CELEBES AND TIMUR.
_June 18th._—We anchored this evening close in to the coast of Celebes
on a shallow plateau, which is really only a slightly-submerged part of
the island itself. This word Celebes is not of native origin, and was
probably introduced by the Portuguese, who were the earliest Europeans
that visited this island. It first appears in the historical and
descriptive writings of De Barros,[14] who informs us that it was not
discovered until 1525, fourteen years after the Portuguese first came
to the Moluccas; but at that time they were only anxious to find the
regions where the clove and the nutmeg grew. Afterward they were induced
to search for this island from the rumors that came of the gold found
here; and, indeed, to this day, gold is obtained in the northern and
southwestern peninsulas. At first, Celebes was supposed to consist of
many islands, and this belief appears to have given it a name in a plural
form. It consists of a small, irregular, central area and four long limbs
or peninsulas, and De Cauto[15] very aptly describes it as “resembling in
form a huge grasshopper.” Two of these peninsulas extend to the south,
and are separated from each other by the Gulf of Boni: one takes an
easterly direction, and the other stretches away six degrees to the north
and northeast. In the southwest peninsula, which is the only one that has
been completely explored, two languages are spoken—the Mangkasara, in
the native tongue, or Mangkasa, in the Malay (of which word, “Macassar,”
the name of the Dutch capital, is only a corruption), and the Wugi or
Bugi, which was originally more particularly limited to the coast of the
Gulf of Boni. North of Macassar, in the most western part of the island,
is another people—the Mandhar—who speak another language. On the island
of Buton, which ought to be considered a part of the peninsula east of
the Gulf of Boni, another language is spoken. The eastern peninsula is
unexplored. The northern contains the people speaking the Gorontalo and
the Menado languages.
The primitive religion of most of these natives is supposed to have
been some form of Hinduism. De Cauto says: “They have no temples, but
pray looking up to the skies with their heads raised,” which he regards
as conclusive evidence that “they had a knowledge of the true God.”
According to the records of the Macassar people,[16] the Mohammedan
religion was first taught them by a native of Menangkabau, a province
on the plateau in the interior of Sumatra, north of the present city of
Padang. This occurred just before the arrival of the Portuguese in 1525,
and the native annals say that the doctrine of the false Prophet and of
Christianity were presented to the prince of Macassar at the same time,
and that his advisers pressed him to accept Mohammedanism, because “God
would not allow error to arrive before truth.”
In the interior live a people called by the coast tribes Turaju, who
are represented as head-hunters, and even cannibals. Barbosa[17] makes
a similar statement in regard to all the natives of this island in
his time. He says, when they came to the Moluccas to trade, they were
accustomed to ask the king of those islands to kindly deliver up to them
the persons he had condemned to death, that they might gratify their
palates on the bodies of such unfortunates, “as if asking for a hog.”
As we steamed up the coast to Macassar, the mountains in the interior
came grandly into view. They appear much more connected into chains than
in Java. One of them, Lompo-batung, rises to a height of eight thousand
two hundred feet above the sea, and is probably the loftiest peak on the
whole island.
The harbor of Macassar is formed by a long, curving coral reef, with its
convex side from the shore. At a few places this reef rises above the
surface of the water and forms low islands; but, in the heavy gales of
the western monsoon, the sea frequently breaks over it into the road with
such violence as to drive most of the native praus on shore. Near it were
fleets of fishing-boats, and this was the first place in these tropical
seas where I found a fish that, according to my taste, was as nice as
those which come from the cold waters that bathe our New-England shores.
In the road were many praus of forty or fifty tons’ burden, and some
even twice as large. In the beginning of the western monsoon they go in
great numbers to the Arru Islands, the principal rendezvous[18] for the
people of Ceram, Goram, the Ki Islands, Tenimber, Baba, and the adjacent
coast of New Guinea. Mr. Wallace, who was particularly seeking the birds
of paradise, went in one of these rude vessels to the Arrus, a distance
of one thousand miles. When Mr. Jukes was at Port Essington, in January,
1845, two of these praus were there. One had made the passage from
Macassar in ten, and another in fifteen days. But, on these long voyages,
many never return. In the last of the month a third came into that port
and reported that four others, more than had arrived safely, had just
foundered during a heavy gale, and that the crew of only one was salved.
Many go every year to the islands off the eastern end of Ceram and to
the neighboring coast of Papua, and sometimes along its northern shores
to Geelvink Bay. These long voyages indicate that the Bugis are now what
the Malays were when the Portuguese first came to the East, namely, the
great navigators and traders of the archipelago. They carry to all these
localities English calicoes and cotton goods of their own manufacture,
also Chinese gongs and large quantities of arrack. They bring in return
tortoise-shell, mother-of-pearl shell, pearls, birds of paradise, and
_tripang_, which appears to be the common Malay name for all kinds of
_Holothurians_, or “sea-cucumbers.” These latter animals abound on every
coral reef throughout the archipelago, just above and below low-water
level. As many as twenty different sorts are recognized of perhaps half
as many species. That kind is considered the most valuable which is found
on the banks of coral sand which are bare, or nearly bare, at low tide,
and are covered with a short, green sea-weed. After the animals are
collected, the intestines are removed, and they are boiled in sea-water,
in some places with the leaves of the papaw, and in others with the bark
of a mangrove-tree which gives them a bright-red color. After they have
been boiled, they are buried in the ground till the next day, when they
are spread out to dry in the sun. Sometimes they are not buried in the
ground, but dried at once on a framework of bamboo-splints over a fire.
