THE CINQUES AND LITTLE ANDAMAN
Position of the Cinques--Anchorage--Clear Water--The Forest--Beach
Formation--Native Hut--Little Andaman--Bumila Creek--Natives--
Flies--Personal Decoration--Dress and Modesty--Coats of Mud--
_Coiffure_--Absence of Scarification--Elephantiasis--A Visit to
the Village--Peculiar Huts--Canoe--Bows and Arrows--The Return
Journey--A Slight _contretemps_--Andamanese Pig--We leave the
Andamans.
The channel that separates Rutland Island from Little Andaman is about
28 miles wide, and is everywhere less than 50 fathoms in depth. Several
small wooded islets rise above its shallow waters, leaving in the
centre, however, a clear stretch of sea--the Duncan Passage--which is
sometimes traversed by ships passing through the Archipelago.
At the northernmost group of these islets, the Cinques, we spent a day,
before visiting the coast of Little Andaman. The two islands, which are
narrow and hilly, stretch for about 6 miles in an almost N. and S.
direction, and are almost joined by a reef of rocks awash at high tide;
they are only 3 miles distant from the south-east end of Rutland Island,
and 9 miles from Macpherson Strait. We anchored between the islands, in
a little bay in the shore of the northernmost, with the reef of rocks to
the eastward.
Here, as in all such islands where there are no streams or mangrove
swamps, the water was excessively clear--so clear that we could perceive
fish swimming amongst the coral, and the anchor lying on the bottom 10
fathoms below.
The forest on the southern and western shores presents a striking
contrast to the jungle of the other islands, and bears witness to the
strength of the south-west monsoon. The slopes of the hills are scantily
covered with grass, and on the lower ground, amongst the starved and
twisted trees, numerous dead branches show white against the scanty
foliage of the other wind-warped limbs. Below, the effect is stranger
still, for the shrubs and bushes grow in rows running inland from the
beach, so that one can walk up and down between them as in the lines of
an artificial plantation.
The beach on which we landed was composed entirely of white coral sand,
and upon it we found graceful branches of a brown and white coralline
(_Isis hippurus_), and numbers of pearly-chambered spirulas. After
forcing a way through the matted foliage, we reached the more protected
parts of the island, where the jungle was of a more luxuriant
description; but animal life was very scarce everywhere, and our list of
the avifauna contains the names of ten species only.
There are no permanent inhabitants, but the Cinques are occasionally
visited by the natives (Oenges of Little Andaman and natives from Port
Blair), who probably find it a good locality for turtle and fish. We
picked up in the jungle an arrow of a kind afterwards obtained at Little
Andaman, and discovered a path that ran from south to north, where, on
the shore of a little sandy cove, stood a hut similar to those already
seen, save that sides had been added, thus making a semicircular
shelter, and a small platform of sticks erected above the fireplace. A
number of baskets hung from the roof, and for flooring, instead of palm
leaves, there was an old teak grating and some planks--flotsam, perhaps,
from a shipwrecked vessel.
At midnight a fair breeze sprang up and we made sail, crawling slowly
southward by its help, until, twelve hours later, we dropped anchor off
the coast of Little Andaman.
Eyubelong, as it is called by its inhabitants, the Oenges--a tribe, who,
by their bows, absence of scarification, and other indications, seem to
be closely akin to the Jarawas--is in shape an irregular ellipse, with
an area of rather more than 250 square miles, and a level verdure-clad
surface that rises gradually to a height of 600 feet in the interior
towards the south. It has no harbour on its coasts, but on the northern
shores two or three creeks run inland for short distances. We brought up
off the northern of these, by name Bumila, which seemed to offer a
well-protected anchorage; but when the boat was sent off with a
sounding-line to make observations, we found that coral reefs,
stretching from either side, so narrowed and complicated the entrance
that it would be a task of some difficulty to take the schooner in, and
one still more so to get her out, against the prevailing breeze. The
lead, too, at low tide, gave the greatest depth as 8 feet, and even in
the channel large coral heads rose irregularly from the bottom: it was,
therefore, decided that we should make a short stay only, and that
during it the _Terrapin_ should remain outside.
