(OCTOBER 1859 To JUNE 1860.)
I LEFT Amboyna for my first visit to Ceram at three o'clock in the
morning of October 29th, after having been delayed several days by the
boat's crew, who could not be got together. Captain Van der Beck, who
gave me a passage in his boat, had been running after them all day, and
at midnight we had to search for two of my men who had disappeared at
the last moment. One we found at supper in his own house, and rather
tipsy with his parting libations of arrack, but the other was gone
across the bay, and we were obliged to leave without him. We stayed some
hours at two villages near the east end of Amboyna, at one of which we
had to discharge some wood for the missionaries' house, and on the
third afternoon reached Captain Van der Beck's plantation, situated at
Hatosua, in that part of Ceram opposite to the island of Amboyna. This
was a clearing in flat and rather swampy forest, about twenty acres
in extent, and mostly planted with cacao and tobacco. Besides a small
cottage occupied by the workmen, there was a large shed for tobacco
drying, a corner of which was offered me; and thinking from the look of
the place that I should find good collecting ground here, I fitted up
temporary tables, benches, and beds, and made all preparations for
some weeks' stay. A few days, however, served to show that I should be
disappointed. Beetles were tolerably abundant, and I obtained plenty of
fine long-horned Anthribidae and pretty Longicorns, but they were mostly
the same species as I had found during my first short visit to Amboyna.
There were very few paths in the forest; which seemed poor in birds and
butterflies, and day after day my men brought me nothing worth notice.
I was therefore soon obliged to think about changing my locality, as I
could evidently obtain no proper notion of the productions of the almost
entirely unexplored island of Ceram by staying in this place.
I rather regretted leaving, because my host was one of the most
remarkable men and most entertaining companions I had ever met with.
He was a Fleeting by birth, and, like so many of his countrymen, had a
wonderful talent for languages. When quite a youth he had accompanied a
Government official who was sent to report on the trade and commerce
of the Mediterranean, and had acquired the colloquial language of every
place they stayed a few weeks at. He had afterwards made voyages to
St. Petersburg, and to other parts of Europe, including a few weeks in
London, and had then come out to the past, where he had been for some
years trading and speculating in the various islands. He now spoke
Dutch, French, Malay, and Javanese, all equally well; English with
a very slight accent, but with perfect fluency, axed a most complete
knowledge of idiom, in which I often tried to puzzle him in vain. German
and Italian were also quite familiar to him, and his acquaintance
with European languages included Modern Greek, Turkish, Russian, and
colloquial Hebrew and Latin. As a test of his power, I may mention that
he had made a voyage to the out-of-the-way island of Salibaboo, and had
stayed there trading a few weeks. As I was collecting vocabularies,
he told me he thought he could remember some words, and dictated
considerable number. Some time after I met with a short list of words
taken down in those islands, and in every case they agreed with those
he had given me. He used to sing a Hebrew drinking-song, which he had
learned from some Jews with whom he had once travelled, and astonished
by joining in their conversation, and had a never-ending fund of tale
and anecdote about the people he had met and the places he had visited.
In most of the villages of this part of Ceram are schools and native
schoolmasters, and the inhabitants have been long converted to
Christianity. In the larger villages there are European missionaries;
but there is little or no external difference between the Christian and
Alfuro villages, nor, as far as I have seen, in their inhabitants. The
people seem more decidedly Papuan than those of Gilolo. They are darker
in colour, and a number of them have the frizzly Papuan hair; their
features also are harsh and prominent, and the women in particular are
far less engaging than those of the Malay race. Captain Van der Beck was
never tired of abusing the inhabitants of these Christian villages as
thieves, liars, and drunkards, besides being incorrigibly lazy. In the
city of Amboyna my friends Doctors Mohnike and Doleschall, as well
as most of the European residents and traders, made exactly the same
complaint, and would rather have Mahometans for servants, even if
convicts, than any of the native Christians. One great cause of this
is the fact, that with the Mahometans temperance is a part of their
religion, and has become so much a habit that practically the rule is
never transgressed. One fertile source of want, and one great incentive
to idleness and crime, is thus present with the one class, but absent
in the other; but besides this the Christians look upon themselves as
nearly the equals of the Europeans, who profess the same religion, and
as far superior to the followers of Islam, and are therefore prone to
despise work, and to endeavour to live by trade, or by cultivating their
own land. It need hardly be said that with people in this low state of
civilization religion is almost wholly ceremonial, and that neither
are the doctrines of Christianity comprehended, nor its moral precepts
obeyed. At the same time, as far as my own experience goes, I have found
the better class of "Orang Sirani" as civil, obliging, and industrious
as the Malays, and only inferior to them from their tendency to get
intoxicated.
Having written to the Assistant Resident of Saparua (who has
jurisdiction over the opposite part of the coast of Ceram) for a boat
to pursue my journey, I received one rather larger than necessary with a
crew of twenty men. I therefore bade adieu to my kind friend Captain Van
der Beck, and left on the evening after its arrival for the village of
Elpiputi, which we reached in two days. I had intended to stay here, but
not liking the appearance of the place, which seemed to have no virgin
forest near it, I determined to proceed about twelve miles further
up the bay of Amahay, to a village recently formed, and inhabited by
indigenes from the interior, and where some extensive cacao plantations
were being made by some gentlemen of Amboyna. I reached the place
(called Awaiya) the same afternoon, and with the assistance of Mr.
Peters (the manager of the plantations) and the native chief, obtained
a small house, got all my things on shore, and paid and discharged
my twenty boatmen, two of whom had almost driven me to distraction by
beating tom-toms the whole voyage.
I found the people here very nearly in a state of nature, and going
almost naked. The men wear their frizzly hair gathered into a flat
circular knot over the left temple, which has a very knowing look, and
in their ears cylinders of wood as thick as one's finger, and coloured
red at the ends. Armlets and anklets of woven grass or of silver, with
necklaces of beads or of small fruits, complete their attire. The women
wear similar ornaments, but have their hair loose. All are tall, with a
dark brown skin, and well marked Papuan physiognomy. There is an Amboyna
schoolmaster in the village, and a good number of children attend school
every morning. Such of the inhabitants as have become Christians may be
known by their wearing their hair loose, and adopting to some extent the
native Christian dress-trousers and a loose shirt. Very few speak Malay,
all these coast villages having been recently formed by inducing natives
to leave the inaccessible interior. In all the central part of Ceram
there new remains only one populous village in the mountains. Towards
the east and the extreme west are a few others, with which exceptions
all the inhabitants of Ceram are collected on the coast. In the northern
and eastern districts they are mostly Mahometans, while on the southwest
coast, nearest Amboyna, they are nominal Christians. In all this part of
the Archipelago the Dutch make very praiseworthy efforts to improve
the condition of the aborigines by establishing schoolmasters in every
village (who are mostly natives of Amboyna or Saparua, who have; been
instructed by the resident missionaries), and by employing native
vaccinators to prevent the ravages of smallpox. They also encourage the
settlement of Europeans, and the formation of new plantations of cacao
and coffee, one of the best means of raising the condition of the
natives, who thus obtain work at fair wages, and have the opportunity of
acquiring something of European tastes and habits.
