THE ALABAMA PASSES THROUGH THE STRAIT OF SUNDA, SEEING NOTHING OF THE
WYOMING--BURNS THE WINGED RACER JUST INSIDE THE STRAIT--THE MALAY BOATMEN
AND THEIR ALARM--ALABAMA MAKES FOR THE GASPAR STRAIT, AND BURNS THE
CONTEST, AFTER AN EXCITING CHASE--PASSES THROUGH THE CARIMATA
PASSAGE--DISCHARGES HER PRISONERS INTO AN ENGLISH SHIP--MINIATURE
SEA-SERPENTS--THE CURRENTS--PULO CONDORE--ARRIVAL AT SINGAPORE.
Soon after anchoring as described in the last chapter, we had a false
alarm. It was reported that a bark some distance off had suddenly taken in
all sail, and turned her head in our direction, as though she were a
steamer coming in chase. Orders were given to get up steam, to be ready
for any emergency, but countermanded in a few minutes, when upon a partial
lifting of the rain-clouds, it was ascertained that the strange sail was a
merchant-ship and had only taken in her top-gallant sails to a squall, and
clewed down her topsails, to reef. She was indeed coming in our direction,
but it was only to take shelter for the night. She was a Dutch bark from
Batavia, for the west coast of Sumatra.
The next morning, we got under way, at an early hour, to pass through the
Strait of Sunda into the China Sea. We hove up our anchor in the midst of
a heavy rain-squall, but the weather cleared as the day advanced, and a
fresh and favorable wind soon sprang up. We ran along by Keyser Island,
and at half-past ten lowered the propeller and put the ship under steam.
Under both steam and sail we made rapid headway. We passed between the
high and picturesque islands of Beezee and Soubooko, the channel being
only about a mile in width. Groves of cocoanut-trees grew near the beach
on the former island, among which were some straw-thatched huts. From
these huts, the natives, entirely naked, except a breech-cloth around the
loins, flocked out in great numbers to see the ship pass. Ships do not
often take this narrow channel, and the spectacle was, no doubt, novel to
them. They made no demonstration, but gazed at us in silence as we flew
rapidly past them. We ran through the Strait proper of Sunda, between one
and two o'clock in the afternoon, passing to the westward of the island
called Thwart-the-Way, and close to the Stroom Rock, lying with its
blackened and jagged surface but a few feet above the water. This course
carried us in full view of the little town and garrison of Anjer, but we
saw nothing of the _Wyoming_. We found the Strait of Sunda as unguarded by
the enemy, as we had found the other highways of commerce along which we
had passed.
Just where the Strait debouches into the China Sea, we descried, in the
midst of a rain-squall, to which we were both obliged to clew up our
top-gallant sails, a tall clipper ship, evidently American. She loomed up
through the passing shower like a frigate. We at once gave chase, and in a
very few minutes hove the stranger to with a gun. It was the _Winged
Racer_, which our English friend told us had passed out of the Strait some
days before in his company. She had lingered behind for some reason, and
as a consequence had fallen into the power of her enemy, with no friendly
gun from the _Wyoming_ to protect her. The _Winged Racer_ was a perfect
beauty--one of those New York ships of superb model, with taunt, graceful
masts, and square yards, known as "clippers." She was from Manilla, bound
for New York, with a cargo consisting chiefly of sugar, hides, and jute.
There was no claim of neutral property, and condemnation followed the
capture as a matter of course. We anchored her near North Island, and came
to, ourselves, for the convenience of "robbing" her. She had sundry
provisions on board--particularly sugar and coffee--of which we stood in
need. She had, besides, a large supply of Manilla tobacco, and my sailors'
pipes were beginning to want replenishing. It took us a greater part of
the night--for night had set in by the time the two ships were well
anchored--to transport to the _Alabama_ such things as were needed. In the
meantime, the master of the captured ship, who had his family on board,
requested me to permit him and his crew to depart in his own boats. The
portion of the Javan sea in which we were anchored was a mere lake, the
waters being shallow, and studded every few miles with islands. He
proposed to make his way to Batavia, and report to his Consul for further
assistance. I granted his request, made him a present of all his boats,
and told him to pack into them as much plunder as he chose. About one
o'clock he was ready, and his little fleet of boats departed. The
prisoners from the _Amanda_ took passage with him.
