WANDERINGS IN THE ORIENT
BY
ALBERT M. REESE
WITH SIXTY-SIX ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
CHICAGO LONDON
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
1919
COPYRIGHT BY
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
1919
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS.
Foreword 5
I. Life in a Philippine Village 7
II. A Visit to Tay Tay 18
III. The Leper Colony of Culion 24
IV. From Zamboanga to Singapore 29
V. Singapore, the Melting Pot of the East 42
VI. How Rubber Is Made 53
VII. Two Chinese Cities 58
VIII. Meanderings in Modern Manila 69
IX. A Pacific Paradise, Honolulu 77
FOREWORD.
To most Americans, "going abroad" means visiting Europe. Since European
travel will doubtless be unsatisfactory for some years to come, the
globetrotter may well turn his attention to the Far East which, while
not so accessible, is after all easily reached if the cost be not
prohibitive; and the ubiquitous Cook is nearly always on hand to help
the traveler out of difficulties.
The trip across the Pacific is of course a long one, but the journey is
interrupted, before the end of the first week, by a stop at that
tropical paradise, the Hawaiian Islands.
If one should need a complete rest, this seven thousand mile voyage is
just the thing. If he desire he may read or study to good advantage. If
inclined to sea-sickness there is plenty of time to recover and still
enjoy the greater part of the journey. While the distances between
stopping places are often great one feels that he can "do" a place in
much less time than it would take in Europe, where objects of historic
and other interest are so crowded together. If interested in the work of
foreign missions abundant opportunity offers for their study at first
hand.
It was chiefly during these journeys between stopping places that the
following sketches were written, as a sort of diary or log, illustrated
by photographs taken by the writer.
On a beautiful morning in May the U. S. Army Transport "Sherman," after
a voyage of twenty-eight days from San Francisco, tied up at the dock in
Manila. The regular lines make the trip in much less time than the
leisurely transports, but the writer, as a representative of the
Smithsonian Institution, was furnished passage on the government vessel.
With Manila as headquarters, collecting trips were made to various
regions roundabout. Some of these places are described in the following
chapters.
Finally, upon one of the inter-island transports, a trip to the
southernmost islands of the Philippine group was made, ending at
Zamboanga, where the North German Lloyd steamer was taken for Singapore,
via Borneo. From Singapore a four days' trip, without stop, brought us
to Hongkong; whence, after seeing that place and the nearby city of
Canton, a two days' trip brought us again to Manila. It is the various
places visited in this more or less out-of-the-way circuit that are
described in the remaining chapters.
A. M. R.
MORGANTOWN, W. VA.
I. LIFE IN A PHILIPPINE VILLAGE.
The little village or _barrio_ of Mariveles is situated just inside the
narrow cape that forms the northern border of the entrance to Manila
Bay. The city of Manila lies out of sight, thirty miles to the
southeast, but the island of Corregidor lies only seven miles to the
south, and the great searchlights at night are quite dazzling when
turned directly upon the village. A large amount of money has recently
been spent in fortifying Corregidor until it is now considered
practically impregnable.
The village extends for about half a mile close along the beach and is
flanked, on the west, by the buildings of a United States quarantine
station.
Arriving by a very dilapidated launch from Manila I waited at the
government dock while the native boy I had brought with me went to the
village to find, if possible, a vacant house. He soon returned, with
another boy to help carry our baggage, (there was not a cart or wagon of
any sort in the place) and with the information that he had engaged a
house for our use. A whole house for two people sounded rather
formidable but as this house contained only two rooms its rental was not
as extravagant as might have been imagined. It was located on the main
thoroughfare which had the very American name of Washington Street. Like
the typical native house, our Washington Street mansion was built
chiefly of bamboo and _nipa_ palm, with a few heavier timbers in the
framework. Upon the main timbers of the frame was built a sort of
lattice of split bamboo, upon which in turn was sewed, shinglewise,
close layers of nipa palm that are quite impervious to rain, are fairly
durable, and are very inflammable. The _people's_ floor was elevated
four or five feet above the ground, thereby securing not only air and
dryness for the people above, but also providing a very convenient
chicken-coop and pig-pen beneath. The floor was made of split bamboo
which made sweeping easy--merely a matter of pushing the dirt
through the cracks between the strips of bamboo.
[Illustration: MARIVELES VILLAGE AND MOUNTAIN, FROM MANILA BAY.]
Although the smell of even a _clean_ pig under the dining-room table is
rather objectionable at first, as is the crowing of two or three
roosters early in the morning, it is surprising how soon one becomes
accustomed to these little annoyances, and it simplifies domestic
science considerably to be able to throw, from one's seat at table,
banana skins and other scraps through a convenient hole in the floor and
have them immediately disposed of by the pig and chickens beneath.
[Illustration: OUR RESIDENCE ON "WASHINGTON STREET."]
The dining room, as in many American houses, also served as a kitchen.
