_RANGOON._
_Thursday, March 17th._--The government pilot came on board at 6 A.M.,
and we at once got up the anchor and proceeded under steam up the
branch of the Irrawaddy called the Rangoon River, leading to the town
of that name. Its banks are flat, low, and densely wooded. The Great
Pagoda is seen shortly after entering the mouth, and at Monkey Point
the river divides into two portions (one of which is only a creek,
while the other is the main branch, which passes Rangoon). Later on
the factories, wharves, offices, public buildings and houses of the
city become visible in quick succession.
Little more than thirty years ago Rangoon consisted of a mere swamp,
with a few mat huts mounted on wooden piles, and surrounded by a log
stockade and fosse. Now it is a city of 200,000 inhabitants, the
terminus of a railway, and almost rivals Bombay in beauty and extent.
It possesses fine palaces, public offices, and pagodas; warehouses,
schools, hospitals, lovely gardens and lakes, excellent roads, and
shady promenades.
[Illustration: Merchant Dhows, Indian Ocean]
We arrived opposite the town about half-past ten, passing through
quite a crowd of shipping, amongst which were several fine clippers
and steamers, bound to all parts of the world. The rice season is now
at its height, and everybody is working his hardest. So great is the
competition, that some merchants complain that they have made no
profit since the time of the great Indian famines of 1874 and 1877,
the only successful traders now being the owners of mills, who derive
their gains from merely crushing rice.
Early in the afternoon, Mr. Symes, Secretary to the Chief
Commissioner, came on board, bringing a kind note from Mrs.
Crossthwaite, the wife of the Chief Commissioner (who is away in
Mandalay), asking us all to go and stay at Government House during our
visit to Rangoon. We declined this proffered kindness, but accepted an
invitation to dinner. Several other visitors came on board in the
course of the afternoon, and at five o'clock we landed and went for a
drive.
Important as are the commercial aspects of the place, it is not these
which interest and arrest the attention of the stranger, but rather
what is old, quaint, and perhaps more or less effete. The appearance
of the people themselves, to begin with, is most picturesque. Nearly
all the men are naked to the waist, or wear a small white open linen
jacket, with a voluminous _putso_ wound tightly round their loins and
gathered into a great bundle or knot in front. Their long hair is
beautifully trimmed, plaited, and oiled, and their glossy locks are
protected from the sun by an oiled-silk umbrella. The women wear much
the same costume, except that the _tamieri_ which replaces the _putso_
is gayer in colour and more gracefully put on. There seems to be a
strong family likeness between our own Scotch kilts, the Malay
sarongs, the Burmese putsos and tamieris, and the Punjaubee tunghis.
They are evidently the outcome of the first effort of a savage people
to clothe themselves, and consist merely of oblong or square unmade
pieces of cloth wound round the body in a slightly differing fashion.
Some people profess to be able to recognise the Bruce and Stewart
plaids in the patterns of the sarongs. Stripes and squares are
comparatively cheap, while anything with a curved or vandyked pattern
is expensive, because for each curved or vandyked line a special
instrument, called a _loon_, must be used. Hence the probable
derivation of _langoti_, by which name the same garment is called in
India. The rain-hats are also remarkable, being sufficiently large to
enable the wearer to dispense with an umbrella, though an oiled-paper
parasol is generally carried in case of a shower.
[Illustration: Great Pagoda Court]
But it was not only the people who interested me. There were the great
pagodas, like huge hand-bells, gilded and decorated in various styles,
with curious little _htees_, or gilt crowns, at the top, ornamented
with rubies and emeralds. On the extreme summit, in the place of
honour, is almost invariably fixed an English soda-water bottle,
while the minor positions of importance are occupied by tonic-water
bottles, which are of the same shape, but of a blue colour. The still
more inferior places are crowned by dark green square-shouldered
seltzer-water bottles. It seems a curious idea that a crown, which is
not only a real work of art, but is made of rich materials, and worth
30,000_l._ sterling, after having been placed with much pomp and
ceremony on the top of the finest pagoda in Burmah (Shway Dagohu, the
gilded spire of which rises as high as St. Paul's Cathedral), should
be surmounted and surrounded by the most commonplace articles of the
conquering 'barbarian hordes.'
[Illustration: Entrance to Temple]
Presently we passed the funeral car of a Phoongyee, or Buddhist
priest--a marvellous structure, reminding one of the Juggernaut cars
of India. The funeral of a Phoongyee is always made the occasion of a
great function. The body is embalmed and placed on one of these huge
cars; and the people from the surrounding villages flock to the
ceremony, bringing cartloads of fireworks, for the manufacture of
which the Burmese are celebrated. Great rivalry arises as to which
village shall be fortunate enough, through its representative, to set
the gorgeous canopy on fire, and thereby release the good man's
departed spirit and send it straight to heaven without any further
transmigration or trouble. This happy consummation is supposed to
occur directly the large funeral pile, which is always of highly
inflammable materials, takes fire. The result is that many accidents
occur, besides a great deal of heart-burning and loss of life; for
sometimes at whole quarter of the town is set on fire and much
property destroyed in these contests.