Whilst these things were going on, a number of Malay bum-boatmen had
collected around us, with their stores of fruits, and vegetables, and live
stock. These boatmen, like the Chinese, live on the water, and make a
business of supplying ships that pass through the Strait. The stewards of
the different messes had all been busy trading with them, and there was a
great squalling of chickens, and squealing of pigs going on. An amusing
scene was now to occur. The boatmen had no suspicion that the _Alabama_
had captured the _Winged Racer_, and was about to destroy her. They were
lying on their oars, or holding on to lines from the two ships, with the
most perfect _insouciance_. Presently a flame leaped up on board the
_Winged Racer_, and in a few minutes enveloped her. Terror at once took
possession of the Malay boatmen, and such a cutting of lines, and
shouting, and vigorous pulling were perhaps never before witnessed in the
Strait of Sunda. These boats had informed us that the _Wyoming_ was at
Anger only two days before, when they left.
It was now about two o'clock A. M., and the _Alabama_ getting up her
anchor, steamed out into the China Sea, by the light of the burning ship.
We had thus lighted a bonfire at either end of the renowned old Strait of
Sunda. After having thus advertised our presence in this passage, it was
useless to remain in it longer. Ships approaching it would take the alarm,
and seek some other outlet into the Indian Ocean. Most of the ships coming
down the China Sea, with a view of passing out at the Strait of Sunda,
come through the Gaspar Strait. I resolved now to steam in the direction
of this latter strait, and forestall such as might happen to be on their
way. By daylight we had steamed the coast of Sumatra and Java out of
sight, and soon afterward we made the little island called the North
Watcher, looking, indeed, as its name implied, like a lone sentinel posted
on the wayside. We had lost the beautiful blue waters of the Indian Ocean,
with its almost unfathomable depths, and entered upon a sea whose waters
were of a whitish green, with an average depth of no more than about
twenty fathoms. Finding that I should be up with Gaspar Strait, sometime
during the night, if I continued under steam, and preferring to delay my
arrival until daylight the next morning, I let my steam go down, and put
my ship under sail, to take it more leisurely.
We were about to lift the propeller out of the water, when the cry of
"sail ho!" came from the vigilant look-out at the mast-head. We at once
discontinued the operation, not knowing but we might have occasion to use
steam. As the stranger was standing in our direction, we soon raised her
from the deck, and as my glass developed, first one, and then another of
her features, it was evident that here was another clipper-ship at hand.
She had the well-known tall, raking masts, square yards, and white canvas.
She was on a wind, with everything set, from courses to skysails, and was
ploughing her way through the gently ruffled sea, with the rapidity, and
at the same time, the grace of the swan. We made her a point or two on our
lee bow, and not to excite her suspicion we kept away for her, so
gradually, that she could scarcely perceive the alteration in our course.
We hoisted at the same time the United States colors. When we were within
about four miles of the chase, she responded by showing us the same
colors. Feeling now quite sure of her, we fired a gun, hauled down the
enemy's flag, and threw our own to the breeze. (We were now wearing that
splendid white flag, with its cross and stars, which was so great an
improvement upon the old one.) So far from obeying the command of our gun,
the gallant ship kept off a point or two--probably her best point of
sailing--gave herself top-gallant and topmast studding-sails, and away she
went!
I had been a little premature in my eagerness to clutch so beautiful a
prize. She was not as yet under my guns, and it was soon evident that she
would give me trouble before I could overhaul her. The breeze was
tolerably fresh, but not stiff. We made sail at once in chase. Our steam
had been permitted to go down, as the reader has seen; and as yet we had
not much more than enough to turn over the propeller. The chase was
evidently gaining on us. It was some fifteen or twenty minutes before the
engineer had a head of steam on. We now gave the ship all steam, and
trimmed the sails to the best possible advantage. Still the fugitive ship
retained her distance from us, if she did not increase it. It was the
first time the _Alabama_ had appeared dull. She was under both sail and
steam, and yet here was a ship threatening to run away from her. She must
surely be out of trim. I tried, therefore, the effect of getting my crew
aft on the quarter-deck, and shifting aft some of the forward guns. This
helped us visibly, and the ship sprang forward with increased speed. We
were now at least holding our own, but it was impossible to say, as yet,
whether we were gaining an inch. If the breeze had freshened, the chase
would have run away from us beyond all question. I watched the signs of
the weather anxiously. It was between nine and ten o'clock A. M.
