Voyage continued.
Sailing from Dobbo, a number of our mop-headed friends accompanied us to sea in their long canoes—curious, savage-looking boats, the bow and stern rising up six or seven feet high, decorated with shells and waving plumes of cassowary’s feathers. They were all talking, laughing, and shouting at once, and when they at length, after receiving a few farewell presents, bid us good-bye, we felt as if we had passed out of a tempest of noise into a calm, so apparently deep was the silence which reigned round us. In two days, passing the Key Islands, the inhabitants of which are very much like those of Aru, we arrived in sight of a lofty volcano, from the summit of which wreaths of white smoke were even then ascending. On approaching more closely, we saw that there were two other mountains near it, clothed with vegetation to their very summits. A fair breeze enabled us to enter the land-locked harbour of Banda. The water below our keel was so transparent, that we could see, at a depth of seven or eight fathoms, the smallest objects on the sand, and watch the living corals at work. We sailed on through narrow channels, having on one side lofty cliffs rising out of the sea.
Besides three large islands, there are several others, which form what are known as the Banda group. The largest is Lontar, or Great Banda—a crescent-shaped island, about six miles long and a mile and a half wide. Within the circle of which this island and two others joined to it form an arc, lie three more, the highest and most remarkable of which is the Grunong Api, or the Burning Mountain. It is an ever active volcano, about two thousand three hundred feet in height. We passed close under its base, and looking up, saw cloud-like masses of steam and sulphureous acid gas rising from its summit. On the Lontar shore rose up perpendicular crags from two to three hundred feet high, but everywhere covered with the most luxuriant vegetation, the trees and shrubs having their roots in the crevices, and hanging down in broad sheets of the brightest green. As we sailed on we perceived lofty palms rising amid the matted mass of vegetation, and from their crests hung long feathered leaves, silently and gracefully oscillating in the light air which filled our sails.
On the top of one of the heights appeared the dazzling white walls of Fort Belgica, with another fort below it; and along the shore on every hand extended the chief village, called Neira, with rows of wide-spreading trees shading the streets and bordering the bay. Opposite the village were a number of prows from Ceram—strange-looking vessels, high at the stem and low at the bow, having, instead of a single mast, a tall tripod, which can be raised and lowered at pleasure. There was a number of other craft—Bugis traders, mostly square topsail schooners, but ill-fitted apparently to contend with the storms which occasionally rage in those seas. Among the most beautiful trees was the lontar or palmyra palm—Borassus flabelliformis. Mr Hooker told us that its leaves were formerly used as parchment all over the archipelago before the Chinese introduced paper. In some places, even at the present time, it is used for that purpose. In every direction we could see spreading out over the island a continuous forest of nutmeg-trees, shaded by the lofty kanary-trees. The nutmeg-tree is from twenty to five-and-twenty feet high, though sometimes its lofty sprays are fifty feet high. A foot above the ground the trunk is from eight to ten inches in diameter. The fruit before it is quite ripe greatly resembles a peach. This, however, is only a fleshy outer rind—epicarp—which, as it ripens, opens into two equal parts, when within is seen a spherical polished nut, surrounding an aril, the mace, which is of a bright yellow colour. No fruit can then surpass it in beauty. The people who pick it use a small basket at the end of a long bamboo, into which it drops as they hook it off. The outer part, which we should call the fruit, being removed, the mace is carefully taken off, and dried on large shallow bamboo baskets in the sun. Its bright colour now changes to a dark yellow. The black part seen within the vermilion mace is a shell, and inside this is the nutmeg. When the mace is removed, the nuts are spread out on shallow trays of open basket-work in a drying-room. A slow fire is made beneath the floor, where the nuts remain for three months. By this time the nutmeg has shrunk so much that it rattles in its shell. The shell is then broken, and the nutmegs are sorted and packed in casks for shipment.