It is the custom, when a Phoongyee of the highest rank dies, to
preserve the body in honey until the funeral car has been built, which
is generally a matter of some weeks. The body of the car is surmounted
by a sort of baldacchino, decorated with blue and green bottles and
pieces of broken glass or porcelain. When all is ready, the body,
attired in a common yellow robe (during life the robes are of silk,
satin, or velvet, or cotton, according to the priest's rank), is
placed on the car; women then seize the ropes attached to the front of
the cumbrous vehicle, and men those behind. After a prolonged
struggle, supposed to typify the conflict between good and evil
spirits, the women gain the day, and the car proceeds on its way to
the funeral pile, upon which the body is placed, and which is finally
set on fire by huge rockets.
[Illustration: Dagon]
The avenue leading to the Shway Dagohu Pagoda is guarded at the
entrance by two enormous statues of _bylus_, or monsters, erected to
propitiate the evil spirits; _bylus_ and _nats_ being to the Burmese
very much what demons and devils are to us. The view of the pagoda
from the avenue is indeed wonderful. The great gilt dome, with its
brilliant golden _htee_, grows and grows and increases upon the
vision, until its enormous bulk is at last fully realised. Fancy a
vast bell-shaped erection, with a pointed handle of solid gold, rising
to nearly the height of the cross on the top of St. Paul's, surrounded
by numerous smaller pagodas and dagolas, bell-temples, tombs, and
rest-houses, some much dilapidated--it being considered more
meritorious to build a new temple than to repair an old one. Shway
Dagohu itself stands on a planted terrace, raised upon a rocky
platform, and approached by a hundred steps. A writer of about forty
years ago says:
'The golden temple of the idol may challenge competition, in point of
beauty, with any other of its class in India. It is composed of
teak-wood on a solid brick foundation, and indefatigable pains are
displayed in the profusion of rich carved work which adorns it. The
whole is one mass of the richest gilding, with the exception of the
three roofs, which have a silvery appearance. A plank of a deep red
colour separates the gold and silver, with the happy effect of
relieving them.
'All round the principal pagoda are smaller temples, richly gilt and
furnished with images of Gautama, whose unmeaning smile meets you in
every direction, the sight of which, accompanied by the constant
tinkling of the innumerable bells hung on the top of each pagoda,
combines with the stillness and deserted appearance of the place to
produce an impression on the mind not speedily to be effaced.' Close
by live a hundred and fifty families, called 'slaves of the pagoda,'
to whose care the edifice is entrusted.
[Illustration: Rangoon Boat, Stern]
[Illustration: Rangoon Boat, Stem]
On the walls of one of the rest-houses were some well-drawn frescoes
illustrating incidents in the life of Gautama, and statues of all
dimensions, from the size of one's hand to something quite colossal.
These figures are always represented in one of three positions--either
standing, sitting, or lying--the features of each wearing exactly the
same amiable but vacant expression, and the hands and feet being
invariably turned in the same direction. The carvings over the porch
of the principal temple outside the strongly fortified pagoda
represent its storming and capture by the English, under General
Godwin, in 1852. The naval officers who are depicted carry telescopes
of somewhat inconvenient length for practical purposes; but the
uniforms of the bluejackets, soldiers, and marines are fairly correct,
and all the figures are carved with great spirit.
The pagoda is supposed to have been commenced 588 years B.C., in order
to enshrine some hairs of Buddha and the bathing-gown of another holy
man who lived two thousand years before him. The building was enlarged
from time to time (especially when eight hairs from Gautama's beard
were added to the sacred collection), and is now a solid mass of
bricks, arranged in rows of steps, with three shrines to hold the
precious relics, erected at various heights. The carved teak with
which it is covered is solidly gilt from top to bottom, and this
process costs 30,000_l._ each time it is repeated. The new _htee_ was
sent down from Mandalay in 1882, and was received with the greatest
pomp and ceremony by all the officials, both European and Burmese.
To wander round the top platform or courtyard outside the pagoda in
the twilight and listen to the bells was an extraordinary experience
for all of us. The big Burmese bells are celebrated for their tone,
especially those in the temples. The smaller bells are also good, as
are the triangular gongs, called, from their shape, stirrup-gongs. The
little bells which are hung on the _htees_ at the tops of the various
pinnacles surrounding the soda-water bottles have long clappers,
easily moved by the wind; and the sound of these various bells and
gongs borne on the evening breeze is harmonious in the extreme.
