(NOVEMBER 1861 to JANUARY 1862.)
The mail steamer from Batavia to Singapore took me to Muntok (or as on
English maps, "Minto"), the chief town and port of Banca. Here I stayed
a day or two, until I could obtain a boat to take me across the straits,
and up the river to Palembang. A few walks into the country showed me
that it was very hilly, and full of granitic and laterite rocks, with a
dry and stunted forest vegetation; and I could find very few insects.
A good-sized open sailing-boat took me across to the mouth of the
Palembang river where, at a fishing village, a rowing-boat was hired to
take me up to Palembang--a distance of nearly a hundred miles by water.
Except when the wind was strong and favourable we could only proceed
with the tide, and the banks of the river were generally flooded
Nipa-swamps, so that the hours we were obliged to lay at anchor passed
very heavily. Reaching Palembang on the 8th of November, I was lodged
by the Doctor, to whom I had brought a letter of introduction, and
endeavoured to ascertain where I could find a good locality for
collecting. Everyone assured me that I should have to go a very long way
further to find any dry forest, for at this season the whole country
for many miles inland was flooded. I therefore had to stay a week at
Palembang before I could determine my future movements.
The city is a large one, extending for three or four miles along a fine
curve of the river, which is as wide as the Thames at Greenwich. The
stream is, however, much narrowed by the houses which project into it
upon piles, and within these, again, there is a row of houses built upon
great bamboo rafts, which are moored by rattan cables to the shore or to
piles, and rise and fall with the tide.
The whole riverfront on both sides is chiefly formed of such houses, and
they are mostly shops open to the water, and only raised a foot above
it, so that by taking a small boat it is easy to go to market and
purchase anything that is to be had in Palembang. The natives are true
Malays, never building a house on dry land if they can find water to set
it in, and never going anywhere on foot if they can reach the place in
a boat. A considerable portion of the population are Chinese and Arabs,
who carry on all the trade; while the only Europeans are the civil and
military officials of the Dutch Government. The town is situated at the
head of the delta of the river, and between it and the sea there is
very little ground elevated above highwater mark; while for many
miles further inland, the banks of the main stream and its numerous
tributaries are swampy, and in the wet season flooded for a considerable
distance. Palembang is built on a patch of elevated ground, a few miles
in extent, on the north bank of the river. At a spot about three miles
from the town this turns into a little hill, the top of which is held
sacred by the natives, shaded by some fine trees, and inhabited by a
colony of squirrels which have become half-tame. On holding out a few
crumbs of bread or any fruit, they come running down the trunk, take
the morsel out of your fingers, and dart away instantly. Their tails
are carried erect, and the hair, which is ringed with grey, yellow, and
brown, radiates uniformly around them, and looks exceedingly pretty.
They have somewhat of the motions of mice, coming on with little starts,
and gazing intently with their large black eyes before venturing to
advance further. The manner in which Malays often obtain the confidence
of wild animals is a very pleasing trait in their character, and is due
in some degree to the quiet deliberation of their manners, and their
love of repose rather than of action. The young are obedient to the
wishes of their elders, and seem to feel none of that propensity to
mischief which European boys exhibit. How long would tame squirrels
continue to inhabit trees in the vicinity of an English village, even
if close to the church? They would soon be pelted and driven away, or
snared and confined in a whirling cage. I have never heard of these
pretty animals being tamed in this way in England, but I should think it
might be easily done in any gentleman's park, and they would certainly
be as pleasing and attractive as they would be uncommon.
After many inquiries, I found that a day's journey by water above
Palembang there commenced a military road which extended up to the
mountains and even across to Bencoolen, and I determined to take this
route and travel on until I found some tolerable collecting ground.
