Paris 1772.
[365] Labillardière’s “Voyage a la recherche de la Pérouse:” Paris
1800: tome I., p. 227.
In June of the following year, 1769, there sailed from Pondicherry an
expedition commanded by M. de Surville,[366] who was bound on some
enterprise with the object of which we are still to a great extent
unacquainted. It is, however, probable as we learn from Abbé
Rochon,[367] that some rumour of an island abounding in wealth and
inhabited by Jews, which was reported to have been lately seen by the
English seven hundred leagues west of Peru, had led to the fitting out
of this expedition. Not unlikely, stories of the wealth of the missing
islands of Mendana had been revived by the arrival in India of some ship
that had come upon them in her track across the Pacific; and the
reference to their being populated by Jews may be readily understood
when I allude to the fact that the form of the nose in one out of every
five Solomon Islanders, and in truth in many Papuans, gives the face
quite a Jewish cast. In October, 1769, Surville discovered and named
Port Praslin on the north-east coast of Isabel, which was the same
island of the Solomon Group that Mendana had first discovered two
hundred years before. Here he stayed eight days, during which time his
watering-parties came into lamentable conflict with the natives. Sailing
eastward from Port Praslin, he sighted the Gower Island of Carteret,
which he named Inattendue Island. Subsequently he reached Ulaua, which
he called, on account of the unfavourable weather which he experienced
in its vicinity, Ile de Contrarieté. The attempt to send a boat ashore
was the occasion of another unfortunate affray with the natives, who
were ultimately dispersed with grape-shot. It will be remembered that
just two centuries before, the Spaniards in the brigantine came into
conflict with these same islanders, and that they named their island La
Treguada in consequence of their supposed treachery (_vide anteâ_). In
the neighbourhood of Contrarieté, Surville sighted three small islands,
which he named Les Trois Sœurs (Las Tres Marias of the Spaniards), and
near them another island, which he called Ile du Golfe, the Ugi or Gulf
Island of the present chart. Sailing eastward, he apprehended from the
trend of the neighbouring St. Christoval coast that he would become
embayed; but his apprehensions were removed when he arrived at the
extremity of this land, which he named Cape Oriental, and the two
off-lying small islands of Santa Anna and Santa Catalina were called
Iles de la Délivrance in token of the danger from which he had
apparently been delivered. In total ignorance of the fact that he had
been cruising amongst the islands of the lost archipelago of Mendana,
Surville now directed his course for New Zealand; and on account of
sanguinary conflicts with the natives of Port Praslin and Contrarieté,
he named his discoveries Terre des Arsacides or Land of the Assassins.
[366] An account of this expedition is given in Fleurieu’s
“Discoveries of the French in 1768 and 1769 to the south-east of New
Guinea:” London, 1791.
[367] “Voyages à Madagascar et aux Indes Orientales:” Paris, 1791.
In 1781, Maurelle, the Spanish navigator, in command of the frigate
“Princesa,” during his voyage from Manilla to San Blas on the west coast
of Mexico,[368] came upon the Candelaria Shoals of Mendana, which lie
off the north coast of Isabel Island. I have shown on page 200 that
these Candelaria Shoals are no other than the Ontong Java of Tasman,
which was identified by M. Fleurieu[369] with the discovery of Maurelle.
To the south-east of these shoals the “Princesa” approached another,
which on account of the roaring of the sea was named El Roncador: this
has been erroneously identified with the Candelaria Shoals by M.
Fleurieu, and it is so named on the present Admiralty charts. Thus it
nearly fell to the lot of the Spanish nation to be amongst the first to
find the group they had originally discovered; but Maurelle was not
acquainted with his vicinity to the missing Isles of Salomon, and
turning the head of his ship eastward, he proceeded on his voyage.
[368] An account of this voyage is given in “Voyage de la Pérouse
autour du Monde,” par Milet-Mureau: London, 1799: vol. I., p. 201.
[369] “Discoveries of the French in 1768 and 1769,” etc.: pp. 179,
18 .
In July, 1788, Lieutenant Shortland, when returning to England from Port
Jackson in convoy of a fleet of transports, made the Solomon Group near
Cape Sydney on the south coast of St. Christoval. He skirted the south
side of the group until he arrived at Bougainville Straits, and received
the impression that he was coasting along an apparently continuous tract
of land, to which he gave the name of New Georgia. Passing through
Bougainville Straits, which, in ignorance of the discoveries of the
French navigator, he named after himself, Lieutenant Shortland continued
on his voyage. The names of the numerous headlands[370] on the south
side of the Solomon Group, bear witness in the present chart to the
accurate observations of the English navigator: and from him Mount
Lammas, the highest peak of Guadalcanar, received its name. Like
Bougainville and Surville, Shortland was not acquainted with the nature
of his discoveries.[371]
[370] Capes Philip, Henslow, Hunter, Satisfaction, etc.
[371] Shortland communicated with the natives of Simbo. An account
of this voyage is given in the “Voyage of Governor Phillip to Botany
Bay:” London, 1789.
It now remained for the geographers to avail themselves of the materials
placed at their disposal by the voyages of the French and English
navigators. M. Buache in a “Memoir on the Existence and Situation of
Solomon’s Islands,”[372] which was presented to the French Academy of
Sciences in 1781, deals with the discoveries of Carteret, Bougainville,
and Surville. The steps by which he arrived at the conclusion that the
groups of islands discovered by these navigators were not only one and
the same group, but that they were the long-lost Isles of Salomon of
Mendana, afford an instructive instance of how a patient and laborious
investigator, endowed with that gift of discrimination which M. Buache
employed with such laudable impartiality, may ultimately attain the
truth he seeks, invested though it be in clouds of mystery and
contradiction. Groping along through a maze of conflicting statements,
to which both navigators and geographers had in equal share contributed,
M. Buache finally emerged into the light of day, when he asserted in his
memoir that between the extreme point of New Guinea as fixed by
Bougainville and the position of Santa Cruz as determined by Carteret,
there was a space of 12½ degrees of longitude, in which the Islands of
Solomon ought to be found. In this space, as he proceeded to show, lay
the large group discovered by Bougainville and Surville which, he with
confidence asserted, would prove to be none other than the long-lost
islands of the Solomon Group.
[372] This memoir is given by Fleurieu in the appendix of his work.
But such a view of the character of the recent French discoveries in
these seas was received by English geographers with that spirit of
partiality from which the cause of geographical science has so
frequently suffered. Mr. Dalrymple in his “Historical Collection of
Voyages,” published in 1770, before he had become acquainted with the
discoveries of Carteret, Bougainville, and Surville, stated his
conviction that there was no room to doubt that what Mendana called
Salomon Islands in 1567, Dampier afterwards named New Britain in 1700.
In the introduction to the narrative of his second voyage round the
world, when he followed up Bougainville’s exploration of the Australia
del Espiritu Santo of Quiros,[373] Captain Cook supported this view. The
arguments, however, of M. Buache had no weight with Mr. Dalrymple, who
in 1790 re-stated his opinion that the Solomon Islands of the Spaniards
and the New Britain of Dampier were one and the same, and he referred to
the discoveries of Bougainville and Surville as showing no similitude in
form to the Solomon Islands of the old maps.[374]
[373] This group, which had been previously named by Bougainville,
L’Archipel des grandes Cyclades, was designated The New Hebrides by
Cook, a name which it retains on the present charts.
[374] “Nautical Memoirs of Alexander Dalrymple.”
But in the minds of French geographers there was little doubt as to the
correctness of the views of M. Buache. Amongst the detailed geographical
instructions given by Louis XVI. in 1785 to La Pérouse, when he was
setting out on his ill-fated expedition, was one which directed the
attention of this illustrious navigator to the examination of the
numerous islands of the Solomon Group, and especially to those which lay
between Guadalcanar and Malaita.[375] It was considered almost
indubitable, as M. Fleurieu informs us, that the intended exploration by
La Pérouse of this archipelago would convert probability into certainty.
But when in the vicinity of the islands he was never destined to behold,
La Pérouse experienced that mysterious fate which has excited sympathy
throughout the civilised world. On the reef-girt shores of Vanicoro his
ships were wrecked, and the French commander and his men were never seen
again by any Europeans. As Carlyle wrote, . . . “The brave navigator
goes, and returns not; the seekers search far seas for him in vain,
. . . . and only some mournful mysterious shadow of him hovers long in
all heads and hearts.”[376]
[375] “Voyage de la Pérouse,” rédigé par M. L. A. Milet-Mureau;
London, 1799.
[376] Carlyle’s “French Revolution,” ch. V., p. 37.
The ominous silence that had fallen over the doings of the absent
expedition, on account of the non-arrival of the long expected
dispatches, must have been, in a double sense, a cause of disappointment
to M. Fleurieu, who had hoped to demonstrate the correctness of the
views of the French geographers by the results of the explorations of La
Pérouse. It was with the object of showing that the New Georgia of
Shortland was one and the same with the Terre des Arsacides of Surville
and the Choiseul of Bougainville, and that the French and English
navigators had independently of each other discovered the lost Solomon
Group, that M. Fleurieu published in Paris in 1790 his “Découvertes des
François en 1768 et 1769 dans le sud-est de la Nouvelle Guinée.”[377]
“The desire of restoring to the French nation its own discoveries, which
an emulous and jealous neighbour has endeavoured to appropriate to
herself, induced us,” thus the author wrote in his preface to his work,
“to connect in one view, all those that we have made towards the
south-east of New Guinea; and particularly to prove, that the great
land, which Shortland imagined he discovered in 1788, and to which he
gave the name of New Georgia, is not a new land, but the southern coast
of the Archipelago of the Arsacides, the famous Islands of Solomon, one
part of which was discovered after two centuries by M. de Bougainville
in 1768, and another more considerable by M. de Surville in 1769.” I
need not refer to the detailed arguments of this learned geographical
writer. Under his arguments, Surville’s appellation of Terre des
Arsacides and Shortland’s of New Georgia,[378] finally gave place to the
original title given by the Spanish navigator. “It was the work of M. de
Fleurieu,” thus writes Krusenstern,[379] the Russian voyager and
hydrographer, “that removed once and for all any doubt that might have
been held about the identity of the discoveries of Bougainville,
Surville, and Shortland, with the Solomon Islands.” Another illustrious
navigator, Dumont D’Urville,[380] thus alludes to the successful labours
of his countrymen, . . . “Le laborieux Buache et l’habile Fleurieu
travaillèrent tour à tour à établir cette identité qui, depuis, est
devenue un fait acquis à la science géographique; les îles relevées par
Surville et par Bougainville sont réellement l’archipel Salomon de
Mindana.” Thus the lost archipelago was found, not so much by the
fortuitous course of the navigator as by the patient investigations of
the geographer in his study. The result is intrinsically of little
importance to the world at large; but, as an example of the success of a
laborious yet discriminate research, it may afford encouragement to all
who endeavour to add something to the sum of knowledge.
[377] English translation published in London in 1791.
[378] The designation of New Georgia has been retained in the modern
charts for that portion of the group which is known as Rubiana.
[379] “Recueil de Mémoires Hydrographiques,” St. Petersburgh, 1824.
Part I., p. 157.
[380] “Histoire Générale des Voyages,” Paris, 1859; p. 228.
I will now refer briefly to the voyagers who subsequently visited this
group, after its identity had become established. In May 1790,
Lieutenant Ball,[381] in the “Supply,” when on his voyage to England
from Port Jackson _via_ Batavia, made the eastern extremity of the
Solomon Islands. He sailed along the north side of the group until
opposite the middle of Malaita, when he headed more to the eastward and
clear of the land. He correctly surmised that he was sailing along the
New Georgia of Shortland, but on the opposite side of it: though he
looked upon the islands of Santa Anna, Santa Catalina, and Ulaua as his
own discoveries, and he named them respectively Sirius’s Island,
Massey’s Island, and Smith’s Island. In December 1791, Captain Bowen of
the ship “Albemarle,” during his voyage from Port Jackson to Bombay,
sailed along the coast of New Georgia, and reported that he had seen the
floating wreck of one of the vessels of La Pérouse; but this report was
discredited by Captain Dillon in the narrative of his search after the
missing expedition.[382] In 1792, Captain Manning,[383] of the
Honourable East India Company’s Service, during his voyage from Port
Jackson to Batavia in the ship “Pitt,” made the south coast of the
Solomon Group off Cape Sidney, which was the headland first sighted by
Lieutenant Shortland. Sailing westward, he imagined St. Christoval and
Guadalcanar were continuous, and he thus delineates their coasts in his
track-chart much as Shortland did. The Russell Islands he named
Macaulay’s Archipelago, a name which ought to be retained as a
compliment to their discoverer. He then passed between Rubiana and
Isabel, naming the high land of the latter island Keate’s Mountains.
Passing through the strait between Choiseul and Isabel, which bears his
name, Captain Manning proceeded northward on his voyage.
[381] _Vide_ “An Historical Journal,” &c., by Capt. John Hunter.
London, 1793; pp. 417-419.
[382] “Voyage in search of La Pérouse’s Expedition.” London, 1829.
[383] “Chart of the track and discoveries of the ship ‘Pitt,’ Capt.
Edward Manning, on the western coast of the Solomon Islands in
1792.”