The King of Siam has constructed a fine rest-house just outside the
gates, for the use of the people of his nation, the pagoda itself
being open to all peoples, kingdoms, and races. A private individual
also built a magnificent wooden rest-house, at the cost of a lac of
rupees, just before Lord Ripon visited Rangoon. This virtuous act was
supposed to assure him on his death immediate _nirvana_, or transition
to Paradise without undergoing the process of transmigration or the
ordeal of Purgatory. As a mark of loyalty and admiration, the founder
transferred not only the rest-house, but all the eternal privileges
which he had gained by building it, to His Excellency, in recognition
of his endeavours to gain for the natives of India a larger amount of
liberty and greater privileges.
[Illustration: Moulmein]
Mr. Hodgkinson, the assistant Commissioner, met us at the pagoda, and
told us all he knew about it in the most interesting way. The drive
back to Rangoon through the Dalhousie Park and Gardens, once the
appanage of a royal palace, was perfectly delightful. It was rather
late, and there was consequently a great rush to dress on board and
get back to shore in time to dine with Mrs. Crossthwaite at Government
House, three miles from the landing-place. It is a large roomy
bungalow with a big verandah, surrounded by trees. Mrs. Crossthwaite,
her daughter, Mr. Hodgkinson, Mr. Symes, Tom, Mabelle, Mr. des Graz,
and myself formed the party. We had a very pleasant evening, but our
long and tiring day made at least one of the guests glad to get on
board and go to bed.
[Illustration: Elephants at Work]
_Friday, March 18th._--Left the yacht about seven o'clock. Mr.
Hodgkinson took us to see a timber-yard, where elephants are
extensively used. It was a wonderful exhibition of strength, patience,
and dexterity. The docile creatures lift, roll, and push the logs of
timber to any part of the yard. They pile it up into stacks high above
their heads, seizing one end of a log with their trunk, placing it on
the pile of timber, and then taking the other end of the log and
pushing it forward, finally placing it on their heads, and sending it
into its place. They work undisturbed amid the buzz of circular saws
and machinery, where it would seem almost impossible for animals of
such huge proportions to escape injury. They carry their intelligence
to the point of rigidly enforcing the rights of labour. Nothing will
persuade an elephant to do a stroke of work, after he has heard the
workmen's dinner-bell, during the hour of midday rest to which he
rightly considers himself entitled. Their mental powers seem, indeed,
to be very nearly on a level with those of the human workmen, with
whose efforts their own are combined. No less than two thousand
elephants were formerly employed in the yard of the Bombay and Burmah
Company. Steam machinery is now rapidly superseding elephants, for
each animal requires at least three men to look after him.
[Illustration: Elephants at Work]
We quitted the Bombay and Burmah Trading Company's teak-yard, most
grateful to Mr. Jones, the manager, for his kind reception. Then our
party divided, some going to see the pagoda, and others to see the
rice-mills. At this season of the year the mill-hands are at work
night and day, while from November to February the mills are as a rule
closed. In the establishment which we visited a hundred tons of rice
are turned out every twelve hours, several processes having to be gone
through before the 'paddy' is converted into 'white rice' of the first
quality.
While rice is the main element in the trade of Rangoon, teak is the
principal article at Moulmein. The finest teak forests are to be found
in Northern Burmah. The tree does not flourish south of the 16th
degree of latitude.
[Illustration: Moulmein River Boat]
Returned on board to breakfast, to which Dr. and Mrs. Pedley came.
Busy morning with letters and callers. Among the latter were Lord and
Lady Stafford, on their way to join the 'Kilwa,' in which they proceed
to Moulmein and Singapore. Captain Fanshawe also called, and Mr. Symes
and Mr. Hodgkinson came to lunch. Some Burmese curiosity-vendors paid
us a visit in the afternoon, and we made some purchases, chiefly of
silver and gongs. Posted our budget of letters and sent off telegrams
in the evening, and sailed from Rangoon at 11 P.M.
[Illustration: On the Irrawaddy]
[Illustration: MOULMEIN, FROM THE RIVER]
_Saturday, March 19th._--Arrived off the Salwen River about 1 P.M.,
but found that the tide did not suit for going up to Moulmein. We
therefore had to anchor until the next morning. Coast pretty,
undulating, and covered with jungle. At five o'clock we landed and
went to the water pagoda at Point Amherst--a curious wooden structure,
held sacred by the Buddhists. Pilgrimages are annually made to this
spot from all parts of Burmah and Siam, and are the occasion of vast
gatherings of people, who live and sleep entirely in the open air.
There is a small native village close by, and also a post-office,
telegraph-office, and pilot station; while in the neighbourhood are
many of the summer-dwellings of the Rangoon and Moulmein merchants.
_Sunday, March 20th._--Steam up early. At 10 A.M. we started to ascend
the river to Moulmein. Passed the 'Kilwa' coming down, and arrived
about one o'clock. Moulmein is admirably situated on a range of
hills, rising to a considerable elevation on the left bank of the
Salwen. The town is embosomed in trees, and pagodas and shrines occupy
every prominent position. The population consists largely of
foreigners, Chinese and Hindoos forming a large proportion of the
aggregate number of 50,000. The navigation from the sea to Moulmein up
the Salwen is far more difficult than the passage up to Rangoon. The
Salwen is one of the great rivers of Asia. Its upper waters have never
yet been reached by European travellers. About half-past four we
landed and drove up to Salwen Lodge, where we had tea with Colonel and
Mrs. Plant. Afterwards to church, which was very hot and full of
mosquitoes.
