Travels in the East Indian archipelago

by Albert S. Bickmore

At noon we came to the famous suspension bridge of rattan, of which I had been hearing the most frightful accounts for the last hundred miles. At once I took off my shoes to avoid slipping, and hastened down the airy, oscillating way, without allowing myself to look down and become giddy at the fearful depth beneath me. At the middle it rests on the tops of tall trees, which grow up from a small island in the torrent far below. It has been constructed by first stretching across three large rattans. On them narrow strips of boards are placed transversely, and fastened at each end by strips of common rattan. Other rattans, starting from the ground at a little distance back of the bank, pass above the branches of high camphor-trees that grow on the edge of the chasm in which the torrent flows. Descending from these branches in a sharp curve, they rise again steeply at the farther end of the bridge. From these rattans vertical lines are fastened to the rattans below them, exactly as in our suspension bridges, and thus all parts are made to aid in supporting the weight. At each bank the bridge is some eight feet wide, but it narrows toward the middle until it is only two feet, where it vibrates the most. I had been directed to go over, if possible, at a hurried walk, and thus break up the oscillating motion, and particularly cautioned against seizing the side of the bridge, lest it might swing to the opposite side and throw me off into the abyss beneath. When I had gone half-way across the first span I found that one of the cross-boards, on which I was just in the act of placing my foot, had become loose and slipped over to one side, so that, if I had stepped as I had intended, I should have put my foot through, if indeed I had not fallen headlong and been dashed on the rocks in the torrent more than a hundred feet beneath me. I therefore stopped instantly, and allowed myself to swing with the bridge until it came to a state of rest, and then again went on slowly, and safely reached the opposite bank. My companions, who stood on the bank behind me, became greatly alarmed when they saw me stop in the midst of the long span, and were sure that I had either become giddy, or was frightened, and that, in either case, I would grasp hold of the side of the bridge contrary to their express orders.

HANGING BRIDGE OF BAMBOO; SUMATRA.

The difficulty in crossing this bridge, which is as flexible as Manilla rope, is so great, not only because it oscillates to the right and left, but because there is a vertical motion, and its whole floor, instead of moving in one piece, is continually rolling in a series of waves. An official, who had taken very careful measurements of it in order to make an estimate of the cost of erecting a true bridge, for this airy way does not deserve such a substantial name, gave me the following figures: total length, 374 feet; height of the middle and lowest part of the first span above the torrent, 108 feet; height of the middle and lowest part of the second span, 137.5 feet. The inspector then came over safely, and we walked a short distance to a neighboring village while the natives were taking our carriage to pieces and bringing them over one at a time.

Although I am not one of those who allow themselves to be constantly tortured by presentiments and omens, I could not rid myself of an impression that some accident was going to happen to those who were bringing over the carriage, and went back to see for myself what they were doing. The wheels and top were over, and six natives were bringing the body, which, though quite large, was very light. They had already crossed the long span, and were coming on to the short one. “Is it possible,” I said to myself, “that such a slight structure can hold such a weight at such a great leverage? We shall soon see, for they are rapidly coming to the middle of the second span.” At the next instant there was a loud, sharp crack, like the report of a pistol. One of the large rattans that went over the high branches of the camphor-trees and supported the sides, had parted at one of its joints. The officer who had charge of the bridge, and was standing by my side, seized me by the shoulder in his fright. As soon as the rattan on one side broke, the bridge gave a fearful lurch in the opposite direction, but the natives all knew they must keep perfectly quiet and allow themselves to swing, and, finally, when it had become still, they came on carefully and safely reached the bank. The officer and I both believed that the moment one of the rattans broke, the others, having of course to support a much greater weight, would also break, and that we should hear a few more similar crackings, and see all the natives fall headlong down nearly one hundred and forty feet into the boiling torrent beneath, which is so rapid that only a few days ago a buffalo, that was standing in the side of the stream above the bridge, lost his footing and was carried down without being able to reach either bank.

The carriage was soon put together again, and a good number of natives detailed to haul us to the next village, and away we dashed along, and that fearful place was soon hidden from our view. From this point to Lumut our road extended over a hilly, undulating country, in which we crossed a number of small streams on rafts of bamboo.