At this time, a French expedition, under Admiral Dentrecasteaux, was
cruising in the same part of the Pacific with the object of ascertaining
the fate of La Pérouse. Amongst the instructions embodied in a “Mémoire
du Roi,” which were given to the French admiral, was the following one
referring to the Solomon Islands: . . “Qu’il s’occupe à détailler cet
archipel, dont il est d’autant plus intéressant d’acquérir une
connoissance parfaite, qu’on peut avec raison le regarder comme une
découverte des François, puisqu’il étoit resté ignoré et inconnu pendant
les deux siècles qui s’étoient écoulés depuis que les Espagnols en
avoient fait la première decouverte.”[384] In July 1792, when on his way
from New Caledonia to Carteret Harbour in New Ireland, in prosecution of
his search for the missing expedition, Dentrecasteaux made the Eddystone
Rock which had been thus named by Shortland, and passing by Treasury
Island, he skirted the west coast of Bougainville and Bouka. In May of
the following year, when on the passage from Santa Cruz to the Louisiade
Archipelago, the expedition sailed along the south coast of the Solomon
Islands as far as Rubiana. Passing between St. Christoval and
Guadalcanar, Dentrecasteaux sailed close to the island of Contrarieté
and communicated with the natives. Whilst one of his ships lay off the
north-west part of St. Christoval, the natives of Gulf Island (Ugi)
discharged a flight of arrows from their canoes and wounded one of the
crew. It is satisfactory to learn that her commander contented himself
with firing a musket and discharging a rocket at them without effect,
and that no other retaliatory measures were taken to intercept them in
their flight. Turning back on his course, the French admiral was almost
tempted to explore the group of islands between Guadalcanar and Malaita,
to which the work of Fleurieu had directed his attention, and had he
done so, he would have cleared up the confusion with which the vague
description of Figueroa has surrounded these islands; but his
instructions and the object of his voyage led him along the south coast
of Guadalcanar on his way to the Louisiade Archipelago.
[384] “Voyage de Dentrecasteaux,” rédigé par M. de Rossel. Paris,
1808; tom. i., p. xxxiii.
To the voyagers who visited this group during the first half of the
present century, I can only briefly allude. The Solomon Islands were
seldom visited during the early portion of it, except, perhaps, by
occasional trading-ships whose experiences have rarely been made known,
a loss which may not be a subject for our regret. However, in March,
1834, there sailed from New York the clipper “Margaret Oakley,” bound on
a trading and exploring voyage in the South Pacific.[385] She was
commanded by Captain Morrell, who was accompanied by a young American,
named Jacobs, to whom we are indebted for a very singular narrative of
the cruise, which, for private reasons, was not published till 1844.
Into the extremely questionable proceedings of Captain Morrell,[386] in
his dealings with the natives during his sojournings in the Western
Pacific, I need not here enter. It will be sufficient for me to remark
that they had better have been buried in the oblivion which is most
fitting for such deeds of heartless cruelty. Mr. Jacobs, in his attempt
to describe the discoveries of the voyage with which we are more
particularly concerned, exercises an amusing freedom in dealing with the
explorations of the famous early navigators in this region. Instead of
adding to our knowledge of these seas, by his presumption, he has thrown
discredit on the whole of his narrative; and it is only by the insertion
in his account of a rude sketch-map of New Guinea and the islands
south-east of it that he has rescued his narrative from utter confusion.
There we see, that by Bidera he means New Britain; by Emeno, New
Ireland; Bougainville is honoured by the retention of his name for the
large island which he discovered; whilst the other large land-masses of
the Solomon Group would have had their identities hopelessly lost in the
narrative under the appellations of Baropee, Soterimba, and Cambendo,
had it not been for the rude map attached. References to dates are
systematically avoided by Mr. Jacobs; however, it would appear that
probably, in 1835 or 1836, they extended their cruise to the islands of
the Solomon Group. Coasting along the west side of Bougainville Island,
they sailed through the straits of that name, and skirting the north
coasts of Choiseul (Baropee) and Isabel (Soterimba), they turned Cape
Prieto and steered S. by E. Sailing by a singular rock like a ship under
sail (the Two Tree Islet of the chart), their course lay through
beautiful verdant islands; and then passing a volcanic island with steam
issuing from the crater on its summit (the Sesarga of the Spaniards and
the Savo of the present day), the lofty lands of Cambendo (Guadalcanar)
appeared in view. Coasting westward, along the north side of
Guadalcanar, they were visited by Tarlaro, the King(?) of Cambendo, who
was accompanied by a great number of natives. On the following day, they
visited a large village, where they were friendly received; and shortly
afterwards they left the group, steering southward and passing Rennell
Island.
[385] “Scenes, Incidents, and Adventures in the Pacific Ocean.” By
T. J. Jacobs. New York, 1844.
[386] When Dumont D’Urville was in London, shortly before he started
on his last voyage, he was asked his opinion of Morrell with
reference to his cruises in the high southern latitudes. His reply
was that he was already acquainted with him as “un fabricateur du
contes.” (“Voyage au Pole Sud.” 1837-1840. Introduction, p. lxvii.)
In November, 1838, Dumont D’Urville,[387] the French navigator, sighted
the Solomon Group, in his passage westward from Santa Cruz. Coasting
along the north side of St. Christoval and the south side of Malaita, he
recognised in Surville’s Terre des Arsacides the Malaita of the
Spaniards. He then set himself to work to clear up the difficulty with
reference to the position of the islands named by the Spaniards, Galera,
Florida, Buena Vista, Sesarga, &c., islands which had never been since
explored, but he ultimately contented himself with viewing these islands
from off the north coast of Buena Vista. After endeavouring imperfectly
to identify them with the description of their first discoverers, he
anchored in Thousand Ships Bay, which was originally discovered by
Gallego and Ortega; and he named his anchorage Astrolabe Harbour, after
one of his ships. From the circumstance that the natives, who came off
to the ships, made use of such expressions as “veri gout,” “captain,”
“manoa” (man of war), D’Urville concluded that they had recently been
visited by other voyagers.[388] Leaving Thousand Ships Bay, he sailed
along the south coast of Isabel, and passing through Manning Strait, he
skirted the north side of Choiseul and Bougainville Islands and then
left the group.
[387] “Voyage au Pole Sud et dans l’Océanie.” 1837-40. Paris, 1841.
[388] According to his narrative, Jacobs, in the “Margaret Oakley,”
anchored in the vicinity of Thousand Ships Bay, two or three years
(?) before the visit of D’Urville.
Dumont D’Urville was the last of the French navigators to whom the
re-discovery and exploration of the Solomon Islands are in the main due.
A singular fatality seems to have attended the careers of nearly all the
French commanders who visited these seas. With the exception of
Bougainville, who lived to superintend, in 1804, the fitting out of the
flotilla, at Boulogne, for the invasion of England, all died during the
voyage or shortly after their return. Surville was drowned on his
arrival at Peru. La Pérouse met with his untimely fate at Vanikoro, and
neither of the two commanders of the expedition that was sent in search
of him survived the voyage; Dentrecasteaux died from scurvy off New
Britain, and Huon Kermadec died before the ships left New Caledonia.
Lastly, D’Urville was killed in a railway accident at Paris, whilst
engaged in the completion of the narrative of his expedition.
In July, 1840, Captain Sir Edward Belcher,[389] whilst on his voyage to
New Ireland, in H.M.S. “Sulphur,” made the south coast of Guadalcanar;
but after looking in vain for an anchorage, he continued his course. In
1844, Capt. Andrew Cheyne, in the trading-schooner “Naiad,” visited
Simbo Island and the neighbouring islands. We are indebted to him for
much information concerning this part of the group.[390] About 1847,
Monsignor Epalle, a French Roman Catholic Bishop, was landed, with
eighteen priests, on the island of Isabel, for the purpose of founding a
mission. On first landing, the bishop strayed from the rest of the party
and received his death-blow at the hands of the natives, who are
supposed to have been tempted by his dress and ornaments. In April of
1847, three French missionaries, living at Makira, were murdered by the
hill-tribes of St. Christoval; and in March of the following year, M.
Dutaillis,[391] in command of the French corvette “L’Ariane,” anchored
at Makira, and sent an expedition into the interior by which the
villages of the murderers were destroyed and many of the natives killed
and wounded.
[389] “Narrative of a Voyage round the World in H.M.S. ‘Sulphur:’”
vol. II., p. 70.
[390] “A Description of Islands in the Western Pacific Ocean.”
London, 1852.
[391] “Annales Hydrographiques;” tome I. 1848-49. “Last Cruise of
the ‘Wanderer,’” by John Webster, p. 73.
In September, 1851, the ill-fated yacht “Wanderer,”[392] with her owner,
Mr. Benjamin Boyd, on board, visited the Solomon Group. Cruising along
the south coast of St. Christoval, the yacht put into Makira, where she
lay at anchor nearly three weeks. Friendly intercourse was established
with the inhabitants and frequent shooting excursions were made into the
interior. Mr. Boyd thought so highly of the advantages of Makira and its
harbour, that he intended to return there with the intention of entering
into a treaty with the principal natives of the locality for the purpose
of acquiring it for future commercial purposes. However, the careers,
both of the yacht and of its owner, were drawing to a close. From
Makira, they proceeded to Guadalcanar. Leaving his vessel anchored in
Wanderer Bay, as it has since been named, Mr. Boyd landed with his gun,
accompanied by a native of Panapa. Neither of them were ever seen again;
and they appear to have met with their deaths at the hands of the
natives soon after landing. A great number of the natives attacked the
yacht, but they were repulsed by the crew of the “Wanderer” with
grape-shot and musketry. An ineffectual search was made for Mr. Boyd and
his companion: and before the yacht left the locality, round and
grape-shot were poured into the villages, canoes and houses were burned,
and probably a large number of natives were killed and injured. The
“Wanderer” now left the group; and in the following month she was
totally lost on the bar of Port Macquarie on the Australian coast.
[392] “Last Cruise of the ‘Wanderer.’” By John Webster.
In 1854, there were rumours in Sydney, that Mr. Boyd was still alive and
that his initials had been seen carved on trees in Guadalcanar. A skull,
which had been bought from a chief by the captain of a trading-ship as
that of Mr. Boyd, proved, on examination, to belong to a Papuan.
However, in December of this year, Captain Denham, in H.M.S. “Herald,”
visited the scene of the tragedy; and after making inquiry into the
matter, he came to the opinion that the unfortunate owner of the
“Wanderer” had been killed directly after he landed, and that the
various stories current respecting his being alive were inventions of
the natives.
I now bring to a close this short sketch of the history of the Solomon
Group since its identity was established by the French geographers
towards the end of the last century. During the last thirty years there
has been greatly increased intercourse with the natives of these
islands; the Melanesian Mission has firmly established itself; numerous
traders have resided in the more friendly districts; and the visits of
men-of-war and trading-ships have been very frequent. But this increased
intercourse with the outer world of savage peoples, who can with
difficulty distinguish between a stranger and a foe, has been
accompanied, as we might naturally have expected, by many tragic
episodes, some of which we can deplore, most of which we can only
reflect upon with mingled feelings of shame and regret. The reprisals on
the part of men-of-war have not been always satisfactory in their
results; and the effect of the labour-traffic has been to undermine the
confidence which the missionary and well-intentioned trader have been
long endeavouring to create. The quiet heroism of the members of the
Melanesian Mission, under circumstances often the most dispiriting and
insecure, it would ill become me to praise. It will be sufficient,
however, to remark that it has been the only redeeming feature in the
intercourse of the white man with these islanders during the last
twenty-five years.
GEOGRAPHICAL APPENDIX.
NOTE I.
THE ACCOUNTS OF GALLEGO AND FIGUEROA COMPARED.--On carefully
comparing these two accounts, I have no doubt that Figueroa derived
almost all his information from the journal of Gallego. He, to a
great extent, employs his own phraseology; but in the descriptions
of the islands and of the natives, the words and expressions
employed are often identical, and the mode and order of description
are evidently supplied by the journal of Gallego. An indirect proof
of the source, whence Figueroa drew his materials, is to be found in
the circumstance that, after the two vessels were separated during
the voyage back to Peru, he confines his account to the experiences
of the “Capitana,” which was Gallego’s vessel; and here his account
is substantially a condensed form of Gallego’s journal which is
occasionally quoted literally. Figueroa, however, does not inform us
of the source of his information; and he has evidently, in some
measure, endeavoured to infuse his own method of expression into the
account. There are not wanting proofs, however, that he was assisted
from other sources, but only in a small degree. For instance, he
occasionally intercalates a circumstance to which Gallego does not
allude; and he varies in the accounts of the conflicts with the
natives: thus he refers to some of the Spaniards having died at
Estrella Harbour, to there being a foot and a half of water in the
hold of one of the ships during the return voyage, to the ships
being heaved-down at St. Christoval, and to a few other similar
occurrences unrecorded by Gallego. The account of Figueroa differs
in the date of the year of the voyage. It contains only a bare
reference to the cruise of the brigantine to St. Christoval and its
adjacent islands, whilst the vessels lay at the Puerto de la Cruz on
the coast of Guadalcanar. It is from this cause that the names of
all the islands visited and named during this cruise of the
brigantine are not given in Figueroa’s account. Herrera, however, in
his short description of these islands, gives a full list of the
names of the islands, and, in this respect, his description is
superior to that of Figueroa.