Fortunately, as the sun gained power, and drove away the mists of the
morning, the breeze began to decline! Now came the triumph of steam. When
we had come within long range, I threw the spray over the quarter-deck of
the chase, with a rifle-shot from my bow-chaser. Still she kept on, and it
was not until all hope was evidently lost, that the proud clipper-ship,
which had been beaten rather by the failure of the wind, than the speed of
the _Alabama_, shortened sail and hove to.
When the captain was brought on board, I congratulated him on the skilful
handling of his ship, and expressed my admiration of her fine qualities.
He told me that she was one of the most famous clipper-ships out of New
York. She was the _Contest_, from Yokohama, in Japan, bound to New York.
She was light, and in fine sailing trim, having only a partial cargo on
board. There being no attempt to cover the cargo, consisting mostly of
light Japanese goods, lacker-ware, and curiosities, I condemned both ship
and cargo. I was sorry to be obliged to burn this beautiful ship, and
regretted much that I had not an armament for her, that I might commission
her as a cruiser. Both ships now anchored in the open sea, with no land
visible, in fourteen fathoms of water, whilst the crew was being removed
from the prize, and the necessary preparations made for burning her. It
was after nightfall before these were all completed, and the torch
applied. We hove up our anchor, and made sail by the light of the burning
ship. Having now burned a ship off Gaspar Strait, I turned my ship's head
to the eastward, with the intention of taking the Carimata Strait.
My coal was running so short, by this time, that I was obliged to dispense
with the use of steam, except on emergencies, and work my way from point
to point wholly under sail. Fortune favored me however, for I passed
through the Carimata Strait in the short space of five days against the
north-west monsoon, which was a head-wind. Ships have been known to be
thirty days making this passage. I generally anchored at night, on account
of the currents, and the exceeding difficulty of the navigation--shoals
besetting the navigator on every hand in this shallow sea. We began now to
fall in with some of the curiosities of the China Sea. Salt-water serpents
made their appearance, playing around the ship, and cutting up their
antics. These snakes are from three to five feet long, and when ships
anchor at night, have been known to crawl up the cables, and make their
way on deck through the hawse-holes, greatly to the annoyance of the
sailors who chance to be sleeping on deck. They are not known to be
poisonous. Never having been in the China seas before, I was quite amused
at the gambols of these miniature sea-serpents. Seeing an old sailor
stopping up the hawse-holes, with swabs, one evening after we had
anchored, I asked him what he was about. "I'm stopping out the snakes, y'r
honor," he replied. "What," said I, "do they come on deck?" "Oh! yes, y'r
honor; when I was in the ship _Flying Cloud_, we killed forty of them on
deck in one morning watch."
Naked Malays frequently paddled off to us, when we anchored near their
villages, with fowls, and eggs, and fruits, and vegetables, which they
desired to exchange for rice and ship-bread. In frail piraguas, these
amphibious bipeds will make long voyages from island to island. They seem
to be a sort of wandering Arabs of the sea, and, as a rule, are a great
set of villains, not hesitating to take a hand at piracy when opportunity
offers. So intricate are some of the archipelagos which they inhabit, that
it is next to impossible to track them to their hiding-places. These
nomads, upon whom no civilization seems to make any impression, will
probably long remain the pests of the China seas, in spite of the
steamship.