The stove was a large box, elevated two or three feet from the floor,
lined with baked clay upon which the fire is made. Large iron spikes,
arranged in groups of three, may be imbedded in the clay to hold one or
more pots of different sizes. There was no chimney, but a convenient
window carried out the smoke quite effectively. The fire-wood was stored
under the house in the pig-pen and consisted chiefly of short sticks of
such diameter as could be easily cut with the large knife or bolo that
the natives wear suspended from a belt at the waist. The sticks, when
the cooking is done, are simply withdrawn from beneath the pot and lie
ready to be pushed in again when the fire is lit for the next meal. A
very few sticks will thus serve for cooking a large number of the simple
native meals. Opening from the kitchen was the front door, leading to
the ground by a flight of stairs or a ladder. Thanks to the United
States Mariveles is supplied with abundant water, piped from some miles
up in the mountains, and some of the better houses of the barrio have a
private faucet on the back porch, which is luxury indeed. The main room
of the house was used as a living room and bedroom. In such houses there
are usually large windows, without sash of course, which are shaded by
day and closed by night and in severe storms by a hinged awning of nipa,
seen in the photographs. In spite of the warmth nearly all natives close
the window shades tight when they sleep, so that, in spite of the
numerous cracks, the ventilation must be very bad; this may partly
account for the prevalence of tuberculosis on the islands.
[Illustration: NATIVE GIRL CARRYING BASKET OF CLOTHES.]
Around the better houses in such a barrio is usually seen a high fence
generally made of closely set vertical saplings, driven into the ground
and bound together with rattan at the top; this fence serves to keep
the chickens in, and, at night, to keep prowling animals out.
Many of the houses have a tiny store at the ground level in which a
small stock of canned goods, native fruits, dried fish, native shoes
etc. may be seen. One of the main department stores of Mariveles is
shown in the accompanying photograph, with the very American sign at the
side of the entrance.
[Illustration: THE CHIEF STORE OF MARIVELES.]
Like many native villages Mariveles has a large stone church, with red
tile roof, bell tower, etc.; it is now in such bad repair as to be
unsafe, so that a crude shed with thatched sides and corrugated iron
roof has been built to take its place. No priest now lives in this
barrio and the shed-like church did not have the appearance of being
much used.
The village school, on the other hand, gave every indication of
activity. Although not housed in a very handsome building, a glance
through the windows and door showed many students of various ages all
apparently busy and orderly under the supervision of several neat and
bright looking native women.
On the same street with the school a link with the outside world was
seen in the sign "Telegraph and Post Office." This office was in charge
of a native who, unlike most of the residents of the barrio, spoke
English. In these villages it is usually easy to find natives who speak
Spanish, but it is frequently difficult to find one who understands
English.
[Illustration: THE OLD CHURCH.]
The men of the village were mostly engaged, though not very strenuously,
in the rice paddies or in fishing. The women looked after the
housekeeping, washing, tending the stores, etc., and their position of
respect and authority in the homes and in society was in marked contrast
to that of other oriental and even of some European women.
[Illustration: THE MARIVELES PUBLIC SCHOOL.]
A tiny store across the street from where we lived was tended during
most of the day and in the evenings by an attractive young native woman
who seemed to be quite a belle. Every evening, at about dark, a dapper
young native, in an American suit of white, always appeared and seated
himself upon the bench in front of the store, where he could see and
talk to his brunette lady love without interfering with her commercial
duties, which were not heavy. Often several other suitors appeared and,
while it was not possible to understand what was said, since
the conversation was all in Tagalog, from the frequent laughter it was
evident that the girl was as able to entertain several admirers at once
as are some of her blond sisters across the sea. Her voice was softer
and her laugh more attractive than that of many an American belle of
high social standing. In fact the women of this island village were, as
a class, of remarkable dignity and modesty, so that there was probably
less to shock one's modesty here than at many a fashionable American
watering place. Of course ignorance of their language made it impossible
to understand all that was going on, but to judge by their actions and
the tones of their voices it would seem that their family life is as
peaceful and happy as that of the average American family. It is truly
the "simple life" that they lead, and to us it seems a very narrow one;
yet it has its advantages over the "strenuous life" that most of us are
compelled to live. There was little or no drunkenness or quarreling
among the men, whose chief vice seemed to be gambling.
[Illustration: THE TELEGRAPH AND POST OFFICE.]
This gambling instinct is gratified mainly by means of the cockpit. One
of the most familiar sights of the islands is the native man with a
game cock or just a plain rooster under his arm. They pet and fondle
these birds as we do cats or lap-dogs, and on Sundays (alas!) they
gather at the cockpits to match their favorites against each other. Many
barrios have large covered pits seating hundreds of people. The pit of
Mariveles, which happened to be in the yard next to ours, was simply a
square of about twenty feet enclosed by a low bamboo fence, in the shade
of a huge acacia tree. Around this square were gathered about one
hundred men (probably all of the men of the barrio) and two or three
women, and we shall hope that the few women who were there to witness so
unpleasant a spectacle were looking after their husbands to see that
they did not bet too heavily.
[Illustration: NATIVE "BANCA" NEAR MARIVELES.]