NOTE II.
DISCREPANCIES IN THE DATES OF THE YEARS.--There is a strange
discrepancy in the dates of the years during which this expedition
was away from Peru. The year 1566, is given on the title-page of the
British Museum copy of Gallego’s Journal; and the author expressly
states that the expedition left Callao on November 19th, 1566; he
carries this year on, naming the following year, 1567; but in August
he gives the year as 1568, and makes the return to Peru to be in
1569. It is evident from the narrative that the ships were absent
from Peru about nineteen months, from November of one year to June
of the second ensuing year; and it is highly probable that the year
of their departure was 1566, and that of their return 1568. . . .
Figueroa differs strangely in the dates he gives.[393] In the first
line of his account he says that the ships were dispatched in 1567;
and in the succeeding paragraph he gives January 10, 1568, as the
date of their departure from Callao, thus being quite at variance
with Gallego, both as regards the day, the month, and the year. The
ships reached the coast of Mexico on their return voyage in January
1568, according to Figueroa. From this inconsistency it may be
inferred, that 1567 was intended as the date of the departure from
Peru. . . . Herrera,[394] in his description of these islands,
states that they were discovered in 1567, which accords with the
narrative of Gallego. . . . Arias[395] in a memorial addressed to
Philip III. of Spain, says that Mendana discovered San Christoval in
1565; but his account is both short and confused, and was evidently
not derived from original sources. . . . Notwithstanding the
conflicting character of the dates, the probable dates would appear
to be as follows.--The ships left Peru on November 19th, 1566,
discovered the Isles of Salomon on February 7th, 1567, and arrived
at Peru on June 19th, 1568.
[393] “Hechos de Don Garcia H. de Mendoza,” por el Doctor Christoval
S. de Figueroa. Madrid, 1613.
[394] “Descripcion de las Indias Occidentales.” (Madrid, about
1601.)
[395] “Early Voyages to Terra Australis,” by R. H. Major (p. 1).
Hakluyt Society, 1859.
NOTE III. (Page 199.)
THE ISLE OF JESUS.--Burney[396] estimated the longitude of this
island to be 172° 30′ East of Greenwich; Krusenstern,[397] on surer
grounds, fixed it at 171° 30′: but both estimates were based on an
erroneous longitude of the Candelaria Shoals. . . . I have shown in
note iv. that these shoals are probably identical, not with the
Roncador Reef as is implied in the present charts, but with the
islands of Ontong Java, to the northward; however, this correction
affects but little the question of longitude. Taking the longitude
of the centre of Ontong Java at about 159° 30′ E. (in lat. 5° 25′
S.), the longitude of the Isle of Jesus, 167 Spanish leagues to the
eastward (in lat. 6° 45′ S.), would be about 169° E. The only island
shown on the present charts in the vicinity of this position is
Kennedy Island, also called Motuiti, the existence of which is
stated to be doubtful. Its position, as determined by the “Nautilus”
in 1801, was 8° 36′ S. 167° 50′ E.[398] However, in 1883, the German
war-vessel “Carola” failed to find it in this position in the chart,
and the initials _E. D._ are there attached to the name. The
difficulty may, I think, be explained by the existence in this
region of some atoll of no great size, the position of which has
been never correctly determined. It would appear that a similar view
is held by Captain Wharton, the present Hydrographer, since in the
Sailing Directions for these seas issued in 1885, the island is
still given prominent mention.[399] Not improbably the missing
island will be found between the 6th and 7th parallels, and near the
position assigned to the Isle of Jesus.
[396] “Chronological History of Vovages and Discoveries in the South
Sea.” Vol. I. p. 289. London, 1803.
[397] “Recueil de Mémoires Hydrographiques.” St. Petersburg, 1824.
[398] Findlay’s “Directory of the Pacific Ocean.” Part II 999.
(London, 1851.)
[399] “Pacific Islands.” Vol. I. p. 50. (Western Groups.) 1885.
Herrera gives the name of another island, “El Nombre de Dios,” which
is said by him to lie in 7° S. lat., and to be 50 leagues distant
from Santa Anna; Gallego does not refer to any island with this
name; and since Herrera makes no reference to the Isle of Jesus, it
is possible that this isle may be here alluded to, as its latitude
corresponds somewhat with that of “El Nombre de Dios.” M.
Fleurieu[400] identifies this island, however, not with the Isle of
Jesus, but with an island off the north end of Malaita which was
named Gower I. by Captain Carteret in 1767, and Inattendue I. by M.
Surville, in 1769.
[400] “Discoveries of the French, 1768-1769, to the S. E. of New
Guinea,” p. 181. (London, 1791).
NOTE IV. (Page 199.)
THE CANDELARIA SHOALS.--The shoals were identified by Fleurieu with
the Roncador Reef discovered by Maurelle in 1781; and Krusenstern
subsequently confirmed this opinion. Gallego, however, describes
shoals trending N.E. and S.W. for more than fifteen leagues, which
cannot possibly be the Roncador Reef of the present chart, which is
not more than six miles across. These Candelaria Shoals, on the
other hand, correspond in their size with the large atoll of Ontong
Java lying about 35 miles to the north of the Roncador Reef, and
being about 50 miles in width. The apparent difference in latitude
between Ontong Java, which lies in about 5° 25′ S., and the
Candelaria Shoals of Gallego, which were placed by him in 6° 15′ S.,
may be explained by the circumstance that the majority of Gallego’s
observations of latitude in the Solomon Group were about two-thirds
of a degree in excess of the true latitude.[401] By making this
correction, the latitude of Ontong Java and of the Candelaria Shoals
will be found to closely approximate. The bearing and distance of
the Candelaria Shoals from the west end of Malaita (as given by
Gallego on p. 205) and from Estrella Harbour (as given on p. 202) go
to support my view that the Candelaria Shoals of Gallego and the
Ontong Java of Tasman are one and the same.
[401] _Vide_ Note V. of Geographical Appendix.
NOTE V.
THE LATITUDES OF GALLEGO IN THE SOLOMON GROUP.--On making fourteen
comparisons of the latitudes obtained by Gallego with the latitudes
of the same places in the most recent Admiralty charts, places about
which there can be no doubt as to their identity, I find that all
but two are in excess of the true latitude. The excess varies
between 11′ and 1° 7′ (about); and since seven of the twelve
latitudes vary between 38′ and 46′ in excess, we may take 40′ _plus_
as about the probable and average prevailing error of Gallego’s
observations of latitude in this group. A constant error points to
some constant defect of observation; whether it may be instrumental
or otherwise, I must leave to the judgment of my nautical readers.
. . . . It may be inferred from his journal that Gallego did not
endeavour to make his latitudes by observation accord with his
bearings, as they are so often at variance. This circumstance should
be borne in mind in order to explain the discrepancies that occur.
NOTE VI. (Page 206.)
THE ISLE OF RAMOS AND THE ISLAND OF MALAITA.--On referring to the
account of Figueroa in the original Spanish, I find that, like
Gallego, he applies the name of Ramos to Malaita. Pingré, who
published a translation of Figueroa’s account in 1767 at Paris,[402]
associates the two names together. Dalrymple[403] in his
translation, published in 1770, laid the ground for future
misconception, by so pointing the sentence that the name of Ramos
might be taken as intended for one of the “two islets” in the middle
of the passage between Malaita and Isabel. Fleurieu,[404] in his
translation of Figueroa published in Paris in 1790, applies the name
of Ramos to Malaita. Burney,[405] in his version (1803), apparently
applies this name to one of the islets above referred to. The
authority of Dalrymple and Burney would appear to supply an
explanation of the circumstance that in the present Admiralty charts
this name of Ramos is applied to an islet between Malaita and
Isabel; but Dalrymple’s version is susceptible of two meanings, and
may be urged with equal justice on either side. Gallego and Figueroa
both apply the two names to the same island; so that circumstance
alone is sufficient to justify the restoration to Malaita of the
Spanish name of “The Isle of Ramos.” The original cause of the
mistake is to be attributed to the first discoverers, who gave their
own name and were not content with the native name. Herrera[406] has
fallen into the opposite error, since, in distinguishing between
Malaita and Ramos, he gives the latter a circuit of 200 leagues.
[402] “Mémoire sur le choix et l’état des lieux où le passage de
Vénus du 3 Juin, 1769.” (Paris, 1767.)
[403] “Hist. Coll. of Voy. and Discov.,” London, 1770.
[404] “Discoveries of the French in 1768 and 1769.”
[405] “Chronol. Hist. Voy and Discov.,” vol. i.
[406] “Descripcion de las Indias Occidentales.”
NOTE VII. (Pages 207-209.)
THE ISLANDS BETWEEN CAPE PRIETO AND GUADALCANAR.--These islands
which occupied the attention of Fleurieu and Burney, and excited the
curiosity of Dentrecasteaux, and which D’Urville had intended to
have completely explored, have long baffled the efforts of
geographical writers, who have endeavoured to identify them with the
islands mentioned by Figueroa in his brief account of Mendana’s
discoveries in this region. His description is evidently derived
from that of Gallego, of which it is but an imperfect and erroneous
extract: and I will therefore disregard it. The island of Galera is
apparently a small island, not named in the present chart, which
lies close to the north-west coast of Buena Vista. The neighbouring
large island, a league distant, to which Gallego only applies the
native name of Pela,[407] is, as I apprehend, the Buena Vista of the
present chart: the Buena Vista of the Spaniards is apparently an
island, not named in the chart, which lies west of the present
Sandfly Passage. The remaining four of the five islands may be in
the future identified with the incompletely surveyed intersected
mass of land to which the general name of Florida is applied in the
present chart. The island of Sesarga is without doubt the volcanic
island of Savo: but I must refer the reader elsewhere for further
information on this subject of Sesarga.[408]
[407] At the present day the whole of the Florida sub-group is known
to the natives as Gela. (Codrington’s “Melanesian Languages,” p.
522.)
[408] The evidence is given in my volume of Geological
Observations.
NOTE VIII. (Page 220.)
THE EXCESSIVE DIMENSIONS OF GUADALCANAR.--How could such
misconceptions have arisen? They are totally inconsistent with the
rest of the journal; and to such statements must be attributed the
exaggerated reports which long prevailed with reference to the size
of this island. The lengths of the islands of Isabel, Malaita, and
St. Christoval, as given by Gallego, are greatly overstated; in the
case of the two former islands they are at least double the true
dimensions, and they completely disagree with the latitudes and
bearing, which are noted in the journal.
NOTE IX. (Page 233.)
THE CONSULTATION AS TO THE FUTURE COURSE OF THE EXPEDITION.--The
ignorance in which Mendana seems to have kept his officers with
regard to the character of his instructions considerably hampered
the captains and pilots in their consultation. We learn subsequently
(page 237) that it was originally intended to prosecute the voyage
westward in order to explore the extensive lands that lay in that
direction. However, the protest made by the crews seems to have
caused a change of plans. They were to steer northward for the Isle
of Jesus, where Gallego apparently expected to find more land, as
they provided themselves with natives as interpreters (page 233)
before quitting the group. This northerly course found favour, when
Gallego pointed out that it was on the track of their return voyage.
NOTE X. (Page 234.)
ISLANDS IN THE SOLOMON GROUP WHICH DO NOT AT PRESENT BEAR THE NAMES
GIVEN TO THEM BY THE SPANIARDS:--
Present name. Spanish name.
Ugi San Juan
Three Sisters Las Tres Marias
Ulaua (Contrarieté) La Treguada
Malaita Ramos (Isle of)
Savo Sesarga
Ontong Java Candelaria Shoals
Choiseul San Marcos
New Georgia (?) { San Nicolas
{ Arracises (Reefs).
NOTE XI. (Page 237.)
INIGO ORTEZ DE RETES AND BERNARDO DE LA TORRE.--We learn from
Galvano’s “Discoveries of the World,”[409] that in 1545 Captain
Inigo Ortez de Rotha was dispatched from Tidore to New Spain. He
sailed to the coast of Papua, and not knowing that Saavedra had
discovered it in 1528, he assumed the honour of the discovery. Mr.
Coutts Trotter in a recent article[410] refers to him as Ortiz de
Retez or Roda, and he informs us elsewhere[411] that Antonio de
Abreu was probably the first discoverer of New Guinea in 1511.
According to Galvano (page 234), a Spanish officer named Bernaldo de
la Torre started from the Philippines in 1543, on a voyage to New
Spain.
[409] Hakluyt Society’s Publication, 1862, p. 238.
[410] Encyclopædia Britannica (Article on “New Guinea.”)
[411] Proceedings, Royal Geographical Society, 1884, p. 196.
NOTE XII. (Page 238.)
THE ISLANDS OF SAN BARTOLOMEO.--The Musquillo Islands of the
Marshall Group, with which I have identified this discovery of the
Spaniards, were thus named by Captain Bond in 1792.[412] They form a
double atoll about 38 miles in length and trending N.W. and S.E.