Emerging from the Carimata passage, we stood over to the west end of the
island of Souriton, where we anchored at four P. M., on the 18th of
November. Here we lay several days, and for the convenience of overhauling
passing ships, without the necessity of getting under way, we hoisted out,
and rigged our launch, a fine cutter-built boat, and provisioning and
watering her for a couple of days at a time, sent her out cruising;
directing her, however, to keep herself within sight of the ship. A number
of sails were overhauled, but they all proved to be neutral--mostly
English and Dutch. I was much struck with the progress the Dutch were
making in these seas. Holland, having sunk to a fourth or fifth rate power
in Europe, is building up quite an empire in the East. The island of Java
is a little kingdom in itself, and the boers, with the aid of the natives,
whom they seem to govern with great success are fast bringing its fertile
lands into cultivation. Batavia, Sourabia, and other towns are rising
rapidly into importance. The Dutch are overrunning the fine island of
Sumatra, too. They have established military stations over the greater
part of it, and are gradually bringing the native chiefs under subjection.
They occupy the spice islands, and are extending their dominion thence to
the northward. In short, Great Britain must look to her laurels in the
China seas, if she would not divide them with Holland.
In the meantime, the inquiry naturally presents itself, Where is the
Yankee? that he is permitting all this rich harvest of colonization and
trade in the East to pass away from him. It was at one time thought that
he would contest the palm of enterprise with England herself, but this
dream has long since been dispelled. Even before the war, his trade began
to dwindle. During the war it went down to zero, and since the war it has
not revived. Is he too busy with his internal dissensions and politics? Is
the miserable faction which has ruled the country for the last seven years
determined to destroy all its prosperity, foreign as well as domestic?
While lying at Souriton, we boarded the British ship _Avalanche_, two days
from Singapore, with newspapers from America just forty days old! Here was
a proof of the British enterprise of which we have just been speaking. The
Atlantic, the Mediterranean, the Red Sea, the Indian Ocean, and a part of
the China Sea, are traversed by British steam and sail, and the _Alabama_
shakes out the folds of a newspaper from the land of her enemy, at an
out-of-the-way island in the China Sea, just forty days old! The
_Avalanche_ kindly consenting, we sent by her our prisoners to Batavia. We
now got under way, and stood over to the west coast of Borneo, where we
cruised for a few days, working our way gradually to the northward; it
being my intention as soon as I should take the north-east monsoon, which
prevails at this season in the China Sea, to the northward of the equator,
to stretch over to the coast of Cochin China, and hold myself for a short
time in the track of the ships coming down from Canton and Shanghai. I was
greatly tempted as I passed Sarawak, in the island of Borneo, to run in
and visit my friend Rajah Brooke, whose career in the East has been so
remarkable a one. Cruising in these seas, years ago, when he was a young
man, in his own yacht, a jaunty little armed schooner of about 200 tons,
he happened in at Sarawak. The natives, taking a fancy to him and his tiny
man-of-war, insisted upon electing him their Rajah, or Governor. He
assented, got a foothold in the island, grew in favor, increased his
dominions, and was, at the period of our visit to the coast, one of the
most powerful Rajahs in Borneo. Since my return from the China seas, the
Rajah has died, full of years and full of honors, bequeathing his
government to a blood relation. It would be difficult for even a Yankee to
beat that!
Upon reaching this coast, we struck a remarkable northerly current. It ran
at the rate of two knots per hour, its general set being about north-east.
The weather falling calm, we were several days within its influence. When
it had drifted us as far to the northward as I desired to go, I was
obliged to let go a kedge in fifty fathoms water to prevent further drift.
The current now swept by us at so rapid a rate, that we were compelled to
lash two deep sea leads together, each weighing forty-five pounds, to keep
our drift-lead on the bottom. Here was another of those elliptical
currents spoken of a few pages back. If the reader will look at a map of
the China Sea, he will observe that the north-east monsoon, as it comes
sweeping down that sea, in the winter months, blows parallel with the
coasts of China and Cochin China. This wind drives a current before it to
the south-west. This current, as it strikes the peninsula of Malacca, is
deflected to the eastward toward the coast of Sumatra. Impinging upon this
coast, it is again deflected and driven off in the direction of the island
of Borneo. This island in turn gives it a northern direction, and the
consequence is, that the south-westerly current which came sweeping down
the western side of the China Sea, is now going up on the eastern side of
the same sea, as a north-easterly current. We lay five days at our kedge,
during a calm that lasted all that time. The monsoons were changing; the
west monsoon was setting in in the East Indian archipelago, and the
north-eastern monsoon in the China Sea. Hence the calms, and rains, and
sudden gusts of wind, now from one quarter, and now from another, which we
had experienced. At the end of these five days of calm, we took the
north-east monsoon, from about N. N. E., and, getting up our kedge, we
made our way over to the coast of Cochin China, in accordance with the
intention already expressed.