By this means I should secure dry land and a good road, and avoid the
rivers, which at this season are very tedious to ascend owing to the
powerful currents, and very unproductive to the collector owing to most
of the lands in their vicinity being underwater. Leaving early in the
morning we did not reach Lorok, the village where the road begins, until
late at night. I stayed there a few days, but found that almost all the
ground in the vicinity not underwater was cultivated, and that the only
forest was in swamps which were now inaccessible. The only bird new
to me which I obtained at Lorok was the fine long-tailed parroquet
(Palaeornis longicauda). The people here assured me that the country was
just the same as this for a very long way--more than a week's journey,
and they seemed hardly to have any conception of an elevated forest-clad
country, so that I began to think it would be useless going on, as the
time at my disposal was too short to make it worth my while to spend
much more of it in moving about. At length, however, I found a man who
knew the country, and was more intelligent; and he at once told me that
if I wanted forest I must go to the district of Rembang, which I found
on inquiry was about twenty-five or thirty miles off.
The road is divided into regular stages of ten or twelve miles each,
and, without sending on in advance to have coolies ready, only this
distance can be travelled in a day. At each station there are houses for
the accommodation of passengers, with cooking-house and stables, and six
or eight men always on guard. There is an established system for coolies
at fixed rates, the inhabitants of the surrounding villages all taking
their turn to be subject to coolie service, as well as that of guards at
the station for five days at a time. This arrangement makes travelling
very easy, and was a great convenience for me. I had a pleasant walk of
ten or twelve miles in the morning, and the rest of the day could stroll
about and explore the village and neighbourhood, having a house ready
to occupy without any formalities whatever. In three days I reached
Moera-dua, the first village in Rembang, and finding the country dry and
undulating, with a good sprinkling of forest, I determined to remain a
short time and try the neighbourhood. Just opposite the station was a
small but deep river, and a good bathing-place; and beyond the village
was a fine patch of forest, through which the road passed, overshadowed
by magnificent trees, which partly tempted me to stay; but after a
fortnight I could find no good place for insects, and very few birds
different from the common species of Malacca. I therefore moved on
another stage to Lobo Raman, where the guard-house is situated quite by
itself in the forest, nearly a mile from each of three villages. This
was very agreeable to me, as I could move about without having every
motion watched by crowds of men, women and children, and I had also
a much greater variety of walks to each of the villages and the
plantations around them.
The villages of the Sumatran Malays are somewhat peculiar and very
picturesque. A space of some acres is surrounded with a high fence, and
over this area the houses are thickly strewn without the least attempt
at regularity. Tall cocoa-nut trees grow abundantly between them, and
the ground is bare and smooth with the trampling of many feet. The
houses are raised about six feet on posts, the best being entirely
built of planks, others of bamboo. The former are always more or less
ornamented with carving and have high-pitched roofs and overhanging
eaves. The gable ends and all the chief posts and beams are sometimes
covered with exceedingly tasteful carved work, and this is still more
the case in the district of Menangkabo, further west. The floor is made
of split bamboo, and is rather shaky, and there is no sign of anything
we should call furniture. There are no benches or chairs or stools, but
merely the level floor covered with mats, on which the inmates sit or
lie. The aspect of the village itself is very neat, the ground being
often swept before the chief houses; but very bad odours abound, owing
to there being under every house a stinking mud-hole, formed by all
waste liquids and refuse matter, poured down through the floor above. In
most other things Malays are tolerably clean--in some scrupulously so;
and this peculiar and nasty custom, which is almost universal, arises,
I have little doubt, from their having been originally a maritime and
water-loving people, who built their houses on posts in the water, and
only migrated gradually inland, first up the rivers and streams, and
then into the dry interior. Habits which were at once so convenient and
so cleanly, and which had been so long practised as to become a portion
of the domestic life of the nation, were of course continued when the
first settlers built their houses inland; and without a regular system
of drainage, the arrangement of the villages is such that any other
system would be very inconvenient.
