Passing through the straits of Saleir, between a cliff-bound island and
the south-eastern Cape of Celebes, the returning steamer in due time
reaches her moorings in Sourabaya, and a rapid railway journey through
Java connects with the outgoing boat from Batavia to Padang, a three
days' voyage through a chain of green islands breaking the force of the
monsoon on a desolate and harbourless shore. The forest-clad ranges of
Sumatra draw nearer at Benkoelen, buried in cocoa-palms on the rim of a
quiet bay, within a terrific reef which makes landing impossible in
stormy weather. Fort and Residency, villas and gardens, manifest
Benkoelen as an oasis of civilisation, the steeply-tiled roofs
remaining as relics of the English occupation a century ago. Beyond
the little military settlement, the Sumatran mountains tower in
majestic gloom beyond a broken line of bristling crags, like granite
outworks guarding the eleven hundred miles of coast-line facing the
Indian Ocean. The rugged backbone of mysterious Sumatra, descending
sharply to the western sea, overlooks a vast alluvial plain on the
eastern side, where rice and sugar-cane, coffee and tobacco, flourish
between the wide deltas of sluggish rivers, though rushing streams and
wild cascades characterise the opposite shore. Ridges and bastions of
rock, above profound valleys, culminate in cloud-capped Indrapura, at a
height of 12,000 feet. Geologists affirm the vast age of Sumatra,
indicated by the Silurian rock, the bastions of granite, the
extraordinary vegetation fossilised in the huge coal-beds, and the
sandstone formation, often a thousand feet thick, carved by time and
weather into fantastic ravines. Inexhaustible mineral wealth lies
hidden in these weird ranges, together with the costly chemical
products of a volcanic soil, but the rich treasures of the virgin rocks
are for the most part unknown and unexplored. Columns of smoke rise
continually from numerous active volcanos, and the beautiful mountain
lakes fill extinct craters. The great island, lying north-west and
south-east, possesses a glorious climate, and the superb vegetation
shows a distinctive character from that of Java. The Dutch, though
supreme on the coast, have never yet subdued the interior, and
unconquerable Acheen remains a perpetual centre of unrest. The flower
of the Malay race belongs to Sumatra, and the wild Battek tribes of
alien origin are fast merging themselves into the dominant stock,
though the Redjanger clan, retaining curious customs of a remote past,
and possessing a written character, cut with a _kris_ on strips of
bamboo, is slow to assimilate itself to the Malayan element. The
Sumatran language shows traces of Indian and Arabic influence, and that
the early civilisation of the huge island was of Hindu origin is
evidenced by innumerable Sanskrit words, and by the fact that the
consecrated pipal tree, the "Ficus Religiosa" of India, remains to this
day the sacred tree of the Batteks. Native chronicles record the
descent of Sumatran princes from Alexander the Great, but though the
pages of Javanese history are comparatively legible, those of Sumatra,
designated in early days as "the older Java," resemble a dim
palimpsest, marred by erasure or hiatus, and barely decipherable
beneath the lettering on the surface of the age-worn parchment.
