Travels in the East Indian archipelago

by Albert S. Bickmore

My next excursion, after a week in the woods, was with the commandant of the fort to a high bluff on the eastern side of the entrance of the bay of Kayéli. The fires which rage here year after year destroy much of the thick forest, and a tall, coarse grass takes its place. In these prairies grow many kayu-puti, or whitewood-trees, so called from their bark, which makes them resemble our white birches. Their branches are very scattering, and bear long, narrow leaves, somewhat like those of our willow, which are gathered about this time of year, for the sake of their “oil.” It is obtained in the following manner: the leaves are plucked off by hand and placed in baskets which are carried to sheds, where they are emptied into large kettles, that are partly filled with water, and carefully closed. From the centre of the cover of the kettle rises a wooden tube, to which is joined another of cloth, that is coiled up in a barrel containing cold water. A fire being made beneath the kettle, the volatile “oil” is carried over and condensed in the tube. About eight thousand bottles of this article are manufactured here every year. Indeed, it forms almost the only export from this large island. The price here is about a guilder per bottle. It is sent to Java and other parts of the archipelago, and is used as a sudorific. The tree, Melaleuca cajeputi, is also found in Amboina, Ceram, Celebes, and Sumatra, but the best oil comes from this island.

After we had wandered over a number of hills, we came down into a basin, in the bottom of which was a little lake, where we found a flock of brown ducks. The borders of the lake, however, were so marshy that I could get no fair shot at this rare game. In a small lake near by I had the privilege of seeing a pair of those beautiful birds, the Anas rajah, or “prince duck.” Around the borders of the lake was a broad band of dead trees. My hunter spied a nice flock of the brown ducks on the opposite side, and for nearly a mile we carefully crept along through the sharp-edged grass, until we were just opposite the flock. If we went down to the margin of the pond they would be completely shielded from our shot by the trees. I therefore ordered my hunter, whose gun was loaded with a ball for deer, to lie down, while I sprang upon my feet and tried the effect of one barrel of my fowling-piece, which, by-the-by, was loaded with small shot for doves. Shy as they were, we had evidently taken them by surprise. There was a click, a report, and four out of the eight remained where they were. The next thing was to get them. We had no dog nor boat, and I proposed to my hunter, as he was a good swimmer, that he swim for them, but he only shrugged his shoulders and declared the whole pool was so full of crocodiles that a man could not get out where the birds were before he would be devoured. It evidently was just such a place as those monsters delight to frequent, but I determined to go after them myself; and as I proceeded to carry out my resolution, my hunter, ashamed to remain on the banks, joined me, and after an ugly scramble through the bushes and sticks, and much wallowing in the soft mud, we got into the water and out to the flock, and as soon as possible were back again on the bank. The commandant now came up, and I recounted to him what we had been doing. He was horrified! That a man could go into that pond and escape the crocodiles for ten minutes he regarded as next to a miracle. A number of natives, who had frequently visited the place, assured me that nothing could have induced them to run such a risk of losing their lives. Our whole party then continued on over the grassy hills, and came down to Roban, a place of two native huts, and one of those was empty. Here, I thought to myself, will be another good locality to find new species, and I determined to return and occupy the vacant house for a few days.

It was already late in the afternoon before we thought of returning, and pushed off from the shore in a boat that had come round the cape at the mouth of the bay to take us home. Soon the wind sprang up ahead, our little sail was taken in, and our men used their oars; but the sun set and the moon arose, and yet we were slowly toiling on, and occasionally our boat grated on the top of a coral head that rose higher than those around it. At last we passed the cape, and reached the smooth water of the bay, yet the helmsman kept near the shore, and took us between two little islands on the east side of the bay, called by the natives Crocodile Islands. As we passed the low point of one of them, within a boat’s length from the shore, an enormous crocodile crawled out of the jungle and clumsily hurried down the narrow bank into the water, as if he had come out expecting to make a meal of us. The thought of the danger I had incurred that very day of being devoured by such monsters made me shudder and seize an oar, but the amphibious beast was already out of my reach.

