CROSSING SUMATRA.
_April 17th._—Took the steamer at Padang for Bencoolen. Nearly all the
way we had a heavy wind from the southeast, though the southeastern
monsoon has not yet begun in the Java Sea. The western limit of this
monsoon region, I judge, after many inquiries, may be considered to be
the Cape of Indrapura, but both monsoon winds prevail occasionally as
far north as Padang. Farther north the winds are constantly variable. At
Tapanuli Bay I was informed that heavy “northers” occasionally prevail
for several days; and I was earnestly advised not to go off to the
adjacent island of Mensalla in a ship’s boat, though the sea was calm for
two or three days at a time.
_April 18th._—At 2 P. M. we entered Bencoolen Bay. It is an open
roadstead, and the swell raised by the steady southeast trades of the
Indian Ocean rolls in and breaks for the first time on the shore, there
being no chain of islands to the seaward to protect this part of the
coast, as there is farther north. We were able, however, to anchor in the
bay off the city. Landing here is difficult, on account of the surf, and
especially as the shores are mostly fringed with coral reefs. The city is
located on a low bluff, on the south side of the bay.
By a treaty with the Dutch in 1824 this territory was ceded them by the
English, in exchange for Malacca and the adjoining country. It is at
present under a Resident, who is appointed by the government at Batavia,
and is not under the Governor of Padang. The residency commences at the
southeastern extremity of the island, and includes the area between
the Barizan chain and the sea-coast, from that point as far north as
Mokomoko. Its population numbers one hundred and twenty thousand five
hundred and fourteen, and is divided as follows:—Europeans, one hundred
and seventy-four; natives, one hundred and nineteen thousand six hundred
and ninety-one; Chinese, five hundred and ninety-six; Arabs, six; other
Eastern nations, forty-seven.
_April 19th._—The Resident gave me a large prau to go to Pulo Tikus or
Rat Island, a small coral island, about six miles off Bencoolen. On its
shore-side the reef curves in at one place, and forms a little bay.
All round it, on the edges of the reef, were a number of old anchors,
heavy enough for the largest frigates. They had been placed there by the
English, who moored their ships at that place, and carried off the pepper
from Bencoolen in praus. If Bencoolen had a good harbor or roadstead,
it would be an important place, but it has none, and there is no good
opportunity to make one.
On Pulo Tikus we found a few fishermen, from whom I obtained a number
of the same species of shells that I had gathered before at the Spice
Islands and other places in the eastern part of the archipelago. The
common nautilus-shell is occasionally found there, and a very perfect one
was given me that had been brought from Engano. It is, however, probable
that the animal does not live in these seas, and that these shells have
floated from the vicinity of the island of Rotti, off the southern end of
Timur, where, as already noticed, these rare mollusks are said to live in
abundance.
Bencoolen is also well known throughout the archipelago as having been
the residence of Sir Stamford Raffles, who was governor of the English
possessions, on this coast, from 1818 to 1824. From 1811 to 1816,
while the whole archipelago was under the English, Sir Stamford was
governor-general, and resided near Batavia, and it was contrary to his
most earnest representations that Java and its dependencies were ceded
back to the Dutch; and the great, direct revenue which those islands have
yielded to Holland, since that time, has proved, in an emphatic manner,
the correctness of his foresight. Ever since I arrived at Batavia, I have
frequently heard his name mentioned by the Dutch officials, and always
with the greatest respect.
Governor Raffles’s taste for natural history was very marked. During his
visit to London, before coming here, he founded the Zoological Society,
and began the Zoological Gardens, which now form one of the chief
inducements to strangers to visit that great and wealthy metropolis. When
he sailed from this port, his ship was nearly loaded with the animals of
the region, living and mounted, but, the same evening, when not more than
fifty miles from the coast, she took fire, and her crew and passengers
barely escaped with their lives. Not only all Sir Stamford’s specimens,
but all his official documents, and the many private papers he had been
gathering during twelve years, were irreparably lost. Such a strange
fatality seems to attend the shipment of specimens in natural history
from the East, but I trust that mine may be an exception to this rule.[56]
_April 20th._—Rode to Ujang Padang, a low bluff about twenty feet high,
on the north side of Bencoolen Bay. It is composed of a stiff, red clay,
resting on other layers of lead-colored clay, which are stratified, and
contain many fossils of recent shells, a few of which appeared in the
lower strata of the red clay. These fossiliferous strata probably extend
for some distance north and south, but are concealed by the overlying
strata of red clay, for they reappear again at the foot of a bluff
between this point and Bencoolen.
From Cape Indrapura southward, a strip of low, comparatively level
land borders the shore, but north of that point the ocean comes up to
the bases of the hills and mountains. South of that point there are a
few small islands near the shore, but north of it the sea is studded
with them; and especially north of Padang there are very many shallow,
dangerous coral reefs, not indicated on most maps. South of Indrapura
the coast has either been elevated more than the area north of it, which
has remained beneath the sea, or the northern part of the coast has been
depressed, while the southern part has nearly maintained its former
level. The sand and clays of which this strip of low alluvial land is
composed came from the disintegration and decomposition of the rocks
that form the Barizan chain. They have been transported to their present
position by the many small streams that flow down the southwestern
flanks of those mountains to the sea. The transporting power of a stream
depends, of course, chiefly on its volume, and the rapidity with which it
flows. A glance at the maps of Sumatra will show that the larger streams
are north of Cape Indrapura. Again, as the streams south of that point
flow, for a part of their course, through level lands, they are not as
rapid as those north of it, which empty at once into the sea, without
making a circuitous or zigzag course through the alluvial lands, or
deltas, which they themselves have formed.