There is no navigation, perhaps, in the world, so trying to the vigilance
and nerves of the mariner as that of the China seas. It is a coral sea,
and filled with dangers in almost every direction, especially in its
eastern portion, from the Philippine Islands down to the Strait of Sunda.
The industrious little stone-mason, which we have before so often referred
to, has laid the foundation of a new empire, at the bottom of the China
Sea, and is fast making his way to the surface. He has already dotted the
sea with ten thousand islands, in its eastern portion, and is silently and
mysteriously piling up his tiny blocks of stone, one upon another, in the
central and western portions. He is working very irregularly, having large
gangs of hands employed here, and very few there, and is running up his
structures in very fantastic shapes, some in solid blocks, with even
surfaces, some as pyramids, and some as cones. The tops of the pyramids
and cones are sometimes as sharp as needles, and pierce a ship's bottom as
readily as a needle would a lady's finger. It is impossible to survey such
a sea with accuracy. A surveying vessel might drop a lead on almost every
square foot of bottom, and yet miss some of these mere needle-points. A
ship, with the best of modern charts, may be threading this labyrinth, as
she thinks, quite securely, and suddenly find herself impaled upon one of
these dangers.
To add to the perplexity of the navigator, days sometimes elapse,
especially when the monsoons are changing, during which it is impossible
to get an observation for fixing the position of his ship; and during
these days of incessant darkness, and drenching rains, he is hurried about
by currents, he knows not whither. And then, perhaps, the typhoon comes
along--that terrible cyclone of the China seas--at the very moment, it may
be, when he is, by reason of the causes mentioned, uncertain of his
position, and compels him to scud his ship at hazard, among shoals and
breakers! I lost many nights of rest when in these seas, and felt much
relieved when the time came for me to turn my back upon them. The wind
freshened as we drew out from the coast of Borneo, and by the time we had
reached the track of the westward-bound ships, we found the monsoon
blowing a whole topsail-breeze. We struck, at the same time, the
south-westerly current described, and what with the wind and the current,
we found it as much as we could do to hold our own, and prevent ourselves
from being drifted to leeward. It soon became apparent that it would be
useless to attempt operations here, unless assisted by steam. Every chase
would probably carry us miles to leeward, whence it would be impossible,
under sail alone, to regain our position. Still, we held ourselves a day
or two in the track, in accordance with my previous determination,
overhauling several ships, none of which, however, proved to be enemy.
At the end of this short cruise, we made sail for the island of Condore,
or, as it is called on the charts of the China Sea, Pulo Condore, the word
"pulo" being the Chinese term for island. My intention was to run into
this small island, which has a snug harbor, sheltered from the monsoon, do
some necessary repairs with my own mechanics, refit and repaint, and then
run down to Singapore, and fill up with coal. My future course would be
guided by contingencies. We made Pulo Condore early in the afternoon of
the second of December, and passing to the northward of the "White Rock,"
bore up, and ran along the western side of the island until nightfall,
when we anchored under the lee of a small, rocky island, near the mouth of
the harbor. The scenery was bold, picturesque, and impressive. All was
novelty; the shallow sea, the whistling monsoon, and the little islands
rising so abruptly from the sea, that a goat could scarcely clamber up
their sides. The richest vegetation covered these islands from the
sea-level to their summits. Occasionally a break or gap in the
mountain--for Pulo Condore rises to the height of a mountain--disclosed
charming ravines, opening out into luxuriant plains, where were grazing
the wild cattle of the country--the bison, or small-humped buffalo of the
East.