_Monday, March 21st._--Landed early, and went to see the jail and
another timber-yard where elephants are employed. At the jail a good
deal of wood-carving is done, in addition to basket-making and
carpentering. Returned to the yacht to breakfast, and received more
visitors, including Mr. Menhenaick, the English clergyman here.
Colonel and Mrs. Plant came to tea, and we afterwards landed and went
to a lawn-tennis party and to dinner at Salwen Lodge.
_Tuesday, March 22nd._--Started very early to see the caves, about
eight miles from Moulmein. The smaller of the two contains a large
number of sacred images, while the other is of vast dimensions. These
caves are situated in a sort of cliff, rising abruptly from the plain.
The lighting had been specially arranged for us by the kindness of
Captain Dodd.
A large portion of Burmah is still uninhabited. Much larger in area,
it has not one-fifth of the population of France. But the increase is
immensely rapid. Between 1871 and 1881 it was at the rate of 34 per
cent.
The inferiority of Burmah in respect of population, notwithstanding
the superior fertility of the soil, is to be traced to the physical
geography of the country. The great rivers of India flow east or west.
The great rivers of the Burmese peninsula flow from north to south.
The population of India could readily expand without material change
of climate. In Cochin China navigation down the valleys of the great
rivers involves changes of temperature and habit such as human nature
is not generally able to endure.
[Illustration: Entrance to Moulmein Caves]
At an early hour we found the deck, as usual when we are about to
leave a port, cumbered by an inconvenient crowd of unwelcome visitors,
consisting in the present instance of dhobis, gharry-wallahs, hotel
people, and loafers and idlers generally, all of whom we at once
proceeded to get rid of as soon as possible. Among the authorised
visitors were the servants of some of our friends on shore, who had
kindly sent us parting presents of fruit, jams, curries, curios, and
the most lovely orchids, the latter in such profusion that they were
suspended all along the boom, causing the quarter-deck to look more
like one of Mr. Bull's orchid exhibitions than part of a vessel. We
photographed some of them with great success, and with our gods from
the caves in the background, they will make an effective picture.
[Illustration: Ferry at Morcenatin]
The clothes from the wash had arrived on board, for a wonder, though
the much-needed ice had not. It was, however, impossible to wait for
it, and accordingly at 12.45 we got up the port-anchor, and at 1.30
the starboard-anchor, and proceeded down the river, taking several
instantaneous photographs _en route_. About four o'clock we met the
'Rangoon' coming up. She is a powerful paddle-wheel steamer, carrying
the mails, and doing the distance of 110 miles between Rangoon and
Moulmein, or _vice versa_, in all states of the tide--which sometimes
runs seven knots--in eleven hours. Her decks were crowded with
passengers, mostly natives. In the bows was a group of Phoongyees in
their yellow robes.
The pilot-boat met us at Point Amherst, with Tab on board, bringing
more fruit and orchids. He had arrived at Rangoon on the 20th, and had
left there this morning, after having had a real good time of it with
Colonel Euan Smith and the Manchester Regiment, his only regret being
that he had not killed a tiger. We waved adieux to the skipper,
pointed the yacht's head to the southward, made sail, and, as soon as
it was cool enough, lowered the funnel and set the mainsail.
_Wednesday, March 23rd._--A pleasant but very shy breeze, which
frequently obliged us to tack. At noon we had made good 60 miles under
steam, and 40 under sail, Singapore being distant 1,050 miles. Lat.
15 deg. 33' N.; long. 97 deg. 13' E.
_Thursday, March 24th._--The twelfth anniversary of Baby's birthday.
She was delighted with the presents which had already been collected
for her at various places, and with the promise of others.
A hot calm day. We had run 101 miles since noon yesterday, and were in
lat. 14 deg. 32' N.; long. 97 deg. 27' E. At 3 P.M. we raised the funnel, and
at 4 began to steam.
In the evening we had our second nautical entertainment in honour of
the day. Muriel's 'first appearance' as 'Little Buttercup,' in the
old-fashioned costume of a Portsmouth bumboat woman, consisting of a
blue gown, red shawl, and bonnet of antique shape, was greeted with
vociferous applause, and it was only out of deference to her feelings
of mingled modesty and fatigue (for it was _very_ hot and airless
below in the crowded 'assembly room') that her song was not
rapturously encored. The evening's entertainment was brought to a
close in the orthodox manner by the drinking of healths and the
expression of good wishes for all friends, absent or present.
_Friday, March 25th._--A fine breeze sprang up at 1 A.M. At 7.30 we
ceased steaming, and at 10 A.M. lowered the funnel. At noon we had
run 138 miles under steam and 32 under sail, Singapore being 837 miles
distant. Position, lat. 11 deg. 41' N.; long. 97 deg. 14' E.