The N.W. end is in latitude 8° 10′ N., and the S.E. end is in
latitude 7° 46′ N. Captain Bond ranged along the coasts of above 20
small islands. At the N.W. end and isolated from the rest are two
small islands about three miles apart. On comparing this description
with that given by Gallego, the reader will have little doubt as to
the identity of the Musquillo Islands with the Spanish discovery. It
is probable that Gallego considered this discovery to be near the
position of an island discovered in 1536 in 14° N lat. by Toribio
Alonzo de Salazar,[413] 328 Spanish leagues from the Mariana
Islands, and named by him San Bartolomeo. This discovery of Salazar
is marked in Krusenstern’s General Atlas of the Pacific.
[412] Purdy’s “Oriental Navigator,” p. 689.
[413] Krusenstern’s “Mémoires Hydrographiques,” St. Petersburgh,
1827: Part II, p. 49.
NOTE XIII. (Page 239.)
THE ISLE OF SAN FRANCISCO.--Wake’s Island, with which I have
identified the Isle of San Francisco, was discovered in 1796 by the
“Prince William Henry.” Commodore Wilkes, who fixed its position in
1840 (lat. 19° 10′ 54″ N.; long 166° 31′ 30″ E. of G), thus
describes it. “Wake’s Island is a low coral one, of triangular form
and eight feet above the surface. It has a large lagoon in the
centre, which was well filled with fish of a variety of species;
amongst these were some fine mullet. There is no fresh water on the
island, and neither pandanus nor cocoa-nut tree. It has upon it the
shrubs, which are usually found on the low Islands of the Pacific,
the most abundant of which was Tournefortia. The short-tailed
albatross is found here; birds quite tame though not as numerous as
in other uninhabited islands. The appearance of the coral blocks and
vegetation leads to this conclusion that the island is at times
submerged or that at times the sea makes a complete breach over
it.”[414] Wake’s Island is about the size of the island described by
Gallego. Its latitude, its isolated position, and the close
agreement of Wilkes’ description with that of Gallego, leave no room
to doubt that Wake’s Island and the Isle of San Francisco are one
and the same . . . Burney refers to a small island named San
Francisco which is placed in the chart of the Galleon in Anson’s
voyage in lat. 19½ north and 84° east of the Strait of San
Bernardino; but he adds that it is too far to the east to be
identified with the island discovered by Mendana.[415]
[414] “Narrative of the United States Exploring Expedition,” vol V.
p. 267.
[415] “Chronol. History of Voy. and Disc.” vol I. p. 291.
NOTE XIV. (Page 251.)
THE LIST OF ISLANDS IN THE VICINITY OF TAUMACO WHICH WAS OBTAINED BY
QUIROS IN 1606 FROM ONE OF THE NATIVES.--They are as follows,
Chicayana, Guantopo, or Guaytopo, Taucalo, Pilen, Nupan, Pupam,
Fonfono or Fonofono, Mecaraylay, Manicolo, Tucopia, Pouro. More than
half of these islands can be identified with certainty, even after
an interval of nearly three centuries.
Chicayana may be without a doubt identified with Sikyana or
Sikai-ana, the present native name of the Stewart Isles which lie
about 250 miles to the north-west of Taumaco, or as the Taumaco
people reckoned, four days’ sail in their large canoes. In fact, the
native from whom Quiros obtained his information was originally from
Chicayana, having been carried by contrary winds to Taumaco whilst
endeavouring with a number of his fellow-islanders to reach the
island of Mecaraylay. The Chicayana natives were described to Quiros
as being very fair with long loose _red_ hair, some, however, being
darker like mulattoes, but with hair neither curled nor quite
straight. They possess much the same characters at the present
day.[416]
[416] These islands, as far as is known, were not visited by
Europeans until nearly two centuries after the visit of Quiros, when
Captain Hunter came upon them in 1791.
Guaytopo or Guantopo was a larger island than those of Taumaco and
Chicayana. Since it is placed three days’ sail (native reckoning)
from Taumaco and two days from Chicayana, it may have been one of
the eastern islands of the Solomon Group. The inhabitants were said
to have skins as fair as Europeans and red or black hair. They
punctured their bellies in a pattern of a circle around the navel;
and painted their bodies red down to the waist. The women were very
handsome and were clothed with some light material from head to
foot. The natives of Guaytopo, Taumaco, and Chicayana, were on very
friendly terms and spoke the same language.
The islands of Pilen and Nupan are evidently the Pileni and Nupani
of the adjacent Matema or Swallow Islands, which lie to the
northward of the large island of Santa Cruz. Fonofono or Fonfono,
which is stated to lie near Pilen and Nupan, may perhaps be the
Lomlom of the same small group. It was described to Quiros as being
“many islands, small and flat,” with a good port. The inhabitants
were said to be dun-coloured, and very tall.
Tucopia was subsequently visited by the Spanish navigator. In later
times it has obtained a melancholy interest in connection with the
fate of La Pérouse. Mécaraylay is apparently in the vicinity of
Guaytopo, but possessing a different language, its inhabitants being
noted for the use of tortoise-shell ornaments. Its name suggests
that of Makira, on the south coast of St. Christoval, in the
neighbouring Solomon Group. Taucalo may perhaps be the volcanic
island of Tinakula lying off the north coast of Santa Cruz Island.
It is stated to be near Taumaco.
The “large country” called Manicolo is to be identified with the
adjacent large island, named Vanikoro in the present Admiralty
charts, which lies about 100 miles to the southward of Taumaco. It
is referred by Captain Cook[417] to the Mallicolo of the New
Hebrides, lying 4° further south, which he visited in 1774; but this
view cannot be sustained. In the first place, it is stated to lie
two days’ sail from Tucopia. The following evidence, however, is
sufficient of itself to settle the point. When Captain Dillon[418]
was on his way to Vanikoro in 1827, to ascertain the fate of La
Pérouse, he learned from the natives of the neighbouring island of
Tucopia that the island he was going to was called _Malicolo_: but
he subsequently ascertained on visiting the island in question, that
it should be more correctly called _Mannicolo_ or _Vannicolo_. In
his chart of the island, Captain Dillon calls it Mannicolo. The
resemblance in name between these two islands in the New Hebrides,
and Santa Cruz Groups has been a frequent cause of misconception in
references to the narratives of the early navigators.
[417] “Voyage towards the South Pole and round the World,” vol. II.,
p. 146.
[418] “Discovery of the fate of La Pérouse,” London, 1829: vol. I.,
p. 33.
NOTE XV. (Pages 100, 251.)
THE POURO OF QUIROS.--A native of Chicayana, whom Quiros had
captured at Taumaco, told the Spanish navigator that there dwelt in
Taumaco “an Indian, a great pilot,” who had brought from “a large
country, named Pouro,” certain arrows, with points, in the form of a
knife, which, from the native’s description, Quiros concluded were
of silver. Pouro, he learned, was very populous, and its inhabitants
were dun-complexioned.
When I first came upon this reference to Pouro, I at once recognised
it as an allusion to the Bauro (St. Christoval) of the Solomon
Group, lying rather less than 300 miles to the westward of Taumaco.
Mr. Hale,[419] the philologist of the United States Exploring
Expedition, under Commodore Wilkes, endeavours to identify the Pouro
of the Taumaco natives with the Bouro in the Malay Archipelago, an
island lying more than 2,000 miles further westward: and he refers
to the circumstance of the silver arrows that were brought to
Taumaco as supporting his view. Regarding Bouro as the island
referred to in the traditions of the Fijians, Tongans, and Samoans,
relating to the origin of their race, Mr. Hale finds in the Pouro of
the Taumaco natives an allusion to this sacred island, and in the
circumstance of the silver arrows he finds evidence of communication
between these two regions. There can, however, be little doubt that
by this Pouro the Bauro of the Solomon Group was meant. The presence
of the silver arrows may be easily explained, when we remember that
about forty years before, the Spaniards were exploring this island
of Bauro, or Paubro as Gallego gives it (page 229).
[419] “Ethnography and Philology of the U. S. Exploring Expedition,”
p. 195.
NOTE XVI.
THE EDDYSTONE ROCK AND THE SIMBOO OF LIEUTENANT SHORTLAND.--For a
considerable time after the re-discovery of the Solomon Islands by
the French and English navigators, few islands were better known in
the group than Eddystone or Simbo Island. In thus naming this
island, however, there has been a singular misconception; and since
the name of Simbo has been omitted in the latest Admiralty chart
(August, 1884) of the group, some explanatory remarks may be of
interest.
In August, 1788, Lieutenant Shortland,[420] whilst sailing along the
south coasts of the Solomon Group on his voyage from Port Jackson to
England _via_ Batavia, approached “a rock which had exactly the
appearance of a ship under sail, with her top-gallant sails flying;”
and so striking was the resemblance that a signal was made to the
supposed vessel. The ships did not approach within three or four
miles of this rock. It was named the Eddystone and was placed in
lat. 8° 12′ S., bearing S.S.W. a league from two remarkable hills
which were named the Two Brothers. A point running south from these
two hills was named Cape Satisfaction. Whilst the English ships were
off the Eddystone, some natives came to them in their canoes, from
whom Shortland learned that they had come from “Simboo,” a place
which lay, as they indicated by their gestures, near Cape
Satisfaction. In the chart of his discoveries, this officer assigns
this name to some land lying east of the Two Brothers near the
position of the island at present called Gizo, but it is evident
both from his chart and from his narrative that he considered Simboo
as the general name for the land to the east of Cape Satisfaction;
and Fleurieu, when remarking on his discoveries, made the suggestion
that the Simboo of Shortland might prove to be the Choiseul of
Bougainville.[421]
[420] The narrative of Lieut. Shortland’s voyage is given in “The
Voyage of Governor Phillip to Botany Bay in 1787”: London, 1789.
[421] “Discoveries of the French, 1768-1769, to the S.E. of New
Guinea:” London, 1791, p. 196.
In what manner, we may now inquire, have the discoveries of
Shortland been identified with the islands that are laid down in the
latest charts of this group? For half a century and more the name of
Eddystone has been attached, not to a rock such as that to which it
was originally given, but to the adjacent volcanic island about four
miles in length and about 1100 feet in height; and the name of Cape
Satisfaction has been given to the south end of Ronongo which lies
ten miles N.N.E. of Eddystone Island. This cape is stated by
Shortland to run south from the two remarkable hills which he named
the Two Brothers. The island of Ronongo, however, has a long and
level summit destitute of peaks; and it is evident that we must look
elsewhere for the Cape Satisfaction of Shortland. In Eddystone
Island, there are two singular conical hills which might very fitly
have been named the Two Brothers, and it will be seen from the
sequel that it must have been to the south extremity of this island
that the name of Cape Satisfaction was in the first place given. I
shall also point out that the original Eddystone rock is represented
at the present day by a bare rock which rises out of the sea at a
distance of about a third of a mile from the south-west coast of
Eddystone Island, and that the Simboo, from which the natives came
to visit Shortland, was a diminutive island on the opposite or
south-east side of this same island.
When, in July 1792, the French expedition under Dentrecasteaux
arrived in this locality, the Eddystone rock was at once recognised
by the description of Shortland. . . . “nous aperçûmes”--thus wrote
Labillardière[422] the naturalist of the expedition--“le rocher
nommé Eddystone. De loin nous le prîmes, comme Shortland, pour un
vaisseau à la voile. L’illusion étoit d’autant plus grande, qu’il a
à peu près la couleur des voiles d’un vaisseau; quelques arbustes en
couronnoient la sommite.” In the Atlas of this voyage (carte 24),
this rock is placed off the south-west end of the island at present
named Eddystone Island, and exactly in the position of the bare rock
above alluded to, which will be found marked in the plan of this
island made by the surveying officers of H.M.S. “Lark” in 1882.
Lieutenant Malan tells me that this rock at the time of the survey
was quite bare of vegetation. It rises in two conical masses from
the water between which a boat can pass in calm weather. Although it
has a height of 30 feet, it is frequently washed over by the heavier
seas. The change in the appearance of this rock, since the visit of
Dentrecasteaux in 1792 when its summit was crowned with shrubs, has
been probably due to a movement of subsidence which has affected the
adjacent coast of Eddystone Island in recent years (_vide below_).
To such a change must be attributed the confusion which has arisen
with reference to the Eddystone rock; and cartographers, failing to
identify it, have applied its name to the adjacent volcanic island
on which they have also bestowed the name of Simbo. During his
survey of this island in 1882, Lieutenant Oldham ascertained that
this name of Simbo actually belonged to a small island bordering its
south-east coast with which it was connected by coral reefs. The
true native name of Eddystone Island, he found to be Narovo, and in
the latest Admiralty charts it is thus designated; the name of Simbo
is there attached to the small adjacent island which is, I have no
doubt, the Simboo from which the natives came, who visited
Shortland’s ships in 1788 as they lay off the Eddystone rock. At the
present day the larger island of Narovo is but thinly populated, and
its inhabitants are under the sway of a powerful chief who resides
on the small island of Simbo. There he rules over a warlike and
adventurous people who by their head-hunting raids have established
the fame of their diminutive island throughout a large portion of
the Solomon Group.
[422] “Voyage à la recherche De la Pérouse,” par Labillardière:
Paris, 1800: tom i, p. 215.
* * * * *
[In my volume of Geological Observations I have described the
movement of subsidence, to which is due the confusion concerning the
original Eddystone rock].
CHAPTER XIII.
BOTANICAL NOTES IN BOUGAINVILLE STRAITS.