They are now ready to be shipped to China, the only market for this
disgusting article. There the Celestials make of them one of their many
favorite soups. It is said that the Chinese cooks boil them some time
with pieces of sugar-cane to partially neutralize their rank flavor.
Many are also gathered in the Gulf of Siam and sent up the China Sea.
Mr. Crawfurd has been unable to discover any mention of _tripang_ by the
Portuguese writers, and this he regards as one proof, among others, “that
the Chinese, who chiefly carry on this trade, had not yet settled in the
archipelago when the Portuguese first appeared in it.” There are yearly
shipped from Macassar some fourteen thousand piculs of this article, of
a value of nearly six hundred thousand dollars! A few cargoes, chiefly
of coffee, from Menado and the interior, are exported each year directly
to Europe, but ships usually have to go to China for a return-freight. In
1847 Macassar was made a free port, in imitation of Singapore.
Our steamer came alongside a well-built iron pier, the only one of
any kind I had yet seen in the East. Though the mail then came but
once a month, there seemed to be no great excitement. A small group of
soldiers, with red and yellow epaulets, came down and looked on in a most
unconcerned manner, while a number of coolies gathered and began carrying
the cargo on shore—for trucks and drays are modern innovations that have
not yet appeared in these distant regions, not even to any considerable
degree in Batavia. The sea-water here is remarkably pure and clear. As we
were hauling in to the pier, several boys kept swimming round and round
the ship, and shouting out, “_Képing tuam! képing tuan!_” that is, “A
small piece of money, sir! a small piece of money, sir!” and I found that
when I threw a copper coin as large as a cent, so that it would strike
the water edgewise, even at a distance of ten feet from them, some one
would invariably catch it before it reached the bottom. This is quite as
wonderful skill as is shown by any of the natives in the South Seas.
From the pier a street leads up to a large common, and on the right side
is Fort Rotterdam, which was built soon after 1640, when the Dutch first
formed a settlement on the island, though they had been trading with
the natives since 1607. In 1660 they had driven away their rivals the
Portuguese, had conquered the natives of Macassar, and fully established
their authority over all this part of the island. Opposite the fort is
the “Societeit,” or Club-House—for every place of any considerable size
in the Netherlands India has one or two of these pleasant resorts, where
newspapers and periodicals are received, and all the social Europeans
gather in the cool evenings to enjoy a “pijt”—a small glass of gin with
bitters—or “a potje van bier,” in just the way that Irving pictures the
happy moments of Rip van Winkle. Any member may introduce a stranger, who
is at once considered one of the fraternity; and I formed many pleasant
acquaintances and passed many pleasant hours in this way. Beyond the
club-house, on a street beautifully shaded with tamarind-trees, are the
hotel and residence of the governor. I called on him, for, as I was
travelling under the patronage of the government, it was expected that I
should present myself before the highest official of each place that I
might chance to visit, and thus express my sense of the kindness of the
government toward me; and, at the same time, do what the etiquette of
the land required. The governor here most kindly offered me post-horses
free, if I would stop and travel in the territory under his immediate
command. After the heat of the day was passed, two of my merchant-friends
gave me a ride through the town, and a mile or two out into the adjoining
country, to visit the tombs of the native princes who ruled that region
before the arrival of Europeans. These tombs had, originally, been
enclosed in a house, but the roof was already gone, and the walls were
rapidly crumbling away. At the foot and head of each grave was a square
pillar. Near by were the ruins of a building which may have been the
residence of one of these princes. It was, like the house enclosing the
tombs, about thirty feet square, with an entrance on one side. In the
front, and right and left sides, were two ranges of holes, probably
designed for windows. The upper ones were small, but the lower ones were
a foot and a half in diameter. Its walls were eighteen inches thick, and
of the common coral rock. Several steps led up to the entrance, and this
and the windows were grotesquely ornamented. De Cauto informs us that
these people were accustomed “to burn their dead, and collect the ashes
in urns, which they inter in separate fields, where they erect chapels,
and for a year the relatives bring food, which they place on their tombs,
and which the dogs, cats, and birds carry off.”
We then took a delightful walk through the adjoining forest of
waringin-trees and cocoa-nut and betel-nut palms, and again and again I
wished I could have photographic views of the scenery around us to show
to my friends, for words utterly fail to convey any idea of the rich
grouping of the palms and shrubbery, and festooning vines about us, as
the setting sun shot into the luxuriant foliage long, horizontal pencils
of golden light.