We saw the Moscos group of islands yesterday evening, and early this
morning sighted the North, Middle, and South islands. It is here that
the finest, though not the largest, edible birds'-nests are found; but
the nests are built by a bird of quite a different species from that
of Borneo.
[Illustration: Point Amherst, Water Temple]
_Saturday, March 26th._--Early this morning we passed Tenasserim.
During the day we were continually sighting various little islands, as
well as high mountain-peaks belonging to the more distant mainland. At
noon we had run 160 miles, and our position was lat. 9 deg. 17' N.; long.
97 deg. 0' E., Singapore being still 687 miles distant.
[Illustration: Bound South]
The day proved intensely hot and steamy, with scarcely any air, though
the thermometer was not so high as one would have fancied. Thankful we
all were when, after some little delay, caused by the difficulty of
obtaining sufficient draught in the furnaces, we were able at four
o'clock to steam ahead and so create a breeze for ourselves. Lightning
flashed and gleamed on all sides, and the air felt sulphurous and
suffocatingly oppressive. At 7.45 P.M. we were overtaken by a heavy
squall of wind, accompanied by thunder, lightning, and rain, which
obliged us to close all ports and skylights. Fortunately the storm did
not last long, though the weather continued showery all night.
_Sunday, March 27th._--The day broke dull, cloudy, and squally, and so
continued. At noon we had run 139 miles under steam and 11 under
sail, Singapore being 537 miles distant. Position by dead
reckoning--no observations being possible--lat. 7 deg. 5' N.; long. 98 deg.
16' E.
In the afternoon we made the Butan Islands. The evening looked dull,
but the sky was occasionally lighted up by flashes of the most
brilliant lightning. The sea was so full of phosphorescence that when
Baby and I had our ante-prandial 'hose' our bathing-dresses glistened
beautifully. I felt rather unwell all day, and not being able to go
down to afternoon prayers, listened to them from the deck.
_Monday, March 28th._--Another squally day, with a good deal of rain
and a fresh head-wind. It was delightful on deck, but very hot below.
At noon we had run 170 miles under steam, and were only 350 miles from
Singapore. A good deal more lightning at night, and a great deal of
phosphorescence; also a very bad-looking, nearly new moon--flat on her
back and surrounded by a big halo. I saw a moon at Tangiers with a
similar appearance last year, just before the terrible cyclone at
Madrid.
To-day we were to the north of Acheen Head and Brasse Island, but too
far off to see the land. Scarcely any Cape in the world is sighted by
so many vessels and touched at by so few as Acheen Head. Lord Reay
warned us most strongly against approaching it too closely in our
comparatively defenceless condition, on account of the piratical
character of the inhabitants.
_Tuesday, March 29th._--I had a good night in the cool deck-house, and
woke refreshed. I have been rather overworked lately, and am
consequently beginning to sleep badly and lose my appetite.
At noon we were in lat. 2 deg. 55' N.; long. 101 deg. 28' E. The run proved to
be 188 miles under steam, and left us 175 miles from Singapore.
[Illustration: SINGAPORE, ENTRANCE TO HARBOUR]
We could now see the high land near Sabagore, and in the afternoon
found ourselves off Cape Rachada, a pretty little place with tall
trees nearly to the water's edge, and a long line of snowy white beach
with a background of blue mountains.
_Wednesday, March 30th._--At daybreak we were off Pulo Pisang, and
shortly afterwards the pilot came on board--an unintelligible and
unintelligent sort of man, who could not tell us anything, and who had
great difficulty in understanding what we said. He brought us,
however, the latest papers.
At 7.30 A.M. the P. & O. steamer 'Bokhara,' from London, passed, and
we asked her to report us as following her closely. The morning was
brilliant, and the lights and shadows over the city of Singapore made
it look even prettier than when I last saw it. As we had to coal, we
proceeded right through the new harbour, and moored alongside Tanjong
Pagar. Tab landed to make arrangements at the hospital for the
reception of the Doctor, who was to remain there during our stay at
Singapore, and soon returned with a very favourable report of the
establishment. Dr. Simon, who was chief of the hospital at Malacca
when we were there in 1867, now occupies a similar post here.
We had not been long at the coaling-wharf when our old friend the
Sultan of Johore drove down and came on board. He was delighted to see
us, though surprised at our sudden appearance, for he had been on the
look-out for two or three days, and had sent two steamers out to meet
us, which we had missed by taking another channel. The Sultan was
profuse in his offers of hospitality, and wanted us to stay a week or
two with him and to make all sorts of interesting excursions up the
river in his new steam-yacht. This was impossible: but we promised to
go to tea with him at his town house in Singapore to-night, and to
visit him at his palace at Johore to-morrow.