Little _campongs_ of palm-thatched huts stand on piles at the water's
edge, and skirt the over-shadowing forest; fairy islands, encircled
with red-stemmed _arén_-palms, lie like green garlands on the indigo
sea, dotted with the yellow sails of native _proas_, and the little
train which conveys us to Padang, the western capital, seems an
incongruous feature in a scene suggestive of primeval peace and
solitude. A sylvan charm belongs even to this Sumatran township, for
the wooden houses, with pointed roofs of dried palm-leaves, and broad
eaves forming shady verandahs, stand far apart in flowery gardens,
aflame with orange or scarlet cannas, and fragrant with golden-hearted
frangipanni. The sweeping boughs of giant cocoanut trees make a green
twilight beneath their interwoven fronds, Bougainvillea drapes
crumbling wall and forest tree with curtains of roseate purple, and
thatched stalls of tropical fruits and glowing flowers brighten the
dusky avenues with patches of vivid colour. The determined aspect of
the Sumatran people denotes the superior calibre of the ancestral stock
which colonised the Archipelago, for foreign intercourse, which
elsewhere modified national character, scarcely affected the Sumatran
Malays, independent of the servile yoke imposed by the mighty princes
of Java. The forty _Soekoes_, or clans, of Sumatra, are sub-divided
into branches consisting of numerous families, all descended from a
common stock in the female line. This curiously constituted pedigree is
known as the Matriarchate, an ancient social system only retained in
Western Sumatra, and among certain South American tribes. The resolute
mien and dignified carriage of the Sumatran woman denote clear
consciousness of her supreme importance. The cringing submission so
painfully characteristic of Oriental womanhood is wholly unknown, and
though nominally of Mohammedan faith, the humble position prescribed by
the Korán to the female sex is a forgotten article of Sumatra's
hereditary creed. After marriage (forbidden between members of the same
clan) both man and woman remain in their own family circle. The husband
is only an occasional visitor, and the wife is regarded as the head of
the house. Her children remain under her exclusive care, and inherit
her property, together with the half of what their father and mother
earn together. The other half goes to the brothers and sisters of the
husband, whose titles descend to his own brothers and sisters. Sumatra
is veritably El Dorado to the Eastern wife and mother, conversant with
every detail respecting the management of land or money, and jealously
guarding the time-honoured rights and privileges of her exalted
position.
The hereditary chieftains of Sumatran clans exercise a patriarchal rule
of uncompromising severity, and combine in every district to form the
_Laras_ or local Council, the distance separating forest and mountain
_campongs_ often necessitating sub-division into a village assembly.
The _Laras_, and those rural chieftains nominated by popular consent,
possess a seat on the Supreme Council of the Dutch Government, thus
forming the transitional element between Asiatic and European rule.
There is no Sumatran nobility, and although the hereditary chief of a
clan is invested with official authority, the stringent regulations of
the Matriarchate acknowledge no superiority of social status as an
appanage of his power.
The hothouse atmosphere of Padang is gladly exchanged for the freshness
of the mountain heights, approached by a cog-wheel railway, and
affording truer pictures of Sumatran life than the hybrid port of the
steaming Lowlands. The luxuriant verdure of the swampy plain basks in
the sunshine of a blazing March day, and children in gaudy _sarongs_
drive a brisk trade at palm-thatched wayside stations, with bamboo
trays of sliced pineapple sprinkled with capsicum, the approved
"pick-me-up" of Sumatra. The little train burrows through a
forest-lined pass, and skirts the chafing waters of the Anei river,
foaming over swarthy boulders. The turbulent stream, now deeply sunk
between granite cliffs, rises with terrific violence when lashed by the
wild mountain wind known as the _bandjir_, and rushes up the rocky
walls, overthrowing bridges, and dragging along immense crags with
resistless impetus. The shrill laughter of the black bush-apes echoes
from sombre masses of matted foliage, as the train ascends the lofty
range, and curves round the basin of a sparkling waterfall, dashing
from a fern-draped height. Granite cliffs soar above tropical jungle
and solemn forest; the narrow gap of the Anei widens into a luxuriant
valley; sago-palms rustle in the breeze, and tree-ferns spread their
green canopies over the brawling river. The splendid scenery is viewed
to advantage from a platform of the foremost railway carriage, the
train being pushed up the mountains by an engine in the rear. Beyond
the climbing forests, a bare plateau affords a glimpse of ever-burning
Merapi, with wooded flanks and lava-strewn summit, from whence a grey
cloud of smoke mounts in a spiral curl to the azure sky. Beyond this
point of view lies the green plain of beautiful Fort de Kock, the gem
of the Sumatran Highlands, to be numbered henceforth among those ideal
scenes which remain permanently photographed on mind and memory. The
crystalline atmosphere seems the very breath of life after a long
sojourn in the steaming tropics, and Fort de Kock, under the shadow of
mysterious Merapi, an Elysium of health and repose. The little Hotel
Jansen offers clean and comfortable accommodation, the kindly German
