April 20th.—Rode this morning from Taba Pananjong over the Barizan or Coast Range, which here, as elsewhere, is generally higher than the ranges parallel to it on the east, and therefore forms the water-shed between the east and west coasts. The road had been well built, but was extremely muddy and badly washed away in some places by the heavy rains which have lately occurred in this vicinity. It is, however, sufficiently good for the natives to use their padatis, or carts drawn by buffaloes, but most of the men I met were carrying their produce to market on their backs.
All the mountains are covered with a most dense forest, but the low lands which spread from their bases to the sea appear quite unfertile, especially when compared with the low lands of Java. The morning air was still and clear, and troops of large black monkeys made the valleys and ravines continually resound with their loud trumpeting. From the top of the pass, which is from two thousand five hundred to three thousand feet in height, a magnificent view is obtained, to the southwest, of the low lands extending to Bencoolen, and also of Pulo Tikus in the distance, and the heavy surf breaking on its coral reefs and sparkling brightly in the sunshine. On the opposite or interior side of the chain was spread out before me the lovely and highly fertile valley of the River Musi, which takes its rise a little farther to the north. In the midst of this valley was the kampong and Dutch post Kopaiyong. Beyond the valley rose an active volcano, Mount Ulu Musi, with three peaks. The largest and the oldest was quiet, and beyond it was a second and somewhat smaller cone, evidently of a more recent origin than the former, but also inactive. Beyond this cone was a third, yet smaller, from the top of which great quantities of steam and other gases were ascending in dense volumes.
From this pass our descent was as rapid as our ascent had been on the coast side, until we came down to the banks of the Musi, and the valley in which the village of Kopaiyong is situated. The height of this plateau above the sea is from fifteen to eighteen hundred feet. It is a complete analogue of the plateau about the lake of Sinkara, and all the others between the Barizan and its parallel chains to the northward. Its soil is a fine, black loam. Its chief products are tobacco and coffee, which both thrive here very well. This is considered, and no doubt rightly, a very healthy place. There are no “wet or dry seasons,” as in Java, but showers occur here every few days, generally in the afternoon. Although the soil and climate of this valley are so favorable for the development of civilization, yet the natives in all this region, until a few years ago, only clothed themselves with the bark of trees. This plateau has lacked, however, one inducement toward promoting industry and civilization which that of Menangkabau possesses, and that is gold. In the coast region, the houses of the natives have high, sharp roofs, and are covered with atap, but here they are larger and lower; and the roofs are nearly flat, and covered with bamboos split into halves and placed side by side, with the concave side upward. Over the edges of these are placed other pieces of bamboo, with the concave side downward. This is the only place in the archipelago where I have seen this simple and easy mode of making a roof.
April 24th.—Finding myself very ill from over-exertion during the past two days, and that the next two days’ journeys must be long and fatiguing, I rest here and enjoy the cool, refreshing air of Kopaiyong for a day. The controleur informs me that the volcanic cone northeast of us was formed during an eruption which took place only a year ago, and that, for some time previous to the eruption, heavy earthquakes occurred here very frequently; but since the gases that were pent up beneath the mountain have found a vent, only one earthquake has been experienced, and that was very slight. This is the most active volcano I have seen. A great quantity of white gas is now rising most grandly. At one moment it appears like a great sheaf, and at the next instant slowly changes into a perpendicular column, and this again becomes an immense inverted cone, which seems supported in the sky by resting its apex on the summit of the volcano beneath it. The whole amount of trade at this place in a year amounts to one hundred thousand guilders (forty thousand dollars). The traders are Chinamen, Arabs, and a few Dutchmen. They obtain from the natives coffee and tobacco, and give them in return cotton goods, knives, and various kinds of trinkets. The population of this region appears to be only a small fraction of what it is on the Padang plateau; if it were as large and industrious, the upper valley of the Musi would soon be transformed into one great garden, and Bencoolen, to which its products must be taken to be shipped abroad, would immediately become a port of the first importance. I had seriously contemplated undertaking the journey from Solok to this place, and if it had not been necessary for me to return to Padang, I should have attempted it, notwithstanding it would have been necessary to have travelled the whole distance on foot, and to have met constant hinderances and annoyances from the natives, who are extremely jealous of all foreigners. The distance from Solok, in a straight line, is nearly two hundred geographical miles, but by the zigzag and circuitous route which I would have been obliged to take, it would have been nearly three hundred.