_April 21st._—Commenced my overland journey on horseback, the only
mode of travelling in this region. Our company to-day consists of the
Resident, a rajah, and many attendants; and we have come here to Suban,
to look at the deposits of coal in this vicinity. From Bencoolen to
Taba Pananjong, at the foot of the Barizan, the road is nearly level,
being over the strip of low land that we followed along the Bencoolen
River, having the sharply-pointed Sugar-Loaf Mountain on our right,
until we came to a second pointed hill belonging to the same eruptive
formation. In one place we saw the recent tracks of an elephant, and the
natives, who are good judges, think they were probably made yesterday.
Soon after, a spot was pointed out to me where, not long before, were
found fragments of the clothing, and a part of the body of a native,
who, while travelling along this, the most frequented road in this
region, had been torn to pieces by the tigers. Near by is a rude trap
for these destructive beasts. It consists of a small place, enclosed by
a paling, with two large trees placed horizontally, the one above the
other, so that when the tiger puts his head between them to seize the
kid within the paling, the upper beam falls on him and holds him fast
by its great weight. The natives then, hearing his roaring, come up
and quickly dispatch him with their lances. When eighteen paals (about
seventeen miles) from Bencoolen, we left the main road, which is well
built, and followed a narrow footpath for six paals over a succession
of small ridges that jut out from the main coast-chains. They were so
near together that we were continually either scrambling down a steep
declivity to the bottom of a little valley, or climbing up the opposite
side. The soil is a red clay, like that noticed in the cliffs at Ujang
Padang, and has been formed by the decomposition of the volcanic rocks
which it covers. Heavy showers have occurred in this vicinity to-day, and
descending or ascending these declivities is very difficult. It would
be dangerous to travel here with any but these active and sure-footed
ponies. With men on their backs they will climb up places that our horses
at home, which are accustomed to level roads, would not like to ascend
alone. In certain spots along this path were many piles of the excrements
of elephants, where they came to feed on the branches of young trees.
Half an hour before sunset we arrived here, at Suban, a village of four
houses, and were glad to rest and take some food after a very fatiguing
day’s journey. Near by is a large stony brook, where I have enjoyed a
refreshing bath in the cool, clear mountain-stream.
_April 22d._—Early this morning we walked about half a mile up the
stream, making our way over the huge boulders in its bed. Soon we came
to strata of coal, associated with layers of clay and sandstone. I was
searching particularly for a limestone mentioned by Van Dijk, who has
examined the geology of this region, as being of the same age as the
coal, and containing fossils of a recent period. Not finding it in this
direction, I returned and continued down the stream for half a mile,
crossing from side to side over the slippery rocks and through the
torrent until the banks became high, perpendicular walls, and the water
was deeper than the waist.
Finding I could proceed no farther without a raft of bamboo, I returned
a quarter of a mile, ascended the steep bank, and followed down the
stream for about a mile, but could not find any outcropping of the rock
I was seeking. When I reached Suban again, I felt a peculiar smarting
and itching sensation at the ankles, and found my stockings red with
blood. Turning them down, I found both ankles perfectly fringed with
blood-suckers, some of which had filled themselves until they seemed
ready to burst. One had even crawled down to my foot, and made an
incision which allowed the blood to pour out through my canvas shoe.
All this day we have suffered from these disgusting pests. Our horses
became quite striped with their own blood, and a dog that followed us
looked as if he had run through a pool of clotted gore before we reached
the highway again. Of all the pests I have experienced in the tropics,
or in any land, whether mosquitoes, black flies, ants, snakes, or viler
vermin, these are the most annoying and disgusting. There is something
almost unendurable in the thought that these slimy worms are lancing you
and sucking out your life-blood, yet the Resident informs me that he
has travelled many times through the forests in this region when these
animals were far more numerous and tormenting than they have been to-day.
Sometimes he has known them to drop from the leaves upon the heads and
into the necks of all who chanced to pass that way.
Returning two paals toward the highway, we took a path through a
magnificent forest in a more easterly direction, for about the same
distance, to Ayar Sumpur, a brook where the coal again appears on its
sides and in its bed. The layers seen at Suban were not more than two or
three feet thick, but here they are from six to ten. Between this place
and Suban coal again outcrops on the banks of the Kamuning. In all these
places it is near the surface, being only covered with a few feet of
red clay. That at Ayar Sumpur appears decidedly better than that found
near Siboga.[57] From this place to where the coal could be taken down
the Bencoolen River is a distance of only four Java paals. From there
it could be transported to Bencoolen on bamboo rafts, the distance by
the river being twenty-six and a half paals. The enormous quantity found
here is estimated at over 200,000,000 cubic yards. The quantity and the
quality of this deposit will make it of value, in case the government
owning this part of the island should have its supply from Europe cut
off by a war, but the disadvantage of not having a good roadstead at
Bencoolen, where this coal could be taken on board vessels, renders it
doubtful whether it would be found profitable to work this mine, except
in case of great emergency, and then it might be found preferable to
bring it from Borneo. Coal is also found at Dusun Baru, in the district
of Palajou, on the banks of the Ketaun River, in the district of
Mokomoko, and again in the district of Indrapura. At all these places it
agrees in its mineral characteristics and outcrops very regularly at a
distance of about ten miles from the sea-coast. About five miles farther
inland, at Bukit Sunnur and at Suban, another and superior kind of coal
appears, which maybe somewhat older than the former. This latter coal
agrees in its mineral characteristics with that found a few miles east
of the lake of Sinkara. All the coal in the vicinity of Suban is near
the surface, sometimes only covered with four or five feet of red clay.
