We have seen how the plantation rubber industry was developed through a sound belief that the world’s demand for rubber would exceed forest supplies. So great has been the development, that to-day some people are prophesying all manner of catastrophes on the ground that the supply will soon be exceeding the demand. On the other hand, there are the optimists, who are well in the majority; they have their reasons for looking on the bright side, and from what we know of the rubber industry we find ourselves strongly in sympathy with their arguments. They believe that under the renewal of peace conditions the world’s demand for rubber will increase by even bigger proportions than it did under war conditions. They admit that the call on rubber for active service was only a temporary stimulus to the industry, but point out that this artificial spur checked the natural growth of the industry by interrupting the adoption of rubber in civil life. Before the war, rubber was gaining ground with striking rapidity as the popular material for a wide variety of necessities and luxuries; now that the war is over, rubber has an opportunity of continuing its civil career with phenomenal success, serving as an indispensable material for reconstruction activities and for the business and pleasure facilities of a progressive civilization. Motor traffic is bound to increase, particularly in our less-developed and enterprising colonies, where the making of roads suitable for motor transport is recognized as a primary essential to the development of natural wealth, such as agricultural possibilities and mineral deposits; up will go the demand for tyres, and this is but one of the many ways in which already known uses for rubber should make a bigger draw on the output of the raw material. It is well within the bounds of possibilities that uses which have already successfully passed the experimental stage may pass into the sphere of practical life—for instance, rubber roadways and rubber tennis-courts. And it is more than likely that many new uses for rubber will be discovered.
Certainly, the outlook reveals chances of catastrophes—the price of raw rubber has fallen perilously near to the lowest margin at which Brazil can compete with the plantation product, but Brazil is making some strenuous efforts to reduce the cost price of obtaining forest supplies; on the other hand, disease is threatening the trees on the Eastern plantations, but it has been scientifically treated from the outset of its appearance, and no trouble and expense are being spared to combat it. Still, whilst we do not shut our eyes to the possibilities of disaster, we seem to see bright prospects predominating, and to such an extent that we should not be surprised to find ourselves, at no very distant date, experiencing another though milder Rubber Boom.
[CHAPTER XV]
MAKING A RUBBER PLANTATION
We have come out to the East, to see for ourselves how rubber is cultivated. And we have chosen to spend most of our little remaining time together in the Malay Peninsula, since this is the country where the largest area of land has been given over to rubber-trees, where many of the finest plantations are situated, and where advanced methods of cultivation and manufacture are most generally practised.
Our surroundings are very Oriental, yet there are many signs that Western civilization is playing an important part in the life of this country. When our ship dropped anchor in the harbour at Singapore, we imagined that by some mistake we had been brought to a Chinese port, instead of to our proper destination in the British Straits Settlements. The quay was packed with Chinamen, or “boys,” as they are all called when they belong to the working class, no matter whether their age is six or sixty. When our luggage had been seized by as many of the pig-tailed brigade as could manage to secure any one of our belongings, when we and our traps had been taken possession of by Chinese rickshaw coolies, and at last we were on the move again each of us being jog-trotted along in a sort of invalid chair with a picturesque, yellow-skinned ragamuffin in the shafts, we were even more sure that we were in China, and the impression became stronger still as we passed through street after street thronged with Chinese men, women, and children, and lined with shops displaying Chinese wares, Chinese signs over and around the doors, and Chinese lanterns for every-night illuminations. Presently, as we emerged into a broad thoroughfare, we found ourselves in totally different surroundings. The fine public buildings, houses, shops, and hotels looked distinctly Western; several times a minute trams and motors threatened to run down our rickshaws; we saw many English faces, heard English being spoken freely, and noticed that shops and hoardings gave us a great deal of information in the English language. But now we were thoroughly puzzled as to the nationality of Singapore. The crowd in the streets was cosmopolitan, Western and Eastern in about equal proportions, but whilst undoubtedly the West was represented mostly by English people, it was difficult to make up our minds whether there were more Malays or Chinese among the Eastern population.
M. S. Nakajima, Kuala Lumpur
CARRYING LATEX TO FACTORY, IN MALAYA. [Page 81]
Now that we have come up-country in the Malay Peninsula, it is more difficult than ever to tell from our surroundings who is the ruling power in the land. We see a few Europeans among a host of Orientals, all of whom are called “natives,” although they represent many races. We are in the midst of a highly cultivated district, which is entirely devoted to rubber-growing; through its midst runs a railway, and the interior is served by excellent roads. Yet everywhere in the background rises a wall of jungle. We are right when we jump to the conclusion that the rubber lands were once jungle too, and when we tell ourselves that, in spite of the fact that the bulk of the population of this Peninsula is Oriental, the plantations, roads, and railways owe their origin to Western enterprise and a Western scheme of development.