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JAVA AND HER
NEIGHBOURS
A TRAVELLER'S NOTES IN JAVA,
CELEBES, THE MOLUCCAS
AND SUMATRA

ARTHUR S. WALCOTT

WITH 78 ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
ttbe ftnicfcerbocker press
1914
 Copyright, 1914
BY
ARTHUR S. WALCOTT

tCbe ftntcfeerbocfeer press, "Hew Kork

 Go
F. A. W.
*
 PREFACE
THE Dutch East Indies, despite their excep
tional natural attractions, and the safety and
comfort with which they may be visited to-day,
are still comparatively unknown to the world of
travellers and to the greater world of stay-at-
homes. Java alone, of all the islands, has become
to any appreciable extent the resort of English or
American tourists or pleasure-seekers. The only
comparatively recent books in English that nar
rate actual travel experiences in the Dutch Indies
have confined their attentions to Java, where the
conditions described have already changed con
siderably for the better. It is for these reasons
that I have ventured to write up in the following
pages the notes of my three months' wanderings in
Java, Celebes, the Moluccas, and Sumatra, in the
hope that they may prove of use to some at least
of the ever-increasing army of travellers and of
interest to others who by preference or of necessity
do their travelling by proxy.
In the introductory chapter will be found an
outline sketch of the history of the islands from
the time of the arrival of the European discoverers,
and in an appendix are given the present adminis-

265325
vi PREFACE

trative divisions of Netherlands India and a few

other facts, for purposes of reference. An index
of geographical and personal names and a sketch
map showing the routes covered have been added
for the better convenience of the reader.
The illustrations are for the most part from my
own films,—the survivors of a much larger num
ber which suffered severely in experiences with an
unfavourable climate and the fatal carelessness of
Chinese photographers. For others I am in
debted to my friend Carr M. Thomas. In the
case of the remainder, credit has been given when
possible. The views by Kurkdjian of Soerabaya
are worthy of special mention.
In the spelling of place-names it has been im
possible to follow any hard and fast rule, for even
the official spelling varies in some cases. In
general the spelling most favoured by the Dutch
has been chosen, but in a few cases, the more
familiar though possibly less accurate form has
been adopted. It should be remembered in pro
nouncing the names that "oe" corresponds to
"ou" or "u" in English, "j" or "ji" to "y," and
"ui" to "ai" or to "uy" in "buy."
A. S. W.
 CONTENTS
PAG*
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER
HISTORICAL SKETCH
Situation, Size, and Geological History of the Dutch East
Indies—Early Inhabitants—Migrations and Con
quests—Early European Knowledge—Prince Henry
of Portugal and the Portuguese Discoveries—Magel
lan and the Spanish—Drake and the English—Houtman
and the Dutch—The East India Companies—Dutch
Supremacy and Administration I

CHAPTER I
GENERALITIES SINGAPORE AND THE VOYAGE TO
JAVA
Attractions of the Indies—Climatic Conditions—Singapore
—By Steamer to Java—Fellow-Passengers and Life
Aboard—Banka and Billiton—Arrival at Tandjong
Priok—By Rail to Batavia (Weltevreden) ... 26

CHAPTER II
WELTEVREDEN, RESIDENTIAL AND OFFICIAL
BATAVIA
A First-Class Javanese Hotel—Daily Life—Conveyances—
Monetary System—Old and Present-Day Weltevreden
—Modern Common-Sense Ideas—"Sights" of the .
Capital—The Government of the Indies . . ,42
vii
viii CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER III
OLD BATAVIA
Its Origin—Jacatra—The Fort, Batavia—The Old Cannon
—Erberfeld-s Skull—Other "Sights"—The Chinese
and Other Asiatic Foreigners—The Natives . . 57

CHAPTER IV
A TRIP TO BUITENZORG AND THE BOTANICAL
GARDENS
The Native Villages—Their Inhabitants, their Physical
Characteristics and Dress—In a Fruit Market—Rice
Cultivation—The "Carbo"—A Fine View—The
Country Capital—The Botanical Gardens—The "In
scribed Stone" ....... 69