[Illustration: Traveller's Palm, Singapore]
We had many visitors in the morning, including one or two friends who
had just arrived by the 'Bokhara.' In the afternoon the Doctor landed
to go to the hospital, and later on we went on board the 'Bokhara,'
and then landed and drove in the Sultan's carriages to the hospital,
where, after some delay and difficulty, we found the doctor
established in a comfortable room. Afterwards we took a long
drive--very much longer than we had expected--through the prettiest
part of Singapore. A steep climb up a hill and through a pretty garden
brought us at last to the Sultan's town-house, which is full of lovely
things, especially those brought from Japan. Such delightfully hideous
monsters in bronze and gold, such splendid models, magnificent
embroideries, matchless china, rare carvings, elaborate tables and
cabinets, are seldom found collected together in one house. After a
long examination of all these pretty things, Tom arrived, and then we
had to show them to him all over again. By this time we were quite
ready for tea served in the verandah, with all sorts of nice fruits
and cakes. Altogether it was a charming little entertainment, and we
regretted having so soon to return to the hotel, where a numerous
company assembled at dinner in the large saloon and verandah. The
drive down afterwards to the pier in jinrikishas proved delightful to
the children.
_Thursday, March 31st._--Hove the anchor up at 1.30 P.M. and proceeded
under steam, with pilot on board, through the Straits of Johore to the
Sultan's palace, where we dined and slept.
_Friday, April 1st._--An early drive, and a walk through the charming
gardens which surround the palace, occupied the first part of the
morning very agreeably, and later we returned to the yacht to receive
a number of visitors. At 11.30 we got under way, and, with the Sultan
on board, steamed through the Straits of Singapore.
_Saturday, April 2nd._--Weighed anchor between 1 and 2 A.M. and
proceeded under steam towards Borneo. Mr. Crocker, the recently
appointed Governor of North Borneo, who was on board, gave us much
interesting and valuable information during the voyage about the new
colony which has been formed by the British North Borneo Company.
It was a very hot day, but we were all busily occupied in tidying up
and settling down again after our short but pleasant run on shore.
At noon we were in lat. 1 deg. 26' N., long. 105 deg. 39' E., having run 105
miles. At 4 P.M. we made Victory and Barren Islands, passing close to
them later in the evening.
We were talking to-day of the St. John Ambulance Association, and as
an illustration of what a useful institution it would be in these
parts, Mr. Crocker spoke of the case of an unfortunate man who had
broken, or rather smashed, his arm so badly as to make it evident
that his only chance of life lay in removing the shattered limb. There
was no doctor near, nor anyone who knew anything of surgery. Somebody
had, however, fortunately seen a surgical book at Government House.
This was brought, and one man read aloud from it, while the other did
his best to follow the instructions, and with the aid of an ordinary
knife and saw, cut off the arm. The wound healed in a marvellous
manner, and the man is now alive and well.
Such an incident is happily quite exceptional. Indeed, it is almost
impossible to imagine the combination of courage, determination, and
endurance which must have been required on both sides. But minor
accidents are of frequent occurrence in these wild regions, and a
knowledge of how to render first aid in such cases would often be of
invaluable service.
[Illustration: Junks, Singapore]
We had an 'Ambulance' case on board to-night, for a vein burst
suddenly in the Doctor's leg. Fortunately Pratt was close at hand, and
with ice and ligatures checked the haemorrhage. Without his prompt
help the consequences might have been serious.
_Sunday, April 3rd._--At 6 A.M. sighted St. Pierre. The wind was fair
and light, but it did not seem to temper the intense heat. At noon we
were exactly under the sun, and were therefore all as shadowless as
Peter Schlemihl. Despite the heat we had the Litany at half-past
eleven, and evening-service at half-past six. At 10 P.M. we anchored
off Tanjong Pulo, at the mouth of the river Kuching, on which stands
Kuching itself, the capital of Sarawak.
Tom feels the heat greatly, and has been unwell for the last day or
two. To-night I had an anxious time looking after him, and could get
no help from the Doctor, who was himself ill and delirious.
_Monday, April 4th._--The anchor was hove at 6.30 A.M., and we
proceeded towards the entrance to the river, meeting several natives
in fishing-boats, who told us that Rajah Brooke was away at Labuan in
his steam-yacht the 'Aline.' We therefore hesitated about going up the
river, especially without a pilot; but it seemed a pity to be so near
and to miss the opportunity of seeing Kuching. So off we went up the
narrow muddy stream, guided only by the curious direction-boards fixed
at intervals on posts in the water, or hung from trees on the banks.
[Illustration: Navigation Boards, River Kuching]
This plan of making every man his own pilot seems both sensible and
useful; but the general effect of the notice-boards was not
picturesque. The wording of some of the notices was brief and
practical, though such a caution as 'Hug this close on the outside,'
painted in large letters on a board at the water's edge, had a certain
quaintness about it which amused us. We ascended the river at
half-tide, when the channel is pretty clearly apparent; but at high
tide the way must be difficult to find. The scenery was somewhat
monotonous until we approached Kuching, but we were assured that
further inland, towards the mountains, it becomes really beautiful.