My collections here did not progress much better than at my former
station, except that butterflies were a little more plentiful, and some
very fine species were to be found in the morning on the sea-beach,
sitting so quietly on the wet sand that they could be caught with the
fingers. In this way I had many fine specimens of Papilios brought me
by the children. Beetles, however, were scarce, and birds still more
so, and I began to think that the handsome species which I had so often
heard were found in Ceram must be entirely confined to the eastern
extremity of the island.
A few miles further worth, at the head of the Bay of Amahay, is situated
the village of Makariki, from whence there is a native path quite
across the island to the north coast. My friend Mr. Rosenberg, whose
acquaintance I had made at New Guinea, and who was now the Government
superintendent of all this part of Ceram, returned from Wahai, on the
north coast, after I had been three weeks at Awaiya, and showed me
some fine butterflies he had obtained on the mountain streams in the
interior. He indicated a spot about the centre of the island where he
thought I might advantageously stay a few days. I accordingly visited
Makariki with him the next day, and he instructed the chief of the
village to furnish me with men to carry my baggage, and accompany me
on my excursion. As the people of the village wanted to be at home on
Christmas-day, it was necessary to start as soon as possible; so we
agreed that the men should be ready in two days, and I returned to make
my arrangements.
I put up the smallest quantity of baggage possible for a six days'
trip, and on the morning of December 18th we left Makariki, with six men
carrying my baggage and their own provisions, and a lad from Awaiya,
who was accustomed to catch butterflies for me. My two Amboyna hunters
I left behind to shoot and skin what birds they could while I was away.
Quitting the village, we first walked briskly for an hour through a
dense tangled undergrowth, dripping wet from a storm of the previous
night, and full of mud holes. After crossing several small streams we
reached one of the largest rivers in Ceram, called Ruatan, which it was
necessary to cross. It was both deep and rapid. The baggage was first
taken over, parcel by parcel, on the men's heads, the water reaching
nearly up to their armpits, and then two men returned to assist me. The
water was above my waist, and so strong that I should certainly have
been carried off my feet had I attempted to cross alone; and it was a
matter of astonishment to me how the men could give me any assistance,
since I found the greatest difficulty in getting my foot down again when
I had once moved it off the bottom. The greater strength and grasping
power of their feet, from going always barefoot, no doubt gave them a
surer footing in the rapid water.
After well wringing out our wet clothes and putting them on, we again
proceeded along a similar narrow forest track as before, choked with
rotten leaves and dead trees, and in the more open parts overgrown with
tangled vegetation. Another hour brought us to a smaller stream flowing
in a wide gravelly bed, up which our road lay. Here w e stayed half an
hour to breakfast, and then went on, continually crossing the stream, or
walking on its stony and gravelly banks, till about noon, when it became
rocky and enclosed by low hills. A little further we entered a regular
mountain-gorge, and had to clamber over rocks, and every moment cross
and recross the water, or take short cuts through the forest. This
was fatiguing work; and about three in the afternoon, the sky being
overcast, and thunder in the mountains indicating an approaching storm,
we had to loon out for a camping place, and soon after reached one
of Mr. Rosenberg's old ones. The skeleton of his little sleeping-hut
remained, and my men cut leaves and made a hasty roof just as the
rain commenced. The baggage was covered over with leaves, and the men
sheltered themselves as they could till the storm was over, by which
time a flood came down the river, which effectually stopped our further
march, even had we wished to proceed. We then lighted fires; I made some
coffee, and my men roasted their fish and plantains, and as soon as it
was dark, we made ourselves comfortable for the night.
Starting at six the next morning, we had three hours of the same kind
of walking, during which we crossed the river at least thirty or forty
times, the water being generally knee-deep. This brought us to a place
where the road left the stream, and here we stopped to breakfast. We
then had a long walk over the mountain, by a tolerable path, which
reached an elevation of about fifteen hundred feet above the sea. Here I
noticed one of the smallest and most elegant tree ferns I had ever seen,
the stem being scarcely thicker than my thumb, yet reaching a height
of fifteen or twenty feet. I also caught a new butterfly of the genus
Pieris, and a magnificent female specimen of Papilio gambrisius, of
which I had hitherto only found the males, which are smaller and very
different in colour. Descending the other side of the ridge, by a very
steep path, we reached another river at a spot which is about the centre
of the island, and which was to be our resting place for two or three
days. In a couple of hour my men had built a little sleeping-shed
for me, about eight feet by four, with a bench of split poles, they
themselves occupying two or three smaller ones, which had been put up by
former passengers.
The river here was about twenty yards wide, running over a pebbly and
sometimes a rocky bed, and bordered by steep hills with occasionally
flat swampy spots between their base and the stream. The whole country
was one dense, Unbroken, and very damp and gloomy virgin forest. Just at
our resting-place there was a little bush-covered island in the middle
of the channel, so that the opening in the forest made by the river was
wider than usual, and allowed a few gleams of sunshine to penetrate.
Here there were several handsome butterflies flying about, the finest of
which, however, escaped me, and I never saw it again during my stay. In
the two days and a half which we remained here, I wandered almost all
day up and down the stream, searching after butterflies, of which I got,
in all, fifty or sixty specimens, with several species quite new to
me. There were many others which I saw only once, and did not capture,
causing me to regret that there was no village in these interior valleys
where I could stay a month. In the early part of each morning I went out
with my gun in search of birds, and two of my men were out almost all
day after deer; but we were all equally unsuccessful, getting absolutely
nothing the whole time we were in the forest. The only good bird seen
was the fine Amboyna lory, but these were always too high to shoot;
besides this, the great Moluccan hornbill, which I did not want, was
almost the only bird met with. I saw not a single ground-thrush, or
kingfisher, or pigeon; and, in fact, have never been in a forest so
utterly desert of animal life as this appeared to be. Even in all other
groups of insects, except butterflies, there was the same poverty. I
bad hoped to find some rare tiger beetles, as I had done in similar
situations in Celebes; but, though I searched closely in forest,
river-bed, and mountain-brook, I could find nothing but the two common
Amboyna species. Other beetles there were absolutely none.
The constant walking in water, and over rocks and pebbles, quite
destroyed the two pair of shoes I brought with me, so that, on my
return, they actually fell to pieces, and the last day I had to walk
in my stockings very painfully, and reached home quite lame. On our way
back from Makariki, as on our way there, we had storm and rain at sea,
and we arrived at Awaiya late in the evening, with all our baggage
drenched, and ourselves thoroughly uncomfortable. All the time I had
been in Ceram I had suffered much from the irritating bites of an
invisible acarus, which is worse than mosquitoes, ants, and every other
pest, because it is impossible to guard against them. This last journey
in the forest left me covered from head to foot with inflamed lumps,
which, after my return to Amboyna, produced a serious disease, confining
me to the house for nearly two months, a not very pleasant memento of my
first visit to Ceram, which terminated with the year 1859.