Already a group of natives had gathered on the beach, all waving bunches
of leaves, and since we had been warned that all the tribes but those at
the north end were still hostile, we concluded that this particular band
were displaying that token of friendship common to nearly all
savages--the green branch of a tree. Very soon, however, we found that
the waving leaves were for a far more practical purpose, and that the
creek thoroughly deserved its name. Bumila is S. Andamanese for "fly,"
and I don't think I ever saw so many of those pestiferous insects
together at one time. They swarmed round the natives and settled on
their naked bodies in hundreds, and no sooner had we landed than we were
assailed in so impartial a fashion that we quickly followed the example
of the inhabitants and supplied ourselves with defensive branches.
The Andamanese were quite friendly--although they are said to be
treacherous and scarcely to be trusted in the south-western portion of
the island--so, after a short survey of the creek, we returned to the
_Terrapin_, accompanied by a legion of flies, together with as many
natives as the boat would hold, and the latter were soon at work on as
hearty a meal as that made by their countrymen at Rutland Island. The
party met at Rutland Island were also Oenges and were merely visiting
Rutland Island on their way to or from Port Blair.
By the time we landed again in the afternoon, the number of waiting
natives had increased to about thirty, and they continued to arrive
until between sixty and seventy were present, of all ages and both
sexes.
One of our party, who stands some inches over 6 feet in his socks, and
is proportionately built, was a contrast to a group of natives, none of
whom were more than 5 feet in height; and nothing impressed my mind more
forcibly than this sight with the racial diminutiveness of the Negrito
race.
By way of ornament, the men rang the changes on chaplets and armlets
made from the inner bark of a tree, and necklaces and girdles of cord,
in which was twisted some bright yellow material of a straw-like nature.
Similar ornaments were worn by the women, who, in addition, wore for
dress an apron, or bunch of a fibre resembling bass, suspended in front
from the centre of the girdle. Everything but the aprons was freely
parted with, but the modesty of the women was so strong--although the
men go completely unclad--that we could not obtain them until we thought
of tendering sufficient cloth beforehand to serve as a skirt, and then,
after draping this about themselves, they were able to remove the girdle
without doing violence to their praiseworthy scruples. Both sexes wore
also about the neck a small reticule or purse, of netted twine, which
served as a hold-all, and often contained tobacco, pipes, and fruit.
Both men and women cover themselves with a thick wash of reddish clay,
which, when fresh, gives them a very striking appearance. On one of the
men thus ornamented, the coating was applied in this wise:--On the face
a circular patch extending from brow to chin, but leaving nose and lips
black; on the front and back of the body large elliptical patches,
through which, while wet, the fingers were evidently drawn, leaving
broad bands of four black stripes; the arms were covered to half-way
down the forearm, and the wash was applied to the legs from mid-thigh to
shin. Several natives, besides this simple adornment, were daubed on
head and shoulders with a greasy mixture of red pigment and fat.
The heads of both sexes were in various stages between baldness and a
covering of hair of fair thickness: they shave, however, before the
tufts reach the spiral state seen in the natives frequenting Port Blair,
and the hair is never allowed to attain any length on temples and nape.
Like those seen at Rutland Island, their bodies were free from the
tattooing or scarification so noticeable on the South Andamanese. The
man who seemed to be chief of the tribe provided the only case of
elephantiasis remarked among these islands: it occurred with him in a
very mild form--merely a slight swelling of the left leg.[11]
Having taken a series of photographs, during which operation the women
were the cause of much laughter, as they stood in a row before the
camera, we started off westwards along the beach to visit the village
and obtain more curiosities. We set a rattling pace along the hot sand,
to see what the little people could do; but when, after travelling
nearly four miles, we reached the huts they occupied, those who had
started with us were still up, although they had to break into a jog
trot now and then to keep their position. They moved with a very springy
action, and a swing of the body from the hips.