Any private company who would like to work this mine would receive every
assistance from the general and local governments.
On our return from Agar Sumpur we noticed the tracks of a rhinoceros,
tiger, and deer, which had all passed along that way last night. In the
path, from place to place, the natives had made pits eight or ten feet
long, and about three wide and five or six deep. Each was covered over
with sticks, on which dirt was laid, and dry leaves were scattered over
the whole so as to perfectly conceal all appearance of danger. It is so
nearly of the proportions of the rhinoceros, for whom it is made, and so
deep, and the clay in which it is made is so slippery, that he generally
fails to extricate himself, and the natives then dispatch him with their
spears. The Resident tells me that the natives have also killed elephants
by watching near a place where they come often to feed, and when one
is walking and partly sliding down a steep declivity they spring up
behind him and give a heavy blow with a cleaver on the after-part of the
hind-legs, six or eight inches above the foot, but that this dangerous
feat is very rarely attempted.
Reaching the main road, we soon arrived at Taba Pananjong. All the
kampongs in this region are small, frequently consisting of only eight
or ten houses, but they are all very neat and regularly arranged in one
row on each side of the road, which is usually bordered with a line of
cocoa-nut-trees. The natives are called Rejangs, and form a distinct
nation from the Malays of Menangkabau. They have an alphabet and language
peculiar to themselves, but belong to the same Malay race as all the
others in the island of Sumatra. In order that I might see them dance,
the Resident invited the rajah to come to the house of the _controleur_
in the evening and bring with him the “_anak gadis_,” literally “the
virgins,” of the village, but really the unmarried females. They were
all clad in a sarong, fastened high round the waist, and over the
shoulders was thrown a sort of scarf, which was so folded that one end
would hang down behind, between the shoulders. Their dance consisted in
little more than stretching both arms back until the backs of the hands
nearly touched each other, and holding the edges of the scarf between
the fingers. This peculiar figure they take in order to give their busts
the fullest appearance possible, and captivate some one of the young
men looking on. From this position they changed their hands to near the
shoulders, the arms being extended and the forearms being turned back
toward the head. The hands were then twisted round, with the wrist for a
pivot.
Several young men appeared quite charmed and eagerly joined in the dance.
The postures they assumed were quite similar. It is on such festive
occasions that marriage contracts are generally made. The price of a
bride, _jujur_, is fixed by the Dutch Government at twenty guilders,
eight Mexican dollars, that is, the parents cannot now recover more than
that sum for their daughter in case their son-in-law is unwilling to
pay a larger sum. When the English were here in the beginning of this
century, the _jujur_ was as high as a hundred or a hundred and twenty
dollars. Some of the “virgin children” I noticed had reached middle age,
but the rajah explained to me that no man is willing to part with his
daughters at a less price than the twenty guilders his neighbor receives
for each of his, for fear of appearing to acknowledge that he thought his
neighbor’s daughters were more fascinating than his own; and a young man,
being obliged to pay the same sum for any bride, of course chooses one
who, according to his fancy, possesses the greatest charms, and no one
who is not young is supposed to be charming.
Another common mode of marrying among these people is termed _umbil
anak_, “taking a child.” A father chooses a husband for his daughter and
takes the young man to live in his family. When this young man can pay
a certain sum to the father, he removes his wife and family to his own
house, but until that time he and his family are regarded as servants
or debtors. As tokens of their virginity, the anak gadis wear silver on
their forearms, and broad bands of silver on their wrists. In the Lampong
country to the south, instead of small, solid rings, they wear large
rings made of hollow tubes, sometimes in such a number as to cover both
arms from the wrist to the elbow. Here they occasionally have silver
chains on their necks, and in their ears ornaments somewhat similar
in form to those worn in the Menangkabau country, but much smaller,
and the part that passes through the ear is no larger than a quill.
These natives also make many fine imitations of fruit and flowers in
silver, like those of the Padang plateau. Their sarongs and scarfs they
manufacture themselves, and ornament very skilfully with figures and
leaves wrought in with silver-thread.
_April 20th._—Rode this morning from Taba Pananjong over the Barizan
or Coast Range, which here, as elsewhere, is generally higher than the
ranges parallel to it on the east, and therefore forms the water-shed
between the east and west coasts. The road had been well built, but was
extremely muddy and badly washed away in some places by the heavy rains
which have lately occurred in this vicinity. It is, however, sufficiently
good for the natives to use their _padatis_, or carts drawn by buffaloes,
but most of the men I met were carrying their produce to market on their
backs.
All the mountains are covered with a most dense forest, but the low
lands which spread from their bases to the sea appear quite unfertile,
especially when compared with the low lands of Java. The morning air was
still and clear, and troops of large black monkeys made the valleys and
ravines continually resound with their loud trumpeting. From the top of
the pass, which is from two thousand five hundred to three thousand feet
in height, a magnificent view is obtained, to the southwest, of the low
lands extending to Bencoolen, and also of Pulo Tikus in the distance,
and the heavy surf breaking on its coral reefs and sparkling brightly in
the sunshine. On the opposite or interior side of the chain was spread
out before me the lovely and highly fertile valley of the River Musi,
which takes its rise a little farther to the north. In the midst of this
valley was the kampong and Dutch post Kopaiyong. Beyond the valley rose
an active volcano, Mount Ulu Musi, with three peaks. The largest and the
oldest was quiet, and beyond it was a second and somewhat smaller cone,
evidently of a more recent origin than the former, but also inactive.