It was not till the 24th of February, 1860, that I started again,
intending to pass from village to village along the coast, staying where
I found a suitable locality. I had a letter from the Governor of the
Moluccas, requesting all the chiefs to supply me with boats and men to
carry me on my journey. The first boat took me in two days to Amahay,
on the opposite side of the bay to Awaiya. The chief here, wonderful to
relate, did not make any excuses for delay, but immediately ordered out
the boat which was to carry me on, put my baggage on hoard, set up mast
and sails after dark, and had the men ready that nigh; so that we were
actually on our way at five the next morning,--a display of energy
and activity I scarcely ever saw before in a native chief on such an
occasion. We touched at Cepa, and stayed for the night at Tamilan, the
first two Mahometan villages on the south coast of Ceram. The next day,
about noon, we reached Hoya, which was as Far as my present boat and
crew were going to take me. The anchorage is about a mile east of the
village, which is faced by coral reefs, and we had to wait for the
evening tide to move up and unload the boat into the strange rotten
wooden pavilion kept for visitors.
There was no boat here large enough to take my baggage; and although
two would have done very well, the Rajah insisted upon sending four. The
reason of this I found was, that there were four small villages under
his rule, and by sending a boat from each he would avoid the difficult
task of choosing two and letting off the others. I was told that at the
next village of Teluti there were plenty of Alfuros, and that I could
get abundance of Tories and other birds. The Rajah declared that
black and yellow Tories and black cockatoos were found there; but I am
inclined to think he knew very well he was telling me lies, and that
it was only a scheme to satisfy me with his plan of taking me to that
village, instead of a day's journey further on, as I desired. Here, as
at most of the villages, I was asked for spirits, the people being mere
nominal Mahometans, who confine their religion almost entirely to a
disgust at pork, and a few other forbidden articles of food. The next
morning, after much trouble, we got our cargoes loaded, and had a
delightful row across the deep bay of Teluti, with a view of the grand
central mountain-range of Ceram. Our four boats were rowed by sixty
men, with flags flying and tom-toms beating, as well as very vigorous
shouting and singing to keep up their spirits. The sea way smooth, the
morning bright, and the whole scene very exhilarating. On landing, the
Orang-kaya and several of the chief men, in gorgeous silk jackets,
were waiting to receive us, and conducted me to a house prepared for my
reception, where I determined to stay a few days, and see if the country
round produced anything new.
My first inquiries were about the lories, but I could get very little
satisfactory information. The only kinds known were the ring-necked lory
and the common red and green lorikeet, both common at Amboyna. Black
Tories and cockatoos were quite unknown. The Alfuros resided in the
mountains five or six days' journey away, and there were only one or
two live birds to be found in the village, and these were worthless. My
hunters could get nothing but a few common birds; and notwithstanding
fine mountains, luxuriant forests, and a locality a hundred miles
eastward, I could find no new insects, and extremely few even of the
common species of Amboyna and West Ceram. It was evidently no use
stopping at such a place, and I was determined to move on as soon as
possible.
The village of Teluti is populous, but straggling and very dirty. Sago
trees here cover the mountain side, instead of growing as usual in low
swamps; but a closer examination shows that they grow in swampy patches,
which have formed among the loose rocks that cover the ground, and which
are kept constantly full of moisture by the rains, and by the abundance
of rills which trickle down among them. This sago forms almost the whole
subsistence of the inhabitants, who appear to cultivate nothing but
a few small patches of maize and sweet potatoes. Hence, as before
explained, the scarcity of insects. The Orang-kaya has fine clothes,
handsome lamps, and other expensive European goods, yet lives every day
on sago and fish as miserably as the rest.
After three days in this barren place I left on the morning of March
6th, in two boats of the same size as those which had brought me to
Teluti. With some difficulty I had obtained permission to take these
boats on to Tobo, where I intended to stay a while, and therefore got on
pretty quickly, changing men at the village of Laiemu, and arriving in a
heavy rain at Ahtiago. As there was a good deal of surf here, and likely
to be more if the wind blew hard during the night, our boats were
pulled up on the beach; and after supping at the Orang-kaya's house, and
writing down a vocabulary of the language of the Alfuros, who live in
the mountains inland, I returned to sleep in the boat. Next morning we
proceeded, changing men at Warenama, and again at Hatometen, at both of
which places there was much surf and no harbour, so that the men had to
go on shore and come on board by swimming. Arriving in the evening of
March 7th at Batuassa, the first village belonging to the Rajah of Tobo,
and under the government of Banda, the surf was very heavy, owing to a
strong westward swell. We therefore rounded the rocky point on which the
village was situated, but found it very little better on the other side.
We were obliged, however, to go on shore here; and waiting till the
people on the beach had made preparations, by placing a row of logs from
the water's edge on which to pull up our boats, we rowed as quickly as
we could straight on to them, after watching till the heaviest surfs
had passed. The moment we touched ground our men all jumped out, and,
assisted by those on shore, attempted to haul up the boat high and dry,
but not having sufficient hands, the surf repeatedly broke into the
stern. The steepness of the beach, however, prevented any damage being
done, and the other boat having both crews to haul at it, was got up
without difficulty.
The next morning, the water being low, the breakers were at some
distance from shore, and we had to watch for a smooth moment after
bringing the boats to the water's edge, and so got safely out to sea. At
the two next villages, Tobo and Ossong, we also took in fresh men, who
came swimming through the surf; and at the latter place the Rajah came
on board and accompanied me to Kissalaut, where he has a house which
he lent me during my stay. Here again was a heavy surf, and it was with
great difficulty we got the boats safely hauled up. At Amboyna I had
been promised at this season a calm sea and the wind off shore, but in
this case, as in every other, I had been unable to obtain any reliable
information as to the winds and seasons of places distant two or three
days' journey. It appears, however, that owing to the general direction
of the island of Ceram (E.S.E. and W.N.W.), there is a heavy surf and
scarcely any shelter on the south coast during the west monsoon, when
alone a journey to the eastward can be safely made; while during the
east monsoon, when I proposed to return along the north coast to Wahai,
I should probably find that equally exposed and dangerous. But although
the general direction of the west monsoon in the Banda sea causes a
heavy swell, with bad surf on the coast, yet we had little advantage of
the wind; for, owing I suppose to the numerous bays and headlands, we
had contrary south-east or even due east winds all the way, and had to
make almost the whole distance from Amboyna by force of rowing. We had
therefore all the disadvantages, and none of the advantages, of this
west monsoon, which I was told would insure me a quick and pleasant
journey.