At daylight the next morning, upon looking into the harbor with our
glasses, we were surprised to see a small vessel at anchor, wearing the
French flag; and pretty soon afterward we were boarded by a French boat;
Pulo Condore--lying off the coast of Cochin China--having recently become
a French colony. The island had been taken possession of by France two
years before. The vessel was a ship of war, keeping watch and ward over
the lonely waters. This was a surprise. I had expected to find the island
in the hands of the Malay nomads who infest these seas, and to have
converted it into Confederate territory, as I had done Angra Pequena, on
the west coast of Africa--at least during my stay. And so when I had
invited the French officer, who was himself the commander of the little
craft, into my cabin, I remarked to him, "You have spoiled a pet project
of mine." "How so?" said he. I then explained to him how, in imitation of
my friend Brooke, I had intended to play Rajah for a few weeks, in Pulo
Condore. He laughed heartily, and said, "_Sera tout le meme chose,
Monsieur. Vous portez plus de cannons que moi, et vous serez Rajah,
pendant votre sejour_." I did carry a few more guns than my French friend,
for his little man-of-war was only a craft of the country, of less than a
hundred tons burden, armed with one small carronade. His crew consisted of
about twenty men.
I found him as good as his word, with reference to my playing Rajah, for
he did not so much as mention to me, once, any rule limiting the stay of
belligerents in French waters. We now got under way, and stood in to the
anchorage, the French officer kindly consenting to show me the way in;
though there was but little need, as the harbor was quite free from
obstructions, except such as were plainly visible. The water in this cosy
little harbor was as smooth as a mill-pond, notwithstanding occasional
gusts of the monsoon swept down the mountain sides. There were mountains
on two sides of us, both to the north and south. The harbor was, in fact,
formed by two mountainous islands, both passing under the name of Condore;
there being only a boat-passage separating them on the east.
This was our first real resting-place, since leaving the Cape of Good
Hope, and both officers and men enjoyed the relaxation. The island was
full of game, the bay full of fish, and the bathing very fine. We felt
quite secure, too, against the approach of an enemy. The only enemy's
steamer in these seas was the _Wyoming_, for which we regarded ourselves
as quite a match. We had, besides, taken the precaution, upon anchoring,
to lay out a spring, by which we could, in the course of a few minutes,
present our broadside to the narrow entrance of the harbor, and thus rake
anything that might attempt the passage. The Governor of the island now
came on board to visit us. He had his headquarters at a small Malay
village on the east coast, where, by the aid of a sergeant's guard, he
ruled his subjects with despotic sway. He brought me on board a present of
a pig, and generously offered to share with me a potato-patch near the
ship. What more could a monarch do? This was an exceedingly clever young
Frenchman--Monsieur Bizot--he was an ensign in the French Navy, about
twenty-two years of age, and a graduate of the French naval school. The
commander of his flag-ship--the small country craft already described--was
a midshipman. These two young men had entire control of the government of
the island, civil and military.
Kell having set his mechanics at work in the various departments, to
effect the necessary repairs on the ship, I relaxed the reins of
discipline, as much as possible, that, by boat-sailing, fishing, and
hunting excursions, my people might recruit from the ill effects of their
long confinement on ship-board, and the storms and bad weather they had
experienced. The north-east monsoon having now fairly set in, the weather
had become fine. The heat was very great, it is true, but it was much
tempered by the winds. During the two weeks that we remained in the
island, almost every part of it was explored by my adventurous
hunters--even the very mountain tops--and marvellous were the reports of
their adventures which they brought on board. Some small specimens of deer
were found; the bison--the bull of which is very savage, not hesitating to
assault the hunter, under favorable circumstances--abounded on the small
savannas; monkeys travelled about in troops; parrots, and other birds of
beautiful plumage, wheeled over our heads in flocks--in short, the whole
island seemed teeming with life. The natives told us that there were many
large, and some poisonous serpents in the jungles, but fortunately none of
my people were injured by them.
We found here the famous vampyre of the East. Several specimens were shot,
and brought on board. Some of these monster bats measure from five to six
feet from tip to tip of wing. The head resembles that of a wolf. It has
long and sharp incisor-teeth and tusks, and would be a dangerous animal to
attack an unarmed man. The reptile tribe flourishes in perfection. A
lizard, measuring five feet ten inches in length, was brought on board by
one of the hunters. Nature runs riot in every direction, and the vegetable
world is as curious as the animal. The engineer coming on board, one day,
from one of his excursions, pulled out his cigar case, and offered me a
very tempting Havana cigar. Imagine my surprise when I found it a piece of
wood! It had been plucked fresh from the tree. The size, shape, and
color--a rich brown--were all perfect. It was not a capsule or a seed-pod,
but a solid piece of wood, with the ordinary woody fibre, and full of sap.