MY botanical collections were made during 1884 in the islands of
Bougainville Straits; and in order to add to the completeness of this
section of my work, I will briefly refer to the physical character of
this locality. The principal islands of this sub-group are Treasury
Island, the Shortland Islands, and Faro, or Fauro, Island; whilst around
these lie numerous smaller islands and islets. The largest is not more
than twelve miles in length, and none of them attain an elevation
exceeding 2000 feet, Faro being about 1900 feet, Treasury about 1100,
and Alu, the principal of the Shortland Islands, about 500 feet. In
geological character they differ widely, Treasury being, for the most
part, of recent calcareous formations, Faro of volcanic formations,
whilst Alu is formed of rocks of both these classes. Of the numerous
smaller islands and islets which dot these straits, some are of
volcanic, and others of coral rocks.
In my botanical excursions in these islands, I received the greatest
assistance from the natives; and I was particularly struck with the
familiar knowledge of their trees and plants which these islanders
possessed. They have names for not only nearly all the trees, but for
several of the grasses; and, in the case of the former, when I was
uncertain as to whether I had come upon any specimen before, they would
obtain its flower, or fruit, or foliage, and point out to me its
comparative characters. The superior knowledge, which these natives
possess of each plant and its uses, has often led me to reflect on the
meagre acquaintance with the commonest trees, shrubs, and herbs, which
the ordinary white man can claim. Had my native companions asked me to
instruct them in a similar manner on the vegetation of an English
woodland--if such a rapid change of scene were possible--they would
probably have regarded me as a very ignorant and unobservant fellow.
They have names for and display a familiarity with many plants that can
be of no service to them, a somewhat puzzling circumstance, which may be
perhaps explained by their employing instinctively a method of exclusion
in the selection of those plants that are of service to them. For the
building of his house, the cultivation of his ground, the construction
of his canoe, the manufacture of his spears, clubs, and other weapons,
and for his many other wants, the native has to resort to the vegetable
kingdom for the requisite materials. An extensive acquaintance with the
vegetation of his island-home is unconsciously acquired by a native who
has himself to provide for all his necessities: but his knowledge
extends far beyond that limit which mere utility would appear to demand.
In a paper published recently in an American serial,[423] Mr. Matthews
combated the notion that savages are versed only in the knowledge of
plants and animals that contribute to their wants. He found that the
Indians are incomparably superior to the average white man, or to the
white man who has not made zoology or botany a subject of study. In this
respect, his experience accords with my own. The native of the Solomon
Islands will point out by name, in some remote inland dell, an
insignificant plant, which, he says, is of no service to him: he names
all the weeds of his cultivated patches; and he is similarly acquainted
with all the wild fruits, usually distinguishing them by their edible or
injurious qualities. Yet, in arriving at such a conclusion, it behoves
one to be wary, as I have sometimes found that the native applies the
name of a useful plant to all other useless plants (usually of the same
genus or family) that resemble it in their more conspicuous characters.
Then, again, I have often been surprised at the singular holes and
corners in the vegetable world which the native ransacks to supply his
wants. A fern that clothes the higher slopes of Faro Island, and which
is known to the natives as “sinimi,” and to the botanist as a species of
_Gleichenia_, furnishes the material for their plaited armlets. For this
purpose they employ narrow strips of the vascular tissue that forms the
firm central portion of the stem. I had previously looked upon this fern
as of little use to these islanders, and on learning of the ingenious
purpose for which it was employed, I became very careful in the future
when pronouncing on the utility or inutility of any familiar plant.
[423] “Bulletin of the Philosophical Society of Washington,” Vol.
VII.
With these preliminary remarks, I will proceed to describe the general
characters of the vegetation of these islands; and, in order to connect
my observations together, I will treat of them in the form of a series
of excursions made in different districts.
_An ascent of one of the larger streams in the Shortland Islands._--In
the lower part of its course, the stream follows a circuitous course
amidst the gloom and dismal surroundings of a mangrove swamp. It is
difficult to convey in words a true idea of such a scene. The features
most imprinted on my memory are those of “a slow and silent stream” of
dark turbid water, traversing a swamp of black, repulsive-looking mud,
in which the crocodile finds a congenial home. The light of day is
subdued into a depressing gloom by the foliage of the mangrove forest:
the air, charged with the miasma of decaying vegetable life, is
impregnated with a sour, unpleasant odour; and the silence that prevails
is interrupted only by the fall of a branch, or by the startled cry of
some wading-bird disturbed in its haunt. Nipa palms line the banks in
places, and occasionally occupy the swamp for some distance on either
side of the stream. Overhead, perched high upon the branches of the tall
mangroves, occur the two singular epiphytes, _Hydnophytum_ and
_Myrmecodia_, both of which have been found to be species new to science
(_H. Guppyanum_, Becc.; _M. salomonensis_, Becc.). From the following
remarks, my readers will be able to observe the peculiar features of
these interesting rubiaceous plants. The large swollen base of the stem,
sometimes eighteen inches in length, is occupied by cavities which are
usually infested by ants that actively resent any attempts to carry off
their home. It has been considered that this swollen mass and its
chambers are due to the irritation produced by the ants gnawing at the
base of the young growing stem, and that the plant cannot thrive without
the ants; but from observations made by Mr. H. O. Forbes,[424] in Java,
on the origin of “this curious-galleried structure” in a species of
_Myrmecodia_, it would seem that this swollen mass and its chambers are
produced without the presence of ants, and that in their absence the
plant may thrive vigorously. Not unfrequently, I found the ants in
scanty numbers, and sometimes they were absent altogether. In the case
of _Myrmecodia salomonensis_, and _Hydnophytum inerme_,[425] they are
found in considerable numbers. The chambers of _H. Guppyanum_ are
usually nearly full of dirty rain-water, and contain scarcely any ants,
a few cockroaches being generally found in the cavities. Those specimens
which I examined of another species of this genus (_H. longistylum_,
Becc.), that occurs on the coast trees, contained a few cockroaches, but
no ants; and, on the outer surface of one of the swollen masses, I found
a small crab. From my own cursory notes, it would therefore seem
probable that these epiphytes may thrive without the presence of ants.
. . . . With this digression, I return to my description of the ascent
of the stream.
[424] “A Naturalist’s Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago,” p. 81.
(1885.)
[425] This species was obtained at Ugi.
Leaving behind the slime and gloom of the swamp, the rising ground is
reached, at the base of which the vegetation is of the most luxuriant
character, and often have I lingered here in my Rob Roy canoe to admire
the luxuriance of plant-growth that surrounded me. For on account of the
lowness of the district, it shares the dampness though not the
infertility of the swamps below. The soft clayey rock, which is exposed
in the banks of the stream, affords a rich and even too productive soil.
Nature runs riot and becomes prodigal in her profusion; and thus growth
is too often associated with decay to present on all occasions a
pleasing picture to the eye. Here the tree-fern, the croton, the wild
plantain, and numerous areca palms flourish; but the alpinias,
heliconias, and other scitamineous plants form the chief feature of the
vegetation on this gently rising ground.
Higher up the stream, tall forest trees rise on each side often
enveloped partially by a drapery of runners and climbing plants, their
leafy branches spreading over the water. Stout lianas hang in festoons
across the stream. Partly hidden amongst the greater vegetation may be
seen the fan-palm of the district (_Licuala_, the “firo” of the
natives), and another pretty little palm known as the “sensisi,”
_Cyrtostachys_, together with the handsome foliage of a _Plerandra_
(“fo”) and numerous areca palms. An occasional _Dolicholobium_
(“lowasi”) with white flowers distributes its fragrance around. Ferns
abound along the banks, varying in size from the small _Trichomanes_ to
the tree-fern, twenty feet in height, and the _Angiopteris_ with its
magnificent spreading fronds fifteen feet and more in length. If one
leaves the stream for a few minutes at the foot of the hills, a moist,
low-lying district is traversed, the home of the scitamineæ and the
areca-palms, which latter are distinguished amongst the natives as the
“momo,” “niga-solu,” “niga-torulo,” and “au-au.”
Ascending the hill slopes towards the source of the stream, numerous
palms rise up on either side. The _Caryota_ (“eala”) with its branches
resembling the fronds of a huge adiantum, the handsome “kisu” (probably
a species of _Drymophloeus_) and a tall areca known as the “poamau,” are
those which frequently meet the eye. Interspersed among them we notice
the lesser areca-palms and the fan-palm before alluded to. On the crest
of the hill, at a height of some 200 or 300 feet above the sea, are
found tall forest trees, some of them of gigantic size and attaining a
height of 150 feet and upwards. Amongst them occur the banyan (“chim”),
other ficoid trees with the flange-like buttresses, and the “katari,” a
species of _Calophyllum_ which supplies the natives with a resin for
their torches. In the following description of the interior of the
forest in this region I have referred at some length to the larger
trees.
_The interior of the forest. . . ._ To obtain a true idea of the
forest-growth in these islands, it is necessary to traverse one of the
more level districts in the interior, which is removed from the vicinity
of the cultivated patches of the natives. Entering the confines of the
forest direct from the full glare of the tropical sun, one experiences a
peculiar and often oppressive sensation, which may be attributed to the
combined influences of the warmth, the humidity, and the effluvia
arising from the decaying vegetation, to the impressive silence that
reigns, and to the subdued light or dusky atmosphere that there
prevails. Meeting overhead at a height of some 150 feet from the ground,
the foliage and the smaller branches of the lofty trees form a dense
leafy screen roofing over, as it were, a series of lofty corridors in
which the palms and the lesser trees flourish. The gloom that there
prevails is rarely lightened by the direct rays of the sun, except here
and there through the gap left by the downfall of one of the huge trunks
that now lies rotting on the ground. Nor is the silence that reigns
often broken, except by the cooing of the fruit-pigeons overhead or by
the rushing flight of the hornbill startled from its repose. Here the
steady blast of the trade is no longer felt and is only perceptible in
the movements of the foliage of the tallest trees. Yet there is little
in such a scene that would strike the mind of the merely æsthetic lover
of nature. Flowers he rarely sees: they are only to be found where the
sunlight can reach them in the partially cleared spaces in the midst of
the forest, or on the sides of ravines, or along the coasts. On the
other hand, however, he cannot fail to be impressed by the luxuriance
and magnificence of the vegetation in this conservatory of Nature.
Under such conditions the palms flourish. The _Caryota_, the “kisu”
palm, numerous areca-palms, with the tree-fern, give the character to
the lesser vegetation. Huge climbing stems, such as the “droau,” the
“aligesi” (_Aleurites?_), the “nakia” (_Uvaria_), the “awi-sulu”
(_Lyonsia_) lie in coils on the ground and rising vertically reach the
lower branches of the trees some fifty to a hundred feet overhead. The
large purple papilionaceous flowers of the “droau” sometimes strew the
ground at the bases of the tallest trees. If the forest be situated on a
hill-side, the slope is clothed by _Selaginellæ_ which often display in
the midst of their dark-green foliage pretty bleached fronds that form a
striking contrast to the prevailing hue. Mosses, small ferns, and fungi,
such as the massive expansions of _Polyporus_ and the more delicate
plates of _Hexagona apiaria_ and others, conceal in some degree the
unsightliness of the decaying log. A drapery of lycopods and of trailing
and climbing ferns, such as _Trichomanes_ and _Lygonia_ more or less
completely invests the lower portions of the trunks of the larger trees.
Seventy or eighty feet overhead the wide-spreading fronds of the
birds-nest fern (_Asplenium nidus_) appear half-suspended in mid-air, as
they project from their point of attachment to the tree. Lower down the
trunk, the handsome aroid _Epipremnum_ may be observed. Epiphytic
orchids form no marked feature in this forest-scene, preferring, as they
do, those situations where the direct sunlight can reach them, as at the
coast and on the sides of ravines. Terrestrial orchids, however, with
inconspicuous and sombre-coloured flowers thrive in the gloom and
moisture of the forest.
The larger trees, to which I have not yet referred, often attain a
height of 150 feet and over. Here the banyan and more than one species
of _Canarium_ including the “ka-i” or Solomon Island Almond tree,
together with a _Ratonia_ (“nekale”), a _Vitex_ (“fasala”), the “katari”
(_Calophyllum_) before mentioned, and numerous ficoid trees known to the
natives as the “uri,” the “ilimo,” and the “nie,” figure amongst the
more conspicuous of the forest trees. Many of them possess at the base
of the trunk large buttresses or flanges, which, as in the “tobu,”
“ilimo,” “nie,” and “maranato” (_Sapotacea?_), may rise twelve to
fifteen feet up the trunk and extend some twenty feet away along the
ground. Some of the ficoid trees throw off at a height of from twenty to
thirty feet, large flange-like buttresses, which, on reaching the
ground, form natural arches. These lofty trees, as I have already
remarked, meet together overhead to form a leafy screen, which, whilst
it excludes the direct rays of the sun, admits and confines both the
moisture and the heat. This conservatory of nature contains within its
own precincts the conditions for its preservation. Here the young tree
grows up, its safety ensured, until at length it becomes a pillar in the
edifice in which it was itself reared. The open character of the wood
and the absence of scrub and undergrowth, more especially on level
ground, have often been a cause of surprise to me. I have often walked
without impediment through the gloomy corridors of such a forest,
brushing past the huge trunks of the tallest trees, and winding in and
out amongst the palms that number as many years in age as their giant
compeers count decades.