We took a stroll with Mr Hooker through the beautiful groves of nutmeg-trees, which were heavily laden with fruit. It is picked twice in the year, though some is obtained throughout the whole year. A beautiful carpet of green grass is spread out beneath the trees, while high above them tower the lofty kanary-trees, which stretch out their gnarled arms as if to defend their more tender sisters committed to their charge. At a distance, indeed, the nutmeg-trees are completely hidden from view by the kanary-trees. The roots of these latter are very curious, looking like enormous snakes with their heads caught in the trunk of the tree. As we strolled through the forest, sheltered from the direct rays of the sun by the thick foliage, we caught distant views of the blue ocean sparkling in the sunlight, the white surf breaking in masses of foam on the rocks beneath us, while at a distance appeared the varied forms of the other islands.
These groves of nutmegs are divided into what are called parks, belonging to different proprietors, who are known as perkeniers. By far the greater proportion of nutmegs used throughout the world are grown on these small islands, though wild nutmegs are found in New Guinea and in a few other places. As the nutmeg is among the most beautiful of fruits, so are the trees superior to almost any other cultivated plant. They are well-shaped, and have glossy leaves, bearing small yellowish flowers. On examining the fruit, we compared it in size and colour to a peach, only rather more oval. It is of a tough fleshy consistency till it becomes ripe, when, as I have before said, it splits open and shows a dark brown nut within covered with the crimson mace. We saw a most beautiful bird flying among the trees; it was the Banda pigeon, which feeds upon the nutmeg fruit. It digests the mace, but casts up the nut with its seed uninjured. By this means it has undoubtedly carried the seed to all parts of the group, and perhaps to other islands in the neighbourhood. In one part of Lontar we heard that the mace, instead of being red, is white—probably owing to some peculiarity of the soil. The deer and pig are found in the islands, and also a species of cuscus.
A proprietor, to whom Mr Hooker had an introduction, invited us to climb the burning mountain; but after considering the matter, our friend declined the honour, from hearing that the ascent was very difficult and dangerous, and that we should gain very little more knowledge about it than we should by gazing up at it from the base.
While sleeping on shore, the house we occupied was one night so shaken that we thought it would fall about our heads; but the inhabitants seemed to take it as a thing of course, and we heard that nearly every month an earthquake occurs. Several most disastrous eruptions of the mountain have taken place, causing great destruction of life and havoc among the plantations.
The Portuguese were the first Europeans who took possession of the Bandas. They were driven out by the Dutch, who exterminated the aboriginal inhabitants, and then had to import slaves to cultivate the plantations. Since slavery was abolished by Holland, convicts have been sent there for the purpose; and now, people from various neighbouring regions have been collected to perform the part of labourers. The Bandas are not properly included in the Moluccas. The cultivation of the clove-tree is now chiefly confined to Amboyna, and the surrounding islands, to which we were now bound.
A day’s sail took us off Amboyna, the capital of the Moluccas. It is one of the oldest European settlements in the East. The island is divided into two parts by the sea, a narrow sandy isthmus alone joining them. We sailed up the western inlet, the shores of which were lined by groves of cocoa-nut palm-trees, furnishing food and shade to the natives who dwell in the rude huts beneath them. We came to an anchor off the town of Amboyna. In few places we visited was the forest vegetation more luxuriant or beautiful than on this island. Ferns and palms of graceful forms were seen everywhere; climbing ratans formed entangled festoons pendent from every forest tree; while fine crimson lories and brush-tongued turkeys, also of a bright crimson colour, flew in and out amidst the foliage, forming a magnificent sight, especially when a flock of the former settled down on some flowering tree, the nectar from which the lories delight to suck. Amboyna is a large city for the East, containing 14,000 people, about 8000 of whom are Europeans, with half that number, perhaps, of Chinese and Arabs. Our great wish was to see a clove plantation in full bearing. We found, however, that the proprietors had discovered that there were more profitable means of employing their ground and labour, and that cacao plantations were superseding them.