Outside the fairy circle of the exquisite Moluccas, a tiny cluster of
palm-clad islets gems the wide blue spaces of the lonely sea, unbroken
for many leagues by any foothold possible for human habitation. The
Dutch steamer only calls thrice a year at the remote Soela-Bessir
group, in quest of rattan, a plentiful product of these fertile isles,
where the leafy ladders of the aspiring parasite climb to the green
crowns of the tallest palms, wrapping them in the fatal embrace which
eventually levels the strongest monarch of the tropical forest to the
earth. The thick mantle of glossy foliage often hides the multitude of
hooks, loops, and nooses which the pliant cane flings round branch and
stem, gripped by long ropes of flexible fibre, hardening into thick
coils, rigid and unyielding as iron. The immense export of rattan for
chairs, couches, and innumerable domestic purposes, indirectly results
in the preservation of myriad palm-trees, by releasing them from the
deadly grasp of the tenacious creepers. The waving cocoanut trees of
Senana, the principal island of the Soela-Bessir group, kiss the blue
water with sombre plumes, bowed down by the wealth of heavy fruit lying
in green and golden clusters between frond and stem. The steamer
anchors far from the shore, and the launch proving unable to cross the
shallow bay, the landing of passengers can only be accomplished by two
crossed oars, carried and steadied by four of the crew. The mode of
progression is wobbling and risky, but the improbability of revisiting
Senana supplied a mental argument of unfailing force in balancing pros
and cons. The secluded island, so slightly influenced by the outside
world, changes but little with the lapse of time, and the triple-tiered
roofs of numerous thatched _Messighits_ rising above the palm-leaf huts
of the brown _campong_, assert the hereditary creed. The green banner
of Islam was planted here centuries ago by a fanatical horde of Arab
pirates, who added religious enthusiasm to love of plunder and thirst
of conquest. Their fiery zeal, though not according to knowledge,
ensured a vigorous growth of the foreign offshoot from the questionable
faith of these Arab corsairs, who left indelible traces on the whole of
the Malay Archipelago. The _Messighits_ of Senana are now only the
ruined shrines of a decadent creed, but the simple islanders remain
nominal adherents to the Monotheism of the past. Canoes and _blotos_,
rowed by lithe brown figures, come out to welcome the steamer, and a
fantastic boat, with carven prow, darts from beneath a green bower of
tangled foliage, laden with golden bananas. Merry-faced little savages
line the shore, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the white strangers,
who supply them with the amusement afforded by a travelling circus to
the more sophisticated children of the West. An eager desire to please
and gratify the extraordinary visitors, mingles with the uncontrollable
delight, manifested in capering, dancing, and gay laughter, as they
beckon us to follow them through the narrow lanes of the long
_campong_. Naked brown forms dash into their native huts at sundry
points of the route, to summon friends and kinsfolk, until the
procession swells into formidable proportions, for the whole _campong_
is eventually in tow, with the exception of the men and boys occupied
in lading cargo. Through the dappled sunlight and shadows of the
sweeping palms which flank the glassy bay, we are personally conducted
to the principal _Messighit_, a bare, whitewashed building, without any
decoration beyond the blue and white tiles outlining the horse-shoe
arch of the _Mihrab_ looking towards Mecca. The exterior with three
roofs of mossy thatch supported on bamboo poles, offers a shelter from
the sun on a flight of crumbling steps, overshadowed by the spreading
eaves. A big cocoanut frond serves as an improvised broom in a dusky
hand, and the central step is carefully swept before the stranger, with
respectful salaams and gesticulations, is invited to sit down. A
turbaned _Imaum_, the custodian of the decaying sanctuary, comes forth
from his dilapidated hut among the palms behind the shrine, at the
unwonted excitement breaking the silence and solitude of the ancient
mosque, but he evidently belongs to the dreamland of the past, and
retires quickly from the disturbing present to meditations or slumbers
in his obscure dwelling, closing the bamboo door against all intruders.