Inside the square were two or three officials, and two men holding the
two contesting birds. A man at a table outside held the stakes and
presumably kept track of the bettors, odds, etc. Instead of the weapons
provided by nature each bird had securely fastened to his left leg,
in place of the spur that had been cut off, a villainously sharp
steel spur, slightly curved and about three inches long. A well
directed thrust from this steel weapon may kill the victim almost
instantly, and one victim was already hanging head-down to a near-by
tree when I entered.
[Illustration: A SCHOOLHOUSE IN ILOILO.]
While the bets were being arranged each bird was held, in turn, to let
the other peck him ferociously, probably with the idea of making them
mad enough to fight. When the bets were all arranged the birds were
placed on the ground facing each other, and with lowered heads and neck
feathers erected they dashed together like tigers, jumping high over
each other and endeavoring to stab one another with their artificial
weapons. In the one fight witnessed (and one was enough to learn the
ways of the cockpit) both birds were soon bleeding profusely and had
lost their desire to fight, so that the crowd called out some word and
the cocks were picked up and "sicked" on each other again; this was
repeated until one bird had enough and retreated ignominiously to the
farthest corner of the pit, amid the shouts of the men who had bet on
the other cock. In many cases, it is said, the vanquished bird is killed
outright before he has time to retreat.
The sport, while rather exciting, is certainly demoralizing, especially
with the betting that always accompanies it.
Such is the life of these simple people. Of course among the less
civilized and the savage tribes conditions are very different, and a
white man would not dare enter so intimately into the life of a barrio;
in fact in some regions it is very unsafe to go outside of the army
posts without a proper guard.
As to the character of the civilized Filipinos opinion seems to differ
among the Americans of the Islands. That they are not yet capable of
self-government seems to be almost universally believed by Americans who
have lived among them; and that they are not energetic as a class is
only what might be expected in such a climate. Some Americans have a
rather high opinion of the moral character and general trustworthiness
of the average native; others do not hold such a high opinion of him and
consider him the inferior of the American negro, mentally, morally and
physically. As students in the University of the Philippines it is said
they compare favorably with students in American universities.
Doubtless there is as much variation, mental and moral, among the
natives of the Philippine Islands as among the inhabitants of an
Anglo-Saxon country, so that one's opinions are apt to be influenced
by the class of natives with which he chiefly comes in contact.
II. A VISIT TO TAY TAY.
The cutter _Busuanga_ of the Philippine Bureau of Navigation had been
chartered to go to Tay Tay on the Island of Palawan, to bring back to
Manila the party of naturalists of the Bureau of Science who had been
studying the little-known fauna and flora of that far-away island, the
most westerly of the Philippine group.
[Illustration: VILLAGE OF TAY TAY FROM THE HARBOR.]
After leaving the dock at Manila at sundown we steamed out of the bay,
past the searchlights of Corregidor and the other forts which were
sweeping entirely across the entrance to the bay in a way that would
immediately expose any enemy that might attempt to slip by in the dark,
and by nine o'clock we were headed in a south-westerly direction across
the China Sea.
The next day we passed through winding passages along the Calamaines
group where every hour brought to view new islands of the greatest
beauty and of every size and shape. Upon one of these islands is a leper
colony which we visited and found most interesting.
[Illustration: TWO PROMINENT HOUSES IN TAY TAY.]
Early on the second morning we entered the harbor of the small but
ancient village of Tay Tay (pronounced "tie tie" and spelled in various
ways) on the eastern shore of Palawan. Not a white man lives in this
inaccessible hamlet and it is seldom that one visits it, as there is no
regular communication of any sort with the outside world.
The village consists of a dozen or two native huts along the beach in a
very pretty grove of coconut trees. Back of the village is a range of
low mountains covered with tropical jungle. The main point of interest
is a well constructed fort of stone, built on a small promontory that
projects out into the bay. The walls of the fort are very massive and
are surmounted at each of the four corners by a round watch tower. On
its land side the fort is entered through a narrow gate that leads by a
stone stairway to the top of the promontory. On various parts of the
walls are carvings and inscriptions showing that the different bastions
were built at different times.
[Illustration: THE SPANISH FORT AT TAY TAY.]
Within the fort and overlooking the walls is an old stone church whose
roof has long since fallen in. Within the fort is also a large
cement-lined, stone cistern to hold water in case of siege. The Spanish
inscriptions on the walls show that the fort was begun about 1720,
though the mission there was established about 1620. Lying about within
the fort are a few large iron cannon that were doubtless used by the
Spaniards in repulsing the attacks of the Moro pirates. It was for a
refuge from these pirates that this old fort was built nearly two
hundred years ago in this tiny, reef-protected harbor, on an island that
even now is unknown to a large majority of American people although it
is a part of our territory.
On the shore, just back of the fort, is another stone church whose roof
has also fallen in; and back of this church is a small thatched bell
tower with two very good bells of harmonious tones hanging in it. How
long these bells have been silent it is difficult to say, but no priest
now remains to carry on the work begun nearly three hundred years ago by
the brave padres from Spain, and not a Spaniard now lives in that almost
forgotten village. But for the moss-covered and still massive gray walls
of the fort and the crumbling ruins of the two churches one would never
imagine that this tiny village of brown men had ever been inhabited by
subjects of the kingdom of Spain.
