“CARIBOU,” OR WATER-BUFFALO, USED BY THE CHINESE-FORMOSANS.

This is said to be a descendant of those introduced by the Dutch in the seventeenth century.

MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN (MEN CROUCHING, WOMEN STANDING) OF THE TAIYAL TRIBE ON A STATE VISIT TO THE CITY OF TAIHOKU.

Besides the Chinese population of Formosa under Dutch administration, the aboriginal tribes in the mountains also acknowledged Dutch supremacy, as they had never acknowledged Chinese, and as, more recently, they have never been reconciled to Japanese. Later, when I myself went among the aborigines, I received interesting confirmation of the account given me by the Chinese-Formosan on the boat, as the reason, apparently, that I was able to get into as close touch with them as I did was because they regarded me as the reincarnation of one of the seventeenth-century Dutch, whose rule over them, three hundred years ago, has become a sacred tradition.

This tradition among the aborigines confirms the records made by Father Candidius, and other Dutch missionaries of the period; although the records, naturally, go more fully and accurately into detail. If record and tradition are to be relied upon, the Dutch rule of Formosa was marked by unusual benevolence, sagacity, and sympathy with the aboriginal people; tradition in this instance carrying more weight than record, as the former is that of the subject people. Apparently the Dutch administrators allowed the natives much liberty regarding their own form of government; there was no interference in the choice of headmen or chieftains on the part of the various tribes; nor was there interference in the administration of tribal justice by these headmen. The chief of each of the most important tribes was invested with a silver-headed staff, bearing the Dutch commander’s coat of arms. This was supposed to be used as an insignia of authority. Thus only indirectly, and in a manner appealing to the vanity of the savage chieftains, was recognition of the over-lordship of the Dutch enforced. As also indirect was the influence exerted over the chiefs, by a great feast given once a year by the Dutch governor, to which it is said the chieftain of every aboriginal tribe was invited, and where matters both inter-tribal and intra-tribal were discussed. At the conclusion of this feast presents were distributed, and the chieftains sent home with the blessing of the Dutch governor.[22]

This time of peace and prosperity for the aboriginal tribes—the memory of which has remained among them as that of a Golden Age—was brought to an abrupt end in 1661, through the invasion of Formosa by the Chinese pirate Koksinga, before referred to, and his followers, who seem to have poured in hordes into the island. The Dutch made a brave resistance; but, in all, they numbered only a little over two thousand, and were unable to hold their own against the vastly greater number of Chinese, who came over from the mainland in the train of Koksinga. The latter is said to have owned three hundred boats, in which he brought his followers from China.

In 1662 Governor Cogett, the Dutch commander, surrendered to Koksinga. Then the Dutch who remained alive, both those who had composed the garrison and also the settlers with their families—the latter said to have numbered about six hundred—left the island as speedily as was possible, most of them sailing for the near-by Dutch East Indies.

From that time until 1895—the close of the Sino-Japanese War—when Formosa passed into the hands of the Japanese, the Chinese were lords of the island. Of this period of Chinese dominance—over two hundred years—I learned little from the Chinese-Formosan on the boat. He passed on to the recounting of the sufferings of his own people—the Chinese on the island—under Japanese rule, and the injustice to which they had been subjected for twenty years. Of this he was still speaking when the little steamer, rounding the rocky islet, the last of the Lu-chu group, which lies—or rather, rears upward—as a sort of natural fortification in front of the chief harbour of the island, puffed noisily into Keelung bay. My Chinese friend, on bidding me good-bye, said he hoped that while I was in Formosa I would come to his home and meet his wives—one of whom, especially, was very intelligent and spoke a little English.

“Bradyaga”[23] though I am, and accustomed to meeting all sorts and conditions of—wives of men, I must, I think, for a moment have looked startled. It was the man’s English accent and his English point of view regarding many matters that made his casual reference to his plural household seem incongruous. He must have noticed this (indeed it was his remark that revealed my own naïveté to myself; I thought I had my features under better control), for he smiled and said: “I know in Europe and in America it is different; certain things are done sub rosa—and denied. It is a question which is better. But come to my home and see for yourself how our system works.”