Here we found the coffee-tree growing wild, and near by we came to
the tomb of a rich native merchant. It was a low, square building,
surmounted by a dome, and the whole enclosed by a wall about two feet
high, whose outer surface was covered with blue plates of porcelain. As
we approached, a monotonous, nasal chanting greeted our ears. It was made
by a native priest, who was repeating long prayers from the Koran, by the
grave of his departed friends. The notes of his minor, melancholy chant
echoed and reëchoed widely through the quiet forest, and were the more
impressive because they seemed to come from the abode of the dead. He
invited us in, and showed us his books, which were written by hand, and
yet all the characters were as neat and regular as copperplate. In the
grounds was a papaw-tree with a branch which bore at its summit leaves
and fruit like the parent stem.
On the 20th of June we sailed for Kupang, a port near the southern end
of the island of Timur. The southern extremity of the southwestern
peninsula of Celebes is low, with mountains of moderate height rising in
the interior. As we steamed past it on our way southward to Sapi Strait,
between Sumbawa on one side and Commodo and Floris[19] on the other, we
found that the eastern monsoon had already freshened to a strong breeze,
but it was steady, and the sky and sea reminded one of “the trades.” Many
flying-fish sprang out of the sea, as if too happy to remain in their
more proper element.
On the second morning from Macassar, Gunong Api, “The Burning Mountain,”
rose up majestically before us. Its high top, five thousand eight
hundred feet above the level of the sea, was hidden by horizontal clouds,
_strati_, which parted while we were observing the mountain, and let down
a band of bright sunlight over its dark sides. It is not a single but a
double peak—the one to the northwest appearing from the deep valleys and
ravines in its sides to be the older. On the eastern flanks of this peak,
near the shore, there appears to be an old crater, whose outer wall has
been washed away by the sea. For one-third of the distance from the shore
to the top of this peak there is some shrubbery in the bottoms of the
deep ravines; but the remaining two-thirds are quite bare. At its top,
this mountain ends in a small truncated cone. The southwestern peak seems
to have recently formed, for, from its top down to the shore, on the
southeast side, there is one continuous sheet of fine volcanic materials,
scored only by narrow grooves with perpendicular sides. When viewed in
profile, the unbroken sweep of its sides, from its summit to the sea,
was most majestic. It was so regular, that it was difficult to believe
it had not been shaped by the hand of man. By this time we were in the
midst of the strait between Sumbawa and Commodo, and soon we passed on
the left hand Gillibanta, whose highest point is only twelve hundred
feet above the sea. Its name in Javanese means the “one that disputes
the way.” It is merely the remnant of an old crater, whose northwestern
wall has disappeared beneath the sea. The southerly dip of the successive
overflows of lava was plainly to be seen.
On our right was Sumbawa, with its high mountains, and near its
southeastern end is Sapi, or Cattle Bay, which gives its name to the
strait. In a peninsula on the northern side of this island is Mount
Tomboro, which suffered such a terrible eruption, and caused so much
destruction of human life, in 1815. The first intimation that the people
of Java received of this frightful phenomenon was a series of explosions,
so closely resembling the reports of cannon, that at Jokyokarta, in Java,
a distance of four hundred and eighty miles, troops were marched toward
a neighboring post that was supposed to have been attacked. At Surabaya,
gunboats were sent out to assist ships that were thought to be trying to
defend themselves against pirates in the Madura Strait; and at two places
on the coast, boats put off to search for ships that were imagined to be
in distress. These reports occurred on the 5th of April, and continued
for five days, when the sky over the eastern part of Java began to be
darkened by falling ashes, and for four days they could not see the sun.
Mr. Crawfurd says that at Surabaya the sky for several months did not
become as clear as it usually is in the southeast monsoon. Northward from
Sumbawa the reports accompanying this eruption were heard as far as the
island of Ternate, near Gilolo, a distance of seven hundred and twenty
geographical miles, and so distinctly, that the Resident sent out a boat
to look for the ship which was supposed to have been firing signals. To
the westward these reports were heard at Mokomoko, a post near Bencoolen,
which is no less than nine hundred and seventy geographical miles
in a right line—as far as from New York to the Keys off the southern
extremity of Florida. The ashes that were poured into the air during
this eruption fell to the eastward, or against the prevailing wind, as
far as the middle of Floris, about two hundred and ten geographical
miles; and westward on Java, in the mountains of Cheribon, about two
hundred and seventy miles from the volcano. So great was the quantity of
ashes thrown out at this time, that it is estimated that on the island
of Lombok, about ninety miles distant, _forty-four thousand_ persons
perished in the famine that followed. Dr. Junghuhn thinks that, within a
circle described by a radius of two hundred and ten miles, the average
depth of the ashes was at least two feet; this mountain, therefore, must
have ejected several times its own mass, and yet no subsidence has been
noticed in the adjoining area, and the only change that has been observed
is, that during the eruption Tomboro lost two-thirds of its previous
height.[20] The captain of a ship dispatched from Macassar to the scene
of this terrible phenomenon states: “On approaching the coast, I passed
through great quantities of pumice-stone floating on the sea, which had
at first the appearance of shoals, so much so that I sent a boat to
examine one, which, at the distance of less than a mile, I took for a dry
sand-bank, upward of three miles in length, with black rocks in several
parts of it.” This is the kind of stones I saw floating over the sea as
we were approaching the Strait of Sunda. Besides the quantities of this
porous, foam-like lava, that are thrown directly into the sea by such
eruptions, great quantities remain on the sides of the volcano, and on
the surrounding mountains, and much of that is conveyed, during the rainy
monsoon, by the rivers to the ocean. The land at the southeast extremity
of Sumbawa appears to be composed of a light-colored clay, the strata of
which have been greatly plicated.