[Illustration: CHURCH WITHIN THE FORT.]
In passing out of the harbor of Tay Tay we visited a small volcanic
island of curiously weathered and water-worn limestone. Except for a
narrow beach the sides of this island are almost perpendicular, and the
cliffs are honeycombed with dozens of water-worn caves. Many of these
caves are of great beauty, resembling the interiors of stone churches;
some extend far back into the dark interior of the island, others are
lighted by openings at the top. Many of them are beautifully colored,
and in an accessible region would doubtless be frequently visited by
tourists, while in their isolated location it is possible that they had
never before been visited by white men, unless in the old Spanish days.
It is in these and in similar caves of this region that the natives
obtain the edible birds' nests so highly prized by some, especially the
Chinese. The natives are said to have claims on certain caves, and any
one found stealing nests from another man's cave is supposedly dealt
with as a thief.
[Illustration: BELL-TOWER OF THE CHURCH OUTSIDE OF THE FORT.]
These curious nests are built by swifts (swallows) against the walls of
the dark caves much in the some way as is done by our common chimney
swifts, except that instead of cementing a number of small twigs
together by a kind of sticky secretion or saliva, the entire nest is
made of the sticky substance which dries into a sort of gummy mass. This
substance has but little taste, and why the wealthy Chinese should be
willing to pay such enormous prices ($12 to $15 per pound) for it is
hard to understand.
It is said that the first nest the bird makes in the season brings the
highest price because it is of pure material; this nest having been
taken the bird builds another, but, having a diminished supply of the
secretion, it introduces some foreign matter to help out, and this
foreign matter, of course, makes the nest less valuable as food. A third
nest may succeed the second, but it has still more foreign matter to
still further diminish its value. That the collection of the nests is
attended with considerable danger is evident from the vertical, jagged
walls of rock that must be scaled, either from below or above, to obtain
them.
[Illustration: ISLAND NEAR TAY TAY WHERE EDIBLE BIRDS' NESTS ARE FOUND.]
To those of us who lead busy lives in the centers of what we call
twentieth-century civilization, life in a place so isolated from the
rest of the world as Tay Tay seems impossible. Yet the inhabitants of
this barrio are quite contented and fairly comfortable. They live "the
simple life" indeed. While their resources are exceedingly limited their
needs and desires are correspondingly few. They never suffer from cold
and probably not often from heat or hunger: and they are not cursed with
the ambitions that make so many of us dissatisfied with our lives.
III. THE LEPER COLONY OF CULION.
It was early Sunday morning when the "Busuanga" dropped anchor in the
harbor of Culion Island, one of the Calamaines group of the Philippines,
and two or three of us were fortunate enough to be invited to land, for
an hour or so, to visit the leper colony that is said to be the largest
in the world.
We were met at the tiny dock by the physician-in-charge, Dr. Clements,
and by him escorted about the colony. This physician, who has spent long
years in these eastern lands, gives the immediate impression of a man of
quiet force, and the work he is doing in this seldom-visited island is
as fine a piece of missionary work, though carried on by the government,
as can probably be found anywhere.
Including the dock a few acres of the island are fenced off, and into
this enclosure the lepers are forbidden to enter; otherwise they have
the run of the island, but are not allowed boats for fear they would be
used as a means of escape.
Within the non-leprous enclosure are located the residences for the
doctors and other officials; the living quarters, kitchens etc. (all of
concrete) for the non-leprous laborers; and various shops and other such
buildings.
At the "dead line" fence between this and the leprous part of the island
a Chinaman has a small store where the lepers can buy various articles
such as may be seen in a small country store. The articles are in plain
sight, but the leper is not allowed to touch anything until he has
decided to take it; he then drops his money into a sterilizing solution
and gets his purchase. A more modern store is being arranged by the
government that will soon displace the _Chino_.
Passing this minute store we entered the gate of the "forbidden city,"
and, though there is no danger from merely breathing the same air with
lepers, it gave us a rather strange sensation to be surrounded by
thirty-four hundred poor wretches who in Biblical times would have been
compelled to cry "Unclean! unclean!" We, of course, did not touch
anything within the colony, though the doctors do not hesitate to touch
even the lepers themselves.
The colony proper is located on a small promontory looking eastward to
the harbor and the Sulu Sea. At the end of this promontory is an old
Spanish fort of stone with its enclosed church. Most of the Christian
lepers are Roman Catholics, though there is a small Protestant church in
the colony, in charge of a leprous native minister.
[Illustration: DOCTORS' RESIDENCES AND OTHER BUILDINGS OUTSIDE OF THE
COLONY FENCE.]
The lepers are brought from the various islands of the Philippines to
this colony so fast that it is with great difficulty that they can be
accommodated; but all are made comfortable, in fact much more
comfortable, in most cases, than they would ever have been at home.
Except for homesickness, which cannot, of course, be avoided, they are
quite happy, or as happy as any hopelessly sick people can be away from
home and friends.