Beyond this cone was a third, yet smaller, from the top of which great
quantities of steam and other gases were ascending in dense volumes.
From this pass our descent was as rapid as our ascent had been on the
coast side, until we came down to the banks of the Musi, and the valley
in which the village of Kopaiyong is situated. The height of this plateau
above the sea is from fifteen to eighteen hundred feet. It is a complete
analogue of the plateau about the lake of Sinkara, and all the others
between the Barizan and its parallel chains to the northward. Its soil is
a fine, black loam. Its chief products are tobacco and coffee, which both
thrive here very well. This is considered, and no doubt rightly, a very
healthy place. There are no “wet or dry seasons,” as in Java, but showers
occur here every few days, generally in the afternoon. Although the
soil and climate of this valley are so favorable for the development of
civilization, yet the natives in all this region, until a few years ago,
only clothed themselves with the bark of trees. This plateau has lacked,
however, one inducement toward promoting industry and civilization which
that of Menangkabau possesses, and that is gold. In the coast region,
the houses of the natives have high, sharp roofs, and are covered with
atap, but here they are larger and lower; and the roofs are nearly flat,
and covered with bamboos split into halves and placed side by side, with
the concave side upward. Over the edges of these are placed other pieces
of bamboo, with the concave side downward. This is the only place in the
archipelago where I have seen this simple and easy mode of making a roof.
_April 24th._—Finding myself very ill from over-exertion during the
past two days, and that the next two days’ journeys must be long and
fatiguing, I rest here and enjoy the cool, refreshing air of Kopaiyong
for a day. The _controleur_ informs me that the volcanic cone northeast
of us was formed during an eruption which took place only a year ago, and
that, for some time previous to the eruption, heavy earthquakes occurred
here very frequently; but since the gases that were pent up beneath the
mountain have found a vent, only one earthquake has been experienced,
and that was very slight. This is the most active volcano I have seen.
A great quantity of white gas is now rising most grandly. At one moment
it appears like a great sheaf, and at the next instant slowly changes
into a perpendicular column, and this again becomes an immense inverted
cone, which seems supported in the sky by resting its apex on the summit
of the volcano beneath it. The whole amount of trade at this place in a
year amounts to one hundred thousand guilders (forty thousand dollars).
The traders are Chinamen, Arabs, and a few Dutchmen. They obtain from
the natives coffee and tobacco, and give them in return cotton goods,
knives, and various kinds of trinkets. The population of this region
appears to be only a small fraction of what it is on the Padang plateau;
if it were as large and industrious, the upper valley of the Musi would
soon be transformed into one great garden, and Bencoolen, to which its
products must be taken to be shipped abroad, would immediately become a
port of the first importance. I had seriously contemplated undertaking
the journey from Solok to this place, and if it had not been necessary
for me to return to Padang, I should have attempted it, notwithstanding
it would have been necessary to have travelled the whole distance on
foot, and to have met constant hinderances and annoyances from the
natives, who are extremely jealous of all foreigners. The distance from
Solok, in a straight line, is nearly two hundred geographical miles, but
by the zigzag and circuitous route which I would have been obliged to
take, it would have been nearly three hundred.
The house of the _controleur_ at this place is covered with an atap of
bamboo splints, made in the same way as the common atap of palm-leaves,
but it is much neater, and said to be far more durable.
_April 25th._—As there are no white people at the place where I am
to lodge to-night, the _controleur_ was so kind as to send a servant
yesterday with an ample supply of eatables, and orders to the rajahs on
the way to receive me kindly when I reached their respective villages.
At 6 A. M. started with a guide and a coolie for Kaban Agong, a distance
of nine paals in a southeasterly direction, along the Musi, which, in
this part of its course, is only a small stream with slight falls at
short distances. The valley south of Kopaiyong may be quite wide, but we
soon passed into such a dense jungle that I was unable to obtain any view
of the mountains on either hand. Kaban Agong is a small kampong of twenty
or twenty-five houses, and, except the two or three occasionally seen
near each other in the cleared places, or ladangs, the whole country is
an unbroken wilderness.
The houses of the village were quite regularly arranged in two rows, and
in the middle of the street between them is a small circular house, with
open sides, and seats around it for the coolies, who are travelling to
and fro, to stop and rest under a shelter from the sunshine. Here the
rajah received me, and brought such fruits as his people raised. The
coolie, who marched beside my horse, carried my Spencer’s breech-loader,
which I had been careful to have ready loaded and capped. It caused the
natives to manifest the greatest respect for us, especially when my
servants declared that I needed only to put it to my shoulder, pull the
trigger, and there would be a constant stream of bullets. From Kaban
Agong to Tanjong Agong (eight paals) we passed over a more open and hilly
country. The road here diverged from the left bank of the Musi, and took
a more easterly course. Here more sawas appeared, but the people are
in great poverty. Many of the hills are covered with the common rank
prairie-grass, which we saw covering large areas in the northwest part of
the Mandéling Valley, and in many other places.
In such open prairies the sun poured down a most scorching heat, and
even my Malay attendants complained bitterly; indeed, I find I can bear
such excessive heat better than they. From the tops of the low hills I
enjoyed fine views of the Barizan or coast chain. The outline of many
of its peaks shows that they were formerly eruptive cones, but now they
are more or less washed down or changed in form by rains and streams.
As we came near this village, Tanjong Agong, the road was filled with
the tracks and excrements of a herd of elephants that passed this way
yesterday or the day before. Two days ago two of these beasts came into
the sawas, near this place, and the natives succeeded in shooting one.