Several ugly rocks rise in this strait. The largest is named, in the
native tongue, “The Eye of the Devil,” and it winked at us most wickedly
out of the white surf as we passed. While in the Java Sea, before
entering the strait, we had only light winds; but, as we came into the
Indian Ocean, we experienced a strong breeze from the southeast. The
current, which had been with us and against the wind, was met off the
southwest promontory of Floris by a current with the wind from the east,
and at once the sea rose up into pyramidal masses, or formed waves that
rolled over and broke against the wind, like those from the windward
quarter of a ship which is sailing “on a wind.” High mountains also line
the Commodo and Floris side, but the scenery became especially grand as
we rounded the southwest promontory of the latter island. It reminded me
of the pictures of the precipitous coast of Scotland, except that, while
those rocks are all bare, these are all covered with the trailing plants
that have gained a foothold in the crevices of these precipices. Floris
is also called Endé, from the principal port of that name on its southern
coast. The trade of this place is mostly with Sandal-wood Island. It is
also called Mangerai, the name of the chief place on its northern shore.
The people of the latter port trade mostly with the Bugis and Malays. In
the coves and bays on the northern coast near this strait many pirates
formerly took shelter. They were merely Malays or Bugis from Bali,
Sumbawa, or Celebes. In the interior there is a people whose hair is
frizzled. A similar one also live in the interior and mountainous part of
Solor, Pintar, Lombata, and Ombay. Those living on the sea-coast belong
to the brown or Malay race. On the south coast there is a tribe called
Rakka, who are reported to be the worst kind of cannibals, accustomed not
only to devour their enemies, but the bodies of their deceased relatives.
At sunset we could just discern the outline of Sumba or Sandal-wood
Island. It appeared uniformly high, as it has always been described.
Mr. Jukes passed near its southeast point, while on a voyage in her
Britannic Majesty’s ship Fly from northern Australia to Surabaya. He
describes it as composed of ranges of hills that rise immediately from
the sea to a height of two thousand feet. The strata of these hills are
nearly level, and appeared to be composed of comminuted coral. This would
indicate that the island had undergone a great elevation during the later
tertiary period. It is probably composed mostly of volcanic rocks, like
the adjacent islands. Its area is about four thousand geographical square
miles. The most frequented harbor is near the middle of the northern
shore. Vessels go there from Surabaya, in the latter part of the western
monsoon, to purchase the active little ponies peculiar to this island,
and return in the beginning of the eastern monsoon, after having remained
there about three months. These horses are considered more valuable than
those from any other part of the archipelago, except the Batta lands, in
the interior of Sumatra. When a ship arrives, her crew at once scatter
over the whole island, visiting all the various _campongs_, or villages,
to make their purchases. A Dutch officer, who has travelled over the
island, informs me that these people have quite different features from
the natives of the adjoining island of Savu, especially the females,
whose faces are much broader. They are said to have a peculiar language,
and to be a separate nation; but I judge from all I could learn that
they form merely a subdivision of the Malay family. The captain of an
American whale-ship, which was wrecked on one of the southern points,
complained to me that the natives stole every thing he brought on shore,
and threatened him and his crew with violence; but I think it was only
because he could not speak Malay, and because each party misunderstood
the intentions of the other.
At noon the next day we saw the lofty peak of Mount Romba rising up on
Floris. It is said to be only seven thousand feet in height, but it
appeared to us as high as Mount Slamat in Java. At the eastern end of the
island, opposite Adenara and Solor, is a small Portuguese settlement,
called Laruntuka. The extreme length of the island is about two hundred
geographical miles, and its area a fraction larger than Sandal-wood
Island. It yields much sandal-wood, and the natives state that copper is
found there, but gold and iron are not known to occur. While in this part
of the Indian Ocean, generally in the morning, we had strong breezes from
the southeast, which moderated at noon, and increased again at sunset.
They varied considerably in the hour they began, and in their strength
and duration, and were quite unlike the steady trades.
At 2 P. M., on our third day from Macassar, we sighted the island of
Semao, off the bay of Kupang. Its northern end is only a rock, sparsely
covered with trees. It has no mountains, and most of its beaches are
composed of coral sand.
