April 3d.—At 6 A. M. went with the controleur and rajah, and about forty natives, to a large cave west of Bua, in the limestone range that forms the western boundary of the valley. Coming to a small stream that flows out of this chain, we followed its course upward, until we found it issuing from beneath a high arch that opened into a large cavern. Here the strata of the limestone were more distinct than I have seen elsewhere. They have a dip of about 20° west, their strike being northwest and southeast, the general direction of the chain. Immediately within the arch the roof of the cave rose into a dome, apparently more than one hundred feet high at the centre. Flocks of swallows had made this their building-place, and, disturbed by the smoke of our torches, they made the cavern resound with their sharp chirping. On the walls were many stalactites that closely resembled the luxuriant orchids and parasites of tropical forests, as if Nature were here reproducing in stone the wonders of the vegetable kingdom. After crossing the stream two or three times we came to the end of this grand hall, and climbed up what appeared to be a waterfall, but was, in reality, solid stone. The water, flowing over the steep ledge of limestone, had in time deposited over its rough edges an incrustation, which, of course, took exactly the form of the running water that made it.
Having reached the top of this petrified fall, we passed on our hands and knees through a small hole, and found ourselves in another large hall of an elliptical form. At the farther end was a small rivulet gurgling its way among the large rocks that covered the floor of the cave. I had been told that this water was so hot that a man could not hold his hand in it; but, on trying it with the thermometer, I found the mercury only rose to 92° Fahrenheit, not quite up to blood-heat (98°). It abounded, however, in small fish about four inches long, several of which the natives caught with their hands. They all had eyes that were apparently well formed, though this place seemed to us absolutely cut off from daylight.
Returning to the outer cave, we proceeded a short way by wading in the bed of the stream, but the cavern now diminished into an irregular tunnel, and the water that flowed through it was too deep for us to go on in safety, and we were therefore obliged to return. The controleur informed me that one of his predecessors had gone on and come out again in the plain near Fort Van der Capellen, so that the cave is really a tunnel, which passes completely through the whole chain; and the distance from its mouth at this place to the opening at its opposite end must be at least five miles in an air line. While the natives were in the water, and each held a blazing torch, I ordered them to range themselves a few feet apart in a long line. The light reflected from the changing surface of the flowing stream beneath, and the wide irregular rocks and stalactites above, and the dark half-naked bodies of the natives themselves, made it appear as if I had come into the abode of evil demons; and this delusion became complete when one shouted, and the rest joining in prolonged their cry into a wild yell that echoed and reëchoed again and again, coming back to us like the answering, remorseful shriek of hundreds of evil spirits that were imprisoned forever deep within the bowels of the mountain.
In the inner part of the larger cave I was directed to look up in a certain direction, when soon a long, narrow band of yellow light gleamed from an opening, and, darting into the cave, partially lighted up some of the long stalactites that hung from the roof. Then came two bright flames waving to and fro, which showed me the forms of two natives who had climbed up some other chamber, and had come out through an aperture far above us into the apartment where we were standing.
The Resident was travelling to inspect the coffee-gardens, and would go back up the valley to Suka Rajah, the “Rajah’s Delight,” a large coffee-garden in the ravine that leads up into the old crater of the Sago. I therefore hired coolies to haul my bendy over the mountain to Fort Van der Capellen, and thence to Padang Panjang, while I accompanied the Resident and controleur on horseback. After we had rested awhile at a small summer-house, I continued on foot up the ravine as far as coffee-trees are planted, a coolie from the valley following me, and continually begging me to return, for fear we might be attacked by a tiger. I told him to go back and let me proceed alone; but we were already so far away that he did not dare to leave me. The whole interior of this crater is covered with a dense forest, in which there are many trees, showing that it has constantly remained inactive for many years, and this is corroborated by what we know of the history of this part of Menangkabau; for, when “the volcano” is spoken of, it is probable that the Mérapi is meant, and not the Sago, on the one side, nor the Singalang on the other.