Tanjong Agong is a small village, of only eighteen or twenty small
houses, each of which is placed on posts six or eight feet high. A ladder
leads up to a landing, which is enclosed by a fence and a gate, to
prevent the tigers from entering their houses. The natives keep hens, and
would have dogs, but they are all destroyed by the tigers. These ravenous
beasts infest the whole region in such numbers, and are so daring, that
the rajah, who can speak Malay very well, assures me that, during last
year, _five_ of the people of this little village were torn to pieces by
them while working in the sawas, or while travelling to the neighboring
kampongs. No native here ever thinks of going even the shortest distance
by night, except when sent on the most urgent business; and it is chiefly
for this reason that I always commence my day’s journey so early.
The house in which I lodge is built of bamboo, and surrounded with a
paling of sharpened stakes, which also include the stable. It has lately
been built by order of the Dutch Government for the accommodation of any
official or other foreigner travelling in this country. Before the paling
was completed, the _controleur_ of the district visited this place, and
put his horse into the stable. At midnight he heard a loud howling and
neighing, and the natives shouting out to each other to come with their
arms. A tiger had come out of the adjoining forest, and had sprung upon
his horse from behind, and the natives were attacking him with their
lances. He lost his horse, but had the privilege of carrying away the
tiger’s skin. Those who complain of the scarcity of game ought to come
here. It is not by any means inaccessible, and both tigers and elephants
are exceedingly abundant.
_April 26th._—At 6½ A. M. continued on through a more open and somewhat
cultivated country. The Musi here makes a great bend to the southwest,
and the path leads eastward over a gently-rising elevation, on the top
of which is a large and most thriving coffee-garden, and near by are
rice-fields which yield abundantly. This garden has been very lately
planted, and yet all the trees that are old enough to bear are nearly
loaded down with fruit. The rice-fields show that an abundance of food
could be raised here, and the only thing that is wanting is people to do
the work. The elevated situation of this country makes it very healthy
for foreigners. If any one could obtain a grant of land here, and also
the privilege of bringing a large number of Chinamen, he would certainly
realize a fortune, for coffee can be here cultivated with little care,
and rice, the staple article of food among that people, can be raised in
any quantity. Such a privilege could not be obtained at present, but the
liberal tendency of the government of the Netherlands India promises that
it may be, at no distant time in the future. Such an enterprise would not
have the character of an experiment, for the facility with which coffee
and rice can be grown has already been shown on this plantation, and
the cost of transporting it to Padang or Palembang would be very light.
Sumatra undoubtedly contains large quantities of gold, but the true
source of her wealth is not the precious metal she possesses, but the
crops of coffee she produces.
From the top of this mountain I took my last view of the Barizan chain,
which had been constantly in sight since I passed through the Strait of
Sunda on my way to Padang. In the ladangs in this region the walls of the
huts of the natives are mostly made of bark. While coming down from this
low mountain-range, we had a splendid view up a valley to the southward,
and of the low but sharply-crested chain which limits on the south the
area drained by the Musi. At the foot of this elevation a stream courses
southward to the Musi, and on its banks are a native village, and a
Dutch post and fort. Here, as elsewhere, I rode up to the house of the
_controleur_, whom I had previously notified of my coming. He had gone a
number of miles southward, to the limit of his district and the Pasuma
country, where I now learned a war was going on. His good lady was at
home, and to my great surprise, welcomed me in pure English. To be able
to converse in the interior of Sumatra, in my native tongue, was indeed a
pleasure I had not anticipated. The distance from Tanjong Agong to this
place is eleven paals, about ten miles.
_April 27th._—Continued down the north bank of the Musi, which here
flows to the northwest. For three or four paals the path (for it cannot
properly be styled a road) was very narrow, and built on the steep side
of a mountain, at the foot of which the Musi boils in a series of rapids.
When within six or seven miles of Tebing Tingi, we found the valley
much broken, and soon it became flat, and changed in many places into
morasses. Here we came to a small stream, over which was a bamboo bridge,
supported by rattans fastened to the limbs of two high, overhanging
trees. This was so weak that my guide directed me to dismount and pass on
foot. At 2 A. M. we arrived at Tebing Tingi, where an assistant resident
is stationed, who received me politely, and urged me to remain with him
several days. Distance made to-day, seventeen paals. The whole distance
from Kopaiyong to this place, forty-five paals, I have travelled with the
single horse given me by the _controleur_ of that village. Such is the
generous manner in which the Dutch officials treat those who come to them
properly recommended by the higher authorities.
After crossing the Barizan chain, and coming down into this valley of the
Musi, I have noticed that the natives are of a lighter color, taller, and
more gracefully formed than those seen in the vicinity of Bencoolen.
The men always carry a kris or a lance when they go from one kampong to
another. The same laws and customs prevail here as in the vicinity of
Bencoolen, except that the jugur, or price of a bride, is considerably
higher. The anak gadis here also wear many rings of large silver wire on
the forearm, and gold beads on the wrist, in token of their virginity.
The Resident states to me that the native population does not appear to
increase in this region, and that the high price of the brides is the
chief reason. As the price is paid to the girl’s parents, and not to
herself, she has less inducement to conduct herself in accordance with
their wishes; and, to avoid the natural consequences of their habits,
the anak gadis are accustomed to take very large doses of pepper, which
is mixed with salt, in order to be swallowed more easily. Many are never
married, and most of those who are, bear but two or three children, after
they have subjected themselves to such severe treatment in their youth.
_April 27th._—Rode five or six paals up the Musi, and then crossed it
at the foot of a rapid on a “racket,” or raft of bamboo, the usual mode
of ferrying in this island. In the centre of the raft is a kind of
platform, where the passenger sits. One native stands at the bow, and
one at the stern, each having a long bamboo. The racket is then drawn
up close to the foot of the rapids, and a man keeps her head to the
stream, while the other pushes her over. As soon as she leaves the bank,
away she shoots down the current, despite the shouts and exertions of
both. We were carried down so swiftly, that I began to fear we should
come into another rapid, where our frail raft would have been washed to
pieces among the foaming rocks in a moment; but at last they succeeded
in stopping her, and we gained the opposite bank. Thence my guide took
me through a morass, which was covered with a dense jungle, an admirable
place for crocodiles, and they do not fail to frequent it in large
numbers; but the thousands of leeches formed a worse pest. In one place,
about a foot square, in the path, I think I saw as many as twenty, all
stretching and twisting themselves in every direction in search of prey.
They are small, being about an inch long, and a tenth of an inch in
diameter, before they gorge themselves with the blood of some unfortunate
animal that chances to pass. They tormented me in a most shocking manner.
Every ten or fifteen minutes I had to stop and rid myself of perfect
anklets of them.
I was in search of a coral-stone, which the natives of this region burn
for lime. My attendants, as well as myself, were so tormented with the
leeches, that we could not remain long in that region, but I saw it was
nothing but a raised reef, chiefly composed of comminuted coral, in which
were many large hemispherical meandrinas. The strata, where they could be
distinguished, were seen to be nearly horizontal. Large blocks of coral
are scattered about, just as on the present reefs, but the jungle was too
thick to travel in far, and, as soon as we had gathered a few shells, we
hurried to the Musi, and rode back seven miles in a heavy, drenching rain.
All the region we have been travelling in to-day abounds in
rhinoceroses, elephants, and deer. If the leeches attack them as they
did a dog that followed us, they must prove one of the most efficient
means of destroying those large animals. It is at least fortunate for the
elephant and rhinoceros that they are pachyderms. While passing through
the places where the jungle is mostly composed of bamboos, we saw several
large troops of small, slate-colored monkeys, and, among the taller
trees, troops of another species of a light-yellow color, with long arms
and long tails. On the morning that I left Tanjong Agong, as we passed a
tall tree by the roadside, the natives cautioned me to keep quiet, for it
was “full of monkeys,” and, when we were just under it, they all set up
a loud shout, and at once a whole troop sprang out of its high branches
like a flock of birds. Some came down twenty-five or thirty feet before
they struck on the tops of the small trees beneath them, and yet each
would recover, and go off through the jungle, with the speed of an arrow,
in a moment.
While nearly all animals have a particular area which they frequent—as
the low coast region, the plateaus of these tropical lands, or the higher
parts of the mountains—the rhinoceros lives indifferently anywhere
between the sea-shores and the tops of the highest peaks. This species
has two “horns,” the first being the longer and more sharply pointed,
but the Java species has only one. The natives here know nothing of
the frequent combats between these animals and elephants, that are so
frequently pictured in popular works on natural history. The Resident
has, however, told me of a combat between two other rivals of these
forests that is more remarkable. When he was _controleur_ at a small
post, a short distance north of this place, a native came to him one
morning, and asked, if he should find a dead tiger and bring its head,
whether he would receive the usual bounty given by the government. The
Resident assured him that he would, and the native then explained that
there had evidently been a battle between two tigers in the woods, near
his kampong, for all had heard their howls and cries, and they were
fighting so long that, he had no doubt, one was left dead on the spot. A
party at once began a hunt for the expected prize, and soon they found
the battle had not been between two tigers, as they had supposed, but
between a tiger and a bear, and that both were dead. The bear was still
hugging the tiger, and the tiger had reached round, and fastened his
teeth in the side of the bear’s neck. The natives then gathered some
rattan, wound it round them, just as they were, strung them to a long
bamboo, and brought them to the office of the Resident, who gave a full
account of this strange combat in his next official report.
These bears are popularly called “sun” bears, _Helarctos Malayanus_,
from their habit of basking in the hot sunshine, while other bears slink
away from the full light of day into some shady place. The Resident at
Bencoolen had a young cub that was very tame. Its fur was short, fine,
and glossy. It was entirely black, except a crescent-shaped spot of white
on its breast, which characterizes the species.
Governor Raffles, while at Bencoolen, also had a tame one, which was
very fond of mangostins, and only lost its good-nature when it came to
the table, and was not treated with champagne. When fully grown, it is
only four and a half feet long. It is herbivorous, and particularly fond
of the young leaves of the cocoa-nut palm, and is said to destroy many of
those valuable trees to gratify its appetite.
_April 30th._—At 6 A. M. commenced the last stage of my journey on
horseback. My course now was from Tebing Tingi, on the Musi, in a
southeasterly direction, to Lahat, the head of navigation on the
Limatang. The distance between these two places is about forty paals,
considerably farther than it would be from Tebing Tingi down the Musi to
the head of navigation on that river; but I prefer to take this route, in
order to learn something of the localities of coal on the Limatang and
its branches, and of the unexplored Pasuma country. We crossed the Musi
on a raft, and at once the road took us into a forest, which continued
with little interruption all the way to Bunga Mas, a distance of
twenty-four paals. Most of this forest rises out of a dense undergrowth,
in which the creeping stems and prickly leaves of rattans were seen.
These are various species of _Calamus_, a genus of palms that has small,
reed-like, trailing stems, which are in strange contrast to the erect and
rigid trunks of the cocoa-nut, the areca, the palmetto, and other palms.