In all these Sumatran villages I found considerable difficulty in
getting anything to eat. It was not the season for vegetables, and when,
after much trouble, I managed to procure some yams of a curious variety,
I found them hard and scarcely eatable. Fowls were very scarce; and
fruit was reduced to one of the poorest kinds of banana. The natives
(during the wet season at least) live exclusively on rice, as the poorer
Irish do on potatoes. A pot of rice cooked very dry and eaten with salt
and red peppers, twice a day, forms their entire food during a large
part of the year. This is no sign of poverty, but is simply custom; for
their wives and children are loaded with silver armlets from wrist to
elbow, and carry dozens of silver coins strung round their necks or
suspended from their ears.
As I had moved away from Palembang, I had found the Malay spoken by
the common people less and less pure, until at length it became quite
unintelligible, although the continual recurrence of many well-known
words assured me it was a form of Malay, and enabled me to guess at the
main subject of conversation. This district had a very bad reputation
a few years ago, and travellers were frequently robbed and murdered.
Fights between village and village were also of frequent occurrence, and
many lives were lost, owing to disputes about boundaries or intrigues
with women. Now, however, since the country has been divided into
districts under "Controlleurs," who visit every village in turn to hear
complaints and settle disputes, such things are heard of no more. This
is one of the numerous examples I have met with of the good effects of
the Dutch Government. It exercises a strict surveillance over its most
distant possessions, establishes a form of government well adapted to
the character of the people, reforms abuses, punishes crimes, and makes
itself everywhere respected by the native population.
Lobo Raman is a central point of the east end of Sumatra, being about a
hundred and twenty miles from the sea to the east, north, and west. The
surface is undulating, with no mountains or even hills, and there is
no rock, the soil being generally a red friable clay. Numbers of small
streams and rivers intersect the country, and it is pretty equally
divided between open clearings and patches of forest, both virgin and
second growth, with abundance of fruit trees; and there is no lack of
paths to get about in any direction. Altogether it is the very country
that would promise most for a naturalist, and I feel sure that at a more
favourable time of year it would prove exceedingly rich; but it was
now the rainy season, when, in the very best of localities, insects are
always scarce, and there being no fruit on the trees, there was also a
scarcity of birds. During a month's collecting, I added only three or
four new species to my list of birds, although I obtained very fine
specimens of many which were rare and interesting. In butterflies I was
rather more successful, obtaining several fine species quite new to me,
and a considerable number of very rare and beautiful insects. I will
give here some account of two species of butterflies, which, though
very common in collections, present us with peculiarities of the highest
interest.
The first is the handsome Papilio memnon, a splendid butterfly of a deep
black colour, dotted over with lines and groups of scales of a clear
ashy blue. Its wings are five inches in expanse, and the hind wings
are rounded, with scalloped edges. This applies to the males; but
the females are very different, and vary so much that they were once
supposed to form several distinct species. They may be divided into two
groups--those which resemble the male in shape, and, those which differ
entirely from him in the outline of the wings. The first vary much in
colour, being often nearly white with dusky yellow and red markings, but
such differences often occur in butterflies. The second group are much
more extraordinary, and would never be supposed to be the same insect,
since the hind wings are lengthened out into large spoon-shaped tails,
no rudiment of which is ever to be perceived in the males or in the
ordinary form of females. These tailed females are never of the dark
and blue-glossed tints which prevail in the male and often occur in the
females of the same form, but are invariably ornamented with stripes and
patches of white or buff, occupying the larger part of the surface of
the hind wings. This peculiarity of colouring led me to discover that
this extraordinary female closely resembles (when flying) another
butterfly of the same genus but of a different group (Papilio coön), and
that we have here a case of mimicry similar to those so well illustrated
and explained by Mr. Bates.[ Trans. Linn. Soc. vol. xviii. p. 495;
"Naturalist on the Amazons," vol. i. p. 290.]