After dark that evening we anchored near the village of Kupang, which
is situated on the south side of a great bay, some twelve miles wide
and twenty long. This is a fine harbor now in the eastern monsoon, but
during the western monsoon it is so slightly protected by the northern
end of Semao that the sea may be said to roll directly in from the open
ocean. At such times the steamer is obliged to seek a partial shelter
under the lee of a small island on the north side of the bay. Whalers,
and merchant-ships bound to and from China in the western monsoon,
however, frequently call here, because it is the only harbor of any
kind near the southern end of the island. If the projected line of
steamers between northern Australia, Surabaya, Batavia, and Singapore,
is established, this port would be one of the places they would visit.
The village is situated on a sandy beach, that is terminated on either
hand by cliffs of coral rock, which the sea has worn out into caves and
small projecting points of the most grotesque forms. It has a population
estimated at from six to seven thousand. Its chief exports are tripang,
beeswax from the interior, and a sandal-wood, which is said to be the
best in the whole archipelago. They raise several kinds of the nicest
oranges. The Mandarin orange, probably brought originally from China, is
the most delicious of any kind of this fruit that I ever tasted. I doubt
very much whether our West India Islands, or Sicily, or any other part
of the world, can compete with Timur in the rich flavor of its oranges.
The hills around the village are only covered with a scanty vegetation,
through which the coral rock outcrops, and in every direction the whole
country, except in the valleys, presents a most barren and uninviting
aspect, compared to the richly-clothed shores of Java, and most of the
other islands we have seen. Indeed, none of the hills and high ridges
throughout all the southern half of the island are covered with such
dense forests as are seen in the eastern and northern parts of Java, and
the middle and northern parts of Celebes, and over all the higher parts
of Borneo and Sumatra.
As we passed through Sapi Strait, I noticed that, although both shores
were green, yet forests appeared to be wanting both on Sumbawa and
Floris, and this is also said to be true of Sandal-wood Island. It is
also asserted that this is somewhat the condition of the eastern end
of Java and the southern end of Celebes. Probably the cause of this
partial sterility is chiefly owing to the circumstance that the southeast
monsoon, which continues here most of the year, from about March till
November, comes over the dry, desert-like interior of Australia, and
does not become saturated with moisture on its passage over the Arafura
Sea. Most of the precipitation, therefore, that does take place on
Timur, must occur on the southeast side of the water-shed, and it is
possible that extensive forests may exist on that part of the island. The
northern half of the island, which is owned by the Portuguese, is far
more fertile, and if it were thickly inhabited, and properly cultivated,
might yield large crops of coffee. On landing, the most surprising of all
the objects that meet the eye are the natives. At that time there were
at least six different kinds in this same village, besides descendants
of Malay mothers, and Chinese, Portuguese, Dutch, English, and probably
American fathers, of every possible degree of mixture, a perfect Gordian
knot for the ablest ethnologist. Each of these varieties of natives had
some peculiarity in dress, and one wore the hair long and frizzled; but
I doubt whether they could be referred to the true Papuan type. They
appeared to be fair specimens of the aborigines, who have been already
mentioned as inhabiting the interior of Floris, Solor, Omblata, Pintar,
and Ombay. The natives of Savu are described as belonging to this same
group, which Mr. Crawfurd calls the Negro-Malayan race. The Rajah of Savu
was at Kupang while we were there, and certainly was nearly of pure Malay
blood.
Contrary to what would be supposed, from its position, the island of
Rotti, off the southern end of Timur, is inhabited by a lank-haired race,
who are probably Malays. They were represented to me, by the Resident of
Kupang, as a most peaceable people, and very different in this respect
from the wild natives of Timur. On the southeast coast of Timur, near
Mount Alias, there is said to be a tribe of black people whose hair is
frizzled, and, instead of being evenly distributed over the scalp, is
collected into little tufts, a characteristic which seems to separate
the Papuans from all other people. Mr. Earl says[21] that some of the
people on the table-land back of Dilli have “opaque yellow complexions,
the exposed parts of the skin being covered with light-brown spots or
freckles,[22] and the hair is straight, fine, and of a reddish hue, or
dark-auburn color. Every intermediate variety of hair and complexion
between this and the black, or deep-chocolate color, and the short tufted
hair of the mountain Papuan, is found in Timur.” This statement would
indicate that all the intermediate shades of difference were the results
of a mixture of the Malayan and Papuan blood, and this seems to be the
probable origin of the whole Negro-Malayan race. Its position in that
part of the archipelago nearest Papua is in entire accordance with this
hypothesis.
Tradition says that the Rajah of Kupang formerly sacrificed a young
virgin to the sharks and crocodiles once every year, but this was
generally regarded as a fable, until a gentleman visited the island of
Semao, some twenty years ago, and asserted that a rajah pointed out
to him a place on the beach of a bay near the southeast point of that
island, where “it was their custom after harvest to bring sugar-cane,
rice, fowls, eggs, pigs, dogs, and a _little child_, and offer them to
the evil spirits,” and the rajah further declared, that he had witnessed
this murderous rite himself.