The town itself seemed a busy little place, and there were two
steamers lying alongside the wharf. Our arrival, without a pilot,
caused much surprise, especially as we had not been expected until a
day or two later. In fact, a pilot was just starting for the mouth of
the river to look out for us. The 'Lorna Doone,' a small steamer, had
also been despatched to Labuan to let the Rajah know that we were
coming. After reaching our destination we found great difficulty in
turning round, owing to the narrowness of the river. The heat was
fearful, and the sun poured down through the double awnings with an
intensity which must be felt to be understood. We were rather afraid
of both the fever and the mosquitoes, and as neither the Rajah nor
Ranee was at Kuching, we decided to drop down the river again with the
afternoon tide.
After a short delay we landed with Mr. Maxwell at some neat little
steps close to the jail, where there appeared to be but few prisoners.
The public offices and buildings of Kuching seem to be particularly
suitable for this hot climate. Not far off is the market, with nothing
left for sale in it except a few vegetables and pines, the meat and
fruit markets being over for the day, and the fish--the staple
commodity of the place--not having yet come in. At high tide the
prahus which we had seen waiting at the mouth of the river would sail
swiftly up, bringing the result of their morning's work, the crew of
each eager to be first and so to command the best prices.
Most of these prahus are propelled by two, three, and four, or even
eight, paddles; and one which we saw had twenty. The larger ones only
come out as a rule for warlike purposes or on high days and holidays,
especially on New Year's Day, which is a great festival in Borneo,
when five hundred warriors frequently compete in one race. It must be
wonderful to see their paddles flashing, their boats dashing through
the water, and to hear their wild shouts and war-cries. If only we
could have stayed, a race would have been got up for our edification,
although most of the warriors are out on the war-path just now,
looking after stray jobs in their line, arising from the difficulties
between the Sultan of Brunei and the Kadyans.
A long narrow room over the market is used as the museum at Kuching,
and after climbing up by a steep ladder we came to a trapdoor, of
which the key could not be found for some time. The collection is
interesting, and gives a good idea of the manners and customs of the
Dyaks. It comprises specimens of their household utensils, weapons,
dress, matwork, besides models of their dwellings and canoes. Some of
the basketwork was cleverly woven in beautiful patterns, marked out
and dyed with the juice of coloured berries and seaweed. The
head-flatteners, or boards used by the Milanos to alter the natural
shape of their infants' heads, specially attracted our attention, and
I felt it difficult to decide whether the invention aimed at
increasing the child's beauty or its brains.
[Illustration: Fire-tube]
[Illustration: SARAWAK, BORNEO: OPPOSITE THE RAJAH'S FORT]
We were shown one of the ingenious air-compressing tubes which have
been used by the natives for hundreds of years past to produce fire.
It seemed to afford a proof of the truth of the old adage that there
is nothing new under the sun. Professor Faraday alluded in one of his
lectures to the possibility of producing fire by means of compressed
air as a discovery of comparatively modern science; whereas the fact
has long been recognised and put to practical use in these obscure
regions of the earth. The war-jackets were made of birds' feathers
and wild beasts' skins, or of the barks of trees. Sometimes these
garments were liberally decorated with small bells, cowries, and
pieces of metal cut from old petroleum and preserved meat tins, which
jingle and rattle as the wearer moves. Others were like chain-armour,
of which the strips were fastened together by bits of hide or leather.
The shields seemed of all sorts of shapes and sizes, some long and
narrow, some circular, and some large enough to cover a man
completely, and they were nearly all ornamented with tufts of black,
silky, human hair. The kreises and parongs were similarly decorated,
as well as with fine horsehair dyed bright scarlet, and streaked with
white. Some of the weapons had splendidly carved handles and very fine
bead-decorations, and many of the blades were inlaid with gold and
silver. Sulu and Brunei have for centuries been celebrated for their
arms, specially for their steel and damascene-worked armour, as well
as for their bronze guns. The latter are used as current coin by the
native tribes in their more important transactions. If a slave be
bought or sold, or a quantity of rice, sago, or beans changes hands,
the value is almost always reckoned in bronze guns. Grey-shirtings, a
more convenient form of money for small dealings, have now gone out of
fashion, but blue cloth still holds its own. Chinese 'cash' and
Spanish dollars are in circulation, but the natives will not look at a
'bit,' nor at any other sort of coin, either gold or silver. The metal
which the natives prefer for their guns is composed of Chinese cash
melted up, and for their swords they use the iron bands by which
cotton bales are kept together. Outside the Government buildings stand
some beautiful and curious cannon, of moderate calibre. Some came from
Brunei, while others had only just been captured on the Barram and
Leyun rivers, during the Rajah's expedition, and were just being
cleaned up and placed in position. The carving and modelling of many
of them were extremely good.