Along the eastern side of Kayéli Bay there is an extensive coral reef, and farther out around the cape is another, a quarter of a mile wide, that is bare at low tide. Along the outer edges of this I floated the next day, while on my way back to Roban. The water was still, and as clear as crystal, and we could see distinctly far down into the deep, deep sea. Now, as we come near the reef, its outer wall suddenly rises up, apparently from the unfathomable abyss of the ocean. Among the first forms we notice are the hemispherical Meandrinas, or “brain corals,” named, because, when the soft polyps are removed, small fissure-like depressions are found winding to and fro over its surface, making the raised parts between them closely resemble the convolutions of the brain. Near by are some sending out many branches, like a thick bush, and others with only a few, resembling deer-antlers of abnormal growth. Some, which do not attach themselves to their neighbors, are circular, as we see them from above. Their under surfaces are horizontal and their upper sides slightly convex. When the soft parts are removed, a number of radiating partitions are seen, so that the whole resembles a gigantic mushroom turned upside down; and this family of polyps is hence called Fungidæ. Scattered among the stone corals are many Gorgonias. Some are much like broad sheets of foliage and similar to those known to us as “sea-fans,” which generally come from the tropical waters among our West Indies. Others resemble bundles of rattans; and, when the soft polyps are taken off, a black horn-like axis stick is left. Others, when taken out of the sea and dried, look like limbs cut from a small spruce-tree after it has been dried, and lost hundreds of its small needle-like leaves. Numbers of sponges are also seen, mostly of a spherical form, with many ramifying ducts or tubes. But the most accurate description possible must fail to convey any proper idea of the beauty and richness of these gardens beneath the sea, because, in reading or hearing a description, the various forms that are distinctly seen at a single glance have to be mentioned one after another, and thus they pass along in a series or line before our mental vision, instead of being grouped into circular areas, where the charm consists not so much in the wonderful perfection of a few separate parts, as in the harmonious relations, or, as architects say, the effect of the whole. The pleasure of viewing coral reefs never becomes wearisome, because the grouping is always new. No two places are just alike beneath all the wide sea, and no one can fail to be thrilled with pleasure, when, after a few strong strokes of the oars, his canoe is left to glide on by her own momentum, and the coral gardens pass in review below with a magical effect like a panorama.

At Roban I remained with my men three days, and, as we were nearer the shore, the mosquitoes did not torment us as badly as previously at our hut near the mountains. This proved to be a favorite locality of the castori rajah, or “prince parrot,” which I had already seen in Ceram, and I secured two or three pairs of them here, but I was specially anxious to get a specimen of the malayu, as the Malays strangely name a bird, the Megapodius Forsteni, which is allied to the hen. The common name for these birds is “mound-builders,” from their peculiar habit of scratching together great heaps of sand and sticks, which are frequently twenty or twenty-five feet in diameter, and five feet high. These great hillocks are their nests, and here they deposit their eggs. There is also another species here, the M. Wallacei, which burrows deeply in the sand. The natives brought me one specimen, which they caught while she was crawling up from her hidden nest. I kept her alive for some time, but, after laying an egg more than one-third as large as her whole body, she died. Two eggs of the same dimensions were found at the bottom of the tunnel she had made in the loose sand. This bird usually comes down from the hills in the early part of the evening to deposit its eggs, and then its wailing cry is occasionally heard, but it is so extremely shy, that it is one of the most difficult of all the birds on the island to procure.