I put it away carefully among my curiosities, but after a few days it
shrivelled, and lost its beauty.
The apes did not appear to be afraid of the gun--probably because they
were not accustomed to be shot at. They would cluster around a
hunting-party, and grin and chatter like so many old negroes, one
sometimes sees on the coast of Africa. One of the midshipmen having shot
one, described the death of the old gentleman to me, and said that he felt
almost as if he had killed his old "uncle" on his father's plantation. The
wounded creature--whatever it may be, man or animal--threw its arms over
the wound, and moaned as plaintively and intelligibly as if it had been
gifted with the power of speech, and were upbraiding its slayer. During
our stay I made the acquaintance--through my opera-glass--of several of
these lampoons upon human nature. A gang of apes, old and young, came down
to the beach regularly every morning, to look at the ship. The old men and
women would seat themselves in rows, and gaze at us, sometimes for an
hour, without changing their places or attitudes--seeming to be absorbed
in wonder. I became quite familiar with some of their countenances. The
young people did not appear to be so strongly impressed. They would walk
about the beach in twos and threes--making love, most likely, and settling
future family arrangements. The children, meanwhile, would be romping
around the old people, screaming and barking in very delight. If a boat
approached them, the old people would give a peculiar whistle, when the
younger members of the tribe would betake themselves at once to the cover
of the adjoining jungle.
A hunting party, landing here one morning, shot one of these old apes. The
rest scampered off, and were seen no more that day. The next morning, upon
turning my opera-glass upon the beach, I saw the monkeys as usual, but
they were broken into squads, and moving about in some disorder, instead
of being seated as usual. I could plainly see some of them at work. Some
appeared to be digging in the sand, and others to be bringing twigs and
leaves of trees, and such of the debris of the forest as they could
gather conveniently. It was my usual hour for landing, to get sights for
my chronometers. As the boat approached, the whole party disappeared. I
had the curiosity to walk to the spot, to see what these semi-human beings
had been doing. They had been burying their dead comrade, and had not
quite finished covering up the body, when they had been disturbed! The
deceased seemed to have been popular, for a large concourse had come to
attend his funeral. The natives told us, that this burial of the monkeys
was a common practice. They believe in monkey doctors, too, for they told
us that when they have come upon sick monkeys in the woods, they have
frequently found some demure old fellows looking very wise, with their
fingers on their noses sitting at their bed-sides. The ladies may be
curious to know, from the same good authority, how the monkeys of Pulo
Condore treat their women. As among the Salt Lake saints, polygamy
prevails, and there are sometimes as many as a dozen females "sealed" to
one old patriarch--especially if he be broad across the shoulders, and
have sharp teeth. The young lady monkeys are required to form matrimonial
connections during the third or fourth season of their belledom; that is
to say, the parent monkeys will permit their daughters to sally out and
return home as often as they please, after they have "come out," until
three or four moons have elapsed. After that time they are expected to
betake themselves to their own separate trees for lodging.
I was frequently startled, whilst we lay at Pulo Condore, at hearing what
appeared to be the whistle of a locomotive--rather shrill, it may be, but
very much resembling it. It proceeded from an enormous locust.
Pulo Condore lies in the route of the French mail-steamer, between
Singapore and Saigon, the latter the capital of the French possessions in
Cochin China, and the Governor receiving a large mail while we were here,
was kind enough to send us some late papers from Paris and Havre. Every
two or three days, too, he sent us fresh beef, fowls, and fruits. On the
Sunday evening after our arrival, he, and his paymaster repeated their
visit to us, and brought in the same boat with themselves, a bullock--a
fine fat bison! In a country comparatively wild, and where supplies were
so difficult to be obtained, these presents were greatly enhanced in
value. Poor Monsieur Bizot! we all regretted to learn, upon our return to
Europe, that this promising young officer, so full of talent, life,
energy, hope, had fallen a victim to a malarial fever.