That the resemblance is not accidental is sufficiently proved by the
fact, that in the North of India, where Papilio coön is replaced by an
allied form, (Papilio Doubledayi) having red spots in place of yellow,
a closely-allied species or variety of Papilio memnon (P. androgeus)
has the tailed female also red spotted. The use and reason of this
resemblance appears to be that the butterflies imitated belong to a
section of the genus Papilio which from some cause or other are not
attacked by birds, and by so closely resembling these in form and colour
the female of Memnon and its ally, also escape persecution. Two other
species of this same section (Papilio antiphus and Papilio polyphontes)
are so closely imitated by two female forms of Papilio theseus (which
comes in the same section with Memnon), that they completely deceived
the Dutch entomologist De Haan, and he accordingly classed them as the
same species!
But the most curious fact connected with these distinct forms is that
they are both the offspring of either form. A single brood of larva
were bred in Java by a Dutch entomologist, and produced males as well as
tailed and tailless females, and there is every reason to believe that
this is always the case, and that forms intermediate in character
never occur. To illustrate these phenomena, let us suppose a roaming
Englishman in some remote island to have two wives--one a black-haired,
red-skinned Indian, the other a woolly-headed, sooty-skinned negress;
and that instead of the children being mulattoes of brown or dusky
tints, mingling the characteristics of each parent in varying degrees,
all the boys should be as fair-skinned and blue-eyed as their father,
while the girls should altogether resemble their mothers. This would be
thought strange enough, but the case of these butterflies is yet more
extraordinary, for each mother is capable not only of producing male
offspring like the father, and female like herself, but also other
females like her fellow wife, and altogether differing from herself!
The other species to which I have to direct attention is the Kallima
paralekta, a butterfly of the same family group as our Purple Emperor,
and of about the same size or larger. Its upper surface is of a rich
purple, variously tinged with ash colour, and across the forewings
there is a broad bar of deep orange, so that when on the wing it is very
conspicuous. This species was not uncommon in dry woods and thickets,
and I often endeavoured to capture it without success, for after flying
a short distance it would enter a bush among dry or dead leaves, and
however carefully I crept up to the spot I could never discover it until
it would suddenly start out again and then disappear in a similar place.
If at length I was fortunate enough to see the exact spot where the
butterfly settled, and though I lost sight of it for some time, I would
discover that it was close before my eyes, but that in its position of
repose it so closely resembled a dead leaf attached to a twig as almost
certainly to deceive the eye even when gazing full upon it. I captured
several specimens on the wing, and was able fully to understand the way
in which this wonderful resemblance is produced.
The end of the upper wings terminates in a fine point, just as the
leaves of many tropical shrubs and trees are pointed, while the lower
wings are somewhat more obtuse, and are lengthened out into a short
thick tail. Between these two points there runs a dark curved line
exactly representing the midrib of a leaf, and from this radiate on each
side a few oblique marks which well imitate the lateral veins. These
marks are more clearly seen on the outer portion of the base of the
wings, and on the innerside towards the middle and apex, and they are
produced by striae and markings which are very common in allied species,
but which are here modified and strengthened so as to imitate more
exactly the venation of a leaf. The tint of the undersurface varies
much, but it is always some ashy brown or reddish colour, which matches
with those of dead leaves. The habit of the species is always to rest on
a twig and among dead or dry leaves, and in this position with the
wings closely pressed together, their outline is exactly that of a
moderately-sized leaf, slightly curved or shrivelled. The tail of the
hind wings forms a perfect stalk, and touches the stick while the insect
is supported by the middle pair of legs, which are not noticed among the
twigs and fibres that surround it. The head and antennae are drawn back
between the wings so as to be quite concealed, and there is a little
notch hollowed out at the very base of the wings, which allows the
head to be retracted sufficiently. All these varied details combine to
produce a disguise that is so complete and marvellous as to astonish
everyone who observes it; and the habits of the insects are such as to
utilize all these peculiarities, and render them available in such a
manner as to remove all doubt of the purpose of this singular case of
mimicry, which is undoubtedly a protection to the insect.
Its strong and swift flight is sufficient to save it from its enemies
when on the wing, but if it were equally conspicuous when at rest
it could not long escape extinction, owing to the attacks of the
insectivorous birds and reptiles that abound in the tropical forests. A
very closely allied species, Kallima inachis, inhabits India, where
it is very common, and specimens are sent in every collection from the
Himalayas. On examining a number of these, it will be seen that no two
are alike, but all the variations correspond to those of dead leaves.