I usually shot the birds, and my hunter always skinned them, noting the locality of each, its sex, and as nearly as possible the color of its eyes. The greatest annoyance that troubles the collector of birds in the tropics is caused by the swarms of small ants that fill every conceivable place. If a bird is shot and laid down on the ground for half an hour, it will almost surely be injured so much by these insects that it will not be worth skinning. There is no certain means of keeping them away altogether, except by completely isolating a place with water, which is usually done by putting small basins under each leg of a table, but before one is aware of it, something is sure to be placed so as to touch the table, and thus form a bridge for these omnivorous pests to cross over and continue their work of destruction. As soon as the birds are brought in they are hung up by a thread or piece of small twine. After the skins are taken off, they are thoroughly poisoned with arsenic and camphor, mixed with water to the consistency of cream. Each is then filled with the cotton from the cotton-wood tree, until it has exactly the size of the bird. They are then spread in the sun on a bamboo frame, which is suspended by twines fastened at its corners. After they have become thoroughly dried, they are kept in a tight tin box with large pieces of gum-camphor, and even then they must be looked after every day or two, for they are still liable to be injured by the ants, which are particularly fond of gnawing at the base of the bill and around the eyes. During the rainy season it is extremely difficult to dry the skins properly, there is so little sunshine. No one who has not lived in the tropics can have any idea what a source of constant vexation the ants are. Bread, sugar, and every thing eatable, they are sure to devour, unless it is kept in glass-stoppered bottles; and this is the greater annoyance, because, when a quantity of provisions is lost, as is constantly happening, it is so difficult to procure another supply in every part of the archipelago, except in the immediate vicinity of the few chief cities. They are sure, in some way or other, to find their way into every little nook or corner; and though a table be set with the greatest care, in nine cases out of ten some will be seen running on the white cloth before dinner is over. The floors of the houses occupied by Europeans are usually made of large, square pieces of earthen-ware, and through the cracks that chance to occur in the cement between them ants are sure to appear. It is this, probably, that has given rise to the saying, that “the ants will eat through a brick in a single night.” In all parts of the archipelago it is an established custom either to whitewash the walls inside and outside, or else paint them white, except a narrow strip along the floor, which is covered with a black paint chiefly composed of tar, the only common substance to which these pests show any aversion. All these troubles are caused by the “black ants,” but their ravages do not compare with those caused by the “white ants,” which actually eat up solid wood. The frames of many of the smaller buildings and out-houses in the East are not mortised, but are fastened together with pieces of coir rope, and, of course, when they are eaten off, the whole structure comes to the ground. A large L attached to the controleur’s house, which we have been using for a dining-room, fell down from this cause the other day. Afterward, when I came to Macassar, a fine war-steamer of eight hundred or one thousand tons was pointed out to me, which the white ants had succeeded in establishing themselves in, and several gentlemen, who ought to have known, said that she was so badly eaten by them that she was almost unseaworthy.

On another occasion the commandant and I went to the west end of the bay to hunt deer. We started early, and at eight o’clock were already at the mouth of a small stream, which we ascended for a short distance, and a guide then led us through a strip of woods that lined the banks. Our party in all consisted of more than twenty, half of whom were soldiers, armed with rifles; the others came to start up the game. When we passed out into a level, open prairie, all that had guns were posted about twenty yards apart, in a line parallel to the woods. The others made a long circuit round, and finally entered the forest before us. Then forming into a line, they began to drive toward us, shouting with all their might, and making a din horrid enough to frighten other animals less timid than deer. Packs of dogs, that the natives had brought, were meantime yelping and howling. Soon there was a cracking in the bushes near me, and at the next instant came a female and her fawn, with high, flying leaps through the tall grass. I carried a heavy government rifle, for, unfortunately, my light breech-loading Spencer was not on the island. I aimed at the foremost and fired; she fell, and I ran, shouting out to the others that I had one, when, to my surprise, at the next instant she sprang up again and with one leap disappeared into the dense jungle. That was the only good shot I had that day. Again and again we drove, but when we stood in the tall grass, which was as high as our heads, we could not see our game, and when we perched on stumps, or climbed into the trees, we could not turn round quickly enough to fire suddenly in an unexpected quarter with any certain aim. However, when the horn was sounded for all to assemble, one fine deer and one large wild hog were brought in. Once a large male came out about five hundred yards from where I was standing. At the crack of the rifle he only raised his head high and darted away, almost with the speed of a bullet. His antlers were very large and branching, and the gracefulness and speed with which he flew over the plain made the sight one of the finest I ever enjoyed. The natives are accustomed now, during the dry monsoon, to burn the prairie-lands, partly in order that new, sweet grass may spring up, and that when the deer come out of the forests to eat it they will be fully exposed to the rifles, and partly, as they say, to induce them to come out in order to lick up the ashes. The usual method, besides driving, is to lie in wait near a newly-burnt place by night, when there is moonlight enough to enable the hunters to see every thing within a rifle-shot plainly. After the deer is secured its flesh is cut up into thin slices and smoked, and now, in many places on the hills around the bay of Kayéli, columns of smoke are seen rising every day, where the natives are busy changing venison into dinding, the only kind of meat they have except that of wild boars, which are very abundant on this island, though seldom taken. They are accustomed to come out into the prairie-lands in great droves, and frequently an area of a quarter of an acre is so completely rooted up by them that it looks as if it had been ploughed. They even come by night to the gardens, or cultivated places, at a little distance from the village, and in a short time destroy almost every thing growing in them. One time, seeing a rare bird perched high on the top of a lone tree that stood in the tall grass, I cautiously approached within range and fired, when suddenly there was a rattling of hoofs on the dry ground, caused by the stampede of a large herd within pistol-shot of where we were, but entirely hidden from our view by the thick grass. The natives are usually afraid of them, and the one who was crawling along behind me to pick up the bird fled at the top of his speed when he heard the thundering tread of more than a hundred hoofs, while I stood wondering what sort of beasts had so suddenly sprung out of the earth, and half querying whether my shot, as they fell on the ground, had not been changed into quadrupeds in the same miraculous way that the dragon teeth, sown by Cadmus, were transformed into men. The hog-deer, or babirusa, is also found among these mountains. While I was at Kayéli a young one was caught by some of the natives. During this day’s hunt I came to a wide field of recently elevated coral, about one hundred feet above the sea. The natives, who were surprised that I should stop to look at such common rocks, asserted that the same kind of batu puti, “white stone,” was found among the hills, and I have no doubt that recent coral reefs will be found in the mountainous parts of all the adjacent islands as high up as Governor Arriens has already traced them on Amboina.

