In the Eastern Seas

by William Henry Giles Kingston

There was a large plantation of them. We cut off a number of the heads which grew on the side of the stalk, several on one. Each head consisted of a long piece of pith, to which the grain was thickly attached, the whole sheathed in broad oblong leaves, which protect them from injury, till the seed is perfectly hard and ripe. Here also was a plantation of sugar-cane. They also were tall, graceful, reed-like plants, and were nearly ripe.

Tanda was working in the plantation—or garden, shall I call it? My uncle told him to bring home a quantity of the canes, and he began cutting them at once. He cut off the tops, and left them and the root on the ground. I thought I could have carried a number, but I found a single cane heavy, so loaded was it with juice.

In another part of the ground there was a plantation of rice. It was on the lowest level, where it could be well irrigated by a stream which ran near. The rice grew on the top of each blade, the head alone being cut off. The rice, before the husk is taken off, is called paddy, and rice-fields are therefore generally called paddy fields.

Among other productions of the garden are several bushes which produce the red pepper. They are covered with fruit of all sizes. Some of them are small and green, and some which are fully grown and ripe are of a bright pink colour. These are now fit for gathering, and after being dried are ready for use. It is called lombok by the Malays. They always carry about a quantity of it, and use it at every meal. One small plot was devoted to the cultivation of tobacco. That also was almost ready for use, and my uncle said we should have a good supply for the voyage. The leaves, as soon as they have grown to a sufficient size, are plucked off, and the petiole and part of the midrib are cut away. The leaves are then cut transversely into strips about one-sixteenth of an inch wide. These are then hung up to dry in the sun, and have very much the appearance of bunches of oakum. It is in this state ready for smoking in pipes. When employed for making cigars, the leaves are not cut, but dried more carefully in their whole state. Neither tobacco nor maize are natives of this region, but were brought from the New World two hundred years ago.

In the evening Tanda arrived with the bundles of sugar-cane. Fortunately the machine which my uncle had invented for crushing them was at some distance from the house, and had escaped destruction. It was sufficient for the object, though rather roughly made. After the juice had been pressed out it was boiled, and allowed to run into a number of pots, where it was to cool and crystallise. It was then of a dark brown colour. While so doing, a quantity of clay and water, of about the consistency of cream, was poured over it. The effect of the water filtering through was to purify the crystals and make them almost white. My uncle told us that it was discovered that the clay would produce this effect by a native, who observed that when birds stepped on the brown sugar with their muddy feet, wherever their claws had been placed it became curiously white. When the finer part of the juice had been pressed out, the remainder, which is thick brown molasses, is allowed to ferment with a little rice. Palm-wine is afterwards added, and from this compound arrack, the common spirit of the East, is distilled. My uncle manufactured it for the sake of preserving his specimens; but he said he considered it one of the most destructive stimulants which can be taken into the human body, especially in this hot country.

We had all gone to bed last night, and I believe everybody was asleep, when Grace and I were awoke by a curious sensation, as if our beds were being rocked. We sat up and began talking to each other, both having experienced the same feeling. Again the movement began, at first very gently, and then rapidly increasing till the whole house seemed to be moving up and down, like a ship at sea, while all the timbers creaked and cracked as if it were about to fall to pieces.

“What is the matter? What is it?” cried Frau Ursula, starting up. “Oh dear! oh dear! there’s an earthquake!” and she sprang from her bed. “Come! fly, girls, fly! The house will come down!” she screamed out.

Her voice awakened those in the other rooms who were still asleep. “Don’t be alarmed!” I heard my uncle saying. “A marble palace would be thrown to the ground long before this house will be. We are as safe here as anywhere.”

Scarcely had he spoken, however, when several crashes were heard in succession, and the house shook so much that I felt almost sea-sick. In spite of my uncle’s exhortation, the Frau hastily threw on her clothes, and we, imitating her example, followed her down the steps, where we were speedily joined by the rest of the inmates. There were strange noises in the forest, and it seemed as if the trees were knocking together, while the animals round us uttered unusual cries. My uncle and Tanda were the only people who remained inside. He again cried to us to come back, and at length the Frau was persuaded to return. He had struck a light, and enabled us to see our way.

“There, go to bed again,” he said; “a few bottles and cases only have been tumbled down, and no harm has been done.”