Every tint of yellow, ash, brown, and red is found here, and in many
specimens there occur patches and spots formed of small black dots, so
closely resembling the way in which minute fungi grow on leaves that it
is almost impossible at first not to believe that fungi have grown on
the butterflies themselves!
If such an extraordinary adaptation as this stood alone, it would
be very difficult to offer any explanation of it; but although it is
perhaps the most perfect case of protective imitation known, there
are hundreds of similar resemblances in nature, and from these it is
possible to deduce a general theory of the manner in which they have
been slowly brought about. The principle of variation and that of
"natural selection," or survival of the fittest, as elaborated by Mr.
Darwin in his celebrated "Origin of Species," offers the foundation
for such a theory; and I have myself endeavoured to apply it to all the
chief cases of imitation in an article published in the "Westminster
Review" for 1867, entitled, "Mimicry, and other Protective Resemblances
Among Animals," to which any reader is referred who wishes to know more
about this subject.
In Sumatra, monkeys are very abundant, and at Lobo Kaman they used to
frequent the trees which overhang the guard-house, and give me a fine
opportunity of observing their gambols. Two species of Semnopithecus
were most plentiful--monkeys of a slender form, with very long
tails. Not being much shot at they are rather bold, and remain quite
unconcerned when natives alone are present; but when I came out to look
at them, they would stare for a minute or two and then make off. They
take tremendous leaps from the branches of one tree to those of another
a little lower, and it is very amusing when one strong leader takes a
bold jump, to see the others following with more or less trepidation;
and it often happens that one or two of the last seem quite unable to
make up their minds to leap until the rest are disappearing, when, as
if in desperation at being left alone, they throw themselves frantically
into the air, and often go crashing through the slender branches and
fall to the ground.
A very curious ape, the Siamang, was also rather abundant, but it is
much less bold than the monkeys, keeping to the virgin forests and
avoiding villages. This species is allied to the little long-armed apes
of the genus Hylobates, but is considerably larger, and differs from
them by having the two first fingers of the feet united together, nearly
to the end as does its Latin name, Siamanga syndactyla. It moves much
more slowly than the active Hylobates, keeping lower down in trees, and
not indulging in such tremendous leaps; but it is still very active,
and by means of its immense long arms, five feet six inches across in an
adult about three feet high, can swing itself along among the trees at
a great rate. I purchased a small one, which had been caught by the
natives and tied up so tightly as to hurt it. It was rather savage at
first, and tried to bite; but when we had released it and given it two
poles under the verandah to hang upon, securing it by a short cord,
running along the pole with a ring so that it could move easily, it
became more contented, and would swing itself about with great rapidity.
It ate almost any kind of fruit and rice, and I was in hopes to have
brought it to England, but it died just before I started. It took
a dislike to me at first, which I tried to get over by feeding it
constantly myself. One day, however, it bit me so sharply while giving
it food, that I lost patience and gave it rather a severe beating, which
I regretted afterwards, as from that time it disliked me more than ever.
It would allow my Malay boys to play with it, and for hours together
would swing by its arms from pole to pole and on to the rafters of the
verandah, with so much ease and rapidity, that it was a constant source
of amusement to us. When I returned to Singapore it attracted great
attention, as no one had seen a Siamang alive before, although it is not
uncommon in some parts of the Malay peninsula.