While these days were passing by, we all wondered what the authorities were doing to put down the great insurrection in Ceram. All the boats that came brought us only the vaguest tidings, sometimes of entire success, and sometimes of entire failure. We had good cause to be solicitous, for at two or three posts on that island there were only about a dozen Dutch soldiers, and if any numbers of the head-hunting Alfuras made an attack in concert, all would inevitably be butchered. While we were in this state of suspense, six large praus were seen coming in round one of the capes and entering our bay. As the foremost hove to and waited for the others, that all might reach the anchorage together, they appeared to be coming with some evil design, and immediately there was no little bustle in our settlement of nine Europeans, four of whom were ladies. The commandant summoned all his troops into the fort, sergeants were posted in the four corners by the four cannon, the men once more put through the routine of loading, so that if anybody was killed by the discharge of their pieces, which, by the by, were only six-pounders, it might be some one outside of the fort. In short, every thing was made ready to do battle. Meantime the six praus came to anchor off the beach. One of them had the required pass from the Dutch authorities at Ceram, allowing his boat to come to Kayéli, but the others had no such papers, and, according to their own story, had become frightened at the great guns in Ceram, and had also deserted their homes. This seemed to me so probable that I went down on the beach, and, if the authorities had allowed it, I would have taken half a dozen natives in a canoe and boarded every one of the praus myself, and found out what they contained. I was importuned to come back from the shore, but as I had been in battle myself, I did not purpose to get frightened and hide in the fort until I could see some cause for it. After a long consultation, it was decided that I should not be permitted to inspect the praus, and a number of Malays were sent off to carefully examine each of the dangerous vessels. This was done, and the report brought back that there were only three or four natives in each, and that as to weapons, not one of them had even an old flint-lock. Thus ended the alarm, and once more the usual dull routine set in, but this time to be broken by a circumstance as romantic as it was peculiar.

In our little community of nine persons there was a young officer. He was affable, energetic, and withal a good military man for one of his years, but, unfortunately, his mind had been fed on novels until this world appeared to him little more than half real. He was engaged to a young lady, who lived also in our little village. Besides his romantic notions, another of his faults was that he was exceedingly irritable, so much so, that he and the lady’s father fell into a serious dispute, in which he became so enraged that he ordered his servant to saddle his horse forthwith, while he pulled on his long-spurred riding-boots, and stuck a large Colt’s revolver (navy size) into his belt. He now declared his intention to put an end to all his ills with his own hand, and, disregarding the screams of his affianced, and the prayers and entreaties of all, he sprang into the saddle, and, dashing by the house where I was living, disappeared up the road into the forest. The gentleman with whom I was residing saw him as he passed, and at once surmised his intent, but I assured my host that it took a brave man to commit suicide, and in due time we should certainly see our friend safely return. The sequel proved the correctness of my judgment, for in a couple of hours he came back, his horse reeking with perspiration, and he himself as crestfallen as Don Quixote after his most heart-breaking misfortunes. The only one who suffered from this event was the young lady, who had so much confidence in her gallant friend as to foolishly believe he would carry out his desperate resolve to the bitter end.