The society of Singapore will compare favourably with that of any British Colony, and for genial hospitality its residents cannot well be surpassed. As in India, new comers are expected to call upon the residents first. In my own case I brought letters of introduction to some of the older inhabitants, and I must here acknowledge how handsomely those cheques were honoured by them. One scarcely knows how valuable genial hospitality really is at home, but far away it is pleasant to find how thoroughly English—British, one ought to say—is the welcome extended to strangers. Government House is the Court, of course, and it is needless to say, that all courtesies essential are there extended to both residents and others. Of course, in a community formed of many nationalities, and of people whose trade and other interests are liable to clash with those of their neighbours, there are sure to be little murmurings and bickerings, together with petty jealousies of various kinds. This is so, more or less, everywhere, but in the Colonies there are few, if any, old titled families to balance the commercial interest. One may see some bonny English faces in the carriages which are here driven around the Esplanade just as along the “Lady’s Mile” at home; or one evening a week are gathered around the band-stand at the gardens. The climate, however, is not well suited to the development of the rosy cheeks we see at home; the peach-like bloom too soon gives place to the soft purity of the lily, and it often becomes necessary for the wife and children to return to a cooler climate, in order to regain somewhat of the health and strength of which a lovely but debilitating climate has robbed them for a time. Here, as in India, this is a serious drawback to many residents. Here, too, there are no hill stations sufficiently near, or, as yet, adapted to serve as Sanatoriums. Now that Jahore is being opened up, however, it is to be hoped that a few bungalows may be erected on Gunong Puloi, on the summit of which the air is comparatively cool and bracing, much more so than on Penang Hill, and it may be readily reached from Singapore in two days. The cost of living here, even in proportion to the large salaries received, is far in excess of that at home, and the mode of life itself is different. Here, one must have a large house, and if there is a family, five or six servants at least are needed. The wages paid to these appear small when compared with the cost of English servants, but at least three times as many are required. The master must have his “boy,” the mistress her “ayah,” then the cook, water-carrier, grooms, gardener, must be provided, to say nothing of nursery attendance. Native provisions are tolerably cheap, but many things essential must be imported from home at an advanced rate. Furniture is dear, and pianos, and many other necessities, to say nothing of luxuries, must also be brought from the old country, and freight, if not commission, has to be added to the cost. The very nature of the currency used adds to other expenses. Many things purchasable at home for a shilling, here cost a dollar, at the least a rupee or two shillings, and the result of all this is that with an annual income of five hundred pounds in England, one must think twice ere a jump is made at what appears a tempting bait, namely, “a thousand a year” in the East.
The progress and importance of Singapore, commercially and politically, have never ceased to increase since 1819, when the British flag was first raised on the island by Sir Stamford Baffles.
[1] This last instrument closely resembles the “teponaztli,” an instrument still in use by the Indians in the Cordilleras of Mexico, the deep thudding sound of which may be heard a distance of several miles. [↑]
CHAPTER III.
VISIT TO JAHORE—GUNONG PULOI.
On the way—Gambling—River-travel—In the Forest—Vegetation—A Resting-place—Tropical Fruits—Breed of Dogs—On the summit—Wild Animals—Wild Men—Sale of Women.
This mountain lies about twenty-five miles north-west of the native town of Jahore, and is a trifle over 2,000 feet in height. To reach it from Singapore, one must take post-horses or the coach which runs daily to Krangi, a police-station on the margin of the “Old Strait,” and thence little steam ferry-boats carry one on to Jahore, from which place the mountain is reached partly in boats viâ the Scudai river, and partly on foot through the forest.
I had agreed to visit the Puloi mountain in company with the government botanist, and leaving Singapore early, we reached Jahore about 3 P.M., after several little stoppages on the way. The ride from Singapore to Krangi was a very pleasant one to me, fresh as I was from the “old country.” The roads are remarkably smooth, and of a bright red colour, their margins fringed with orchards of tropical fruits or rows of betel-nut palms. Here and there are patches of sugar-cane, tapioca, or indigo, little plots of great-leaved bananas, while at intervals one catches passing glimpses of neat white bungalows nestling amid tall cocoa-nut groves. Arriving at Krangi, hot and dusty, we rested some time in a clean bungalow or rest-house, built for the convenience of travellers by the Government. The native police were very attentive, and we took our luncheon here and strolled around the station, and saw abundant evidence of the wild pigs, which are said to be very plentiful. While we waited, the Maharajah drove up in a neat little carriage drawn by a pair of ponies. This was just before his visit to England, and we obtained a good view of him. He is a fine manly fellow, with a bushy moustache, and was dressed in white trousers and jacket, with a white sun-hat, and wore a coloured “sarong” around his waist. We informed him of our intended visit to the mountain, and he promised us that Mr. Hole, his secretary, should furnish us with guides and boatmen.