[Illustration: Dyak]
The Rajah's carriage, a neat waggonette and pair, driven by an English
coachman, was waiting to take us to Mr. Maxwell's house, where we were
to lunch. We drove along excellent roads, passing a church,
school-house, and club, to a very pretty bungalow, standing in a
pretty garden, and perched on the summit of a hill. The air felt much
cooler here than in the town or on the river, and gave us excellent
appetites for a nice impromptu little lunch. One delicacy consisted of
fresh turtles' eggs, which I am afraid we did not all appreciate, for
they tasted like ordinary eggs mixed with coarse sand. They are quite
round, about the size of a small orange, with soft white leather, or
rather parchment-like shells, and are found in great abundance on an
island near Kuching. The natives make a coarse oil from the inferior
eggs.
The walls of the dining-room were covered with shields, kreises,
spears, and arms of all kinds, collected by Mr. Maxwell himself. In
some of them mason-bees were making or had already made their nests!
No wonder Mrs. Maxwell complained bitterly of the mischief they did,
and of the ravages of white ants, which are even more destructive.
The dampness of the climate, moreover, makes it necessary to have the
contents of wardrobes and bookcases frequently taken out and shaken,
turned, and examined.
We drove down to the river, intending to take boat and cross to the
island and fort, but were only just in time to rush into the
Government offices and so escape a terrible thunderstorm accompanied
by torrents of rain. In this shelter we had to stay until it was time
to embark on board the 'Adeh,' in which we were to go down the river.
In the meantime the rest of our party had been lunching at the fort,
where they had much enjoyed the view from the heights--a sight which I
rather envied them. Presently we saw them come down in the pouring
rain, get into the Rajah's ten-paddled boat, and set off to join us.
We were all drenched by the time we got on board the 'Adeh.' Here we
were joined by Major and Mrs. Day, as well as by two Dyak soldiers in
full war-costume, in readiness to be sketched or photographed.
Shortly after starting the strong current caught our bow and carried
us into the bank, causing us to collide with and considerably damage
two schooners, as well as the balcony of one of the numerous wooden
houses standing on piles in the river. The bowsprit of one of the
schooners was completely interlaced with the stanchions, ropes, and
railings of our gangway, and it must have been a good stick not to
snap off short. The tide was now much higher than when we came up, but
the temperature had been considerably lowered by the thunderstorm, and
was still further reduced by the rain, which continued to fall
throughout the afternoon, making photography well-nigh impossible. The
Dyaks seemed at first rather frightened by the camera, which they
called 'the engine;' but they were very civil and obliging, and
assumed all sorts of attitudes, warlike and otherwise, for our
edification. Their scanty clothing was elaborately ornamented with
bead-work and embroidery, and the little mats which they carry to sit
down upon were made of exquisitely fine plaited grass-work. Their arms
were highly decorated with human hair of various colours, as well as
with cowries, beads, and little woven balls of Brunei work.
In due time we reached Quop, the highest point to which large vessels
can ascend from the sea. Here we quitted the 'Adeh,' and took all the
party, including the two Dyaks--who were very much astonished, and I
think rather frightened--on board the 'Sunbeam' to tea; after which we
said farewell with regret to our kind friends, and, with the 'Adeh' to
guide us over the treacherous shoals and mud-banks, steamed away,
until we were once more fairly at sea and had lost sight of our pilot
in the gathering darkness.
[Illustration: Kuching]
Tom had another bad night, fancying he had caught the fever, and that
we should all have it from going up the river. I had just persuaded
him to take a sleeping-draught, and try and get some comfortable
sleep, when I heard a tremendous noise on deck. I feared at first
that some of the men, as often happens in these out-of-the-way places,
had been treated to poisonous liquor and were now suffering from the
effects of it; but on running up to make inquiries, and, if possible,
quiet the disturbance, I was just in time to catch sight of _the_ rat,
whose presence on board has only recently been detected, scuttling off
in the bright moonlight. He must have been tempted from his lair on
the top of the deck-house by the fragrant smell of the new pineapples
from Kuching, which were hung in the port cutter, but on venturing
forth he had at once been 'spotted' by one of the men. When I arrived
on the scene the whole crew had been called, and were in hot
pursuit--I need scarcely say, with no success whatever.
[Illustration: The Fort]
_Tuesday, April 5th._--A calm, close day, with a heavy swell running
down from the China Sea, probably caused by a typhoon. Everybody most
uncomfortable. Sails and boats were several times reported, but they
turned out to be only little islands such as those of Nipa and Nibong,
or else groups of floating palms swept down by the Bruit and Barram
rivers. These two rivers and the Rajang have the unpleasant
peculiarity of washing small floating islets out to sea, which
seriously endanger navigation.
At noon we had steamed 173 miles, and were in lat. 3 deg. 38' N., long.
111 deg. 56' E., Labuan being 222 miles distant.
Tom is still unwell; but I think it is better that he should be
obliged to exert himself on deck, instead of remaining in his cabin.
[Illustration: Labuan]