Travels in the East Indian archipelago

by Albert S. Bickmore

April 30th.—At 6 A. M. commenced the last stage of my journey on horseback. My course now was from Tebing Tingi, on the Musi, in a southeasterly direction, to Lahat, the head of navigation on the Limatang. The distance between these two places is about forty paals, considerably farther than it would be from Tebing Tingi down the Musi to the head of navigation on that river; but I prefer to take this route, in order to learn something of the localities of coal on the Limatang and its branches, and of the unexplored Pasuma country. We crossed the Musi on a raft, and at once the road took us into a forest, which continued with little interruption all the way to Bunga Mas, a distance of twenty-four paals. Most of this forest rises out of a dense undergrowth, in which the creeping stems and prickly leaves of rattans were seen. These are various species of Calamus, a genus of palms that has small, reed-like, trailing stems, which are in strange contrast to the erect and rigid trunks of the cocoa-nut, the areca, the palmetto, and other palms. It seems paradoxical to call this a palm, and the high, rigid bamboo a species of grass. When they are growing, the stem is sheathed in the bases of so many leaves that it is half an inch in diameter. When these are stripped off, a smooth, reed-like stem of a straw-color is found within, which becomes yellow as it dries. The first half-mile of the road we travelled to-day was completely ploughed up by elephants which passed along two days ago during a heavy rain. The piles of their excrements were so numerous that it seems they use it as a stall. Every few moments we came upon their tracks. In one place they had completely brushed away the bridge over a small stream, where they went down to ford it; for, though they always try to avail themselves of the cleared road when they travel to and fro among these forests, they are too sagacious to trust themselves on the frail bridges.

In the afternoon, the small boughs which they had lately broken off became more numerous as we advanced, and their leaves were of a livelier green. We were evidently near a herd, for leaves wilt in a short time under this tropical sun. Soon after, we came into a thicker part of the forest, where many tall trees threw out high, overarching branches, which effectually shielded us from the scorching sun, while the dry leaves they had shed quite covered the road.

Several natives had joined us, for they always travel in company through fear of the tigers. While we were passing through the dark wood, suddenly a heavy crashing began in the thick jungle about twenty paces from where I was riding. A native, who was walking beside my horse with my rifle capped and cocked, handed it to me in an instant, but the jungle was so thick that it was impossible to see any thing, and I did not propose to fire until I could see the forehead of my game. All set up a loud, prolonged yell, and the beast slowly retreated, and allowed us to proceed unmolested. The natives are not afraid of whole herds of elephants, but they dislike to come near a single one. The larger and stronger males sometimes drive off all their weaker rivals, which are apt to wreak their vengeance on any one they chance to meet. Beyond this was a more open country, and in the road were scattered many small trees that had been torn up by a herd, apparently this very morning.

Although they are so abundant here in Sumatra, there are none found in Java. They occur in large numbers on the Malay Peninsula, and there is good reason to suppose they exist in the wild state in the northern parts of Borneo. This is regarded as distinct from the Asiatic and African species, and has been named Elephas Sumatrensis.

Three paals before we came to Bunga Mas, a heavy rain set in and continued until we reached that place. Our road crossed a number of streams that had their sources on the flanks of the mountains on our right, and in a short time their torrents were so swollen that my horse could scarcely ford them. Bunga Mas is a dusun, or village, on a cliff by a small river which flows toward the north. Near the village is a stockade fort, where we arrived at half-past six. The captain gave me comfortable quarters, and I was truly thankful to escape the storm and the tigers without, and to rest after more than twelve hours in the saddle.

This evening the captain has shown me the skin of a large tiger, which, a short time since, killed three natives in four nights at this place. The village is surrounded by a stockade to keep out these ravenous beasts, and the gate is guarded at night by a native armed with a musket. One evening this tiger stole up behind the guard, sprang upon him, and, as a native said who chanced to see it, killed him instantly with a blow of her paw on the back of his neck. She then caught him up and ran away with him. The next day the body was found partly eaten, and was buried very deeply to keep it out of her reach. The second evening she seized and carried off a native who was bathing in the stream at the foot of the cliff. The captain now found he must try to destroy her, and therefore loaded a musket with a very heavy charge of powder and two bullets. The gun was then lashed firmly to a tree, and a large piece of fresh meat was fastened to the muzzle, so that when she attempted to take it away she would discharge the piece, and receive both bullets. The next morning they found a piece of her tongue on the ground near the muzzle of the gun, and the same trap was set again; but the next night she came back and took away a second man on guard at the gate of the dusun. The captain now started with a corporal and eight men, determined to hunt her down. They tracked her to a place filled with tall grass, and closing round that, slowly advanced, until two or three of them heard a growl, when they all fired and killed her instantly. It proved to be a female, and she had evidently been so daring for the purpose of procuring food for her young.

May 1st.—The rain continued through the night, and only cleared away at daylight. In two hours I started, though I found myself ill from such continued exertion and exposure to a burning sun and drenching rains, and, more than all, from drinking so many different kinds of water in a single day. I was accompanied by a soldier who was one of the eight who went out to hunt the tiger that killed so many natives in such a short time. He repeated to me all the details of the whole matter, and assured me that a piece of the brute’s tongue was found on the ground just as the captain said, and that, when they had secured her, they found that a part of her tongue was gone.

We had not travelled more than half a mile before we came upon the tracks of two tigers, a large one and a small one, probably a female and her young, which had passed along the road in the same way we were going. The perfect impressions left by their feet showed they had walked along that road since the rain had ceased, and therefore not more than two hours before us, and possibly not more than ten minutes. We expected to see them at almost every turn in the road, and we all kept together and proceeded with the greatest caution till the sun was high and it was again scorching hot. At such times these dangerous beasts always retreat into the cool jungle.

For eight paals from Bunga Mas the road was more hilly than it was yesterday. In many places the sides of the little valley between the ridges were so steep that steps were made in the slippery clay for the natives, who always travel on foot. Seven paals out, we had a fine view of the Pasuma country. It is a plateau which spreads out to the southeast and east from the feet of the great Dempo, the highest and most magnificent mountain in all this region. The lower part of this volcano appeared in all its details, but thick clouds unfortunately concealed its summit. Considerable quantities of opaque gases are said to have poured out of its crater, but it does not appear to have undergone any great eruption since the Dutch established themselves in this region. It is the most southern and eastern of the many active volcanoes on this island. Like the Mérapi in the Padang plateau, the Dempo does not rise in the Barizan chain nor in one parallel to it, but in a transverse range. Here there is no high chain parallel to the Barizan, as there is at Kopaiyong, where the Musi takes its rise, and also north of Mount Ulu Musi continuously through the Korinchi country all the way to the Batta Lands. Another and a longer transverse elevation appears in the chain which forms the boundary between this residency of Palembang and that of Lampong, and which is the water-shed, extending in a northeasterly direction from Lake Ranau to the Java Sea. The height of Mount Dempo has been variously estimated at from ten thousand to twelve thousand feet, but I judge that it is not higher than the Mérapi, and that its summit therefore is not more than nine thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea.