At length, about 7.30 A.M., the anxiously expected little wanderer hove in sight at a little distance, and half an hour later she came alongside all safe. The projected operations had been only partially successful, owing to the extreme difficulty in making a landing. Surprised by nightfall, it was no longer practicable to make out the ten nautical miles at least they were still distant from the frigate, and the scanty crew consequently saw nothing for it but to anchor close in with the shore, and await the light of dawn in the boat. The cause of our later blue lights not being answered, was partly the want of a sufficient supply of signal lights, part having been already expended, and the rest having got damp.
We now steered for Nangkauri harbour. Full in view lay the north shore of the island of Kamorta, and, as we glided smoothly thither over the glassy sea, it loomed gradually nearer; an island of flat-topped hills, which, despite its rank vegetation, had a park-like aspect, consequent on the alternations
of forest and grass-slopes with the white coral beach, crowned with cocoa-palms. Gradually the island of Tringkut came into view, singularly level, and abounding in cocoa-palms and edible sea-slugs (Trepang), lying directly facing the entrance of the harbour-like channel, between Kamorta and Nangkauri. Our course, on which we were being propelled on a beautiful evening by a gentle soft wind which wafted us slowly but surely forwards, was indeed entrancingly delicious. Directly ahead lay the low strand of Tringkut, shimmering whitely under the dark green canopy of foliage, while the long swell, breaking on the coral reefs like glancing walls of foam, sunk away in the distance into the smooth mirror-like sea, which rose and fell almost imperceptibly, as though peacefully breathing. On the left lay Nangkauri, with its forests. On both sides of Kamorta and Nangkauri, huts and villages were visible sprinkled along the shore, from which numerous natives put off in their canoes to the frigate, but presently lay on their oars at a respectful distance, and followed us like a sort of squadron of observation. On the right was visible in mid-channel between Tringkut and Kamorta the solitary rocky island of Tillangschong; the shores of all these islands, and indeed the whole horizon, being lit up with a gorgeous Fata Morgana. The extreme southernmost cliffs of Tillangschong seemed to be suspended entirely in the air. The corners, at which jutted out the coast-lines of Tringkut and Kamorta, seen along the horizon of the ocean resembled wedge-shaped incisions into the domain
of the atmosphere; while the tips of the waves, lashed into foam as they broke upon them, seemed as if dancing in the air. The canoes of the natives were reflected upside down, till the figures seated in them were so enormously lengthened that one could almost fancy they were gigantic 'genii' disporting on the surface of the sea.
As we were sailing along in front of the village of Malacca into the splendid harbour, and just as the lead had almost a moment before marked 23 fathoms, the look-out man suddenly descried a shoal. Notwithstanding the manœuvres that were at once put in execution, it was found impossible to get entirely clear, and the frigate grounded forward of the beam on the port-side. Although it was ebb-tide, yet deep water was observable both ahead and astern, and accordingly an effort was made, by running out the guns and laying out a spring for the frigate to haul upon, to get the ship once more afloat, which accordingly speedily proved successful, so that by sundown we were enabled to anchor in good holding ground, opposite the village of Itoe, in the island of Nangkauri.
Here we lay in a calm, tranquil sheet of water, such as we had not fallen in with throughout our voyage hitherto, surrounded by dense forest, from which were heard distinctly, on board ship, the disagreeable shrill sound of innumerable crickets, and the deep coo of the great Nicobar wood-pigeon. Except for these, the most profound stillness reigned. There was not the smallest movement either in sea
or sky. Although on our excursion to Kar-Nicobar we had to endure great heat, it was here that for the first time we experienced in all its discomfort the oppressive, relaxing sultriness of the tropical atmosphere, when saturated with vapour. The thermometer stood pretty regularly at 84° to 86° Fahr., nor was it possible to find any relief by plunging into the water, which was if anything even warmer than the air. Hemmed in on all sides, and with the welcome beneficent sea-breeze frequently ceasing to blow for a week together, it was speedily pronounced a riddle, impossible to be solved, how this harbour came to be once and again selected by German and Danish Missionaries for the purposes of colonization, unless the key to the mystery be found in its secure situation, the exquisite beauty of the mountain landscape, and the numerous clear spots around.
The very morning after our arrival we set out on a small reconnoitring excursion to examine the ground, in order to decide, among so many objects claiming our attention at once, what, considering the brief time at our disposal, we might hope to undertake successfully, and what must once for all be abandoned. Our first visit was to the village of Itoe, which lay directly opposite our frigate's anchorage. The natives had all fled into the forest, only their dogs having remained behind, who saluted us with a tremendous howl. The huts, six or eight in number, had a poor, miserable appearance, and were built close to a cocoa forest, so that there was not the slightest space to move about in between
the huts, the forest, and the luxuriant underwood, so that free circulation of air was entirely prevented. In front of the village a number of Bamboo poles, with large bunches of ribbons waving about from their upper end, were stuck into the water, for the purpose of frightening away the evil spirit or Eewee, and driving him into the sea! In the interior of these few huts built of stakes, and of much inferior construction to those in Kar-Nicobar, was a large number of rudely cut figures of all possible sizes, and every variety of position, suspended by strings, and supplying the most unmistakeable evidence of the superstitions of the natives. We had never seen these kinds of charms against the evil spirit at Kar-Nicobar, nor had even heard them spoken of. Quite close to the huts was the place of interment. At one grave, apparently quite lately used, a large pole was erected, which was adorned with innumerable white and blue stripes waving in the wind, and from which had also been suspended axes, piles, bars, nails, and other tools and implements of labour of the deceased, so that the whole scene much more resembled a rag-shop than a grave heap.
From Itoe we proceeded to the peak of Monghata, on the island of Kamorta, lying just opposite Nangkauri. It was here that, in 1831, Pastor Rosen wished to found the projected settlement. He could hardly have selected a more unsuitable site, since all around is either dense forest or mangrove swamp. The spots that had been cleared are now overgrown with Saccharum Konigii (Lalang grass), of the