The house of the controleur at this place is covered with an atap of bamboo splints, made in the same way as the common atap of palm-leaves, but it is much neater, and said to be far more durable.
April 25th.—As there are no white people at the place where I am to lodge to-night, the controleur was so kind as to send a servant yesterday with an ample supply of eatables, and orders to the rajahs on the way to receive me kindly when I reached their respective villages.
At 6 A. M. started with a guide and a coolie for Kaban Agong, a distance of nine paals in a southeasterly direction, along the Musi, which, in this part of its course, is only a small stream with slight falls at short distances. The valley south of Kopaiyong may be quite wide, but we soon passed into such a dense jungle that I was unable to obtain any view of the mountains on either hand. Kaban Agong is a small kampong of twenty or twenty-five houses, and, except the two or three occasionally seen near each other in the cleared places, or ladangs, the whole country is an unbroken wilderness.
The houses of the village were quite regularly arranged in two rows, and in the middle of the street between them is a small circular house, with open sides, and seats around it for the coolies, who are travelling to and fro, to stop and rest under a shelter from the sunshine. Here the rajah received me, and brought such fruits as his people raised. The coolie, who marched beside my horse, carried my Spencer’s breech-loader, which I had been careful to have ready loaded and capped. It caused the natives to manifest the greatest respect for us, especially when my servants declared that I needed only to put it to my shoulder, pull the trigger, and there would be a constant stream of bullets. From Kaban Agong to Tanjong Agong (eight paals) we passed over a more open and hilly country. The road here diverged from the left bank of the Musi, and took a more easterly course. Here more sawas appeared, but the people are in great poverty. Many of the hills are covered with the common rank prairie-grass, which we saw covering large areas in the northwest part of the Mandéling Valley, and in many other places.
In such open prairies the sun poured down a most scorching heat, and even my Malay attendants complained bitterly; indeed, I find I can bear such excessive heat better than they. From the tops of the low hills I enjoyed fine views of the Barizan or coast chain. The outline of many of its peaks shows that they were formerly eruptive cones, but now they are more or less washed down or changed in form by rains and streams. As we came near this village, Tanjong Agong, the road was filled with the tracks and excrements of a herd of elephants that passed this way yesterday or the day before. Two days ago two of these beasts came into the sawas, near this place, and the natives succeeded in shooting one. Tanjong Agong is a small village, of only eighteen or twenty small houses, each of which is placed on posts six or eight feet high. A ladder leads up to a landing, which is enclosed by a fence and a gate, to prevent the tigers from entering their houses. The natives keep hens, and would have dogs, but they are all destroyed by the tigers. These ravenous beasts infest the whole region in such numbers, and are so daring, that the rajah, who can speak Malay very well, assures me that, during last year, five of the people of this little village were torn to pieces by them while working in the sawas, or while travelling to the neighboring kampongs. No native here ever thinks of going even the shortest distance by night, except when sent on the most urgent business; and it is chiefly for this reason that I always commence my day’s journey so early.
The house in which I lodge is built of bamboo, and surrounded with a paling of sharpened stakes, which also include the stable. It has lately been built by order of the Dutch Government for the accommodation of any official or other foreigner travelling in this country. Before the paling was completed, the controleur of the district visited this place, and put his horse into the stable. At midnight he heard a loud howling and neighing, and the natives shouting out to each other to come with their arms. A tiger had come out of the adjoining forest, and had sprung upon his horse from behind, and the natives were attacking him with their lances. He lost his horse, but had the privilege of carrying away the tiger’s skin. Those who complain of the scarcity of game ought to come here. It is not by any means inaccessible, and both tigers and elephants are exceedingly abundant.