I was delayed at Kissa-laut just four weeks, although after the first
three days I saw that it would be quite useless for me to stay, and
begged the Rajah to give me a prau and men to carry me on to Goram. But
instead of getting one close at hand, he insisted on sending several
miles off; and when after many delays it at length arrived, it was
altogether unsuitable and too small to carry my baggage. Another was
then ordered to be brought immediately, and was promised in three days,
but doable that time elapsed and none appeared, and we were obliged at
length to get one at the adjoining village, where it might have been
so much more easily obtained at first. Then came caulking and covering
over, and quarrels between the owner and the Rajah's men, which
occupied more than another ten days, during all which time I was getting
absolutely nothing, finding this part of Ceram a perfect desert in
zoology, although a most beautiful country, and with a very luxuriant
vegetation. It was a complete puzzle, which to this day I have not been
able to understand; the only thing I obtained worth notice during my
month's stay here being a few good land shells.
At length, on April 4th, we succeeded in getting away in our little
boat of about four tons burthen, in which my numerous boxes were with
difficulty packed so as to leave sleeping and cooling room. The craft
could not boast an ounce of iron or a foot of rope in any part of its
construction, nor a morsel of pitch or paint in its decoration. The
planks were fastened together in the usual ingenious way with pegs
and rattans. The mast was a bamboo triangle, requiring no shrouds,
and carrying a long mat sail; two rudders were hung on the quarters by
rattans, the anchor was of wood, and a long and thick rattan; served as
a cable. Our crew consisted of four men, whose pole accommodation was
about three feet by four in the bows and stern, with the sloping thatch
roof to stretch themselves upon for a change. We had nearly a hundred
miles to go, fully exposed to the swell of the Banda sea, which is
sometimes very considerable; but we luckily had it calm and smooth, so
that we made the voyage in comparative comfort.
On the second day we passed the eastern extremity of Ceram, formed of
a group of hummocky limestone hills; and, sailing by the islands of
Kwammer and Keffing, both thickly inhabited, came in sight of the little
town of Kilwaru, which appears to rise out of the sea like a rustic
Venice. This place has really a most extraordinary appearance, as not a
particle of land or vegetation can be seen, but a long way out at sea a
large village seems to float upon the water. There is of course a small
island of several acres in extent; but the houses are built so closely
all round it upon piles in the water, that it is completely hidden. It
is a place of great traffic, being the emporium for much of the produce
of these Eastern seas, and is the residence of many Bugis and Ceramese
traders, and appears to have been chosen on account of its being close
to the only deep channel between the extensive shoals of Ceram-laut and
those bordering the east end of Ceram. We now had contrary east winds,
and were obliged to pole over the shallow coral reefs of Ceram-laut
for nearly thirty miles. The only danger of our voyage was just at its
termination, for as we were rowing towards Manowolko, the largest of
the Goram group, we were carried out so rapidly by a strong westerly
current, that I was almost certain at one time we should pass clear
of the island; in which case our situation would have been both
disagreeable and dangerous, as, with the east wind which had just set
in, we might have been unable to return for many days, and we had not
a day's water on board. At the critical moment I served out some strong
spirits to my men, which put fresh vigour into their arms, and carried
us out of the influence of the current before it was too late.
MANOWOLKO, GORAM GROUP.
On arriving at Manowolko, we found the Rajah was at the opposite island
of Goram; but he was immediately sent for, and in the meantime a large
shed was given for our accommodation. At night the Rajah came, and the
next day I had a visit from him, and found, as I expected, that I had
already made his acquaintance three years before at Aru. He was very
friendly, and we had a long talk; but when I begged for a boat and
men to take me on to Ke, he made a host of difficulties. There were no
praus, as all had gone to Ke or Aim; and even if one were found, there
were no men, as it was the season when all were away trading. But he
promised to see about it, and I was obliged to wait. For the next two or
three days there was more talking and more difficulties were raised, and
I had time to make an examination of the island and the people.
Manowolko is about fifteen miles long, and is a mere; upraised
coral-reef. Two or three hundred yards inland rise cliffs of coral rock,
in many parts perpendicular, and one or two hundred feet high; and this,
I was informed, is characteristic of the whole island, in which there is
no other kind of rock, and no stream of water. A few cracks and chasms
furnish paths to the top of these cliffs, where there is an open
undulating country, in which the chief vegetable grounds of the
inhabitants are situated.
The people here--at least the chief men--were of a much purer Malay race
than the Mahometans of the mainland of Ceram, which is perhaps due to
there having been no indigenes on these small islands when the
first settlers arrived. In Ceram, the Alfuros of Papuan race are the
predominant type, the Malay physiognomy being seldom well marked;
whereas here the reverse is the case, and a slight infusion of Papuan
on a mixture of Malay and Bugis has produced a very good-looking set of
people. The lower class of the population consist almost entirely of
the indigenes of the adjacent island. They are a fine race, with
strongly-marked Papuan features, frizzly hair, and brown complexions.
The Goram language is spoken also at the east end of Ceram, and in
the adjacent islands. It has a general resemblance to the languages of
Ceram, but possesses a peculiar element which I have not met with in
other languages of the Archipelago.
After great delay, considering the importance of every day at this
time of year, a miserable boat and five men were found, and with
some difficulty I stowed away in it such baggage as it was absolutely
necessary for me to take, leaving scarcely sitting or sleeping room.
The sailing qualities of the boat were highly vaunted, and I was assured
that at this season a small one was much more likely to succeed in
making the journey. We first coasted along the island, reaching its
eastern extremity the following morning (April 11th), and found a
strong W. S.W. wind blowing, which just allowed us to lay across to the
Matabello Islands, a distance little short of twenty miles. I did not
much like the look of the heavy sky and rather rough sea, and my men
were very unwilling to make the attempt; but as we could scarcely hope
for a better chance, I insisted upon trying. The pitching and jerking of
our little boat, soon reduced me to a state of miserable helplessness,
and I lay down, resigned to whatever might happen. After three or four
hours, I was told we were nearly over; but when I got up, two hours
later, just as the sun was setting, I found we were still a good
distance from the point, owing to a strong current which had been for
some time against us. Night closed in, and the wind drew more ahead,
so we had to take in sail. Then came a calm, and we rowed and sailed
as occasion offered; and it was four in the morning when we reached the
village of Kisslwoi, not having made more than three miles in the last
twelve hours.
MATABELLO ISLANDS.
At daylight I found we were; in a beautiful little harbour, formed by a
coral reef about two hundred yards from shore, and perfectly secure in
every wind. Having eaten nothing since the previous morning, we cooked
our breakfast comfortably on shore, and left about noon, coasting along
the two islands of this group, which lie in the same line, and are
separated by a narrow channel. Both seem entirely formed of raised
coral rock; but them has been a subsequent subsidence, as shaven by the
barrier reef which extends all along them at varying distances from the
shore, This reef is sometimes only marked by a. line of breakers when
there is a little swell on the sea; in other places there is a ridge
of dead coral above the water, which is here and there high enough to
support a few low bushes. This was the first example I had met with of a
true barrier reef due to subsidence, as has been so clearly shown by Mr.
