or had been washed on board by a wave through the open sky-light of the cabin.
At length on the 9th of April wind and weather changed, and, in company with the entire squadron of companions in misfortune, we sailed gaily into the Straits of Malacca, with all sail set, and dead before the wind. On the 11th of April, early in the morning, we found Pulo Penang (also called Areca, or Prince of Wales' Island) lying broad on our port beam. Its chains of forest-clad mountains, gloomy, and overcast with dense masses of cloud, prevented our realizing the charms of this possession of England, such as they have been described by all who have visited it.
On the 12th of April we steered between the Sambelongs, or Nine Islands, and the island of Djara, and caught a glimpse of the lofty well-wooded mountains of the kingdom of Perah.
The channel through these straits is becoming more and more contracted owing to the débouche at this point of the river Perah. Shallow sand-banks and small rocky islands impede the navigation, and it is a common precaution for ships to cast anchor at the least approach of foul weather, an operation which is the more readily set about that the water is nowhere above twenty fathoms, but good holding ground throughout the straits. Moreover, the charts of these regions are thoroughly reliable and accurate, while at the most dangerous spot, where a sand-bank with only one fathom of water over it lies right in the tracks of vessels, a light-ship is moored, which we passed on the 13th of April, and continued our voyage through the night in perfect safety.
On the morning of the 14th April, the hill of Ophir (called also Ledang or Pudang), 5700 feet high, lay fair before us. We now found ourselves opposite the town of Malacca. The channel at this point approaches so close to the mainland, that we could easily distinguish churches and houses, and the frigate exchanged signals with the neighbouring semaphore.
Malacca, once the Malay capital, has at present altogether lost its former importance, and of the three English colonies in the Straits of Malacca, usually known as the Straits Settlements, is the least important in either a political or a commercial sense. The entire region was, until within these few years, in most evil repute for the atrocious piracies perpetrated here. Natives used to lie in wait in small canoes filled with
merchandise of all sorts, with which they boarded the passing ships, and while these were supplying themselves with fruit and fresh provisions, the former were spying the number of crew, as also the means of defence of the unfortunate vessel; after which it usually happened, that during the night the more defenceless of them, while becalmed or lying at anchor, would be attacked by an overwhelming force of pirates and ruthlessly plundered. Captain Steen Bille relates, that even so late as 1846, he loaded his cannon with shot, and maintained extra vigilance during the night.
We now sped along, still favoured by the wind, during the ensuing night, and on the morning of the 15th April had the satisfaction of reaching the entrance of the bay of Singapore, without once having to lie at anchor in the straits. The landscape that lay outstretched before us was splendid,—lofty wooded islands on the coast of Sumatra, and a whole archipelago of islets lay around us, in the channels between which prahus were sailing about, while Chinese junks, full-rigged ships and barques, were working in or out as the case might be, all intimating the proximity of a great mart of commerce. Equally fortunate as in the straits was our passage through the labyrinth of islands, through which a vessel must wind in order to reach Singapore. And this roadstead itself, what a contrast it presented to the lovely beach of the Nicobar Islands! Here were thousands of ships of all sizes and rigs, and the flags of nearly all sea-faring nations in the world. We found at anchor the English frigate Amethyst, and the
screw corvette Niger; and having warped ourselves into their vicinity, by 2 P.M. we had cast anchor in 13 fathoms water. Almost immediately afterwards an officer came off from the Amethyst to welcome us, and to impart to us the unpleasant intelligence that cholera had been raging in the city for some weeks past, and had also committed great havoc among the shipping in harbour. Even the captain and one of the crew of an English merchantman had succumbed but a few hours previously to this fell scourge, and the vessel had her flag half-mast high as a signal of mourning. This information at once deranged all our plans and projects with respect to Singapore, and had we not been compelled to victual here, we should at once have set sail. However, under the circumstances there was nothing to do but to spend five or six days at Singapore, and this breathing-space we availed ourselves of to obtain as much information as possible both by eye and ear touching this very remarkable colony, and its not less interesting inhabitants.