hostess proving a model landlady. As a Residency and the headquarters
of a Dutch garrison. Fort de Kock provides all the necessaries of life,
and the broad military roads of the vicinity simplify exploration. The
little white settlement beneath the wooded volcano possesses a bright
and cheery character, in keeping with the exhilarating climate, and
the beautiful Sturm Park, from palm-crowned hill and flowery terrace,
commands an exquisite prospect of the blue peaks belonging to the
borderland of those Native States extending to the Dutch possessions on
the Eastern coast. The curious houses of the Sumatran Highlands, with
their adjacent rice-barns, form distinctive features of this unique
island. The ridge of the steep thatch rises in sharp horns, interlaced
with black fibres of _arén_ palm, or covered with glittering tin. These
tapering points are considered talismans of good fortune, a fresh horn
being added on every occasion of marriage, for the married daughters,
under the provisions of the Matriarchate, remain in the home of their
childhood, and portions of the central division belonging to the house
are reserved for their use. Manifold horns frequently bristle above the
lofty roof, and the front of the main building is the common living
room for unmarried members of the large household. Houses and
rice-barns stand on high poles, after the Malay fashion, which
originated in the malarious districts of the Lowlands. The typical
rice-barns are lavishly decorated with gilding, carving, and colour,
inlaid with glass mosaic, and edged with balls of red and blue crystal,
the upward sweep of the slender horns sharply silhouetted against the
glowing cobalt of heaven. In every _kota_ (the Sumatran word signifying
a fortified place, or village), the beauty of the picturesque roofs
culminates in _Messighit_ and _Balei_, respectively the Mosque and Hall
of Consultation for the Village Council. The roofs of the Mosque rise
on thatched tiers, mounted on slender pine-stems, and the long _Balei_,
with mossy thatch prolonged into an open verandah on either side, shows
a multitude of curving horns pointing to Heaven, and symbolically
invoking celestial aid for the solemn assembly gathered beneath them,
when the full moon floods upland Sumatra with molten silver. Primitive
hospitality provides a _roemah negari_, or "House of Strangers," in
every village rich enough to erect this refuge for the toil-worn
wanderer, but where no special resting-place for pilgrims can be
offered, lodging can always be had in the open _Balei_, on application
to any member of the Village Council. The primitive simplicity of
Sumatran life remains practically unchanged in these remote hamlets of
the Western Highlands, and though Fort de Kock poses as the nucleus of
modern progress, European influences glance off the indurated surface
of native character like water poured over a granite slab.
Across the rice-plain of Agam, dotted with brown _kotas_, crowned by
myriads of interweaving horns, we reach the scattered village of
Paja-Kombo, shadowed by dense woods of cocoanut palms, and famed for
one of the most picturesque native markets in the East. The women of
Paja-Kombo are noted for their beauty, enhanced by the splendour of
many-coloured _sarongs_, gleaming with gold and silver thread. Gay
turbans swathe the stately heads, and the golden filagree of barbaric
breastplates, heavy earrings, and broad armlets, lights up the shadowy
gloom of stone galleries and _al fresco_ stalls, beneath the drooping
boughs of ancient waringen-trees. The Sumatran Malays are energetic
traders, and the dignified personality of the Sumatran woman is
perpetually in evidence. Keen, thrifty, economical, and thoroughly
versed in all the details of commerce, she shows herself the
predominant partner in domestic life, and to her all decisions on
financial matters are referred, in accordance with the laws of the
Matriarchate, which protects her independence. The husbands and fathers
in attendance on their womankind at the great Market, submissively
defer to the gentler sex, which in Sumatra has ever held the reins of
social and domestic management, exercising authority wisely and well
within the wide area deputed to feminine sway. The Fair of Paja-Kombo
is a treasury of native Art in most delicate filigree, silver-threaded
cloth, baskets or fans of scented grass, and the heavy jewellery of
burnished brass which copies the designs of the many golden heirlooms
treasured by Sumatran womanhood. Streets of palm-thatched stalls,
alleys of eating-houses, and the wide enclosure of a Mule-Fair, cover
an open meadow, fringed by great sago-palms, the central grain and
rice Market crowded with picturesque figures in striped _sarong_ and
gold-flecked turban. The feast of colour provided by Paja-Kombo is
scarcely surpassed even by the famous Fair of Darjeeling, the
remoteness of the little settlement in the Sumatran Highlands
preserving the unfaded charm of an immemorial past. The wonderful Gap
of Harau may be reached by cart from Paja-Kombo; the palm-shaded road
narrows at the mighty gorge, where vermilion cliffs, grooved and ribbed
as though by some convulsion of Nature, tower up in colossal majesty on
either side. Splendid waterfalls flash down in foam and thunder,
scoring deep channels in the perpendicular heights, and bathing
thickets of tree-fern and maidenhair in pearly spray. A wild river
swirls through the deep ravine, opening towards the ethereal blue of
clustering peaks, which lie fold upon fold in the hazy distance of the
Native States, and disclose a mystic pathway into dreamland.