Darwin. In a sheltered archipelago they will seldom be distinguishable,
from the absence of those huge rolling waves and breakers which in
the wide ocean throw up a barrier of broken coral far above the usual
high-water mark, while here they rarely rise to the surface.
On reaching the end of the southern island, called Uta, we were kept
waiting two days for a wind that would enable us to pass over to the
next island, Teor, and I began to despair of ever reaching Ke, and
determined on returning. We left with a south wind, which suddenly
changed to north-east, and induced me to turn again southward in the
hopes that this was the commencement of a few days' favourable weather.
We sailed on very well in the direction of Teor for about an hour,
after which the wind shifted to WSW., and we were driven much out of our
course, and at nightfall found ourselves in the open sea, and full
ten miles to leeward of our destination. My men were now all very much
frightened, for if we went on we might be a. week at sea in our little
open boat, laden almost to the water's edge; or we might drift on to
the coast of New Guinea, in which case we should most likely all be
murdered. I could not deny these probabilities, and although I showed
them that we could not get back to our starting-point with the wind
as it was, they insisted upon returning. We accordingly put about, and
found that we could lay no nearer to Uta than to Teor; however, by great
good luck, about ten o'clock we hit upon a little coral island, and lay
under its lee till morning, when a favourable change of wind brought us
back to Uta, and by evening (April 18th) we reached our first anchorage
in Matabello, where I resolved to stay a few days, and then return to
Goram. It way with much regret that I gave up my trip to Ke and the
intervening islands, which I had looked forward to as likely to make up
for my disappointment in Ceram, since my short visit on my voyage to Aru
had produced me so many rare and beautiful insects.
The natives of Matabello are almost entirely occupied in making cocoanut
oil, which they sell to the Bugis and Goram traders, who carry it to
Banda and Amboyna. The rugged coral rock seems very favourable to the
growth of the cocoa-nut palm, which abounds over the whole island to the
very highest points, and produces fruit all the year round. Along with
it are great numbers of the areca or betel-nut palm, the nuts of which
are sliced, dried, and ground into a paste, which is much used by the
betel-chewing Malays and Papuans. All the little children here even
such as can just run alone, carried between their lips a mass of the
nasty-looking red paste, which is even more disgusting than to see them
at the same age smoking cigars, which is very common even before they
are weaned. Cocoa-nuts, sweet potatoes, an occasional sago cake, and the
refuse nut after the oil has been extracted by boiling, form the chief
sustenance of these people; and the effect of this poor and unwholesome
diet is seen in the frequency of eruptions and scurfy skin diseases, and
the numerous sores that disfigure the faces of the children.
The villages are situated on high and rugged coral peaks, only
accessible by steep narrow paths, with ladders and bridges over yawning
chasms. They are filthy with rotten husks and oil refuse, and the huts
are dark, greasy, and dirty in the extreme. The people are wretched
ugly dirty savages, clothed in unchanged rags, and living in the most
miserable manner, and as every drop of fresh water has to be brought
up from the beach, washing is never thought of; yet they are actually
wealthy, and have the means of purchasing all the necessaries and
luxuries of life. Fowls are abundant, and eggs were given me whenever
I visited the villages, but these are never eaten, being looked upon
as pets or as merchandise. Almost all of the women wear massive gold
earrings, and in every village there are dozens of small bronze cannon
lying about on the ground, although they have cost on the average
perhaps £10 a piece. The chief men of each village came to visit me,
clothed in robes of silk and flowered satin, though their houses and
their daily fare are no better than those of the ether inhabitants. What
a contrast between these people and such savages as the best tribes of
bill. Dyaks in Borneo, or the Indians of the Uaupes in South America,
living on the banks of clear streams, clean in their persons and their
houses, with abundance of wholesome food, and exhibiting its effect in
healthy shins and beauty of form and feature! There is in fact almost
as much difference: between the various races of savage as of civilized
peoples, and we may safely affirm that the better specimens of the
former are much superior to the lower examples of the latter class.
One of the few luxuries of Matabello is the palm wine; which is the
fermented sap from the flower stains of the cocoa-net. It is really a
very mice drink, more like cyder than beer, though quite as intoxicating
as the latter. Young cocoa-nuts are also very abundant, so that anywhere
in the island it is only necessary to go a few yards to find a delicious
beverage by climbing up a tree for it. It is the water of the young
fruit that is drunk, before the pulp has hardened; it is then more
abundant, clear, and refreshing, and the thin coating of gelatinous pulp
is thought a treat luxury. The water of full-brown cocoa-nuts is always
thrown away as undrinkable, although it is delicious in comparison with
that of the old dry nuts which alone we obtain in this country. The
cocoa-nut pulp I did not like at first; but fruits are so scarce, except
at particular seasons, that one soon learns to appreciate anything of a
fruity nature.
Many persons in Europe are under the impression that fruits of delicious
flavour abound in the tropical forests, and they will no doubt be
surprised to learn that the truly wild fruits of this brand and
luxuriant archipelago, the vegetation of which will vie with that of any
part of the world, are in almost every island inferior in abundance and
duality to those of Britain. Wild strawberries and raspberries are found
in some places, but they are such poor tasteless things as to be hardly
worth eating, and there is nothing to compare with our blackberries and
whortleberries. The kanary-nut may be considered equal to a hazel-nut,
but I have met with nothing else superior to our crabs, oar haws,
beech-nuts, wild plums, and acorns; fruits which would be highly
esteemed by the natives of these islands, and would form an important
part of their sustenance. All the fine tropical fruits are as much
cultivated productions as our apples, peaches, and plums, and their wild
prototypes, when found, are generally either tasteless or uneatable.
The people of Matabello, like those of most of the Mahometan villages of
East Ceram and Goram, amused me much by their strange ideas concerning
the Russian war. They believe that the Russians were not only most
thoroughly beaten by the Turks, but were absolutely conquered, and all
converted to Islamism! And they can hardly be convinced that such is
not the case, and that had it not been for the assistance of France and
England, the poor Sultan world have fared ill. Another of their motions
is, that the Turks are the largest and strongest people in the world--in
fact a race of giants; that they eat enormous quantities of meat, and
are a most ferocious and irresistible nation. Whence such strangely
incorrect opinions could have arisen it is difficult to understand,
unless they are derived from Arab priests, or hadjis returned from
Mecca, who may have heard of the ancient prowess of the Turkish armies
when they made all Europe tremble, and suppose that their character and
warlike capacity must be the same at the present time.
GORAM
A steady south-east wind having set in, we returned to Manowolko on
the 25th of April, and the day after crossed over to Ondor, the chief
village of Goram.