On first treading in such a forest, the visitor is much impressed by the
imposing appearance and size of the banyans and the buttress-trees. With
mingled feelings of awe and pity he will perceive that between these
monarchs of the forest there is waged an unequal struggle, in which the
huge buttress-tree always succumbs to the rough embraces of its foe. He
will observe all the stages in the struggle. Here the buttress-tree may
be seen in its prime, but in part embraced at its lower part by the
tightly clasping offshoots of the young banyan. Further on, in the midst
of the interlacing columns of the banyan, the buttress-tree may be seen
partially strangled. Dry rot has attacked its trunk reaching almost to
the core, so that a sheath-knife sinks readily up to the handle in its
substance; yet, far overhead the wide-spreading branches of this forest
potentate are covered with green foliage, and still wave defiantly in
the trade. In the prolonged contest the buttress-tree is dying hard, and
in fact it is the stout investing trunks of the banyan that alone hold
its victim erect. Near by may be another banyan of larger size and
presenting the appearance of a maze of columns which may cover an area
thirty to forty feet across. Its victim has long since disappeared, and
a hollow in the centre of the maze of stems alone marks the former
situation of the huge buttress-tree.
What finer or more impressive simile could be employed to illustrate the
gradual degeneration and final downfall of a nation under the choking
influences of vice, corruption, luxury, and misgovernment? A mighty
forest tree is slowly strangled by the caresses of an insidious creeper.
With advancing decay its tottering stem is alone supported by the
tightening grasp of its foe. Yet its higher branches retain their
vitality to the last; and when the end comes, its ashes add fertility to
the soil and vigour to the growth of its destroyer.
It is not to be surprised that this battle of the trees should be
included in the mythical lore of some of the inhabitants of the Pacific
islands. Dr. George Turner, in his recent work entitled “Samoa, a
hundred years ago and long before,” gives the following legend of the
banyan. . . . . . “A report reached Samoa that the trees of Fiji had
fought with the Banian tree, and that it had beaten them all. On this
the Tatangia (_Acacia laurifolia_) and another tree went off from Samoa
in two canoes to right the Fijian champion. They reached Fiji, went on
shore, and there stood the Banian tree. ‘Where is the tree,’ they
inquired, ‘which has conquered all the trees?’ ‘I am the tree,’ said the
Banian. Then said the Tatangia, ‘I have come to fight with you.’ ‘Very
Good, let us fight,’ replied the Banian. They fought. A branch of the
Banian tree fell, but the Tatangia sprung aside and escaped. Another
fell--ditto, ditto--the Tatangia. Then the trunk fell. The Tatangia
again darted aside and escaped unhurt. On this the Banian tree ‘buried
its eyes in the earth’ and owned itself conquered.”
_An ascent to the summit of the Faro Island. . . ._ In making an ascent
to the higher districts of this island, which attains an elevation of
about 1900 feet above the sea, a little may be learned perhaps of the
vertical distribution of the coast flora in this portion of the Solomon
Group. The cycad (_Cycas circinalis_) grows most frequently just within
the trees that immediately line the beach and may be often observed at
all heights up to 400 feet above the sea, but it is not usually found at
greater elevations.[426] The following large trees commonly occur on the
hill-slopes up to an elevation of a thousand feet, the “fasala”
(_Vitex_), the “toa” (_Elæocarpus_), the “opi-opi,” the “ka-i”
(_Canarium_), the “katari” (_Calophyllum_), and others; whilst the palms
such as the fan-palm (_Licuala_), the _Caryota_ (“eala”), the “kisu”
(_Pinanga_) and the arecas, fill up the intermediate ground, the
fan-palm growing in great numbers and often monopolising the slope.[427]
The smaller trees, of a height usually of sixty or seventy feet, which
are more frequently observed during the lower half of the ascent, are, a
species of _Cerbera_ (“anumi”), the “kunuka” (_Gnetum_), the
“palinoromus” (_Couthovia_), the “poporoko,” and others; whilst on the
hill-slopes below the elevation of 500 feet the small conifer _Gnetum
Gnemon_ (“meriwa”) may be commonly seen. In three different localities,
at elevations of between 1,000 and 1,100 feet above the sea, I came upon
brakes of fine bamboos (_Schizostachyum?_) 35 to 40 feet in length which
are employed as fishing-poles by the natives. This bamboo, both in
Treasury and Faro Islands, does not appear to occur below this height;
whilst in the Shortland Islands, although found at a lower elevation, it
selects the higher regions of the island.
[426] At Treasury Island I found a solitary cycad at a height of a
thousand feet above the sea. As it was in the vicinity of a
plantation of sago palms, it is probable that it had been planted by
the natives who employ the fruits for medicinal purposes.
[427] This fan-palm, the “firo” of the natives, was in 1884 only
represented in Treasury by a single individual which had been
brought a few years before from Bougainville, where the leaves are
employed in making a conical hat that is commonly worn.
Above a thousand feet, many of the trees and palms so frequent below
become less common or disappear. The fan-palm (_Licuala_) which grows in
such numbers in the lower levels did not come under my notice above this
elevation. On account of the absence of large trees near the summit, the
lesser vegetation receives more of the sun’s rays; and thus at 1,600
feet above the sea the alpinias, such as the “vitoko” and the “kokuru”
re-appear, plants which usually abound in the lower levels in all open
situations, as on the banks of streams. For the same reason, we find
near the summit of the island at elevations of 1,600 to 1,700 feet the
tall composite shrub, _Wedelia biflora_, which is one of the commonest
of the plants that grow at the margin of the beach. On account of this
absence of large trees, and the consequent increased exposure to the
sun’s rays, the smaller trees with conspicuous flowers find a congenial
situation at this elevation: here are found the species of
_Dolicholobium_ (“lowasi”), which is common on the banks of the streams
in the lower levels, the _Fagræa Berteriana_ (“bubulata”) which grows
also at the coast, a wild nut-meg tree (_Myristica_), a species of
_Harpullia_ (“wawaupoko”), the “pakuri” (_Eugenia_), the “baimoloi” and
others. In these higher regions tree-ferns grow to a height of thirty
feet; and here the areca-palms, “momo” and “niga-torulo,” are also
found. Here flourishes the _Gleichenia_, a fern which does not usually
grow at elevations under 700 feet above the sea, and which is
represented by two common species: it is the “sinimi” of the natives
who, as I have already remarked, work the fine strips of its vascular
tissue into armlets which they commonly wear. Near the summit and all
down the slopes is found a species of _Begonia_, a genus, as I am
informed by Baron von Mueller, not before recorded from islands east of
New Guinea.[428] A dense growth of the trailing stems of a _Freycinetia_
and of ferns clothes the rocky sides of the highest peak, which is
almost bare of trees. Here however I found a new genus of the
_Pandanaceæ_, which, like some other pandanus trees, is known to the
natives as “sararang.” It grows to a height of fifty feet, and was only
observed by me on the highest peak of the island and for two or three
hundred feet below. It has a very conspicuous white “branching female
spadix,” three to four feet in length; and I learn from Professor Oliver
that the same or a near ally of it, though not in a condition to
describe, was collected by Signor Beccari in Jobi Island off the
north-west coast of New Guinea.
[428] A species of _Ophiorrhiza_ is in Treasury Island usually
associated with this _Begonia_ and is found at all elevations.
_The coast vegetation of the larger islands. . . ._ It is in the coasts
of such an island as Treasury or Faro Island, where the strictly
littoral and more inland plants become intermingled, that the Solomon
Island vegetation in some degree redeems its character. Here the
prevailing sombreness and inconspicuous inflorescences give place to
bright hues and to a variety of flowers. Here are seen the handsome
white flowers of a rubiaceous tree, a species of _Bikkia_; the yellowish
flowers and bright red fruits of _Harpullia capanioides_ (“koloa”); the
crimson flowers of an _Erythrina_ (perhaps _indica_); the yellow flowers
of _Cæsalpinia Nuga_; the large pods of _Pongamia glabra_; and the
fruits of a wild nutmeg (_Myristica_, sp.). _Hernandia peltata_ and
_Clerodendron inerme_ may also be here found. The conspicuous flowers of
_Hibiscus tiliaceus_, _Thespesia populnea_, and of other littoral trees
such as _Cerbera Odollam_ and _Guettarda speciosa_, add their brightness
to the scene. Amongst the foliage of the trees twine a species of
_Ipomœa_ with handsome white flowers, and here are seen the wax-like
flowers of more than one species of asclepiad (_Hoya_, sp). Orchids,
some of striking beauty, hang from the trunks of the trees and form a
conspicuous feature in the scene. Among them occur species of
_Dendrobium_, _Coelogyne_, _Cleisostoma_, etc.
_The littoral vegetation, as exhibited in a coral islet. . . ._ I will
take the case of one of the many wooded islets that have been formed on
the coral reefs by the action of the waves. On the weather side of such
an islet, which may be termed its growing edge, the vegetation is
scanty, and there are but few trees. A binding weed and more than one
species of _Ipomœa_ loosely cover a surface composed almost entirely of
calcareous sand, broken shells, coral debris, and pumice pebbles; and it
is on such an unproductive soil that two or more species of _Pandanus_
and _Casuarina angustifolia_ flourish. Here at the margin of the beach
may be seen in profusion the tall composite shrub, _Wedelia biflora_,
and another common shrub, _Scævola Kœnigii_. Two climbing peas prefer
the sandy soil in this situation, one with yellow flowers, _Vigna
lutea_, and the other with pink flowers, _Canavalia turgida_; whilst a
dense growth of _Flagellaria indica_ often conceals from view any rocky
slope overlooking the beach. Just within the line of vegetation
immediately bordering the beach, the following trees commonly occur,
_Ochrosia parviflora_ (“pokosola”), _Heritiera littoralis_ (“pipilusu”),
_Terminalia catappa_ (“saori”), _Cycas circinalis_, and one or more
species of _Pandanus_. Here also a species of _Crinum_ (the “papau” of
the natives) and the _Tacca pinnatifida_ (“mamago”) may be usually
found. (I hoped to have referred to the ferns of such a coral islet; but
my endeavours to obtain any information of my collection have been
unavailing).
On the lee side of such an islet, which is the oldest portion of its
surface, the vegetation is much denser and of a different character.
Here, the trees form a thick belt, their branches overhanging the rising
tide. Those of most frequent occurrence are, _Barringtonia speciosa_,
_Calophyllum inophyllum_, _Hibiscus tiliaceus_, _Thespesia populnea_,
_Guettarda speciosa_, _Morinda citrifolia_, _Cerbera Odollam_, _Pongamia
glabra_, _Tournefortia argentea_, and others. The trunks of the larger
trees often lean over the beach or lie partly procumbent on the sand.
Amongst the foliage of these coast trees, many of which have large
conspicuous flowers, climbing asclepiads of the genus _Hoya_ with their
equally conspicuous flowers may be frequently observed. Orchids, often
of considerable beauty, hang from the reclining trunks of the trees.
Here, as in the case of the coasts of the large islands, we perceive how
pleasant is the contrast which the littoral vegetation presents when
compared with the gloomy and apparently flowerless forests, where the
tallest trees possess but an inconspicuous greenish inflorescence.
In the interior of such a coral islet, huge banyans and other trees
having wide-spreading buttresses are to be found. Many of them attain a
height of 150 feet and upwards, and afford a home to numbers of
fruit-eating pigeons which largely subsist on their fruits, and through
whose agency the interiors of coral islets are stocked with these large
trees. Conspicuous amongst the trees is a species of _Canarium_ (the
“ka-i” of the natives), the disgorged nuts of which frequently strew the
ground beneath; a banyan (_Ficus_) with large oblong fruits and another
species with small spherical fruits; other ficoid trees with large
buttresses, such as the “uri”; a species of _Eugenia_, probably a
variety of _Eugenia jambos_; together with several other trees.
This description of the vegetation of a coral islet brings me to refer
to the manner in which such an islet, which is usually of very recent
origin, has become stocked with its plants: and in so doing I shall be
treating of a very important matter, _the oceanic dispersal of plants_.
Fortunately for me, my notes and collections relating to this subject
had an increased value at the time of my arrival in England, and in this
respect I have been able to accomplish one of the principal aims of a
young traveller, that of supplying trustworthy materials to those
engaged in the particular line of research to which his notes and
collections relate.[429]
[429] Mr. Botting Hemsley was on the point of completing his report
on the oceanic dispersal of plants in connection with the Botany of
the “Challenger” Expedition. Such of my collections, as referred to
his work, were placed at his disposal by Sir Joseph Hooker; and my
notes were incorporated in volume I. of the Botany of the
“Challenger” (Part III. p. 309), to which I must refer my readers
who are more specially interested in this subject.
The picturesquely wooded islets of these seas have been stocked through
two principal agencies. Winds and currents drift to their shores the
fruits and seeds of the littoral trees which ultimately form the margin
of the vegetation; whilst the fruit pigeons disgorge the seeds or fruits
of those often colossal trees which occupy the interior.