As we were to remain only one day, and I was chiefly interested in
collecting shells, I at once engaged a Malay guide to conduct me to a
village near the shore, a mile westward toward Semao. Our road was a
bridle-path, a few large stones having been removed, but the ragged coral
rock everywhere projects so completely through the thin soil, that it
was a constant wonder to me how the natives could travel barefoot with
such apparent ease. We soon came to half a dozen circular huts, enclosed
by a low stone wall. They were the most wretched abodes for human beings
that I saw in all my journeys over the archipelago. The walls, instead
of being made of boards or flattened bamboos, as in the other islands,
are composed of small sticks about three feet high, driven into the
ground. These supported a conical roof, thatched with palm-leaves.
Ugly-looking pigs, with long bristles on their backs, were rooting about
these detestable hovels. Soon after, we passed a burial-place. A low
wall enclosed a small irregular plat, that was filled with earth. This
contained one or more graves, each of which had for its foot and head
stones small square pyramidal blocks of wood, with the apex fixed in the
ground. The next village we entered contained only a dozen huts. A pack
of wolf-like dogs saluted us with a fierce yelping and barking, and my
attendant, after much shouting and bustle, roused the inmates of one
of these miserable dwellings. The men were gone to fish, but the women
and children came out to gaze at us, and when their dull apprehensions
finally allowed them to realize that we had come to purchase shells, and
had a good supply of small copper coins, they briskly hunted about, and
soon brought me a large number of nautilus-shells of enormous size.
The children were nearly all entirely naked, and the women only wore a
sarong, fastened at the waist and descending to the knees. This scanty
clothing they supplied by coyly folding their arms across their breasts
as they approached to sell their shells. Those of the nautilus, they all
agreed in saying, did not come from their own shores, but from Rotti; and
a gentleman, who had been along all the neighboring shores, assured me
that he had seen the natives there dive for them, in about two fathoms at
low tide, and bring them up _alive_, and that in this way great numbers
are gathered for food.
The latter part of the western monsoon, or the changing of the monsoons,
was recommended to me as the most favorable time to collect these rare
animals. Besides the nautilus, I obtained many species of _Pteroceras_,
_Strombus_, and many beautiful cones and cypræas.
The coral rocks on the hills that we crossed contained specimens
apparently of living species, at a height which I judge was five hundred
feet above the level of the sea. I marked the whole in my notebook as
merely a coral reef of very recent elevation. Since returning, and
comparing this observation with the careful description of that region
given by Mr. Jukes,[23] in his voyage of the Fly, I find he expresses
the same view, having seen this same late formation at an estimated
height of six hundred feet above the sea; and a plateau, which rises
in the interior to the height of one thousand feet, he also suspects
is of the same origin. Mr. Schneider, however, has described a “kalk
formatie,” about Kupang, which, from its position on the map, would seem
to be identical with that seen by Mr. Jukes and myself. This formation
Mr. Schneider refers to the age of the “Coral Rag,” of the Jura, in
England. Other fossiliferous strata he regards as belonging to the old
Oölitic period, or the Lias, and underlying all he thinks is a “diorite,
or dioritic porphyry and amorphous dioritic porphyry—the last, like that
found in Humboldt’s Bay, on the north coast of New Guinea, and much like
the amorphous dioritic porphyry of Australia.” Copper-veins are found
more or less wherever the Jurassic beds appear, but in the greatest
quantity nearest the diorite.
On the evening of the 24th we steamed out of Kupang Bay, and along the
northwest coast of Timur, for Dilli; and all the way to that port we were
so completely under the lee of the land, that we had only calms, and
light airs from the southeast and east-northeast. With these light winds
we always had a very clear sky; but on coming round the southwestern end
of Floris, and also on entering Kupang Bay, each time when there was
a strong breeze from the east, the sky was remarkably thick and hazy.
Our captain, who has made many voyages, at all seasons, in these seas,
informs me that the sky is almost always thick when the eastern monsoon
has become strong. This coast of Timur is not low, like the north coast
of Java, but rises immediately up from the sea, in a succession of hills.
No gigantic and lofty peaks can be seen, as in Java, and in all the
islands east to and including Ombay; the peaks along the water-shed, on
Timur, generally rising to not more than four or five thousand feet, and
Lakaan, which is regarded as the highest in that chain, is supposed to be
only six thousand. The soil appears to be very infertile, yet when the
sun was approaching the western horizon, and the cumuli, floating in the
pure air, slowly drew along their changing shadows over the innumerable
hills and valleys, the whole scene was nearly as delightful as my first
view of the tropics in coming up the Strait of Sunda. There is no road in
the interior of the island, and every one who will travel the shortest
distance, must go on horseback along the sandy beaches.
This afternoon we passed Pulo Gula Batu, “Sugar-Loaf Island.” It is
quite high, with steep, almost perpendicular sides, which have a white,
chalky appearance, and appear to be composed of strata of coral rock,
which would indicate that it had recently been elevated above the sea.