This day's incident of the cruise in the Malay Archipelago seems
absolutely cut off from ordinary experience--a solitary Englishwoman,
resting in the shadow of the rustic mosque, and surrounded by a
half-barbaric tribe of unfamiliar aspect, the dark woolly hair, flat
noses, wide mouths, and dazzling teeth suggesting a liberal admixture
of negro or Papuan blood. Native intelligence simplifies a halting
conversation, carried on by means of the indispensable Malayan
phrase-book. Wistful eyes rest on the stranger whose lot is cast under
happier auspices, and unmistakeable characteristics manifest the
Soela-Bessir islanders as a gentle and teachable race. Alas! the Dutch
Government plants neither schools nor missions in distant Senana, too
far from the beaten track to commend itself to the religious or
educational care of a nation apparently indifferent to the claims of
small communities, in the vast Archipelago subject to Holland. Only the
quarterly call of the Dutch steamer stirs the stagnation of ages on the
Soela-Bessir isles, but although the young, sharing in that wondrous
heritage of mirth and gladness peculiar to the joyous early life of the
tropics, recognise no limitations in their lot, the mothers sadly
repeat the complaint heard elsewhere that no chance of improvement is
given to them. The steamer, frequently bringing hither the inhabitants
of more favoured islands in the interests of trade, already begins to
stir feelings of unrest, and vague longings for the better things as
yet withheld. A chieftain's daughter joins the throng round the old
_messighit_. A red-cotton drapery, thrown over bronze limbs, is her
only garment, but a diamond glistening on her dark hand looks
incongruous with the scanty clothing. The gem seems a talisman or
heirloom, but a request to examine it terrifies the owner, and she
rushes away into the woods to safeguard the precious possession from
perils suggested by the presence of the white pilgrim from across the
seas. The delicious breeze which always spring up after ten o'clock in
these latitudes renders walking a delight, the two following hours
being invariably cooler than the trying time between eight and ten,
when the fierce sun, on a level with the face, creates an atmosphere of
blistering glare. The brown procession forms an orderly escort to the
lading shed beneath a clump of tall cocoa-palms, and the kindly
merchant who negotiates the commerce of the Soela-Bessir isles for the
Dutch Government, sends a native boy up the smooth stem of a colossal
tree in search of a fresh cocoanut, which fills two tumblers with
refreshing sap. The thatched _campong_ stands against a background of
green hills and dense woods, rich in tropical verdure, but lacking the
loveliness of the Moluccas. The return to the ship involves a _bloto_
across the bay, with many misgivings as to the seaworthy capacities of
the clumsy craft, but four bamboo safety-poles, fastened by forked
sticks to the sides of the hollowed log, suffice to steady it enough to
avoid capsizal. In the Soela-Bessir Isles, as in many other far-off and
forgotten regions, the genius of commerce begins to awaken the desire
of civilisation in untutored hearts, for Trade sharing in the romance
no longer regarded as the exclusive attribute of Art or Science, now
helps to fuse opposing elements into unity and order. The simple
inhabitants of distant Senana seem only waiting for an outstretched
hand to lift them to a higher level of creed and culture, for the
modern pioneers of missionary enterprise raise the superstructure of
Christianity with unexampled success on the substratum of truth
contained even in imperfect and erroneous creeds. That solid foundation
stone of belief in the One Eternal God, laid by Arab pirates centuries
ago, amid the lust of rapine and the smoke of war, which ever heralded
the onward march of conquering Islam, should serve as a firm basis for
building up these simple children of Nature into the mystical sanctuary
of the Christian Church. The lapse of time obliterates countless
landmarks of Moslem creed in localities removed from external contact,
but amid the dust of disintegrating forces and forgotten forms, the
central Truth remains imbedded, like a wedge of gold trodden in the
mire, but retaining intrinsic value and untarnishable purity.