CHAPTER V
BY THE NORTH COAST TO SOERABAYA: SOLO,
A NATIVE CAPITAL
Routes—Native Servants—A Bad Night on Shipboard—
Cheribon—Semarang and its Suburb, Tjondi—An
Excursion to Solo—Street Scenes—The "Kraton"
and the " Susuhunan "—The Growth of the Dutch
Power in the Principalities—Arrival at Soerabaya—
The Kali Mas—A Commercial Capital—The Last of
our "Boy" 85

CHAPTER VI
A CRUISE TO CELEBES
Possible Routes to Borneo and Other Islands from Soerabaya
—Bali and its People—Arrival at Macassar—Celebes
(Generalities)—The Bugis—"Sights" of Macassar—
The Dutch Colonial Army—The Tello River Ferry-
Visit to Goa—On to Borneo—Balikpappan, a Petro
leum Port—Back to Celebes—Landing at Paleleh . 106
 CONTENTS ix
PACE
CHAPTER VII
IN THE MINAHASA DISTRICT, NORTH CELEBES
Menado—Its Dangerous Anchorage—Our Hotel—The
Town, its Buildings, and its People—By Pony-Cart
to Tondano—Reformed Head-Hunters—Tomohon—
Tondano—Its Falls and Lake—The Malays of the
Minahasa—"Forced Cultivation" of Coffee—Exports
—Animal Life of Celebes—Departure for the Moluccas 122

CHAPTER VIII
THE VOLCANIC ISLAND OF TERNATE, ONE OF THE
ORIGINAL SPICE ISLANDS
Across the Molucca Passage—Arrival at Ternate—The
Spice Trade—The European Discoveries and Early
Dealings with the Moluccan Sultans—A Town of the
Past—Our Rest-House—The Old Fort and Other Sights
—Excursion to "Castle Lake"—The Volcano . . 14D

CHAPTER IX
CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS
A Line of Volcanoes—Laboeka, Port of Batjan—Animal
Life—Exports—Among the Islands—A "Moving
Picture" at Bara—Kajeli, Boeroe Island—Ambon
Bay—The Town and Island—The "Massacre"—
—The Fort—The Inhabitants—Grottoes of Batoe
Lebong—Birds, Shells, etc.—Voyage to the Bandas—
Arrival—Another Volcanic Zone Lost Prosperity
—Town of Banda Neira—The Nutmegs—The Volcano
—Boeton Island—Return to Soerabaya . . . 158
1
CHAPTER X
TOSARI AND THE TENGGER VOLCANOES
On the Way to the Tenggers—Sugar Cultivation—Pasoe-
roean, Pasrepan, and Poespo—Flora of Tosari—The
 CONTENTS
PAGE

Hotel—The Tenggris—Excursion to Moenggal Pass—

A Nest of Craters—The Legend of Batok—A Visit to
the Bromo Crater—A Few Facts about Java . .182

CHAPTER XI
RUINED TEMPLES OF CENTRAL JAVA

By Rail to Central Java—Teak Forests—Ambarawa—

Kedoe Province—Magelang—Local Costumes—First
View of the Boro Boedoer—Origin and History—Con
struction—Details—Carvings—Tales from the Jatakas
—The Kitchen Shrine—The Mendoet Ruins—On the
Highway to Djokja—By Motor to Prambanan—The
Loro Djonggrang Temples—The Tjandi Sewoe—
Royal Tombs at Pasargede 198

CHAPTER XII
THE NATIVE CAPITAL AND PALACE OF DJOKJAKARTA
Past and Present Djokja—A Model Shop—Batik Work—
The Kris—Costumes—The Ruined Palace—A Visit
to the Present Palace—Its Sights—The Topeng,
Wayong, and Other Amusements .... 224

CHAPTER XIII
GAROET AND THE PREANGERS: A VISIT TO THE
CRATER OF PAPANDAJAN
The Railway Journey from Djokja to Garoet—A Health
Resort and Hunting Headquarters—Soendanese Carts,
Houses, etc.—The Angklong—Lake Bagendit and its
Novel Craft—A Panorama of Volcanoes—Flying
Foxes—The Start for Papandajan—Tea and Coffee
Cultivation—The Tropical Jungle—Sights of the
Crater Floor—The White Lake and the Valley of the
Dead 241
 CONTENTS xi