It seems paradoxical to call this a palm, and the high, rigid bamboo a
species of grass. When they are growing, the stem is sheathed in the
bases of so many leaves that it is half an inch in diameter. When these
are stripped off, a smooth, reed-like stem of a straw-color is found
within, which becomes yellow as it dries. The first half-mile of the road
we travelled to-day was completely ploughed up by elephants which passed
along two days ago during a heavy rain. The piles of their excrements
were so numerous that it seems they use it as a stall. Every few moments
we came upon their tracks. In one place they had completely brushed away
the bridge over a small stream, where they went down to ford it; for,
though they always try to avail themselves of the cleared road when they
travel to and fro among these forests, they are too sagacious to trust
themselves on the frail bridges.
In the afternoon, the small boughs which they had lately broken off
became more numerous as we advanced, and their leaves were of a livelier
green. We were evidently near a herd, for leaves wilt in a short time
under this tropical sun. Soon after, we came into a thicker part of the
forest, where many tall trees threw out high, overarching branches, which
effectually shielded us from the scorching sun, while the dry leaves they
had shed quite covered the road.
Several natives had joined us, for they always travel in company through
fear of the tigers. While we were passing through the dark wood, suddenly
a heavy crashing began in the thick jungle about twenty paces from where
I was riding. A native, who was walking beside my horse with my rifle
capped and cocked, handed it to me in an instant, but the jungle was so
thick that it was impossible to see any thing, and I did not propose
to fire until I could see the forehead of my game. All set up a loud,
prolonged yell, and the beast slowly retreated, and allowed us to proceed
unmolested. The natives are not afraid of whole herds of elephants, but
they dislike to come near a single one. The larger and stronger males
sometimes drive off all their weaker rivals, which are apt to wreak their
vengeance on any one they chance to meet. Beyond this was a more open
country, and in the road were scattered many small trees that had been
torn up by a herd, apparently this very morning.
Although they are so abundant here in Sumatra, there are none found in
Java. They occur in large numbers on the Malay Peninsula, and there is
good reason to suppose they exist in the wild state in the northern parts
of Borneo. This is regarded as distinct from the Asiatic and African
species, and has been named _Elephas Sumatrensis_.
Three paals before we came to Bunga Mas, a heavy rain set in and
continued until we reached that place. Our road crossed a number of
streams that had their sources on the flanks of the mountains on our
right, and in a short time their torrents were so swollen that my horse
could scarcely ford them. Bunga Mas is a _dusun_, or village, on a cliff
by a small river which flows toward the north. Near the village is a
stockade fort, where we arrived at half-past six. The captain gave me
comfortable quarters, and I was truly thankful to escape the storm and
the tigers without, and to rest after more than twelve hours in the
saddle.
This evening the captain has shown me the skin of a large tiger, which,
a short time since, killed three natives in four nights at this place.
The village is surrounded by a stockade to keep out these ravenous
beasts, and the gate is guarded at night by a native armed with a musket.
One evening this tiger stole up behind the guard, sprang upon him, and,
as a native said who chanced to see it, killed him instantly with a blow
of her paw on the back of his neck. She then caught him up and ran away
with him. The next day the body was found partly eaten, and was buried
very deeply to keep it out of her reach. The second evening she seized
and carried off a native who was bathing in the stream at the foot of the
cliff. The captain now found he must try to destroy her, and therefore
loaded a musket with a very heavy charge of powder and two bullets. The
gun was then lashed firmly to a tree, and a large piece of fresh meat was
fastened to the muzzle, so that when she attempted to take it away she
would discharge the piece, and receive both bullets. The next morning
they found a piece of her tongue on the ground near the muzzle of the
gun, and the same trap was set again; but the next night she came back
and took away a second man on guard at the gate of the _dusun_. The
captain now started with a corporal and eight men, determined to hunt her
down. They tracked her to a place filled with tall grass, and closing
round that, slowly advanced, until two or three of them heard a growl,
when they all fired and killed her instantly. It proved to be a female,
and she had evidently been so daring for the purpose of procuring food
for her young.
_May 1st._—The rain continued through the night, and only cleared away
at daylight. In two hours I started, though I found myself ill from such
continued exertion and exposure to a burning sun and drenching rains,
and, more than all, from drinking so many different kinds of water in a
single day. I was accompanied by a soldier who was one of the eight who
went out to hunt the tiger that killed so many natives in such a short
time. He repeated to me all the details of the whole matter, and assured
me that a piece of the brute’s tongue was found on the ground just as the
captain said, and that, when they had secured her, they found that a part
of her tongue was gone.
We had not travelled more than half a mile before we came upon the tracks
of two tigers, a large one and a small one, probably a female and her
young, which had passed along the road in the same way we were going.
The perfect impressions left by their feet showed they had walked along
that road since the rain had ceased, and therefore not more than two
hours before us, and possibly not more than ten minutes. We expected to
see them at almost every turn in the road, and we all kept together and
proceeded with the greatest caution till the sun was high and it was
again scorching hot. At such times these dangerous beasts always retreat
into the cool jungle.
