ROSAMALA TREES.
On more than one occasion H—— stopped to talk to the natives. They were engaged in weeding—the heaviest work on the plantation, since, in the hothouse atmosphere of Java, continual labour is required to keep down the rapidly growing plants of all kinds, which would otherwise impoverish the soil and choke the coffee trees. He usually addressed the mandors, or native foremen, but once or twice he spoke sharply to an idle or careless worker. His method, he explained, was to treat them with strict justice, but merciless severity: both were necessary to secure their respect, adding that it was useless for a man who was not respected to have anything to do with native labour.
It was during many such rides, supplemented by visits to the factory and long after-dinner talks with many different persons, that I learnt something of the ins and outs of a planter's life.
Although the Dutch Government are gradually abandoning the "culture" or "Government-plantation" system, the change is too recent to permit as yet of the full development of private enterprise in the island. Even now there are Government plantations in every village, in which the natives are compelled to work without wages. Of course, it is easy to undersell the planters by produce raised on these conditions. In addition to the direct Government competition, they complained of export duties on their coffee and cinchona, and of ad valorem property taxes upon their plantations and buildings. Altogether, I gathered, the planters considered themselves very badly treated; but they had just formed an association in order to maintain their interests, and to take concerted action against the assistant-residents and the officials generally, who sometimes failed to appreciate the benefit conferred upon the country by the making of roads and other similar improvements.
The average size of the Javan coffee plantations is from 400 to 500 acres. At Tji Wangi there were 500 acres laid down in coffee, and 300 in cinchona. Part of the plantation was new, and H—— had done some clearing since he had taken over the estate. He described the process. The first thing to be done was to clear the forest. The trees were felled; the light timber—underwood and branches—was removed or burnt, but the huge trunks, bare and blackened, were left upon the ground. Indeed, I saw many such trunks, affording a curious contrast to the young plants growing around them. After this, he had formed plantations of albizzias (a slight, tall tree, with a foliage resembling that of the accacia), and planted the young trees, when they were sufficiently grown, at intervals upon the ground he had just cleared. Finally, the coffee trees, which had been grown from seedlings, and had remained in the nurseries for a year, were planted in rows, six or seven feet apart, under the shelter thus provided for them by the albizzias. The coffee trees do not bear until their third year. At the fifth year they reach maturity, and then continue in their prime for as long as ten or fifteen years. Those grown upon the higher, and therefore cooler, ranges will sometimes remain in first-rate condition for even a longer time.
H—— gathered a branch to show me the berry. It was like an acorn with the cup taken off in shape, and of a reddish-brown colour. These berries are harvested ordinarily at the beginning of the dry monsoon, i.e. in April or May. As the coolies are paid in proportion to the amount they gather, the whole crop is first of all measured. It is then put into a pulping-machine, and the husk or outer covering removed. The coffee is now said to be in the parchment, i.e. the two lobes of the bean are still covered by a parchment-like skin, and in this condition the bean is washed down into the fermenting-tanks, where it remains for thirty-six hours. After a final washing, it is dried in the sun in large wooden trays running on wheels, or else on concrete platforms. Most of the Javan coffee is sent off to Europe while it is still in the husk, in order that it may present a better appearance in the European markets. At Tji Wangi, however, the whole work of preparation was done on the estate.
As is well known, the civilized world is indebted for its increased supply of quinine to Mr. Charles Ledger, the naturalist. In a subsequent [chapter] I have given Mr. Ledger's interesting account of the manner in which he succeeded, after various adventures, in the course of which occurred the death of his faithful Indian servant, Manuel, in procuring a small quantity of Cinchona calisaya seed from Bolivia, part of which was sold to the British and part to the Dutch East India Governments. It is from the nurseries thus formed that the plantations of Java and Ceylon were stocked.
In Java the cinchona is ordinarily grown by grafting slips from a hybrid or Ledgeriana of known quality on to the Succirubra stem. The succirubra grows fast, but yields only a small percentage of quinine; the hybrid contains from ten to sixteen per cent. of sulphate of quinine. By this device a combination of quick growth and good bearing qualities is obtained, since the hybrid thus formed bears as freely as the graft. The cinchona crop is harvested whenever it is convenient, independently of the seasons, but generally at the same time as the coffee. The quinine is contained in the bark of the tree. The first crop of a plantation consists of branch bark. After the plants have been growing for about six years, a whole row is taken out. In this case the trees are entirely removed not 'barked' at all, and the whole of the bark, even that of the roots, is utilized. It is separated from the wood by beating the stems with sticks or wooden hammers. This is done by women, who sit in circles round large trays, into which they drop the bark as it falls off. It is then left to dry, and afterwards collected and placed in long wooden troughs, where it is stamped fine with heavy wooden stampers. In this condition it is packed into round bales. Finally, both coffee and cinchona are transported by coolies to the nearest railway station.