Another deep gully of yellow tufa-rock behind Fort de Kock, forms the
first stage of the romantic route to Lake Manindjoe. Crossing the twin
rivers which have carved their winding gorge in the bosom of the hills,
the rude track through the mountains ascends to smooth plateaux forming
a flight of gigantic stairs, supported by rocky girders like natural
cross-beams. In early days of Dutch colonisation these successive
points of vantage, occupied by hostile tribes, were stormed in vain by
the invading army, and eventually only captured by surprise. The beauty
of upland Sumatra culminates at this mountain lake, lying within the
foundered crater of the Danau. The volcanic walls rise fourteen hundred
feet above the dark blue mere, a glitting sheet of _lapis lazuli_ set
within the black cleft of the profound chasm. Brown and purple rocks
enamelled with orange lichen, and garlanded with waving verdure, open
to display a mysterious vision of the glistening sea, with one white
sail like a butterfly's wing, crossing the distant waves. The flushing
rose-tints of a tropical sunset glorify the landscape into transcendent
beauty; the rude sculpture of the river crags, the black shadows of
primeval forest, and the far-off gleam of the Indian Ocean, composing
an ideal picture, enhanced by vague impressions of Infinity and
Eternity.
The great Lake of Sinkarah, flanked by volcanic ridges, and by the
dense foliage of palm forests and coffee plantations, also presents a
succession of entrancing landscapes. White and purple orchids wreathe
the forest trees, troops of red monkeys chatter among the boughs, and
woodland vistas reveal leagues of emerald rice and golden millet.
Beyond Sinkarah lies the famous coal district of the island, where
Chinamen, convicts, and Hindu coolies, in perpetual bustle and
commotion, manifest an activity unique in the thinly-populated
interior of Sumatra, dependent on the labour of alien races. Javanese
act as woodmen, gardeners, and road-makers; the Klings serve as
cowherds and drivers of ox-waggons; the Bengalese prove efficient
policemen, and the Boyans skilful carpenters; the clearing of the
forest pertaining to Malays and Batteks, also responsible for the
building of the marvellous rice-barns, the apotheosis of Sumatran
architecture. The ordinary tourist omits Sumatra from his itinerary.
Occasional elephant-hunters penetrate the dense forests of the
interior, and engineers or tobacco-planters flock to the monotonous
levels of the eastern coast, but the glorious Western Highlands, the
Sumatran _Bovenland_, is seldom visited. Warlike Acheen, for ever at
feud with the Dutch Government, is forbidden ground to the European
traveller. The unconquerable independence of the Achinese, fiercely
resenting the sovereignty of Holland, proves an insoluble problem to
the Dutch methods of subjugation. The bold and lawless character of
this rebellious clan defies military discipline. The spirit of
insurrection animates every man, woman, and child of the brave but
treacherous race, and Acheen remains the dark centre of countless
tragedies, due to the spurious patriotism which counts a stab in the
dark, a poisoned arrow, or a cruel betrayal, as heroic and laudable
modes of resistance to the hated invader of Sumatra's ancient
liberties. The forest-clad interior of the vast island remains an
unknown wilderness. Cannibals still lurk in the black depths of the
pathless jungle; weird tribal customs linger unchanged in barbarous
_campongs_, where strange gods are worshipped with the immemorial rites
of an ageless past, rude carvings and weird symbols showing the
personification of those natural phenomena deified by primeval tribes.
Sumatra, with her wealth of mines and forests and her important
geographical position, remains as yet an almost undiscovered country,
and though her undeveloped resources excite the cupidity and arouse the
envy of European nations, political greed and private enterprise have
proved powerless to open up the hidden treasures of the vast island,
apparently intended by Nature to become the key of the Southern Seas.