IN THE TROPICS.
In a tour around the world one travels by steamer about six thousand
miles through the tropics. Entering the torrid zone soon after
leaving Hong Kong, almost touching the equator at Singapore, and
not entering the temperate zone again until he is nearly half way
through the Red Sea, he has ample time to study the temperature; and
our opportunities were still farther enlarged by the trip to Java,
which carried us nearly eight degrees below the equator. While on
the water the heat is not so noticeable, being relieved by the ocean
breezes, on land one suffers during the middle of the day. It is
not that the heat in the shade is greater than the summer heat in
the United States, but one can not always be in the shade, and the
rays of the sun are piercing to a degree which is inconceivable to
one without experience in these latitudes. At the seaports, too, the
heat is intensified by the weight and moisture of the air, and the
temperature is practically the same the year round--at least one who
visits this part of the world in the winter time can not imagine it
worse.
While, the native population work barebacked, barelegged,
barefooted, and sometimes bareheaded, Americans and Europeans resort
to every possible device to protect them from the climate.
The white helmet, with a lining of cork, is the most common headwear
for both men and women, and it does not require a very long stay
here to convince one that it is superior to the straw hat. White
clothes which reflect the rays of the sun are also largely worn by
both sexes. For evening dress, men sometimes wear a close-fitting
white jacket, reaching to the waist, and before breakfast they
lounge about in pajamas of variegated colors.
Eating extends through the entire day. Tea or coffee can be had
from five to eight; breakfast is ready at eight or nine and ends at
twelve; lunch or tiffin as it is called here, occupies the hours
from one to three; then tea follows at four, and dinner is served
from eight to ten-thirty. These are the hours for Europeans and
Americans, and for those natives who have adopted foreign ways, but
most of the natives look as if they had missed some of these meals.
[Illustration: IN THE TROPICS.]
We are among the dark-skinned races here. Chinamen are a darker
yellow than those seen farther north, the Malays are a dark brown
and Tamils are quite black, while the Singalese and Indians are
between a black and brown. Mark Twain pays a high compliment to
these dark-skinned people at the expense of the white races,
contending that their complexion is always good, while the white
face has freckles, pimples and moles to mar it.
There are two great seaports near the equator which every traveler
visits, viz.: Singapore and Colombo, and most of the boats also stop
at Penang, a thriving city on the Malay peninsula, some four hundred
miles north of Singapore. Singapore is on a small island of the same
name not far from the mainland, and its harbor is full of sea-going
vessels of all nations. The ships from Europe to China and Japan
call here, as do also the boats between Europe and Java and between
India and Australia. Here, too, are to be found representatives of
many nationalities, twenty-nine distinct languages being spoken
in this one city. The Portuguese were the pioneers, and there are
still some descendants of the early traders living on the island.
Next in point of time came the Dutch, and their nation is still more
numerously represented among the business firms. England, however,
though a later arrival, has largely supplanted both in the control
of the commerce of the port, though the Germans seem to be numerous.
Singapore and Penang are the great export ports for tin,
three-fourths of the world's output for that product being mined
near by. The United States takes ten and a half million dollars of
tin from the Straits Settlements and six millions of other products
and sells only $1,161,000 worth in return.
I might add in this connection that the trade possibilities of
the tropics have been very much overestimated by enthusiastic
expansionists. The natives raise their own food at a much lower cost
than we could possibly sell it to them, even if our food were suited
to their wants. They do not need our building material, and as for
clothing, one American is worth more as a customer than a hundred
of these natives. While a few wear rich robes, the mass content
themselves with a very scanty costume of very cheap cotton--a
costume which someone has described as "a handkerchief around the
loins and a table cloth around the head." No shoe manufacturer need
send a salesman to these parts, for even the coachman and footmen in
livery are barefooted. I once supposed that we might work up a trade
in breech clouts and fishing rods, but I find the latter grow here
in profusion, and the former are not valuable enough to furnish a
basis for much trade.
There is one branch of commerce that might be developed if this
were not the home of the gem and if the natives were not skillful
goldsmiths. Jewelry is the passion here. Women fairly load
themselves down with ornaments when they can afford it. They wear
rings on the fingers and toes, bracelets and anklets, ear ornaments
galore and, strangest of all, jewels in the nose. We noticed one
woman yesterday with three enormous pendants hanging from each ear,
one from the top, one from the side and one from the lobe, and our
coachman at Kandy was resplendent with six in either ear, but his
jewelry was more modest in size. The nose ornaments look like shirt
studs and are screwed into one or both nostrils; sometimes a ring
hangs from the point of the nose. The necklaces vary greatly in
style, workmanship and value. The island of Ceylon is rich in gems
and furnishes a variety of stones for the jeweler's art. From the
fact that nearly all of the precious stones mentioned in the Bible
are to be found here it is thought that Ceylon must have been known
to the Israelites and that her ships carried wealth to Solomon.
[Illustration: THE LAKE AT KANDY, CEYLON.]