Around this island extends, with few interruptions, an encircling coral
reef about a quarter of a mile from the shore, visible as a stripe of
pale green water, but only at very lowest ebb-tides showing any rock
above the surface. There are several deep entrances through this reef,
and inside it there is hood anchorage in all weathers. The land rises
gradually to a moderate height, and numerous small streams descend on
all sides. The mere existence of these streams would prove that the
island was not entirely coralline, as in that case all the water would
sink through the porous rock as it does at Manowolko and Matabello; but
we have more positive proof in the pebbles and stones of their beds,
which exhibit a variety of stratified crystalline rocks. About a hundred
yards from the beach rises a wall of coral rock, ten or twenty feet
high, above which is an undulating surface of rugged coral, which slopes
downward towards the interior, and then after a slight ascent is bounded
by a second wall of coral. Similar walls occur higher up, and coral is
found on the highest part of the island.
This peculiar structure teaches us that before the coral was formed land
existed in this spot; that this land sunk gradually beneath the waters,
but with intervals of rest, during which encircling reef's were formed
around it at different elevations; that it then rose to above its
present elevation, and is now again sinking. We infer this, because
encircling reefs are a proof of subsidence; and if the island were again
elevated about a hundred feet, what is now the reef and the shallow sea
within it would form a wall of coral rock, and an undulating coralline
plain, exactly similar to those that still exist at various altitudes up
to the summit of the island. We learn also that these changes have taken
place at a comparatively recent epoch, for the surface of the coral
has scarcely suffered from the action of the weather, and hundreds of
sea-shells, exactly resembling those still found upon the beach, and
many of them retaining their gloss and even their colour, are scattered
over the surface of the island to near its summit.
Whether the Goram group formed originally part of New Guinea or of Ceram
it is scarcely possible to determine, and its productions will throw
little light upon the question, if, as I suppose, the islands have been
entirely submerged within the epoch of existing species of animals,
as in that case it must owe its present fauna and flora to recent
immigration from surrounding lands; and with this view its poverty in
species very well agrees. It possesses much in common with East Ceram,
but at the same time has a good deal of resemblance to the Ke Islands
and Banda. The fine pigeon, Carpophaga concinna, inhabits Ke, Banda,
Il-Iatabello, and Goram, and is replaced by a distinct species, C.
neglecta, in Ceram. The insects of these four islands have also a common
facies--facts which seem to indicate that some more extensive land has
recently disappeared from the area they now occupy, and has supplied
them with a few of its peculiar productions.
The Goram people (among whom I stayed a month) are a race of traders.
Every year they visit the Tenimber, Ke, and Aru Islands, the whole
north-west coast of New Guinea from Oetanata to Salwatty, and the island
of Waigiou and Mysol. They also extend their voyages to Tidore and
Ternate, as well as to Banda and Amboyna, Their praus are all made by
that wonderful race of boatbuilders, the Ke islanders, who annually
turn out some hundreds of boats, large and small, which can hardly be
surpassed for beauty of form and goodness of workmanship, They trade
chiefly in tripang, the medicinal mussoi bark, wild nutmegs, and
tortoiseshell, which they sell to the Bugis traders at Ceram-laut or
Aru, few of them caring to take their products to any other market. In
other respects they are a lazy race, living very poorly, and much given
to opium smoking. The only native manufactures are sail-matting, coarse
cotton cloth, and pandanus-leaf boxes, prettily stained and ornamented
with shell-work.
In the island of Goram, only eight or ten miles long, there are about a
dozen Rajahs, scarcely better off than the rest of the inhabitants, and
exercising a mere nominal sway, except when any order is received from
the Dutch Government, when, being backed by a higher power, they show
a little more strict authority. My friend the Rajah of Ammer (commonly
called Rajah of Goram) told me that a few years ago, before the Dutch
had interfered in the affairs of the island, the trade was not carried
on so peaceably as at present, rival praus often fighting when on the
way to the same locality, or trafficking in the same village. Now such a
thing is never thought of-one of the good effects of the superintendence
of a civilized government. Disputes between villages are still, however,
sometimes settled by fighting, and I one day saw about fifty men,
carrying long guns and heavy cartridge-belts, march through the village.
They had come from the other side of the island on some question
of trespass or boundary, and were prepared for war if peaceable
negotiations should fail.
While at Manowolko I had purchased for 100 florins (£9.) a small prau,
which was brought over the next day, as I was informed it was more
easy to have the necessary alterations made in Goram, where several Ke
workmen were settled.
As soon as we began getting my prau ready I was obliged to give up
collecting, as I found that unless I was constantly on the spot myself
very little work would be clone. As I proposed making some long voyages
in this boat, I determined to fit it up conveniently, and was obliged to
do all the inside work myself, assisted by my two Amboynese boys. I
had plenty of visitors, surprised to see a white man at work, and much
astonished at the novel arrangements I was making in one of their native
vessels. Luckily I had a few tools of my own, including a small saw and
some chisels, and these were now severely tried, cutting and fitting
heavy iron-wood planks for the flooring and the posts that support the
triangular mast. Being of the best London make, they stood the work
well, and without them it would have been impossible for me to have
finished my boat with half the neatness, or in double the time. I had
a Ke workman to put in new ribs, for which I bought nails of a Bugis
trader, at 8d. a pound. My gimlets were, however, too small; and having
no augers we were obliged to bore all the holes with hot irons, a most
tedious and unsatisfactory operation.
Five men had engaged to work at the prau till finished, and then go with
me to Mysol, Waigiou, and Ternate. Their ideas of work were, however,
very different from mine, and I had immense difficulty with them; seldom
more than two or three coming together, and a hundred excuses being
given for working only half a day when they did come. Yet they were
constantly begging advances of money, saying they had nothing to eat.
When I gave it them they were sure to stay away the next day, and when I
refused any further advances some of them declined working any more. As
the boat approached completion my difficulties with the men increased.
The uncle of one had commenced a war, or sort of faction fight, and
wanted his assistance; another's wife was ill, and would not let him
come; a third had fever and ague, and pains in his head and back; and
a fourth had an inexorable creditor who would not let him go out of his
sight. They had all received a month's wages in advance; and though the
amount was not large, it was necessary to make them pay it back, or I
should get any men at all. I therefore sent the village constable
after two, and kept them in custody a day, when they returned about
three-fourths of what they owed me. The sick man also paid, and the
steersman found a substitute who was willing to take his debt, and
receive only the balance of his wages.
About this time we had a striking proof of the dangers of New Guinea
trading. Six men arrived at the village in a small boat almost starved,
having escaped out of two praus, the remainder of whose crews (fourteen
in number) had been murdered by the natives of New Guinea. The praus had
left this village a few months before, and among the murdered men were
the Rajah's son, and the relation or slaves of many of the inhabitants.
The cry of lamentation that arose when the news arrived was most
distressing. A score of women, who had lost husbands, brothers, sons,
or more distant relatives, set up at once the most dismal shrieks and
groans and wailings, which continued at intervals till late at night;
and as the chief houses in the village were crowded together round that
which I occupied, our situation was anything but agreeable.
It seems that the village where the attack took place (nearly opposite
the small island of Lakahia) is known to be dangerous, and the vessels
had only gone there a few days before to buy some tripang. The crew were
living on shore, the praus being in a small river close by, and they
were attacked and murdered in the day-time while bargaining with the
Papuans. The six men who survived were on board the praus, and escaped
by at once setting into the small boat and rowing out to sea.