CHAPTER XIV
THE WESTERN PREANGERS: SINDANGLAYA AND
ITS SURROUNDINGS
A Scenic Railway—Bandoeng—The Quinine Industry—
The Tangkoeban Prahoe—On to Tjiandjoer—By Cart
to Sindanglaya—Native Inns—The Hotel—The Poent-
jak Pass Road—The Colour- Changing Lake—The
Tjipanas Palace and its Gardens—Breakfast Hill—The
Trail to the Falls of Tjibeureum—The Gedeh Volcano
—A Rest at Soekaboemi—The Wealth of the Preangers
—Javanese Tobacco—Return to Batavia . . . 260

CHAPTER XV
THE ISLAND OF SUMATRA : DESCRIPTIVE AND
HISTORICAL
Situation, Size, Natural Features, Fauna, and Flora—Origin
of Name—Early Inhabitants and Visitors—Arrival of
the European Traders—Later History—Prospects—
—Railways and Hotels 275

CHAPTER XVI
UP THE WEST COAST OF SUMATRA TO PADANG
Departure from Tandjong Priok—Telok Betong—Kraka-
toa and its Terrific Eruption—Rough Seas—Bencoelen
and its Surroundings—Fine Sunsets—The Approach
to Emma Haven—Padang—A Poekang—A Snake—
Past and Future of Padang 287

CHAPTER XVII
A WEEK IN THE PADANG HIGHLANDS
By Rack-Rail to the Highlands—The Aneh and its Valley—
Branch Line to the Coal-Fields—On to Fort de Kock—
The Town, Its Hotel, Shops, and Pedlars—The Buf-
xii CONTENTS
PAGE
falo Gully—Excursion to Lake Manindjau—The
Natives—Curious Horned Houses—The Crater Lake
—The Gap of Harau—The Pajakombo Market—
House Interiors—Native Social System—Character
istics—Food—The Bataks ..... 303

CHAPTER XVIII
PORTS OF NORTH SUMATRA. THE END OF THE
VOYAGE
The Last Stage of the Journey—The Niassais—Dangers of
Navigation—Oelee-Lheue and Kota Radja— Sabang,
the Port of Weh Island—The Achinese—Sigli, Lho
Seumawe, and Kwala Langsa—The Back Door of
Sumatra—Arrival at Penang—Conclusion . . . 329

Appendix: Administrative Divisions, etc. . . . 341

Index 345
 ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING
PAGE

WOMEN AND CHILDREN OF THE PADANG HIGH

LANDS, Sumatra . . Frontispiece

NATIVE TYPES, BATAVIA IO

AN OUTDOOR MEAL IO

IN OLD BATAVIA ...... l8

A SULTAN OF DJOKJA AND THE DUTCH RESIDENT 22

A NATIVE SERVANT 34
A DOMESTIC SCENE 34
NATIVE SAIL-BOATS, N. JAVA COAST . 40

A SADO, THE CAB OF JAVA 46

A LARGE WHEELED CART, SOERABAYA 46

AN OUTDOOR LAUNDRY, WELTEVREDEN 50

A CANAL IN THE OLD CITY, BATAVIA 58

THE ERBERVELD SKULL AND INSCRIPTION 62

A JAVANESE BRIDE AND GROOM 72

XIV ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING
PAGE

A YOUNG MOTHER

NATIVE CART AND PONIES, BATAVIA .

IN A NATIVE MARKET, JAVA

JAVANESE MARKET SCENE

ARAB STREET AND MOSQUE, SOERABAYA .

THE RED BRIDGE, SOERABAYA .

NATIVE BOAT, N. CELEBES

NATIVE HOUSE, GOA, S. CELEBES

NATIVE TYPES, GOA, S. CELEBES

GOING ASHORE, PALELEH, N. CELEBES

THE TOWN OF MENADO, N. CELEBES .

HOUSE IN THE EUROPEAN QUARTER, MENADO

FRONT WALL OF FORT, MENADO

SIDE VIEW OF FORT, MENADO . .

NATIVE SAIL-BOAT, N. CELEBES

THE MAIN STREET, TOMOHON, N. CELEBES .

COUNTRY CARTS AT THE MARKET, MENADO.