Fine concrete dormitories are supplied, but many prefer to build their
own native houses of nipa palm and bamboo. A certain amount of help is
given the lepers in building these houses on condition that they first
obtain a permit and build in the proper place in relation to the streets
that have been laid out.
Besides the dormitories there are several concrete kitchen buildings
where the lepers can prepare their food in comfort.
A plentiful supply of pure water is distributed by pipes to various
convenient parts of the colony, and several concrete bath and wash
houses are conveniently located. A concrete sewage system leads all
sewage to the sea.
[Illustration: CONCRETE DORMITORY AND NATIVE SHACKS.]
In this tropical climate it is, of course, unnecessary to provide any
means of heating the buildings. At the time of our visit a large
amusement pavilion was nearly completed where moving pictures and other
forms of entertainment will help pass the time for these poor wretches
who have nothing to look forward to but a lingering death from a
loathsome disease.
A large number of the patients who are in the incipient stages showed,
to the ordinary observer, no effects of the disease. There were others
who at first glance seemed perfectly normal, but on closer scrutiny
revealed the absence of one or more toes or fingers. Others had horribly
swollen ears: some had no nose left and were distressing objects; but
it was not until we visited the various wards of the hospital that we
saw leprosy in all of its horror. Here were dozens of cases so far
advanced that they were no longer able to walk; they were lying on their
cots waiting for death to come to their release. Some were so emaciated
as to look almost like animated skeletons. Others, except for and
sometimes in spite of their bandages, looked like horrid, partially
decomposed cadavers. It was a sight to make one shudder and devoutly
hope that a cure for this awful disease may soon be discovered. These
extreme cases are cared for carefully and their last hours are made as
comfortable as possible.
[Illustration: CONCRETE KITCHEN AND LAVATORY BUILDINGS AND NATIVE
RESIDENCES.]
As we came, out three Catholic sisters entered the women's ward to do
what they could for the patients there.
Shortly before leaving the colony we were led to a small concrete
structure (near the furnace where all combustible waste is burned), and
as the door was opened we saw before us on a concrete slab four bodies
so wasted and shrivelled that they seemed scarcely human. These were
those who had at last been cured in the only way that this dread
disease admits of cure. About forty per month are released by death, and
those we saw were the last crop of the here _merciful_ not "dread
reaper."
At the back of the colony we met four lepers of incipient stages
carrying a long box on their shoulders. Just as they came abreast of us
they set it down, to rest themselves, and we saw that in the box was
another "cured" leper. He was being carried to the cemetery not only
"unhonored and unsung" but also "unwept": not a single friend nor
relative followed his wasted body to its final resting place. After this
pitiful spectacle, added to the horrors of the hospital wards, we were
not sorry to turn our steps back toward the boat. As we passed through
the fence at the "dead line," going away from the colony, we were
compelled to wade through a shallow box of water containing a small
percentage of carbolic acid which disinfected the soles of our shoes,
the only things about us that had come in actual contact with the leper
colony. In this way all visitors when they leave the colony are
compelled, not to "shake its dust from their feet" but to wash its germs
from their soles.
As an antidote for dissatisfaction with one's lot in life, or as an
object lesson for the pessimists who claim there is no unselfishness in
the world, or as an illustration of the value of the medical missionary,
this little island, lying "somewhere east of Suez" between the Sulu and
the China Seas, is not easily surpassed.
IV. FROM ZAMBOANGA TO SINGAPORE.
When the North German Lloyd steamer "Sandakan" left the dock at
Zamboanga she had in the first cabin only three passengers, a Russian of
uncertain occupation, a young lieutenant of the Philippine constabulary,
and myself. We had, therefore, the pick of the deck staterooms, which is
worth while when traveling within ten degrees of the equator in
mid-summer.
Zamboanga is the chief city of the island of Mindanao and is the capital
of the turbulent Moro province, which includes the well-known island of
Sulu with its once-famous sultan.
After a night's run we tied up at the dock of Jolo, the chief town of
the island of Sulu. Here my two companions left the ship, so that until
we reached the next port, Sandakan, I was the only cabin passenger, and
when the ship's officers were prevented by their duties from appearing
at the table I had the undivided attention of the chief steward, two
cooks, and three waiters. This line of vessels being primarily for
freight the "Sandakan" has accommodations for less than twenty
first-cabin passengers, and it probably seldom has anything like a full
list on this out-of-the-way run from "Zambo" to Singapore. So far as its
accommodations go, however, they are excellent, and a pleasanter trip of
a week or ten days would be hard to find, in spite of the tropical heat.
While the first cabin list was so small, the third class accommodations
seemed taxed to their utmost, and the conglomeration of orientals was an
unending source of amusement. They slept all over their deck and
appeared happy and comfortable in spite of the fact that they seemed
never to remove their clothes nor to bathe; it is probable that to most
of them ten days without such luxuries was not a noticeable deprivation.
Leaving Jolo, a picturesque walled city with a reputation for dangerous
Moros (one is not supposed to go outside the walls without an armed
guard, and many men carry a "45" at their hip at all times), we sailed
southwest through the countless islands of the Sulu Archipelago, and
after a run of about twenty hours passed the high red cliff at the
entrance to the harbor of Sandakan, the capital of British North Borneo,
and were soon alongside the dock.