At sunset we entered Ombay Passage, the one that ships from England and
America usually choose when going to China in the western monsoon, and
frequently when returning in the eastern monsoon. One was just then
drifting down into the Indian Ocean, on her homeward voyage. This was the
first vessel we had seen since we passed down Sapi Strait, and left the
Java Sea. It was then nearly calm, and yet I saw flying-fish come out of
the water and go a considerable distance before plunging into it again,
thus proving that they must sustain themselves in the air chiefly by a
vibrating motion of their great pectoral fins. The sun was now sinking
behind the high, dark peaks of the island of Pintar.
At daylight next morning we were steaming into a little bay surrounded
by hills of fifteen hundred to two thousand feet. At the head of the
bay and around its southern shore extended a narrow strip of level
land, bordering the bases of these high hills. On the low land are two
miserable forts, and a few houses and native huts. These comprise the
city of Dilli, the Portuguese capital in all these waters. Of all the
nations in Europe, the Portuguese were the first to discover the way to
the Indies by sea. Then, for a time, they enjoyed an undisputed monopoly
over the Eastern trade; but now the northern half of this island, the
eastern end of Floris, the city of Macao in China, and Goa in Hindustan,
are the only places of importance in all the East that continue in their
hands. The common, or low Malay language, has been more affected by the
Portuguese than any other nation, for the simple reason that those early
navigators brought with them many things that were new to the Malays,
who therefore adopted the Portuguese names for those articles. The last
governor of this place had run away a few months before we arrived,
because he had received no pay for half a year, though his salary was
only five hundred guilders per month; and a merchant at Macassar told me
that, when he arrived at that city, he did not have the means to pay his
passage back to Europe. The first inquiry, therefore, that was made, was
whether we had brought a new governor. The captain’s reply was, that he
had but one passenger in the first cabin, and the only place he appeared
to care to see in that region was the coral reef at the mouth of the
harbor.
The native boats that came off with bananas, cocoa-nuts, oranges, and
fowls, were all very narrow, only as wide as a native at the shoulders.
Each was merely a canoe, dug out of a single small tree, and built up on
the sides with pieces of wood and palm-leaves. They were all provided
with outriggers. It was then low water, and the reef was bare. It had not
been my privilege to visit a coral reef, and I was most anxious to see
one, but I could not make up my mind to risk myself in such a dangerous
skiff. The captain, with his usual kindness, however, offered me the use
of one of his large boats; and as we neared the reef, and passed over
a wide garden richly-tinted with polyps, with here and there vermilion
star-fishes scattered about, and bright-hued fishes darting hither and
thither like flashes of light, a deep thrill of pleasure ran along my
nerves, which I shall never forget to the end of my days. Here in an
hour I collected three species of beautiful star-fishes, and sixty-five
kinds of shells, almost all of the richest colors. The coral rocks, thus
laid bare by the receding tide, were all black, and not white, like the
fragments of coral seen on shores. This reef is scarcely covered at
high water, and therefore breaks off all swell from the ocean; but,
unfortunately, the entrance is narrow, and the harbor is too small for
large ships. Only two vessels were there at that time. One was a brig
from Amboina, that had come for buffaloes, or for _sapis_, and the other
was a small topsail schooner from Macassar, that had come for coffee,
which is raised in considerable quantities on the plateau back of Dilli,
and is brought down on the backs of horses. Long lines of them were seen
ascending and descending the winding paths on the steep hill-sides back
of the village. These declivities were sparsely covered with trees, but
a thick grove of cocoa-nut palms grew on the low land bordering the bay.
The name Dilli, according to Mr. Crawfurd, is identical with that of the
Malay state on the northeastern side of Sumatra, which we call Delli,
and he suspects from this fact that this area was settled by a colony of
Malays from Sumatra in the earliest times. The word Timur, in the Malay,
means “East,” and this island was probably the limit of their voyages
in that direction, hence its name. Immediately off the harbor of Dilli
lies Pulo Kambing, or Goat Island, a common name for many islands in the
archipelago. On both this island and Pintar the highest peaks are at
the southern end. North of Dilli the coast is steep, and the mountains
rise abruptly from the sea. The sides of all these elevations are deeply
scored with valleys that have been formed by the denuding action of rain.
From Dilli we steamed northward along the southeast coast of Wetta, a
high, mountainous island. Its coasts are occupied by Malays, and its
interior by a black, frizzled-haired people, allied to the inhabitants
of Timur. The bloody practice of “head-hunting” still exists among
them. North of Timur is Kissa, the most important island in this part
of the archipelago. In the early part of the present century this was
the seat of a Dutch residency. It is a low island, and the rice and
maize consumed by its inhabitants are chiefly imported from Wetta. Its
people, however, carry on a very considerable trade with the surrounding
islands, and are said to be far in advance of the natives of Amboina in
point of industry. Southeast of Kissa lies Letti, for the most part high
and hilly, but level near the sea. Kloff[24] describes the natives as
tall and well formed, and having light-brown complexions. The men wear
no other dress than a piece of cloth wrapped around the waist. The women
sometimes wear, in addition to this dress, a _kabaya_, open in front.