This south-west part of New Guinea, known to the native traders as
"Papua Kowiyee" and "Papua Onen," is inhabited by the most treacherous
and bloodthirsty tribes. It is in these districts that the commanders
and portions of the crews of many of the early discovery ships were
murdered, and scarcely a year now passes but some lives are lost. The
Goram and Ceram traders are themselves generally inoffensive; they are
well acquainted with the character of these natives, and are not likely
to provoke an attack by any insults or open attempt at robbery or
imposition. They are accustomed to visit the same places every year, and
the natives can have no fear of them, as may be alleged in excuse for
their attacks on Europeans. In other extensive districts inhabited by
the same Papuan races, such as Mysol, Salwatty, Waigiou, and some
parts of the adjacent coast, the people have taken the first step in
civilization, owing probably to the settlement of traders of mixed breed
among them, and for many years no such attacks have taken place. On the
south-west coast, and in the large island of Jobie, however, the natives
are in a very barbarous condition, and tale every opportunity of robbery
and murder,--a habit which is confirmed by the impunity they experience,
owing to the vast extent of wild mountain and forest country forbidding
all pursuit or attempt at punishment. In the very same village, four
years before, more than fifty Goram men were murdered; and as
these savages obtain an immense booty in the praus and all their
appurtenances, it is to be feared that such attacks will continue to be
made at intervals as long as traders visit the same spots and attempt no
retaliation. Punishment could only be inflicted on these people by
very arbitrary measures, such as by obtaining possession of some of the
chiefs by stratagem, and rendering them responsible for the capture of
the murderers at the peril of their own heads. But anything of this kind
would be done contrary to the system adopted by the Dutch Government in
its dealings with natives.
GORAM TO WAHAI IN CERAM.
When my boat was at length launched and loaded, I got my men together,
and actually set sail the next day (May 27th), much to the astonishment
of the Goram people, to whom such punctuality was a novelty. I had a
crew of three men and a boy, besides my two Amboyna lads; which was
sufficient for sailing, though rather too few if obliged to row much.
The next day was very wet, with squalls, calms, and contrary winds, and
with some difficulty we reached Kilwaru, the metropolis of the Bugis
traders in the far East. As I wanted to make some purchases, I stayed
here two days, and sent two of my boxes of specimens by a Macassar prau
to be forwarded to Ternate, thus relieving myself of a considerable
incumbrance. I bought knives, basins, and handkerchiefs for barter,
which with the choppers, cloth, and beads I had brought with me, made
a pretty good assortment. I also bought two tower muskets to satisfy my
crew, who insisted on the necessity of being armed against attacks
of pirates; and with spices and a few articles of food for the voyage
nearly my last doit was expended.
The little island of Kilwaru is a mere sandbank, just large enough to
contain a small village, and situated between the islands of Ceram-laut,
and Kissa--straits about a third of a mile wide separating it from each
of them. It is surrounded by coral reefs, and offers good anchorage in
both monsoons. Though not more than fifty yards across, and not elevated
more than three or four feet above the highest tides, it has wells of
excellent drinking water--a singular phenomenon, which would seem
to imply deep-seated subterranean channels connecting it with other
islands. These advantages, with its situation in the centre of the
Papuan trading district, lead to its being so much frequented by the
Bugis traders. Here the Goram men bring the produce of their little
voyages, which they exchange for cloth, sago cakes, and opium; and
the inhabitants of all the surrounding islands visit it with the game
object. It is the rendezvous of the praus trading to various parts of
New Guinea, which here assort and dry their cargoes, and refit for the
voyage home. Tripang and mussoi bark are the most bulky articles of
produce brought here, with wild nutmegs, tortoiseshell, pearls, and
birds of Paradise; in smaller quantities. The villagers of the mainland
of Ceram bring their sago, which is thus distributed to the islands
farther east, while rice from Bali and Macassar can also be purchased at
a moderate price. The Goram men come here for their supplies of opium,
both for their own consumption and for barter in Mysol and Waigiou,
where they have introduced it, and where the chiefs and wealthy men are
passionately fond of it. Schooners from Bali come to buy Papuan slaves,
while the sea-wandering Bugis arrive from distant Singapore in their
lumbering praus, bringing thence the produce of the Chinamen's
workshops and Kling's bazaar, as well as of the looms of Lancashire and
Massachusetts.
One of the Bugis traders who had arrived a few days before from Mysol,
brought me news of my assistant Charles Allen, with whom he was well
acquainted, and who, he assured me; was making large collections of
birds and insects, although he had not obtained any birds of Paradise;
Silinta, where he was staying, not being a good place for them. This
was on the whole satisfactory, and I was anxious to reach him as soon as
possible.
Leaving Kilwaru early in the morning of June 1st, with a strong east
wind we doubled the point of Ceram about noon, the heavy sea causing my
prau to roll abort a good deal, to the damage of our crockery. As bad
weather seemed coming on, we got inside the reefs and anchored opposite
the village of Warns-warns to wait for a change.
The night was very squally, and though in a good harbour we rolled and
jerked uneasily; but in the morning I had greater cause for uneasiness
in the discovery that our entire Goram crew had decamped, taking with
them all they possessed and a little more, and leaving us without any
small boat in which to land. I immediately told my Amboyna men to load
and fire the muskets as a signal of distress, which was soon answered
by the village chief sending off a boat, which took me on shore. I
requested that messengers should be immediately sent to the neighbouring
villages in quest of the fugitives, which was promptly done. My prau was
brought into a small creek, where it could securely rest in the mud at
low water, and part of a house was given me in which T could stay for
a while. I now found my progress again suddenly checked, just when I
thought I had overcome my chief difficulties. As I had treated my men
with the greatest kindness, and had given them almost everything they
had asked for, I can impute their running away only to their being
totally unaccustomed to the restraint of a European master, and to some
undefined dread of my ultimate intentions regarding them. The oldest man
was an opium smoker, and a reputed thief, but I had been obliged to take
him at the last moment as a substitute for another. I feel sure it was
he who induced the others to run away, and as they knew the country
well, and had several hours' start of us, there was little chance of
catching them.
We were here in the great sago district of East Ceram which supplies
most of the surrounding islands with their daily bread, and during our
week's delay I had an opportunity of seeing the whole process of making
it, and obtaining some interesting statistics. The sago tree is a palm,
thicker and larger than the cocoa-nut tree, although rarely so tall, and
having immense pinnate spiny leaves, which completely cover the trunk
till it is many years old. It has a creeping root-stem like the Nipa
palm, and when about ten or fifteen years of age sends up an immense
terminal spike of flowers, after which the tree dies. It grows in
swamps, or in swampy hollows on the rocky slopes of hills, where it
seems to thrive equally well as when exposed to the influx of salt or
brackish water. The midribs of the immense leaves form one of the most
useful articles in these lands, supplying the place of bamboo, to which
for many purposes they are superior. They are twelve or fifteen feet
long, and, when very fine, as thick in the lower part as a man's leg.