Sandakan is a rather pretty little town of two or three thousand
inhabitants, including about fifty white people. It extends along the
shore for about a mile and in the center has the athletic or recreation
field, that is found in all these little towns, as well as the post
office and other government buildings. In this central part of the town
are also the Chinese stores, usually dirty, ill-smelling and
unattractive; but there are no others. In all this region the Chinese
seem to have a complete monopoly of the commercial business.
[Illustration: THE WATER FRONT AT SANDAKAN.]
A hundred yards or more from the shore the hills rise steeply from
sea-level to a few hundred feet, and over these hills are scattered the
attractive bungalows of the white residents. There is also here a
handsome stone church, overlooking the bay, with a school for native
boys in connection with it. The hills farther from the town are heavily
wooded, and the timber is being sawed at mills along the shore road. On
the streets are seen men of several nationalities, Chinese, Malays,
Moros, East Indians, and occasionally a Caucasian in his customary white
suit and pith helmet; but of all these the most dignified and stately is
the Indian policeman. He is tall and slender, with frequently a fine
black beard; his head is covered with the usual white turban, set off
with a touch of red. His gray spiral puttees generally do not quite
reach the bottom of his khaki trousers, thus leaving his knees bare.
Hanging from his belt is his club, similar to those carried by American
policemen, and jangling in one hand is usually a pair of steel
handcuffs. In passing white men he often raises his hand in a formal
military salute that would be worthy of a major general. Altogether he
is a most impressive personage and, with such examples constantly before
them, it would seem incredible that the citizens should ever cause
a-disturbance. An interesting contrast was seen in a group of men,
sitting idly in the shade and watching eight little Chinese women
stagger by with a huge tree trunk that would seem too heavy for an equal
number of strong men to carry: but this is "East of Suez, where the best
is like the worst," whatever Kipling meant by that.
[Illustration: SANDAKAN FROM THE HILL.
The "Sandakan" at the Dock.]
At Sandakan the first cabin passenger list was increased 100 per cent by
the advent of a young Danish rubber man--not a man made of young
Danish rubber, but a young Dane from Singapore who had been inspecting
rubber plantations, of which there are many on Borneo.
[Illustration: BUNGALOW ON THE HILL, SANDAKAN.]
Leaving the capital city at sunset we arrived at Kudat, our next
stopping place, early the next morning. With a very similar location
this is a much smaller town than the preceding, consisting of four or
five hundred people including half a dozen Caucasians. In spite of its
small size it has a small garrison of native soldiers and the inevitable
recreation ground. Besides this there is here a race track at which a
meet was about to be held. Attracted probably by the races was the
ubiquitous moving picture show, set up in a tent near the race track. It
is impossible to escape the "movies." I attended a moving picture
exhibition given in the cockpit of a small Philippine village about
fifty miles out from Manila, and here was another in a still smaller
village on the Island of Borneo, hundreds of miles from _anywhere_. In
the same way it is impossible to escape the voice of the phonograph. On
several occasions I have heard them in tiny nipa shacks in small
Philippine villages, and in a Moro shack in Kudat, built on poles above
the water, I heard the sound of what seemed a very good phonograph of
some sort.
[Illustration: CHINESE WOMEN CARRYING LOG, SANDAKAN.]
In the northeast corner of Borneo is its highest mountain, Kini or Kina
Balu, the Chinese Widow, supposedly so named because of the fancied
resemblance of its jagged top to the upturned face of a woman. It is
really a very impressive peak and, being seen from the sea, it looks its
full height of nearly fourteen thousand feet; being exactly under the
sixth parallel it is, of course, too close to the equator to be
snow-capped. Its position near the coast enabled us to enjoy it as we
approached the island from the northeast and as we passed around and
down the west coast, so that it was visible for nearly three days. Other
mountain peaks of five or six thousand feet are visible along the west
coast but they appear insignificant in comparison with old Kini Balu.
[Illustration: CHINO CARRIER, SANDAKAN.]
[Illustration: RACE-COURSE AT KUDAT.
Movie tent in the left background.]
Leaving Kudat in the evening we arrived at Jesselton the following
morning. This is a town of about the same size and character of location
as Kudat, but as the northern terminus of the only railroad on the
island it seems much more of a metropolis. It has a clock-tower, too,
the pride of every Jesseltonian heart, located in plain view of
the railroad station so that there is no excuse for the trains leaving
Jesselton more than two or three hours late. There is here again the
recreation field and market house, and, of course, the usual Chinese
stores and Indian policemen; besides this it is the home town of the
Governor (an Englishman, of course) of British North Borneo. But the
railroad is the chief feature of Jesselton. To be sure it is only a
narrow gauge, but it carries people, if they are not in too big a hurry,
and freight. The engines are of English type but the cars
are--original, surely. There are first and third class passenger
coaches, no second class, to say nothing of a baggage "van." The third
class cars have simply a rough wooden bench along each side and seat
about twenty people. The first class cars are of two types: the first is
like the third class with the addition of cushions to the seats and
curtains to the windows; the second kind is a sort of Pullman car; it is
of the same size, but instead of the benches it has about half a dozen
wicker chairs that may be moved about at will.