As I could not reach to the bottom of the crater by following up the ravine, I determined to try to ascend one of the ridges on its sides, and possibly look down into it from an elevated point. That part of the steep mountain-side was covered with tall grass, and the “tufa,” or red clay, formed by the decomposition of the volcanic rock, ejected from this vent, was very slippery after the recent shower. Yet, by grasping the grass and small shrubbery, I made my way up nearly to the rim of the crater, but did not get the unobstructed view I wished. To obtain this, it is necessary to ascend the mountain on the north side. I was, however, far more than repaid for my labor, by the magnificent landscape spread out before me to the south and southeast. At my feet began the Bua Valley, which, at a distance of ten or twelve miles, expanded into a plain bordered on the west by the high mountains of the Barizan chain, and on the east by that of the Padang Lawas, which yet farther on curved round to the southwest and united with the Barizan in the gigantic peak of Mount Talang. Winding to and fro down the Bua Valley, was occasionally seen the silver surface of the Sinamu, and beside that and the other streams were many broad overflowed sawas, which gave the valleys the appearance of abounding with hundreds of little lakes. This is the grandest and most comprehensive view I have enjoyed in Sumatra, and this spot is well named “The Rajah’s Delight.” At an elevation of about four thousand five hundred feet we found it very chilly by night, not so much from the difference of temperature, as indicated by the thermometer, as on account of a strong wind and a thick mist that enveloped us. This coffee-garden is considered the best in this region; but the Resident informs me that there are one or two at the same, or a somewhat greater elevation, on the Mérapi, which are finer. The large crops raised here are probably due to the elevation and to the soil, which has been formed from decomposing volcanic rock, and enriched by the vegetable mould that has accumulated for centuries.
April 4th.—Continued on horseback along the southern flanks of Mount Sago to its western side, when we came to the head of a valley bounded by steep acclivities. A thick mist unfortunately concealed the view from this point, the finest, it is said, in the whole region. A steep, zigzag path brought us down to a small stream, and, ten miles in a southwesterly direction, we came to the Resident’s house at Fort Van der Capellen. The more direct and frequented road between Paya Kombo and this place lies between Mount Sago and Mount Mérapi; and those two great elevations are so separate that Tangjong Allam, the highest point on the road, is only three thousand four hundred feet, about two hundred feet above Fort de Kock. Four miles beyond, we passed through a village where there is a waringin-tree of enormous dimensions. Its trunk is so large that I found it required eight natives to embrace it by joining hands! It is not, however, a single, compact trunk, like that of a pine, but is composed of an irregular bundle of them bound together. Besides this, there are three other great trunks which support the larger limbs, this species of Ficus being very closely allied to the banyan-tree of India.
Two miles west of this place, on the acclivity of one of the limestone ranges already described, lies Pagaruyong, now a small kampong, but in ancient times one of the capitals of the great Malay kingdom of Menangkabau. Its early history only comes down to us in obscure legends. One is that Noah and his “forty companions” in the ark discovered dry land at Lankapura, near the present city of Palembang, by seeing a bird which had escaped from their vessel alight at that place. From that spot two brothers, Papati-si-batang (a name of Sanscrit origin), and Kayi Tumangung (a name of Javanese origin), who were included in the forty that had escaped the deluge, came to a mountain named Siguntang-guntang, which was described as dividing Palembang from Jambi, and thence to Priangan, a word in Javanese signifying “the land of wood-spirits,” or fairies, and at present the name of a kampong on the road from this place to Padang Panjang, and situated on the flanks of the Mérapi, near the wooded region. There is little doubt that this kampong is the same as the ancient one of the same name, for that was described as being “near the great volcano.”
Another legend represents the founder of the Menangkabau empire to have been Sang Sapurba (a name compounded of both Sanscrit and Javanese words), who is also said to have come from Palembang, which we know was a Javanese colony. The Javanese and Sanscrit origins of these names at once suggest the probability that a larger part of the civilization which rendered this empire so superior to all others in Sumatra, was not indigenous, but introduced from Java, and at a period subsequent to the introduction into that island of Hinduism and its accompanying Sanscrit names from India. The names of many of the most remarkable mountains and localities in this region are also found to be of similar origin, and greatly strengthen this probability. The word Menangkabau itself signifies in Javanese “the victory of the buffalo;” and, as it has been one of the favorite sports of the Javanese from time immemorial to make buffaloes fight with tigers, we may presume this locality acquired its name from its being the frequent scene of such a bloody pastime.
When Europeans first arrived on the northern coast of the island, in 1509, this empire was evidently in its decline; and though the rajahs of Achin, Pedir, and Pasé, acknowledged the sultan of this country as their superior, they only paid him a small tribute, and were really independent princes. The empire at that time included on the east coast the area between the rivers of Palembang and Siak, and on the west coast from Manjuta, near Indrapura, as far north as Singkel, at the mouth of the river of that name, which is the outlet of the great Lake Aik Däu, in the Batta Lands.[55] Afterward the Rajah of Achin, whose daughter the sultan had married and slighted, took possession of the west coast, as far south as Bencoolen. In 1613 his successor claimed no farther south than Padang, and he actually governed no place south of Barus.