I will first refer to the former of these agencies. Lines of vegetable
drift, intermingled with floating pumice, are frequently observable
whilst cruising among the islands of the Solomon Group. The floating
fruits commonly found belong to the most familiar littoral trees of this
region, those of _Barringtonia speciosa_ and _Calophyllum inophyllum_
being especially frequent; and on more than one occasion the solitary
fruits of the former were noticed at sea by Lieutenant Oldham and myself
at distances of from 130 to 150 miles to the southward of the group,
being probably derived from one of the islands of the New Hebrides to
the eastward. Other fruits or seeds occurring frequently in the drift
are those of _Nipa fruticans_ and of two or more species of _Pandanus_;
numerous beans (species of _Mucuna_, _Canavalia_, _Dioclea_), the long
germinated seeds of the mangrove (_Rhizophora_), an occasional
cocoa-nut, the cones of _Casuarina equisetifolia_, _Terminalia catappa_,
_Lumnitzera coccinea_, _Guettarda speciosa_, _Ochrosia parviflora_,
_Heritiera littoralis_ and others.[430]
[430] Other fruits found floating were a second species of
_Calophyllum_, a species of _Gomphandra_, _Harpullia_ sp., and some
_Scitamineæ_.
The foregoing seeds and seed-vessels with many others may be observed
washed up by the waves on the surface of the bare sandy islets or
sand-keys, which exhibit the first stage in the growth of those
picturesquely wooded coral islets that are ultimately formed on the
reefs. On such a sand-key, not more than some 25 or 30 yards across, I
have counted as many as 30 different kinds of seeds and fruits, all
collected together in the centre, which was only washed over at
spring-tides. One of the first trees to establish itself is the mangrove
(_Rhizophora_), which by its reclaiming agency adds to the area of the
islet and enables other trees, such as _Lumnitzera coccinea_, to take up
their abode. _Pari passu_ with the seaward extension of the reef, the
islet increases in size; and in time the winds and currents bring other
fruits and seeds which germinate and form ultimately the belt of
littoral trees bordering the beach. In this manner _Barringtonia
speciosa_, _Calophyllum inophyllum_, _Thespesia populnea_, _Hibiscus
tiliaceus_, _Cerbera odollam_, _Ochrosia parviflora_, _Heritiera
littoralis_, _Terminalia catappa_, different species of _Pandanus_,
_Casuarina equisetifolia_, and _Cycas circinalis_ with many others
referred to on a previous page, become established. It is worthy of note
that the fruits of the great majority of trees which form the margin of
the vegetation, whether on the lee or weather side of such an islet,
float in salt water.[431] The small cones of the _Casuarina_ however,
require a certain amount of drying before they can be transported by the
waves. The green fruits of the _Cycas_ usually sink in salt water; but I
found that one out of ten specimens floated, an exceptional circumstance
which sufficiently accounts for the occurrence of _Cycas circinalis_ on
these coral islets.
[431] The results of some experiments I made are given on page 305.
Whilst through the agency of the winds and currents the waves have
stocked the islet with its marginal vegetation, the fruit pigeons have
been unconsciously stocking its interior with huge trees, that have
sprung from the fruits and seeds they have transported in their crops
from the neighbouring coasts and islets. Perched up in the branches of
the trees, these birds disgorge the seeds they have brought from other
localities; and the rejected seeds and seed-vessels lie strewn on the
ground beneath. The soft and often fleshy fruits, on which the fruit
pigeons subsist, belong to numerous species of trees. Some of them are
as large even as a hen’s egg, as in the case of those of the species of
_Canarium_ (“ka-i”) which have a pulpy exterior that is alone digested
and retained by the pigeon. The fruits of the banyans and other ficoid
trees, which with the _Canarium_ are amongst the most conspicuous trees
in the interior of the coral islets, are apparently preferred by the
fruit pigeons, since they occur commonly in their crops. A species of
_Eugenia_ common in the interior of these islets possesses fruits found
in the crops of these birds. Amongst other fruits and seeds on which
these pigeons subsist, and which they must transport from one locality
to another, are those of a species of _Elæocarpus_ (“toa”), a species of
laurel (_Litsea_), a nutmeg (_Myristica_), an _Achras_,[432] one or more
species of _Areca_, and probably a species of _Kentia_. There is,
however, another bird common on these coral islets, the ground pigeon
_Geophilus nicobaricus_, known commonly as the Nicobar pigeon, which
transports seeds in its gizzard cavity that on account of their hardness
are not fed upon by the ordinary fruit pigeon (_Carpophaga_). The
peculiar structure of the gizzard, which is described on page 323,
enables the Nicobar pigeon to crack seeds that can only be broken by a
sharp blow with a stone. I have found inside this organ, the hard red
seeds of a leguminous plant, very probably _Adenanthera pavonina_, of
which one seed is occasionally found to be cracked. We may therefore
consider that many small hard seeds and seed-vessels, which would be
refused by the common fruit pigeon of these islands, are transported
from one locality to another in the gizzard cavity of the Nicobar
pigeon.
[432] I am indebted to Mr. Charles Moore of Sydney N.S.W., for the
identification of this fruit. (_Vide_ also “Journal and Proceedings
of the Royal Society, N.S.W.,” XVII., p. 226.)
From the foregoing remarks it may be inferred that the pigeons in these
islands play a very important part in the dispersal of plants, to which,
as Mr. Botting Hemsley remarks in his report (page 313), they have
perhaps contributed more than any other animal. In the Solomon Islands
the fruit pigeons, as dusk approaches, frequent the islets on the coral
reefs in great numbers, and from their unwillingness to leave their
roosts in the trees they fall an easy prey to the sportsman. In one
afternoon, on one of the islets of Choiseul Bay, 57 birds fell to the
guns of Lieutenant Heming and Lieutenant Leeper; and it is to these two
officers that I am indebted for my opportunities of collecting the
fruits taken from the crops of these pigeons.
In drawing my botanical remarks to a close, it may be fitting to recall
the more lasting impressions which I have received of the vegetation of
these islands; and I may do so in a very few words. The characteristic
features of the vegetation are to be found in the number and variety of
the areca palms; in the abundance of the alpinias, heliconias, and other
scitamineous plants; in the imposing size and form of the banyans and
the buttress trees; and in the profusion of the ferns. I have not
previously dwelt upon the important part which the ferns take in the
vegetation of these islands, because I had hoped to have heard something
of my collection which I presented to the British Museum eighteen months
ago; but, to my great chagrin, I have been unable, after repeated
application, to learn anything concerning it. I may here state that
ferns abound everywhere; in moist and dry situations; in sheltered and
exposed districts; now decking the tree-trunks with their draperies, or
concealing the unsightliness of the decaying log; here covering the bare
slopes of some lofty hill-top, or clothing the surface of some treeless
tract. The tree-fern and the wide-spreading _Angiopteris_ are to be
found on the banks of streams or in some inland dell. The former avoids
the coast, and occurs at all elevations up to 2000 feet and over: it
flourishes at the heads of valleys.
LIST OF PLANTS COLLECTED IN THE ISLANDS OF BOUGAINVILLE STRAITS, SOLOMON
GROUP, DURING 1884.[433]
[433] I am mainly indebted to the kindness of Professor Oliver for
the list of the plants collected by me in the Solomon Islands, most
of which were sent to Kew. The ferns are in the British Museum, but
I can learn nothing of them. Fortunately, the fungi were not
included; and for a list of them I am indebted to Mr. Baker. Most of
the orchids, and some of the asclepiads, were given by me to Baron
von Mueller, who intends to examine them in connection with
subsequent collections. I take this opportunity of expressing my
sense of the great kindness he showed me with reference to my plant
collections. To Signor Beccari I am also indebted. Owing to my
inexperience in botanical collecting, the specimens were often
inadequate for descriptive and specific determination; but my
deficiencies will appear more excusable when I state that I devoted
my attention more particularly to the trees. Professor Oliver,
however, informs me that, in spite of its defects, my collection
gives an excellent conception of the flora of the islands visited.
ANONACEÆ.
Uvaria, sp. . . vulgo “Nakia.” A stout climber.
GUTTIFERÆ.
Ochrocarpus ovalifolius, T. And v. O (Calysaccion) tinctorium,
Seem.? vulgo “Kokoilo.” A littoral tree about thirty feet high.
Calophyllum Inophyllum, L., vulgo “Bogoau.”
Calophyllum sp. . . vulgo “Katari.” Two tall trees apparently
distinguished by the size of the fruits. (Flowers not obtained.) A
dark resin oozes from the bark, which the natives burn in torches.
MALVACEÆ.
Hibiscus tiliaceus, L.: vulgo “Dakatako.”
Thespesia populnea, Corr.: vulgo “Kai-kaia.”
STERCULIACEÆ.
Kleinhovia Hospita, L.: vulgo “Lafai.”
Heritiera an H. littoralis, var. angustifolia? vulgo “Pipilusu.”
TILIACEÆ.
Triumfetta procumbens, Forst.
Elæocarpus sp. . . vulgo “Toa.” A tree about seventy feet high, with
conspicuous blue fruits, eaten by fruit-pigeons.
OXALIDACEÆ
Oxalis corniculata, L.
SIMARUBEÆ
Soulamca amara, Lam.
RUTACEÆ.
Evodia hortensis, Forst.: vulgo “Luk-a-luk.”
Rutacea (§ Toddaliæ?). Detached leaves and flowers picked up from
the ground at the foot of a tall forest tree. Flowers “4-meri;
petala imbricata libera; stamina 4 libera, pet. alterna, ovarium
liberum integrum, 4-loc?”
BURSERACEÆ.
Canarium sp. . . No flowers obtained. A tall forest tree, a hundred
feet and upwards in height. Vulgo “Kai.” Known as the Solomon Island
almond tree. The kernels afford a common article of food in August
and September.
Canarium? vulgo “Nie.” A tree with buttresses, a hundred feet high.
Canarium? vulgo “Nie.” A tall forest tree, with buttresses, 100 to
150 feet high.
OLACINEÆ.
Gomphandra sp. . . vulgo “Ninilo,” or “Ningilo.” A tree thirty to
forty feet high. Fruit eaten by wild pigs.
Lasianthera sp. . . nov? vulgo “Porutolo.” A tree sixty to seventy
feet high.
Olacinea (dub): vulgo “Poporoko.” A tree sixty feet high, having a
light reddish wood, and a dark red sap.
CELASTRINEÆ.
Salacia sp. . . nov.
RHAMNACEÆ.
Colubrina asiatica, Bngn.
AMPELIDEÆ.
Leea sambucina, L. (A Gr. U.S. Expl. Expn.)
SAPINDACEÆ.
Schmidelia aff. S. obovatæ, A Gr. A littoral tree, thirty feet high.
Harpullia cupanioides, Roxb.: vulgo “Koloa.” Littoral.
Sapindacea an aff. Harpulliæ? vulgo “Wawau-poko.” Growing 1400 feet
above the sea.
Ratonia sp. . . vulgo “Nekale.” A forest tree, a hundred feet high
and over, with inconspicuous buttresses.
Ratonia sp. . . vulgo “Nekale.” A forest tree, a hundred feet high
and over, with buttresses.
ANACARDIACEÆ.
Mangifera indica. L.? vulgo “Faise.” Mango tree, growing in
plantations. Fruit ripens in August. Height, thirty feet.
LEGUMINOSÆ.
Crotalaria quinquefolia, L.: vulgo “Kokila.”
Desmodium umbellatum, D.C., vulgo “Meki,” forma stenocarpa.
Desmodium ormocarpoides, D.C.?
Desmodium polycarpum D.C.
Erythrina: flowers only. E. monosperma perhaps, or E. indica.
Mucuna gigantea, D.C.? vulgo “Faso-gasuga.”
Mucuna sp. . . vulgo “Wassa-wassawa.”
Mucuna sp. . .
Papilionacea (dub); vulgo “Droau.” A stout climber on forest trees,
with large purple flowers.
Canavalia turgida, Grah.
Vigna lutea, A. Gray.
Pongamia glabra, Vent.? vulgo “Ansapo.”
Sophora tomentosa, L.
Cæsalpinia Nuga, Ait.
Adenanthera Pavonina, L. (probably). Seeds only obtained.
Leucæna sp. . .?? vulgo “Gehala.” A tree thirty to forty feet high.
CHRYSOBALANEÆ.
Parinarium laurinum, A. Gr.: vulgo “Tita.” A tree about sixty feet
high. From the fruit is obtained a resin used by the natives for
caulking the seams of their canoes.
ROSACEÆ.
Rubus tilaceus, Sm.
COMPRETACEÆ.
Terminalia Catappa, L.: vulgo “Saori.” Seeds eaten by the natives.
Lumnitzera coccinea, W. and Arn.
MYRTACEÆ.
Eugenia sp. . . vulgo “Pakuri.” A tree thirty feet high, growing
1600 feet above the sea.
Eugenia clusiæfolia, A. Gray (allied to E. Jambolana).
Eugenia sp. . . vulgo “Tsugi.” A littoral tree.
Eugenia, aff. E. Richii, A. Gr.: vulgo “Malapo.” A tree eighty feet
high, with buttresses, growing on coral islets.
Barringtonia speciosa, F.
Barringtonia cf. B. edulis, Seem. and B. excelsa, Huds. (New
Hebrides): vulgo “Borolong.” A tree thirty to thirty-five feet in
height, growing in plantations. Flowers gathered into very
conspicuous pendent yellow spikes, two and a half feet long. Kernel
of fruit edible.