They are very light, consisting entirely of a firm pith covered with
a hard thin rind or bark. Entire houses are built of these; they form
admirable roofing-poles for thatch; split and well-supported, they do
for flooring; and when chosen of equal size, and pegged together side
by side to fill up the panels of framed wooden horses, they have a very
neat appearance, and make better walls and partitions than boards, as
they do not shrink, require no paint or varnish, and are not a quarter
the expense. When carefully split and shaved smooth they are formed into
light boards with pegs of the bark itself, and are the foundation of the
leaf-covered boxes of Goram. All the insect-boxes I used in the Moluccas
were thus made at Amboyna, and when covered with stout paper inside and
out, are strong, light, and secure the insect-pins remarkably well. The
leaflet of the sago folded and tied side by side on the smaller midribs
form the "atap" or thatch in universal use, while the product of the
trunk is the staple food of some= hundred thousands of men.
When sago is to be made, a full-grown tree is selected just before it
is going to flower. It is cut down close to the ground, the leaves and
leafstalks cleared away, and a broad strip of the bark taken off the
upper side of the trunk. This exposes the pithy matter, which is of
a rusty colour near the bottom of the tree, but higher up pure white,
about as hard as a dry apple, but with woody fibre running through it
about a quarter of an inch apart. This pith is cut or broken down into a
coarse powder by means of a tool constructed for the purpose--a club of
hard and heavy wood, having a piece of sharp quartz rock firmly imbedded
into its blunt end, and projecting about half an inch. By successive
blows of this, narrow strips of the pith are cut away, and fall down
into the cylinder formed by the bark. Proceeding steadily on, the whole
trunk is cleared out, leaving a skin not more than half an inch in
thickness. This material is carried away (in baskets made of
the sheathing bases of the leaves) to the nearest water, where a
washing-machine is put up, which is composed almost entirely of the saga
tree itself. The large sheathing bases of the leaves form the troughs,
and the fibrous covering from the leaf-stalks of the young cocoa-nut
the strainer. Water is poured on the mass of pith, which is kneaded and
pressed against the strainer till the starch is all dissolved and has
passed through, when the fibrous refuse is thrown away, and a fresh
basketful put in its place. The water charged with sago starch passes
on to a trough, with a depression in the centre, where the sediment is
deposited, the surplus water trickling off by a shallow outlet. When the
trough is nearly full, the mass of starch, which has a slight reddish
tinge, is made into cylinders of about thirty pounds' weight, and neatly
covered with sago leaves, and in this state is sold as raw sago.
Boiled with water this forms a thick glutinous mass, with a rather
astringent taste, and is eaten with salt, limes, and chilies. Sago-bread
is made in large quantities, by baking it into cakes in a small
clay oven containing six or eight slits side by side, each about
three-quarters of an inch wide, and six or eight inches square. The raw
sago is broken up, dried in the sun, powdered, and finely sifted. The
oven is heated over a clear fire of embers, and is lightly filled with
the sago-powder. The openings are then covered with a flat piece of sago
bark, and in about five minutes the cakes are turned out sufficiently
baked. The hot cakes are very nice with butter, and when made with the
addition of a little sugar and grated cocoa-nut are quite a delicacy.
They are soft, and something like corn-flour cakes, but leave a slight
characteristic flavour which is lost in the refined sago we use in this
country. When not wanted for immediate use, they are dried for several
days in the sun, and tied up in bundles of twenty. They will then keep
for years; they are very hard, and very rough and dry, but the people
are used to them from infancy, and little children may be seen gnawing
at them as contentedly as ours with their bread-and-butter. If dipped in
water and then toasted, they become almost as good as when fresh baked;
and thus treated they were my daily substitute for bread with my coffee.
Soaked and boiled they make a very good pudding or vegetable, and served
well to economize our rice, which is sometimes difficult to get so far
east.
It is truly an extraordinary sight to witness a whole tree-trunk,
perhaps twenty feet long and four or five in circumference, converted
into food with so little labour and preparation. A good-sized tree will
produce thirty tomans or bundles of thirty pounds each, and each toman
will make sixty cakes of three to the pound. Two of these cakes are as
much as a man can eat at one meal, and five are considered a full day's
allowance; so that, reckoning a tree to produce 1,800 cakes, weighing
600 pounds, it will supply a man with food for a whole year. The labour
to produce this is very moderate. Two men will finish a tree in five
days, and two women will bake the whole into cakes in five days more;
but the raw sago will keep very well, and can be baked as wanted, so
that we may estimate that in ten days a man may produce food for the
whole year. This is on the supposition that he possesses sago trees of
his own, for they are now all private property. If he does not, he has
to pay about seven and sixpence for one; and as labour here is five
pence a day, the total cost of a year's food for one man is about
twelve shillings. The effect of this cheapness of food is decidedly
prejudicial, for the inhabitants of the sago countries are never so
well off as those where rice is cultivated. Many of the people here have
neither vegetables nor fruit, but live almost entirely on sago and a
little fish. Having few occupations at home, they wander about on petty
trading or fishing expeditions to the neighbouring islands; and as far
as the comforts of life are concerned, are much inferior to the wild
hill-Dyaks of Borneo, or to many of the more barbarous tribes of the
Archipelago.
The country round Warus-warus is low and swampy, and owing to the
absence of cultivation there were scarcely any paths leading into the
forest. I was therefore unable to collect much during my enforced stay,
and found no rare birds or insects to improve my opinion of Ceram as
a collecting ground. Finding it quite impossible to get men here to
accompany me on the whole voyage, I was obliged to be content with a
crew to take me as far as Wahai, on the middle of the north coast of
Ceram, and the chief Dutch station in the island. The journey took
us five days, owing to calms and light winds, and no incident of any
interest occurred on it, nor did I obtain at our stopping places a
single addition to my collections worth naming. At Wahai, which I
reached on the 15th of June, I was hospitably received by the Commandant
and my old friend Herr Rosenberg, who was now on an official visit here.
He lent me some money to pay my men, and I was lucky enough to obtain
three others willing to make the voyage with me to Ternate, and one more
who was to return from Mysol. One of my Amboyna lads, however, left me,
so that I was still rather short of hands.
I found here a letter from Charles Allen, who was at Silinta in Mysol,
anxiously expecting me, as he was out of rice and other necessaries, and
was short of insect-pins. He was also ill, and if I did not soon come
would return to Wahai.
As my voyage from this place to Waigiou was among islands inhabited by
the Papuan race, and was an eventful and disastrous one, I will narrate
its chief incidents in a separate chapter in that division of my work
devoted to the Papuan Islands. I now have to pass over a year spent in
Waigiou and Timor, in order to describe my visit to the island of Bouru,
which concluded my explorations of the Moluccas.