For eight paals from Bunga Mas the road was more hilly than it was
yesterday. In many places the sides of the little valley between the
ridges were so steep that steps were made in the slippery clay for the
natives, who always travel on foot. Seven paals out, we had a fine
view of the Pasuma country. It is a plateau which spreads out to the
southeast and east from the feet of the great Dempo, the highest and most
magnificent mountain in all this region. The lower part of this volcano
appeared in all its details, but thick clouds unfortunately concealed
its summit. Considerable quantities of opaque gases are said to have
poured out of its crater, but it does not appear to have undergone any
great eruption since the Dutch established themselves in this region. It
is the most southern and eastern of the many active volcanoes on this
island. Like the Mérapi in the Padang plateau, the Dempo does not rise
in the Barizan chain nor in one parallel to it, but in a transverse
range. Here there is no high chain parallel to the Barizan, as there is
at Kopaiyong, where the Musi takes its rise, and also north of Mount Ulu
Musi continuously through the Korinchi country all the way to the Batta
Lands. Another and a longer transverse elevation appears in the chain
which forms the boundary between this residency of Palembang and that
of Lampong, and which is the water-shed, extending in a northeasterly
direction from Lake Ranau to the Java Sea. The height of Mount Dempo has
been variously estimated at from ten thousand to twelve thousand feet,
but I judge that it is not higher than the Mérapi, and that its summit
therefore is not more than nine thousand five hundred feet above the
level of the sea.
The Pasuma plateau is undoubtedly the most densely-peopled area in this
part of the island. Its soil is described to me, by those who have seen
it, as exceedingly fertile, and quite like that of the Musi valley at
Kopaiyong, but the natives of that country were extremely poor, while
the Pasumas raise an abundance of rice and keep many fowls. During the
past few years they have raised potatoes and many sorts of European
vegetables, which they sold to the Dutch before the war began. The cause
of the present difficulty was a demand made by the Dutch Government that
the Pasuma chiefs should acknowledge its supremacy, which they have
all refused to do. The villages or fortified places of the Pasumas are
located on the tops of hills, and they fight with so much determination
that they have already repulsed the Dutch once from one of their forts
with a very considerable loss. No one, however, entertains a doubt of the
final result of this campaign, for their fortifications are poor defences
against the mortars and other ordnance of the Dutch.
Soon after the tracks of the two tigers disappeared, we came to a kind of
rude stockade fort, where a guard of native militia are stationed. The
paling, however, is more for a protection against the tigers than the
neighboring Pasumas. A number of the guard told me that they hear the
tigers howl here every night, and that frequently they come up on the
hill and walk round the paling, looking for a chance to enter; and I have
no doubt their assertions were entirely true, for when we had come to the
foot of the hill the whole road was covered with tracks. The natives,
who, from long experience, have remarkable skill in tracing these beasts,
said that three different ones had been there since the rain ceased; but
one who has not been accustomed to examine such tracks would have judged
that half a dozen tigers had passed that way. There are but a few native
houses here at a distance from the villages in the ladangs, and those are
all perched on posts twelve or fifteen feet high, and reached by a ladder
or notched stick, in order that those dwelling in them may be safer from
the tigers.
At noon we came down into a fertile valley surrounded with mountains
in the distance, and at 2 P. M. arrived at Lahat, a pretty native
village on the banks of the Limatang. The _controleur_ stationed here
received me politely, and engaged a boat to take me down the Limatang
to Palembang. The Limatang takes its rise up in the Pasuma country, and
Lahat, being at the head of navigation on this river, is an important
point. A strong fort has been built here, and is constantly garrisoned
with one or two companies of soldiers. One night while I was there, there
was a general alarm that a strong body of Pasumas had been discovered
reconnoitring the village, and immediately every possible preparation
was made to receive them. The cause of the alarm proved to be, that one
of the Javanese soldiers stationed outside the fort stated that he saw
two natives skulking in the shrubbery near him, and that he heard them
consulting whether it was best to attack him, because, as was true, his
gun was not loaded. The mode of attack that the Pasumas adopt is to send
forward a few of their braves to set fire to a village, while the main
body remains near by to make attack as soon as the confusion caused by
the fire begins. This is undoubtedly the safest and most effectual mode
of attacking a kampong, as the houses of the natives are mostly of
bamboo, and if there is a fresh breeze and one or two huts can be fired
to windward, the whole village will soon be in a blaze. Though this
seems to us a dastardly mode of warfare, the Pasumas are justly famed
for their high sense of honor, their bitterest enemy being safe when he
comes and intrusts himself entirely to their protection. When the Dutch
troops arrived here, an official, who had frequently been up into their
country, volunteered to visit the various kampongs and try to induce them
to submit, and in every place he was well received and all his wants
cared for, though none of the chiefs would, for a moment, entertain his
proposals.
My journey on horseback was finished. The distance by the route taken
from Bencoolen is about one hundred and twenty paals, or one hundred and
twelve miles, but I had travelled considerably farther to particular
localities that were off the direct route. I had chanced to make the
journey at just the right time of year. The road is good enough for
padatis and to transport light artillery. For most of the time a tall,
rank grass fills the whole road except a narrow footpath, but the
government obliges the natives living near this highway to cut off the
grass and repair the bridges once a year, and I chanced to begin my
journey just as most of this work was finished. The bridges are generally
made of bamboo, and can therefore be used for only a short time after
they are repaired. Indeed, in many places, they are frequently swept away
altogether, and are not rebuilt until the next year. From what I have
already recorded, those who glory in hunting dangerous game may conclude
that they cannot do better than to visit this part of Sumatra. To reach
it they should come from Singapore to Muntok on the island of Banca, and
thence over to Palembang, where the Resident of all this region resides,
and obtain from him letters to his sub-officers in this vicinity. From
Palembang they should come up the Musi and Limatang to Lahat, when they
will find themselves in a most magnificent and healthy country, and one
literally abounding in game.
[Illustration: SINGAPORE.]