Kell performed quite a feat at Pulo Condore in the way of ship-carpentry.
Our copper having fallen off, some distance below the water-line, he
constructed a coffer or caisson, that fitted the side of the ship so
nicely, when sunk to the required depth, that he had only to pump it out,
with our fire-engine and suction-hose, to enable his mechanics to descend
into a dry box and effect the necessary repairs. We found our ship so much
out of order, that it required two weeks to get her ready for sea. At the
end of this time, we took an affectionate leave of our French friends, and
getting under way, under sail, we again threw ourselves into the monsoon,
and south-west current, and turned our head in the direction of Singapore.
We crossed the Gulf of Siam under easy sail, that we might have the
benefit of any chance capture, that might present itself. There was a
number of vessels hurrying on before the brisk monsoon, but no Yankee
among them. The Yankee flag had already become a stranger in the China
Sea. On the evening of the 19th of December, we ran in, and anchored under
Pulo Aor, in twenty fathoms water, within half a mile of the village, on
the south-west end of the island. The island is high, and broken--its
forests being composed almost entirely of the cocoanut--and is inhabited
by the same class of Malay nomads already described. Their houses were
picturesquely scattered among the trees, and several large boats were
hauled up near them, on the beach, ready for any enterprise that might
offer, in their line. The head man came off to visit me, and some piraguas
with fowls and fruits came alongside, to trade with the sailors.
These islanders appeared to be a merry set of fellows, for during nearly
the whole night, we could hear the sound of tom-toms, and other musical
instruments, as though they were engaged in the mysteries of the dance.
Some very pretty specimens of young women, naked to the middle, came off
in their light piraguas, handling the paddle equally with the men, and
appearing quite as much at home on the water. The next day being Sunday,
and the weather not being very propitious for our run to Singapore, it
being thick and murky, we remained over at our anchors, at this island,
mustering the crew, and inspecting the ship as usual. After muster, some
of the officers visited the shore, and were hospitably received by the
natives. They saw no evidences of the cultivation of the soil, or of any
other kind of labor. Nature supplied the inhabitants, spontaneously, with
a regular succession of fruits all the year round, and as for clothing,
they needed none, so near the equator. The sea gave them fish; and the
domestic fowl, which seemed to take care of itself, and the goat which
browsed without care also on the mountain-side, secured them against the
caprice of the elements. Their _physique_ was well developed, and life
seemed to be with them a continual holiday. Who shall say that the
civilized man is a greater philosopher, than the savage of the China seas?
On the next morning, at a very early hour--just as the cocks on shore were
crowing for early daylight--we hove up our anchor, and giving the ship
both steam and sail, shaped our course for Singapore. Soon after getting
under way, we fell in company with an English steamer running also in our
direction. The navigation, as one approaches the Strait of Malacca, on
which Singapore is situated, is very difficult, there being some ugly
shoals by the wayside; and the weather coming on thick, and heavy rains
setting in, we were obliged to anchor in the mouth of the Strait for
several hours. The weather now lifting, and the clouds breaking away, we
got under way, again, and taking a Malay pilot soon afterward, we ran into
Singapore, and anchored, at about five P. M. The harbor was filled with
shipping, but there was no United States ship of war among the number. The
reader has seen that the _Wyoming_ was at Anger in the Strait of Sunda,
only two days before we burned the _Winged Racer_. She must have heard of
that event soon after its occurrence, and also of our burning the
_Contest_ near Gaspar Strait. The English ship _Avalanche_ had, besides,
carried news to Batavia, that we were off Sorouton, still higher up the
China Sea. The _Wyoming_, if she had any intention of seeking a fight with
us, was thus entirely deceived by our movements. These indicated that we
were bound to Canton and Shanghai, and thither, probably, she had gone.
She must have passed within sight of Pulo Condore, while we were scraping
down our masts, tarring our rigging, and watching the funeral of the dead
monkey described; and about the time she was ready to run into Hongkong,
in the upper part of the China Sea, we had run into Singapore, and
anchored in the lower part.