The huts stand singly, at distances of several hundred yards from each
other, just within the shade of the jungle where it comes down to the
beach, and are very different in style and construction from the
majority of those of the northern islands. They are built to the shape
of a somewhat flattened cone, about 13 feet high, and 30 feet in
diameter. On a framework of light sticks, supported by twenty or more
upright poles planted irregularly about the interior, a thick covering
of large mats is laid. The mats are made by fastening the stripped
mid-ribs of a species of fern-palm side by side with a rattan lashing
after the style of a "chick," and then securing at right angles to the
foundation thus constructed a thick layer of the pinnae of the same
plant. For doors, several of the lower mats are arranged to roll up, and
leave an opening about 4 feet square. Sleeping platforms are formed by
laying split bamboos lengthwise on a framework, measuring about 5 feet
by 4 feet, which is raised above the ground on legs 6 to 18 inches high.
Each hut contains a number of such bed-places, and beside each of them
were the ashes of a small fire.[12]
[Illustration: Little Andaman Canoe.]
Near the hut lay a nearly completed dug-out canoe (of the wood of
_Sterculia campanulata_), about 28 feet long by 3 feet wide and deep, of
the usual Andamanese form, with sawed-off ends, and projecting platforms
at bow and stern, forming convenient places to stand on when spearing
turtle and fish. The sides were left about 1-1/4 inches thick; and
although the canoe was constructed from soft wood, even now, when they
possess a few iron tools, such as small axes and files, the work must be
one of painful slowness.[13]
Their bows and arrows were like those from Rutland Island: many of the
former, however, were only 5 feet in length, while of the latter some,
in addition to the hardwood tip, had a bent nail lashed on in such a way
as to form both point and barb, and the butts of all were left smooth.
By the time we had finished at the encampment, night was drawing near,
but fifteen or twenty men accompanied us when returning. In the growing
darkness the journey back was far from easy: now we were ploughing
through loose sand and climbing over fallen trees, now dodging among
mangrove roots, or splashing thigh-deep through the water, which had
risen with the incoming tide. In such circumstances the natives showed
their superiority to ourselves by their agility in making a way amongst
roots and fallen trees, and by either their better eyesight in the dark
or familiarity with the path. Evidently they had come with the intention
of accompanying us on board; for when the boat was reached, all got into
it, and we had some trouble in persuading them to leave. The coral
bottom at the anchorage was very bad holding-ground, and had it come on
to blow, we might have been compelled to put to sea, in which case we
did not wish to return. The natives were perfectly harmless, as they had
no weapons; but we had no desire to leave an unpleasant impression for
the benefit of future visitors, so had recourse to gentle measures only.
All, however, clung to the sides and thwarts of the boat, and gave vent
to a chorus of refusal, "Nai, nai," and the childish behaviour
continued, until one, more hardly pressed than the others, jumped
overboard with a yell of rage, when the rest immediately followed suit.
We then found that a rowlock had been carried off; but when we turned
towards the shore with the momentary idea of recovering it, the natives
all disappeared into the jungle, so we rowed off with three oars, and
reached the schooner about 7.30 P.M.
Next morning, on landing to shoot, we found the little _contretemps_ of
the night before entirely ignored, for a party of natives was waiting
for us at the creek.
Although, probably, not collected on before, the island, during the few
hours we spent on it, produced nothing fresh in the way of birds.
Abbott, however, bagged the pig peculiar to the group (_Sus
andamanensis_), which, like the human inhabitants, is diminutive in
stature. Our specimen, although a full-grown boar, stood only 20 inches
high at the shoulder, and was just double that in length of head and
body. He was skinned on the spot, and the carcase, together with a
viviparous shark we had caught during the night, and a quantity of red
cotton, we presented to the natives as a parting gift, and then, shaking
hands with them all round, we said farewell to the Andamans and put to
sea.
[Illustration: "Scare-devil," or device for exorcising evil spirits.]