As the Orangutan is known to inhabit Sumatra, and was in fact first
discovered there, I made many inquiries about it; but none of the
natives had ever heard of such an animal, nor could I find any of the
Dutch officials who knew anything about it. We may conclude, therefore,
that it does not inhabit the great forest plains in the east of Sumatra
where one would naturally expect to find it, but is probably confined
to a limited region in the northwest part of the island entirely in
the hands of native rulers. The other great Mammalia of Sumatra, the
elephant and the rhinoceros, are more widely distributed; but the former
is much more scarce than it was a few years ago, and seems to retire
rapidly before the spread of cultivation. Lobo Kaman tusks and bones
are occasionally found about in the forest, but the living animal is now
never seen. The rhinoceros (Rhinoceros sumatranus) still abounds, and I
continually saw its tracks and its dung, and once disturbed one feeding,
which went crashing away through the jungle, only permitting me a
momentary glimpse of it through the dense underwood. I obtained a
tolerably perfect cranium, and a number of teeth, which were picked up
by the natives.
Another curious animal, which I had met with in Singapore and in Borneo,
but which was more abundant here, is the Galeopithecus, or flying lemur.
This creature has a broad membrane extending all around its body to the
extremities of the toes, and to the point of the rather long tail. This
enables it to pass obliquely through the air from one tree to another.
It is sluggish in its motions, at least by day, going up a tree by short
runs of a few feet, and then stopping a moment as if the action was
difficult. It rests during the day clinging to the trunks of trees,
where its olive or brown fur, mottled with irregular whitish spots and
blotches, resembles closely the colour of mottled bark, and no doubt
helps to protect it. Once, in a bright twilight, I saw one of these
animals run up a trunk in a rather open place, and then glide obliquely
through the air to another tree, on which it alighted near its base, and
immediately began to ascend. I paced the distance from the one tree to
the other, and found it to be seventy yards; and the amount of descent
I estimated at not more than thirty-five or forty feet, or less than
one in five. This I think proves that the animal must have some power of
guiding itself through the air, otherwise in so long a distance it would
have little chance of alighting exactly upon the trunk. Like the
Cuscus of the Moluccas, the Galeopithecus feeds chiefly on leaves, and
possesses a very voluminous stomach and long convoluted intestines. The
brain is very small, and the animal possesses such remarkable tenacity
of life, that it is exceedingly difficult to kill it by any ordinary
means. The tail is prehensile; and is probably made use of as an
additional support while feeding. It is said to have only a single young
one at a time, and my own observation confirms this statement, for I
once shot a female with a very small blind and naked little creature
clinging closely to its breast, which was quite bare and much wrinkled,
reminding me of the young of Marsupials, to which it seemed to form a
transition. On the back, and extending over the limbs and membrane, the
fur of these animals is short, but exquisitely soft, resembling in its
texture that of the Chinchilla.
I returned to Palembang by water, and while staying a day at a village
while a boat was being made watertight, I had the good fortune to obtain
a male, female, and young bird of one of the large hornbills. I had
sent my hunters to shoot, and while I was at breakfast they returned,
bringing me a fine large male of the Buceros bicornis, which one of them
assured me he had shot while feeding the female, which was shut up in a
hole in a tree. I had often read of this curious habit, and immediately
returned to the place, accompanied by several of the natives. After
crossing a stream and a bog, we found a large tree leaning over some
water, and on its lower side, at a height of about twenty feet, appeared
a small hole, and what looked like a quantity of mud, which I was
assured had been used in stopping up the large hole. After a while we
heard the harsh cry of a bird inside, and could see the white extremity
of its beak put out. I offered a rupee to anyone who would go up and get
the bird out, with the egg or young one; but they all declared it was
too difficult, and they were afraid to try. I therefore very reluctantly
came away. About an hour afterwards, much to my surprise, a tremendous
loud, hoarse screaming was heard, and the bird was brought me, together
with a young one which had been found in the hole. This was a most
curious object, as large as a pigeon, but without a particle of plumage
on any part of it. It was exceedingly plump and soft, and with a
semi-transparent skin, so that it looked more like a bag of jelly, with
head and feet stuck on, than like a real bird.
The extraordinary habit of the male, in plastering up the female with
her egg, and feeding her during the whole time of incubation, and until
the young one is fledged, is common to several of the large hornbills,
and is one of those strange facts in natural history which are "stranger
than fiction."