[Illustration: MORO SHACKS AT KUDAT.
In one of these a phonograph was heard.]
Having a few hours to spare I decided to take a ride into the country. I
had already climbed one of the hills where I could get a view inland to
Kini Balu, over miles of jungle where no white man has ever been. But I
wanted to see a little of this country, from the car-window at least. So
I entered the station and interviewed the station master, a portly
official of great dignity. He told me, in fair English, that the train
on the "main line" had left for that day but that I could take a "local"
out into the country for about three miles. This was better than
nothing, so I climbed (and climb is the proper word) aboard the first
class car of the local that was soon to start. I was the only
first-class passenger and I felt like a railroad president in his
private car. Soon after starting the conductor entered. He was a tall
and, of course, dignified East Indian in turban and khaki uniform. He
had the punch without which no conductor would be complete, and,
suspended from a strap over his shoulder, was a huge canvas bag, like a
mail bag, the purpose of which puzzled me. The fare, he told me, was
fifteen cents to the end of the line; on giving him a twenty-cent piece
I found the purpose of the canvas bag; it was his money bag, and he
carefully fished from its depths my five cents change. The Borneo
pennies are about as big as cart wheels so this bag was not so out of
proportion as it might seem. In exchange for my fare he gave me a ticket
marked "fifteen cents," which he gravely punched. I did not know what
the ticket was for as I thought there would hardly be a change of
conductors in a run of three miles, but I kept it and in about five
minutes the dignified conductor returned and gravely took up the ticket
again; this impressive performance was repeated on the return trip.
[Illustration: HOSPITAL ON THE HILL, KUDAT.]
After leaving the crowded(?) streets of the city our speed rapidly
increased until we were traveling at a rate of not less than ten miles
an hour, which was fast enough considering there were no airbrakes on
the train of three cars, and we had to be ready to stop at any moment
when somebody might want to get on or off. Doubtless the "flyers" on the
main line of the British North Borneo State Railroad run at even greater
speeds than this. The dignity of the officials of this miniature
railroad was most interesting, and was almost equal to that of a negro
porter on the Empire State Express.
[Illustration: CLUB HOUSE AT JESSELTON.]
Leaving this railroad center early the next morning we arrived, before
dark, at our last stop in Borneo, Labuan. We had added 50 per cent to
our cabin passenger list at Jesselton by taking aboard a young English
engineer from South Africa.
[Illustration: PASSENGER TRAIN ON THE B. N. B. S. R. R. AT JESSELTON.]
The Island of Labuan upon which the town of the same name is situated
lies just off the northwest coast of Borneo. It came under the
protectorate of Great Britain in 1846 and, though small, has a more
up-to-date appearance than any of the other towns visited. The stores
are mainly of concrete with red tile or red-painted corrugated iron
roofs, which, among the tall coconut palms, are very attractive in
appearance. There is one main street, parallel to the beach line, that
is extended as a modern, oiled road for some miles into the country.
Along this road are the very attractive official buildings, each with
its sign in front; also the recreation field and the residences of the
few white inhabitants. All of the streets are clean and have deep cement
gutters on the sides that lead to the sea or to the various lagoons that
extend through the town. Water pipes also extend along the streets with
openings at convenient intervals. Extensive coal mines are located near
the town, but for some reason they were not profitable and the cars and
docks for handling coal are now nearly all idle. On one of the lagoons
is a rather artistic Chinese temple of concrete, well built and in good
repair.
On the main street is a school, and, seeing a crowd of natives at the
door, I joined the throng to see what was going on inside. It proved to
be the singing hour, and about fifty little Chinese boys, from six to
ten years of age, all in neat khaki uniforms, were singing at the tops
of their voices, led by a very active Chinese man. The little fellows
seemed to enjoy the singing thoroughly, and, after hearing several
songs, all in Chinese, of course, to strange and unusual tunes, I was
surprised to recognize one of the tunes--it was "John Brown's body
lies amoulding in the grave" though what the words were I was unable to
tell since, like the other songs, they were in Chinese.
[Illustration: BORNEAN BOAT AT JESSELTON.]
At Labuan the last of our cabin passengers came aboard, two Englishmen,
one a mining engineer, the other a government man. Since no more stops
were to be made in Borneo, the Sandakan headed in a southwest direction
straight for Singapore, and in exactly three days we entered that busy
harbor and dropped anchor among the more than two dozen other ocean
liners from all parts of the world.
[Illustration: MAIN STREET AT LABUAN.]
[Illustration: POST OFFICE AND RECREATION GROUND AT LABUAN.]
Singapore is one of the busiest seaports in the world and the hundreds
of vessels of all sizes and types against the background of handsome
white and cream-colored buildings make a very interesting and impressive
sight.
[Illustration: CHINESE TEMPLE AT LABUAN.]