Lumut we found to be only an opziener’s station. A Malay teacher is also employed here by the government, but the general appearance of the people has changed little since they were accustomed to enjoy their cannibal feasts, and this is true of all the natives we have seen this side of Padang Sidempuan.

Most of the rajahs we have seen to-day have worn garments profusely ornamented with gold. The headdress of each usually consisted of a short turban so wound around the head that the two ends hung down in front, and to these were fastened small, thin pieces of gold of a diamond or circular form. They also wear short jackets which are usually trimmed with a broad band of gold, though a few had silver instead. At the waist is worn a belt on which is worn in front a large diamond-shaped ornament four or five inches long, made of thin gold and ornamented with flowers and scrolls. When at Rau, we visited a native who was famous for his skill in manufacturing such golden ornaments. The leaves which he made on them were remarkably well-proportioned, and the details very correctly wrought in; and we admired his skill the more when he came to show us his tools, which consisted of a flat stone for an anvil, a hammer, and two or three large, blunt awls. Having beaten the gold out into thin sheets of the desired form, he made the leaves rise in relief by forming a corresponding groove on the opposite or inner side. In other cases he had formed the gold into small wire, which was bent into helices for ornaments to be placed on the front of such articles as buttons. At Fort de Kock this business is carried on so extensively as to form an important branch of the internal trade. The metal generally used there is silver, the coin imported by the Dutch, for we have no reason to suppose that that metal is found on this island. They make models of their houses, of leaves, flowers, and all the principal fruits, which are sent to Padang, where they find a ready demand among the foreigners, who send them as presents to their friends in Europe.

We have just been honored by a call from the two rajahs of this little village of Lumut. The bands of gold on their jackets were two inches broad—an indication that the precious metal must be obtained in all this region in very considerable quantities. Ever since entering the southern end of the valley of Mandéling, I have been repeatedly informed that the natives obtained gold by washing in their vicinity. At Fort Elout the Resident showed me a nugget, as large as a pigeon’s egg, which a native had just found in a neighboring stream where they had certainly been at work for centuries. Washing seems to be almost the only mode adopted by the natives for obtaining gold, and I heard of only one place where they have ever attempted to take it from the rock. That place is in the mountains west of Rau.

March 7th.—Early this morning continued on for Siboga, with the satisfactory feeling that this day would be the last of our long and difficult journey. The road for ten miles led through a deep forest of gigantic camphor-trees, Dryobalanops camphora, the tall, straight trunks of which rose up like lofty columns. From their high branches hung down hundreds of the cord-like roots of a parasite. The “camphor-oil” is obtained from these trees by making a small cavity in the trunk near the ground, and the fluid dripping into this cavity is the “oil.” After a tree has been dead for a long time, it is cut down and split up, and layers of pure camphor are found crystallized in thin plates in the fissures, where the wood in dying has slightly split open. This is known as “camphor barus,” from Barus, a village on the coast a short distance to the north, because such crystallized camphor was formerly exported from that place. The Chinese and Japanese, who suppose it possesses the most extravagant healing properties, pay enormous prices for it, while, except that it is somewhat purer, it is probably not any better than that they make themselves by distillation from the wood of the Cinnamon camphora. The camphor-tree is not only valuable for the camphor it yields, but also for its timber, which is very straight and free from knots and other imperfections. This is a favorite region for tigers, and I have seen one or more skins at the house of each official. A short time since, an elephant came down here from the interior, but the natives failed to secure so valuable a prize. Herds of them are said to frequently appear in the Silindong plateau. The tusks of one taken here lately were sold for one thousand guilders (four hundred Mexican dollars). On our way we passed eight or ten houses of Battas, who had come down from the mountains. They were placed on posts like those we have been seeing; but the gable-ends, instead of being perpendicular, slant outward, so that the ridge-pole, which comes up high at each end, is much longer than the floor. Over a number of these streams we found long suspension bridges, but none were high as that over the Batang Taroh. Ascending to the crest of a mountain-range, some six or eight hundred feet in height, we found before us a grand view of the high mountains, stretching in a semicircle around the bay of Tapanuli; of the low land at their feet, and of a part of the bay itself. A steep, zigzag way took us down nearly to the level of the sea, and led us over the low land to the village of Siboga, a small Dutch settlement and military station at the head of the bay.