After seeing the extravagant use of jewelry here, one is almost
tempted to forgive even the most vulgar display of precious stones
made in the Occident; and then, too, the rubies, sapphires, the
diamonds, the emeralds, the amethysts, the alexanderites, the
cat's eyes, the opals, etc., exhibited in the stores here are so
beautiful that one must be proof against vanity to resist their
charms.
Ice might have formed an important item of trade, for nowhere does
the white man appreciate this luxury more, had not the ice machine
made importation unnecessary. The larger boats now manufacture
their own ice from condensed sea water, and there are plants at
all the important ports. We went from Borneo to Singapore on a
ship which was not equipped with an ice machine, and we complained
when the supply gave out. An English passenger took advantage of
our distress to compare national characteristics, and humorously
remarked that when the Americans moved into a new territory, they at
once established an ice plant, while the English gave their first
attention to the laying out of cricket grounds.
One does not travel far in the Orient until he becomes a crank on
the subject of water. He receives so many warnings that he soon
suspects that disease lurks in every glassful. If he tries the
bottled waters, they pall on the taste, and if he relies on boiled
water he is tormented with fear that it has not really been boiled
or that some other water has been accidentally substituted. "The Old
Oaken Bucket" is recalled as a vision of delight, and "the well at
home" is remembered with an admiration never felt before (faucet may
be substituted for well by those who live in a city).
Colombo is situated on the island of Ceylon just below the
southernmost point of the mainland of India. Here, too, is a
commodious harbor visited by all merchant fleets. It vies with
Singapore as an equatorial port. The "spicy breezes" of Ceylon are
immortalized in song and story--it is the land
"Where every prospect pleases
And only man is vile."
[Illustration: SINGALESE CHIEF'S DAUGHTER--SHOWING JEWELRY.]
At Kandy, about seventy-five miles from the coast, there is an
excellent botanical garden rivaling the garden at Buitenzorg, even
as Kandy itself rivals Buitenzorg as a summer resort. (There are
extensive gardens at Singapore and Penang, but they are inferior to
those in Ceylon and Java.) These gardens are about equally distant
from the equator; the former north, the latter south, but the garden
at Kandy has twice the altitude of the other. We were interested
in comparing the plants and examining the new specimens. While
Buitenzorg is superior in her collection of orchids the ferns at
Kandy surpass anything we have seen. Here the yellow bamboo is added
to the varieties seen elsewhere; here, too, we saw the screw palm,
whose leaves form a spiral line like the thread of a screw. Another
curious variety is the sealing wax palm, the higher joints of which
look exactly like red sealing wax. The travelers' palm, which we
also saw in Java, is to be found here, its name being derived from
the fact that each leaf stem catches and holds sufficient water to
slake a traveler's thirst. The talipot palm attracts the attention
of all visitors, not only because its leaves formed the parchment
for the early books of Buddhism, but because it flowers but once,
and then, as if exhausted by its half century's effort, dies. The
sensitive plant grows wild here and seems almost human in its
perception, as it shrinks from the slightest touch and folds its
leaves as if withered.
[Illustration: SINGALESE CARPENTER.]
I have already spoken of the fruits of the tropics, especially those
of Java, but I think I ought to qualify my words. Since reveling in
mangosteens, rambutans, etc., I have eaten an apple and am convinced
that no tropical fruit can compare with it; and when to the apple
are added the peach, the pear, the plum and the cherry, and to
these fruits of the trees are added the grape, the strawberry,
the raspberry and the blackberry, not to speak of the pineapples,
oranges and bananas of our southern states, who will say that the
temperate zone is not as highly favored as the warmer lands?
We not only have an abundance of both the necessaries and the
luxuries, but we escape some of the torments of the tropics.
Animals, reptiles and insects run riot here. The tiger is
"man-eating," the serpents are large and poisonous and the insects
are omnipresent. We sometimes complain at home of the mosquito,
which seems to be a universal pest, and found everywhere, "from
Greenland's icy mountains to India's coral strands," but here its
activity is perennial and its appetite reaches its maximum. In all
the hotels the beds are protected by mosquito bars, for without them
sleep would be impossible. The ant is even more annoying than the
mosquito, for while the former does most of its prowling at night,
the latter "improves each shining hour." If the natives play the
sluggard, it is because they refuse to profit by the example of
industry which the ant ever presents to them. It is not uncommon
for the legs of dining tables and cupboards to be set in bowls of
water as a protection from these insects, and where this precaution
is not taken the diner divides his time between eating and fighting
ants. The white ant has a literary turn of mind and pays especial
attention to books. We have heard of several libraries being ravaged
by this insect, the leaves being so perforated that the books
looked like honeycombs. In his search for knowledge the ant has the
companionship of the cockroach, which grows here to the length of
two or three inches, can fly, and stains what it can not devour.
The house lizard is always in evidence. One evening we counted
twenty-four of these interesting little reptiles in sight at one
time on our porch. At night lizards in the trees call hoarsely to
each other, and when it rains the air is vocal with the croaking of
frogs and the singing of insects.
In the Botanical Garden at Kandy we saw hundreds of flying foxes,
which look like buzzards. Some of these flying foxes measure four
feet from tip to tip.