Polygamy is not found, and adultery is punishable with death or slavery.
When the Dutch occupied these islands, they induced the natives to change
these sentences into exile to the Banda Islands, where men were needed
to cultivate the nutmeg-trees. Neither Mohammedanism nor Hinduism has
been introduced into these islands; they only pay homage to an image of
human shape placed on a heap of stones that has been raised under a large
tree near the centre of the village. When a marriage or death, or any
remarkable event occurs, a large hog or buffalo, which has been kept and
fattened for the purpose, is slaughtered. They are especially anxious to
obtain elephants’ teeth, and hoard them up as the choicest treasures.
The morning after leaving Dilli, Roma appeared on our starboard hand. It
is very high and mountainous. In 1823 it suffered very severely from a
violent hurricane, which also caused a frightful destruction on Letti.
On the latter island the cocoa-nut trees were levelled to the ground
over considerable areas. This disaster was followed by a drought, which
destroyed all their crops, and produced great mortality among the cattle,
through lack of food. The hurricane also caused the bees to desert the
island for a time—a serious loss to the inhabitants, as wax and honey
are among their chief exports. These are taken to the Arru Islands, and
thence to Macassar and Amboina. When a chief dies, his wife takes his
place in the council, a privilege rarely granted to a woman among these
Eastern nations. East of Letti is Lakor, a dry coral bank, raised twenty
feet above the sea.
Damma soon after came into view. It is also high and mountainous, and
has a lofty volcanic peak at its northeastern extremity. In 1825 it was
pouring forth great quantities of gas. At its foot is a sulphur-spring,
such as exist at many places in Java and Celebes, in the immediate
vicinity of existing volcanic action. The doctor of Captain Kloff’s
ship, the Dourga, sent some of the crew to bathe in this spring, and he
states that “though they were so affected with rheumatism as to be not
only unfit for duty but in a state of great misery, the use of this water
contributed greatly to the improvement of their health.” Springs of this
kind are found in the district of Pekalongan, west of Mount Prau, and
are frequented by many foreigners, but I never heard that any remarkable
cure has ever been effected by the use of their waters. The nutmeg-tree
grows wild on Damma, and the _canari_ also thrives here. Thirty years
after the Dutch deserted this island, the whole population were found
to have completely relapsed into barbarism, but some of the natives of
Moa, Letti, Roma, and Kissa, continue to be Christians, and five or six
native schoolmasters are now located among those islands. Southeast of
Damma lies Baba. Its people have the odd custom of rubbing lime into
their hair, even from infancy. An English vessel that was trading here
was boarded by these wild natives, and all her crew were butchered.
Another vessel suffered a like fate at Timur-laut, that is, “Timur lying
to seaward,” an island about one hundred miles long, and one-third as
wide in its broadest part. It is customary here for each family to
preserve the head of one of their ancestors in their dwelling, and, as
if to remind them all of his valorous deeds and their own mortality,
this ghastly skull is placed on a scaffold opposite the entrance. When
a young woman marries, each ankle is adorned with heavy copper rings,
“to give forth music as she walks.” Their war customs are like those
of the Ceramese. It is said that among the mountains of this island a
black, frizzled-haired people exist. If this should prove true, they will
probably be found to be like the inhabitants of Timur and Ombay, and not
referable to the Papuan type. The inhabitants of all these islands are
constantly separated by petty feuds, or carrying on an open warfare with
each other.
We were now fully in the Banda Sea, and on the 28th of June the summit
of the Gunong Api, or “Burning Mountain” of that group, appeared above
the horizon, but, as I afterward revisited these beautiful islands, a
description of them is deferred to a future page. As we steamed away
from the Bandas, we passed out of the region of continuous dry weather
and began to enter one where the wet and dry seasons are just opposite
to what they are in all the wide area extending from the middle part
of Sumatra to the eastern end of Timur, including the southern half of
Borneo and the southern peninsulas of Celebes. In all that region the
eastern monsoon brings dry weather, though occasional showers may occur;
but at Amboina, and on the south coast of Ceram and Buru, this same wind
bears along clouds that pour down almost incessant floods. At Amboina I
was assured that sometimes it rained for two weeks at a time, without
apparently stopping for five minutes, and from what I experienced myself
I can readily believe that such a phenomenon is not of rare occurrence.
In the northern part of Celebes, at Ternate, and in the northern part
of Gillolo, and the islands between it and New Guinea, and also on the
shores of the western part of that great island, the wet and dry seasons
are not well defined. This exceptional area is mostly included within
the parallels of latitude two degrees north and two degrees south of
the equator. North of it the wind at this time of year is from the
southwest, instead of from the southeast. This dry southeast monsoon
bends round Borneo, and becomes the southwest monsoon of the China
Sea, supplying abundant rains to the northern parts of Borneo and the
Philippines. It has its origin near Australia, and thence it pushes its
way first toward the northwest and then toward the northeast across the
whole Philippine group. It appears in Timur in March, and reaches the
southern part of the China Sea in May.