Thus ended a most interesting voyage of nine days, through a region
seldom visited by any but a few Englishmen who are interested in some
way in the development of that, as yet, little developed part of the
world. Although it is a trip that is easily arranged by visitors to the
Philippines it is one that is seldom taken by the tourist.
V. SINGAPORE, THE MELTING POT OF THE EAST.
In Singapore, it is said, can be seen more races of men than at any
other one spot in the world, so that it has been well named "The Melting
Pot of the East." It is also sometimes spoken of as "The Gateway of the
East," since all vessels bound for ports in the Far East call there.
[Illustration: HONGKONG BANK AND PUBLIC SQUARE.]
It is said, perhaps without sufficient historical evidence, that the
town was first settled by Malays in 1360 A. D.; but as a port of any
importance its history begins in 1819 when it was ceded by Jahore to
Great Britain through the instrumentality of Sir Stamford Raffles, whose
name is perpetuated in connection with many of the local institutions.
[Illustration: A CHINESE RESIDENCE STREET.]
[Illustration: A SUBURBAN RESIDENCE.]
In the early days, in fact until the introduction of steamships, there
was much annoyance and danger from pirates at sea and robbers on land,
but that of course is now long past and one is as safe here as in any
other part of the world.
The present-day Singapore is a thriving town of more than 250,000
inhabitants, and is one of the busiest harbors in the world; more than
three dozen sea-going steamships may sometimes be seen in the harbor at
the same time, and the number of rowboats and other small craft is
legion.
[Illustration: VICTORIA MEMORIAL HALL AND SINGAPORE CRICKET CLUB.]
On landing one is fairly overwhelmed by the _rickisha_ men, for the
_jinrikisha_, the two-wheeled Japanese cart, is _the_ method of travel
in Singapore, though one may hire a pony wagon (_ghari_), or even an
automobile at very reasonable rates. As to the electric cars, or
"trams," the less said the better; they would disgrace a city of
one-tenth the size of Singapore.
The streets are excellent and are nearly all level, so that the
rickishas, usually pulled by Chinese, make good time. Many residents own
their own rickisha and hire the man by the month; more well-to-do
people, and there are many wealthy people both native and foreign in
Singapore, have their own teams and automobiles.
[Illustration: THE SCOTCH KIRK.]
While there are regular rickisha stands in different parts of town,
especially near the hotels and other public places, there are few
streets so unfrequented that one cannot "pick up" a rickisha at a
moment's notice. Umbrellas are scarcely needed, for in case of a shower
one may call a rickisha to the curb and be whisked to his destination
dryshod. In fact there is very little walking done in Singapore,
especially by Europeans; it is so easy to get into the ever-present and
alluring rickisha. Moreover, it is very hot in the sun, for Singapore is
only a little more than one degree from the equator. There is a regular
scale of prices for public vehicles, but the newcomer is always
"spotted" and is charged double or treble the regular fare until he
learns better than to heed the pathetic or indignant protests of the
rickisha men.
[Illustration: Y. M. C. A. BUILDING. Methodist Church in left
background.]
[Illustration: ST. JOSEPH'S COLLEGE.]
Like other cities in the East Singapore is a mixture of beauty and
squalor. In the region of the banks, steamship offices, and wholesale
houses there are many handsome buildings: but in the Chinese districts
that make up the greater part of the business section, for the Chinese
merchants far outnumber all others, there are narrow crowded streets,
small houses, and large and variagated smells. There is also a
notorious and wide-open red-light district that is a disgrace to a
modern and supposedly civilized town.
While the saloon is not particularly in evidence the indulgence in
_stengahs_ (Malay for _half_), or whiskey and sodas, is well-nigh
universal among the European population, not always excluding the women
and clergy. Since alcohol is said to be particularly dangerous in the
tropics it would be interesting to know the total effect of this general
indulgence. It is generally conceded that after a few years of tropical
life Europeans must go home to recuperate; it would be interesting to
know if the use of strong alcoholics bears any relation to the frequency
of these necessary trips to temperate regions.
[Illustration: PART OF A CHINESE FUNERAL PROCESSION.]
Certainly life seems easy and pleasant in Singapore, especially among
government officials. About eight or nine o'clock in the morning a
stream of rickishas, carriages and automobiles carries the men down town
from their pleasant and often very handsome homes uptown or in the
suburbs. Many of the finest of these homes are owned by wealthy Chinese
merchants. About five in the afternoon the stream sets in the other
direction, carrying those whose day's work is over back to their cool
villas or to some recreation ground where tennis, cricket, golf, or
football may be enjoyed for an hour or two before dark. Dinner is
usually between seven and eight and is over in time for evening
entertainments which begin late. Although too far from the beaten tracks
frequently to enjoy first-class dramatic talent, there are the
ubiquitous "movies," and for the transient visitor the Malay and Chinese
theaters are of great interest.
[Illustration: PART OF A CHINESE FUNERAL PROCESSION.]
An excellent race course provides entertainment of that sort at frequent
intervals. For the more serious-minded the extensive Raffles Museum and
Library is centrally and beautifully located.
The beautiful Anglican Cathedral is the largest church in the city, and
many other denominations possess smaller but attractive churches.