I find that there is a disease in these latitudes called tropical
frenzy--an uncontrollable anger which sometimes manifests itself
when European officials deal with native subjects. This has been
seriously discussed in medical meetings, and it has been argued
that acts of violence on the part of officials should be excused
on this ground. The subject has been scientifically considered at
a meeting of German physicians. This disease seems to be confined
to Europeans, the natives being immune from it--at least, it is not
considered a good defense when urged by a native as an excuse for
doing violence to a European.
My experience with the money changers of the Orient has made the
money changers of America seem virtuous by comparison. This is
the worst place for shaving, for discounts, for premiums, for
commissions and for exchange that I have visited. In traveling, one
has frequently to change money from the currency of one nation to
that of another, and as there seems to be no fixed rate, he never
knows what he is going to realize. (By the way, one who thinks that
a gold dollar is good the world around can learn something from the
discounts.) At Colombo I had some Singapore bills converted into
rupees. The cashier at the hotel said that the rate was one-twenty,
and gave me twelve rupees for ten dollars. A few minutes afterwards
I had occasion to buy some tickets of a tourist agent and he allowed
me fifteen rupees for ten dollars; the next time I made change I
received sixteen rupees and seventy cents for ten. This is a sample
of the experience one has here. At Singapore I drew some money on my
letter of credit which calls for pounds; as I was going into English
territory, I thought it would be convenient to carry some five pound
notes, but the bank insisted on converting the pounds into Singapore
dollars at eight-forty-five, and then offered to sell me five pound
notes at the rate of eight-seventy. When I related the incident to
an Englishman, he recalled an instance where a man presented a two
hundred pound note and asked for smaller bills; the bank charged him
a commission for converting the larger bills into rupees and then
another commission for converting the rupees into five pound notes.
[Illustration: TAMIL GIRL--CEYLON.]
I found in China that the notes issued by a bank in one city would
be discounted when presented at a branch of the same bank in another
city. Throughout the Malay states the Chinese are conspicuous as
money lenders, but at Singapore they come into competition with the
Indians, who are their superior in this line of business. At Colombo
we saw no Chinese at all.
We have found the American missionary everywhere, but his work among
the Malays is less promising than anywhere else. Missionary work has
been quite successful among the Chinese in the Malay archipelago
and among the Tamils at Singapore, but nearly all the Malays are
Mohammedans, and while they believe in one God and recognize Christ
as a great prophet, they believe the author of their religion to
have been a superior teacher.
In traveling, one has an opportunity to study human nature in all
its phases, and in an extended trip meets representatives of all the
nations. The North German Lloyd has a line running from Yokohama to
Bremen. (This line, I may add, makes it possible for one to go from
San Francisco to New York within two months, with but two changes
of boat, and still stop long enough at the principal ports to learn
something of the cities and the people.) We went from Singapore to
Colombo on one of the boats of this line. Besides a few Americans,
Germans and Hollanders, and a still larger number of English, there
were several Japanese en route for Europe, and Russian officers and
soldiers returning from Japan. We made some agreeable acquaintances
among the company, as it is possible to do on every voyage, but
just before leaving the boat at Colombo we came into contact with
a tourist who belonged to the genus hog. Our boat arrived between
eight and nine in the evening, and the porters informed us that the
hotels were full, but that we could obtain rooms in the morning, as
a number would leave on our ship. I stated the case to the captain,
and he assured me that we were welcome to remain on board until
morning. Just as my wife and daughter were retiring, a man came on
board, followed by a lot of baggage, and directed his porter to
put it in our room. I explained to him that not being able to find
accommodations on shore, we had obtained permission to occupy the
room until morning, but he brusquely replied that he had engaged
the room two months before and must have it. I called his attention
to the fact that the boat was late in reaching port and would not
leave until nearly noon the next day, and suggested as politely as
I could that the captain was the proper person to decide whether
he was entitled to claim the room under the circumstances. Without
consulting the captain he went to the steward and demanded that the
ladies be moved to another room, although another room was placed at
his disposal for the night. It required some plain, straightforward
and emphatic language to bring him to the point where he was willing
to occupy a different room temporarily, and I am afraid that he
still regards Americans as very rude and uncouth creatures. He
is, however, the first man whom I have met so far who would claim
as a right that to which he was not entitled, and then demand the
enforcement of the assumed right without regard to the convenience
of others.
On the last mentioned trip we witnessed a burial at sea, the first
that has occurred during our voyage. One of the passengers died
after we left Singapore, and we learned of it while the funeral
services were in progress. The corpse was enclosed in a black
(weighted) coffin in which several holes were bored. The ship
slackened its speed, and as the band played a funeral dirge, the
body was slowly lowered. Upon reaching the water it floated back for
a short distance and then disappeared. It was a sad sight to see the
remains of a human being consigned to a watery tomb with nothing to
mark its resting place; and yet he does not sleep alone, for in this
mighty ocean sepulcher myriads lie buried and the waves moan above
them a requiem as sweet as that sung by the trees to those who rest
upon the land.