Barringtonia aff. B. racemosæ, Bl.: vulgo “Misioko.” A tree forty
feet high, growing near coast.
Barringtonia?? vulgo “Sioko.” A tree fifteen to twenty feet high,
growing in plantations. Fruit edible.
MELASTOMACEÆ.
Medinilla sp. . . A climbing plant around the trunks of trees.
LYTHRACEÆ.
Pemphis acidula, Forst.
CUCURBITACEÆ.
Cucumis Melo, L., forma?
ARALIACEÆ.
Panax fruticosum, L.
Plerandra, near Pickeringii, A. Gray: vulgo “Fo.”
Araliacea (dub?): vulgo “Bubolio.” A littoral tree, fifteen feet
high.
RUBIACEÆ.
Hedyotis Auricularia, L.
Ophiorrhiza aff. O. cantonensis, Hance.
Ophiorrhiza sp. . .
Dolicholobium aff. D. longissimo an D. longissimum, Seem. forma
macranthus: vulgo “Lowasi.” A tree fifty feet high and under, common
along the sides of streams.
Geophila reniformis, C. and S.
Morinda citrifolia, L.: vulgo “Urati.”
Guettarda speciosa, L.: vulgo “Orgoi.”
Myrmecodia salomonensis, Becc. A new species separated from M.
samoensis, Becc. Noticed commonly on tall mangrove trees bordering
the sides of streams in the lower part of their courses. The swollen
tuberous stem measures as much as one and a half feet in length, and
is usually occupied by many ants.
Hydnophytum longistylum, Becc. Found on coast trees. Those I
examined contained no ants, but, instead, a few cockroaches. On the
outside of one of them I found a crab.
Hydnophytum Guppyanum, Becc. A new species. Noticed commonly on the
tall mangrove trees bordering the sides of streams in the lower part
of their courses. The swollen tuberous portion of the stem has a
characteristic scaphoid form; those I examined being nearly full of
dirty rain-water, and almost free from ants; a few cockroaches
occurred in all; some of them are one and a half feet in length.
(Hydnophytum inerme, a specimen I obtained from Ugi Island, at the
east end of the group in 1882, and identified by Mr. C. Moore of
Sydney.)
Psychotria sp. . . vulgo “Popotu.”
Psychotria, aff. P. Forsterinæ, A. Gr.
Bikkia sp. . . A littoral tree, twenty feet high, with large
handsome white flowers.
COMPOSITÆ.
Vernonia cinerea, Less
Adenostemma viscosum, Forst.
Blumea aft. B. glandulosæ, D.C.
Eclipta alba, Hassk.
Bidens pilosa, L.
Wedelia biflora, D.C. A very common littoral plant, but in one
instance I found it 1600 feet above the sea.
GOODENIACEÆ.
Scævola Kœnigii, Vahl. vulgo “Nano.” A very common littoral shrub.
SAPOTACEÆ.
Sapotacea? Seeds only obtained.
Sapotacea (dub): vulgo “Maranato.” A forest tree, a hundred feet
high with large plank-like buttresses.
APOCYNEÆ.
Ochrosia parviflora, Hensl: vulgo “Pokosola.”
Ochrosia aff. 0. (Lactaria) calycarpæ (Miq.). Tree 30 feet high.
Ochrosia sp. . . vulgo “Bararai.” A tree 30 to 40 feet high.
Cerbera Odollam, Gærtn: vulgo “Lukapau.”
Cerbera sp. . . vulgo “Anoumi.” A tree about 50 feet high, growing
away from the coast.
Lyonsia??: vulgo “Awi-sulu.” A stout climber: its bark supplies the
fibres used for making fishing-lines.
ASCLEPIADEÆ.
Hoya australis, Br.? (H. bicarinata, A. Gr.) forma: vulgo “Alulu.”
Hoya sp. . . (narrow-leaved species).
Hoya Guppyi, Oliv. sp. nov. Ramulis ultimis parce hirtellis dense
glabratis, foliis petiolatis coriaceis late ellipticis breviter
acuminatis cuspidatisve base late rotundatis subcordatisve supra
glabris, subtus præcipue versus basin plus minus hirtellis, umbellis
pedunculatis, pedunculis pedicellisque glabris, calyce parvo tubo
corollæ 2-4-plo breviore 5-partito lobis ovatis obtusis ciliolatis,
corolla rotata lobis patentibus ovatis v. late ovato-lanceolatis
acutatis medio depressis intus hirtellis extus glabris sinubus
reflexis, coronæ foliolis cartilagineo-incrassatis disco ovato
lanceolatis concavis obtusis basi angustatis dorso profunde
excavatis marginibus lateralibus utrinque carinatis, folliculis
subteretibus parce hirtellis.
Folia 3½-4½ poll. longis, 2¼-2½ poll. latis; petiolo hirtello ½-¾
poll. longo; umbella 10-14 flora; pedunculo 2 poll. longo,
pedicellis 1½ poll. longis. Corolla 1½ poll. diam. rubro-purpurea.
Follicula 8-9 poll, longa.
Faro Island: Bougainville Straits: “A climber on coast trees.”
LOGANIACEÆ.
Couthovia, nearly allied to C. Seemanni A.Gr., if not a variety with
inflorescence throughout tawny-puberulous. Vulgo “Palinoromus.” A
forest tree 70 feet high.
Fagræa Berteriana A.Gr.? vulgo “Bubulata.”
Fagræa morindæfolia, Bl. forma. Vulgo “Kirofe.”
Fagræa sp. . . vulgo “Mamuli.” A tree twenty-five feet high.
BORAGINEÆ.
Tournefortia argentea, L. f. vulgo “Diave.”
Cordia subcordata, Lam.
Cordia? (Corollas picked off ground.)
CONVOLVULACEÆ.
Ipomœa denticulata, Chy.
Ipomœa (Calonyction) grandiflora, Lam?
Ipomœa pes-capræ, Roth.
Ipomœa sp. . .
SOLANACEÆ.
Solanum repandum, F? vulgo “Kirkami.” }
Solanum repandum, F? vulgo “Kobureki.”}
Natives distinguish these two plants, which grow in their
plantations, as shrubs 4 to 6 feet high. Fruits edible when cooked.
Solanum vitiense, Seem. vulgo “Koriele.”
Physalis angulata, L.
SCROPHULARINEÆ.
Vandellia Crustacea, Bth.
CYRTANDREÆ.
Cyrtandra v. gen. nov. aff.
ACANTHACEÆ.
Adenosma cærulea, R.Br.?
Bæa Commersoni, R.Br. fide F. von. Mueller.
Hemigraphis reptans, T. And.
Hemigraphis reptans, forma.
Ruellia sp. R. arvensis. S. Moore var? v. sp. nov. aff. Growing
beside a stream, 1½ feet high, with light-yellow flowers.
Acanthus ebracteatus, V.
Eranthemum variabile, Br. var.? Very common in the waste ground of
plantations and by the sides of paths: 1½ to 2 feet in height.
VERBENACEÆ.
Premna obtusifolia, R.Br. an P. taitensis Schr? vulgo “Demoko.” A
littoral tree 12 to 15 feet in height.
Vitex an V. acuminata, Br.? vulgo “Fasala.” A large forest tree, a
hundred feet and over in height, with small buttresses, supplying
wood for paddles and canoes.
Clerodendron inerme, Br.
Verbenacea dubia? vulgo “Au-au.” A tree fifty to sixty feet high.
LABIATÆ.
Moschosma polystachyum: Bth: vulgo “Pipituan.”
Ocymum sanctum, L: vulgo “Kiramma.”
Plectranthus v. Coleus? vulgo “Momauri.” Leaves, when crushed, give
a reddish-brown stain, and used for staining the skin. Height 1½
feet.
Plectranthus parviflorus, W.
AMARANTACEÆ.
Amarantus melancholicus, L.
Cyathula prostrata, Bl.
PIPERACEÆ.
Piper Betel var. (Chavica Siriboa, Miq.) vulgo “Kolu.”
MYRISTICACEÆ.
Myristica sp. . . vulgo “Ito-ito.” Coast tree fifteen feet in
height.
Myristica sp. . . vulgo “Baimoloi.” A tree fifty feet high, growing
1600 feet above the sea.
LAURACEÆ.
Litsea sp. . . vulgo “Pitoponkano.” A tall forest tree.
HERNANDIACEÆ.
Hernandia peltata, Meiss: vulgo “Koli.”
EUPHORBIACEÆ.
Euphorbia pilulifera, L.
Euphorbia Atoto, Forst.
Phyllanthus (§ Emblica) sp., allied to P. bæobotryoides, Wall? vulgo
“Mefuan.” A tree 15 to 20 feet high.
Mallotus tiliæfolius, M. Arg. M. acuminatus, Juss? Tree twenty feet
high, growing at the coast on the border of swampy ground.
Macaranga sp. . . vulgo “Balako.” A tree forty to fifty feet high,
with ringed trunk.
Aleurites? vulgo “Aligesi.” A stout climber on forest trees. Kernels
of fruit edible.
Sapium indicum, Willd? vulgo “Aligesi.” A tree seventy feet high,
growing on the verge of a mangrove swamp.
Excæcaria Agallocha, L.
Codiæum sp. . . (♂)
Codiæum variegatum. A. Juss: vulgo “Tiatakush.”
URTICEÆ.
Trema (Sponia) sp. . .: vulgo “Kio.” A tree seventy to eighty feet
high.
Ficus nr F. theophrastoides. Seem? vulgo “Tutubolo.” Growing in
plantations. Probably 10 to 12 feet high.
Ficus sp. . . vulgo “Uri.” A tree eighty to ninety feet high, with
buttress roots. Growing on coral islets.
Ficus sp. . . vulgo “Sii.” A banyan growing at or near the coast and
on coral islets. Multiple trunks, some cylindrical and erect, others
plank-like and arching. Height eighty or ninety feet and over.
Ficus sp. . . vulgo “Chim.” A banyan often growing on the crest of
inland ridges. The multiple trunks are all cylindrical and erect,
and individually smaller than in the case of the Sii: they are also
more closely arranged. Height a hundred and fifty feet and over.
Ficus? vulgo “Ilimo.” A tall forest tree over a hundred feet in
height, with magnificent buttresses.
Artocarpus incisa, L. There appears to be but one variety of the
Bread-fruit tree in the islands of Bougainville Straits. The fruit
is stalked, seedless, and rough externally, the leaves pinnatisect,
with smooth surfaces. Fruit ripens in August. Vulgo “Balia.”
Artocarpus sp. . . vulgo “Tafati.” Perhaps a variety of the
Jack-fruit Tree (A. integrifolia). Sixty feet high. Fruit larger
than the common bread-fruit, but more irregular in shape: seeded:
edible.
Fleurya interrupta, Gaud. (F. spicata, var.)
Elatostemma integrifolium, Wedd.?
Elatostemma? vulgo “Obu-obu.”
Procris integrifolia, Don??
Pellionia sp. . .
Leucosyke an L. corymbulosa? Coast tree fifteen feet high.
Pipturus velutinus, Wedd? v. P. argenteus? vulgo “Dilipoa.” A tree
thirty to fifty feet high; trunk partially ringed; aerial roots.
CONIFERÆ.
Gnetum Gnemon, L. vulgo “Mariwa.”
Gnetum sp. . .: vulgo “Kunuka.” A tree sixty feet high, prominently
ringed. Kernels of fruits eaten by the natives.
CASUARINEÆ.
Casuarina angustifolia F.
ORCHIDEÆ.
Dendrobium hispidum, Rich. (fide F. v. Mueller).
Dendrobium sp. . . near D. dactylodes, R. fil?
Cœlogyne sp. . .
Cleisostoma sp. . .
SCITAMINEÆ.
Alpinia sp. . . vulgo “Karu.”
Alpinia sp. . . vulgo “Vitoko.”
Alpinia sp. . . vulgo “Konkoku.”
Costus or Alpinia sp. . . vulgo “Makisa.”
Alpinia Boia, Seem? v. sp. aff. vulgo “Pai-yang-pipiula.”
Riedelia curviflora, Oliv? vulgo “Kokuru.”
Canna indica, L.? vulgo “Sati.”
Marantacea aff. Phrynio? vulgo “Sinoili.” Flowers in two collateral
pairs in each spathe with linear bracts between the pairs. Ovary
shortly stipitate, ovule erect. Fruit 3-locular, cells 1-seeded,
seeds with crustaceous muricate testa.
Heliconia? vulgo “Kiari.” Clinogyne grandis Bth and Hook? (near C.
dichotoma and affs) vulgo “Nini.”
Scitaminea (dub): vulgo “Temuli.” A plant 1 to 1¼ feet high growing
in the waste ground of plantations. The roots have medicinal
properties, according to the accounts of the natives, and they have
a yellow juice which is used for staining.
Scitaminea (dubia): vulgo “Nakia:” a wild ginger.
AMARYLLIDEÆ.
Crinum sp. . . vulgo “Papau.” Grows near the beach. Height four
feet.
Curculigo sp. . . vulgo “Bulami.” Growing 2 to 2½ feet high on the
banks of streams.
LILIACEÆ.
Cordyline sp. . . vulgo “Dendiki.” Tree twenty feet high; growing
near the coast.
COMMELYNACEÆ.
Commelyna nudiflora, L.