On the 10th we made sail, and proceeded a little further along the coast to Ganges Harbour, anchoring just within its eastern point. If the chart is correct, changes have taken place on the coast since the last survey. We lay opposite a small stretch of flat land, and where the plan gives the coast-line nearly straight, a little bay now exists, where stand stumps of dead trees, about which the low tides expose a broad expanse of black mud.
After wading through the mud to reach the shore, we found that much of the low-lying ground was merely swamp. Part however, was covered with tall, open jungle, in which were numbers of pigeon and parrots. There were no monkeys, but tupais (Tupaia nicobarica) were plentiful. These appear to be entirely arboreal in habits, and are quite as active as squirrels in running along branches, or climbing about amongst smaller twigs in search of insects. Their cry is a sort of trilling squeak, which is easily confounded with the call of a bird.
In crossing to the further side we found plentiful traces of Shom Peṅ—a faint path, a ruined hut, heaps of shells, and split seed-cases of the Barringtonia speciosa. The edge of the land was rapidly being eroded, and many tall casuarina trees, with roots undermined by the water, lying prostrate in the sea. At either end, this disappearing beach was hemmed in by rising ground and rocks, which at its eastern termination contained a little stream and basin of good water.
On the 12th we rowed about the shores of the harbour, landing every now and then to search for the aborigines. The only signs of man's presence discovered, however, were rows of stakes set up across the creeks in the mangroves. One of these rows we utilised to hang our own net on, and obtained there such an abundant catch of small fish that we returned the greater part to the sea.
The shore-line is much more indented than the outline given on the chart, and in the shallow water and mud of a little bay, rows of tree trunks still stood, two or three hundred yards from the land. This subsidence, however, is local in its occurrence, for everywhere else in the Archipelago signs of elevation are markedly present, and it is to be attributed to seismic agency—earthquakes having several times been experienced in the group—and not to a general depression of the land.
The following day we went still farther afield, and crossed the harbour to a beach where stood a grove of coconut trees and a small hut. The trees were without fruit, and the house, though deserted, contained a number of bundles of split rattan, such as a small section of the Shom Peṅ trade in with the coast people. The plantation was surrounded by hilly country, covered with tall, open jungle: birds were scarce, and a hawk and a megapode were all we obtained in the way of feathered booty; but, immediately on landing, Abbott caught sight of a couple of pigs, and knocked over the boar with a bullet. Though very similar to the Andamanese pig in size and appearance, it had patches of white on the feet. From it a new species has been described, under the name of Sus nicobaricus.
While rowing back to the Terrapin, we were overtaken by a blinding squall of wind and rain, which half-filled the boat and made the men (who sat with their feet on the thwarts) very uneasy, lest they should be polluted by contact with the blood and water that swished about in the bottom.
Next day we extended our search still farther, and ascended a little river, to which the name of "Jubilee" has been given by the surveyors. We rowed up several arms of this stream that wound to and fro in the mangroves, but only found a small fishing weir constructed of rattans. The muddy shores swarmed with water-birds—herons, whimbrel, redshanks, and others—and we surprised a monstrous crocodile, little less than 20 feet long, who rushed into the stream long before our guns were ready. Returning to the mouth, we landed and walked for a couple of miles along the beach; but the shore was everywhere covered with dense tangled scrub, behind which lay the swamps of the river.
On the last day of our stay, a junk arrived from Dring, where it had taken in a cargo of coconuts. It was handled very clumsily, and nearly ran on the reef before the anchor was down, eventually having to make sail again and beat up to a more suitable place. Considering the happy-go-lucky manner in which these junks are navigated, it must be admitted that they have good fortune—they have a compass, indeed, but all those we met were totally unprovided with charts.
Our mornings in this place were spent in searching for Shom Peṅ; the afternoons were passed in adding to the collections. The traps produced a couple of rats only; but we obtained several specimens of the storkbilled kingfisher, which was common about the shores of the bay. Several turtle were observed on the sea, but the harpoon never being at hand when requisite, they always escaped unmolested.