NATIVE HOUSES, PALELEH, N. CELEBES

TERNATE ROOFS AND THE TIDORE VOLCANO

 ILLUSTRATIONS XV
FACING
PAGE

THE PALACE AND THE VOLCANO, TERNATE 152

ARAB MOSQUE, TERNATE, N. MOLUCCAS l60
FISHING VILLAGE, N. CELEBES . I64
WALL AND MOAT OF OLD FORT, BANDA NEIRA 172
GROUP OF BOYS, BOETON ISLAND 176
NATIVE HOUSE, BOETON ISLAND I8O

NATIVE BOATS, BOETON ISLAND 180

THE ROAD TO THE BROMO CRATER . 186

THE TENGGER VOLCANOES, EAST JAVA I90

UPPER INTERIOR WALLS OF THE BROMO CRATER 1 94

THE BOTTOM OF THE CRATER PIT 194

THE TJANDI BORO BOEDOER 198

A GALLERY, BORO BOEDOER 202

A STAIRWAY ARCH, BORO BOEDOER 206

BAS-RELIEFS, BORO BOEDOER . 2IO

THE CHIEF IMAGE OF THE MENDOET TEMPLE 214

THE LORO DJONGGRANG TEMPLES, CENTRAL JAVA 2l8

A GUARDIAN OF THE TJANDI SEWOE 220

BAS-RELIEFS, PRAMBANAN TEMPLES . 224

xvi ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING
PAGE

A KRATON GATE AND GUARD-HOUSE . . . 228

IN THE MAIN COURT OF THE KRATON, DJOKJA . 232

JAVANESE ACTORS AND ORCHESTRA . . . 236

BAS-RELIEFS, PRAMBANAN TEMPLES . . . 242

ENTRANCE TO ROYAL TOMBS, PASARGEDE . . 25O

TYPES OF JAVANESE BEAUTY . . . . 262

ON AN UPPER PLATFORM, BORO BOEDOER . . 270

A SOENDANESE HOUSE IN THE PREANGERS . . 27O

SUMATRAN WOMEN IN THEIR SLENDANGS . . 278

HOUSE AND GROUP OF NATIVES, PADANG HIGH

LANDS ....... 282

GROUP OF NATIVES NEAR LAKE MANINDJAU,

SUMATRA ...... 29O

NATIVE HOUSES, PAJAKOMBO, SUMATRA . . 296

A BALEI, PADANG HIGHLANDS .... 3OO

NATIVE HOUSE, PADANG HIGHLANDS . . . 306

THE ISLAND HILL, FORT DE KOCK, SUMATRA . 3IO

A RICE-BARN, PADANG HIGHLANDS . . -314

MARKET DAY IN A CENTRAL SUMATRAN VILLAGE . 318

THE ENTRANCE WALLS, GAP OF HARAU, CENTRAL

SUMATRA 322
 ILLUSTRATIONS xvii
FACING
PACK

A NATIVE HOUSE, PADANG HIGHLANDS . . 326

CENTRAL SUMATRAN WOMEN .... 330

UNLOADING CATTLE, SUMATRAN COAST . . 336

SUMATRAN RAILWAY TRAIN AT KWALA LANGSA . 336

SKETCH MAP AT END

Java and Her Neighbours
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER
HISTORICAL SKETCH

THE splendid island possessions of Holland in

the Far East, known officially as Nether
lands India and more familiarly as the Dutch East
Indies, stretch across the tropical waters of the
Indian Ocean and the Pacific from South-eastern
Asia to Northern Australia, forming a sort of
broken, irregular belt, the length of which from
west to east is greater than the distance between
London and Siberia or that which separates New
York and San Francisco. This vast colonial
empire, to which Multatuli1 has given the pecu
liarly graceful and appropriate name of Insulinde
(Island India), has an area of approximately
587,000 square miles,—about forty-six times that
of Holland,—and a population of over 40,500,000,
roughly seven times that of the mother-country.
Included within its bounds are the great islands
'The nom de plume of E. D. Decker, an ex-official and the
author of "Max Havelaar."
1
2 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

of Sumatra, Java, and Celebes, over three-quarters

of Borneo, the Moluccas, and an infinity of smaller
islands and island groups of the Malay Archipelago,
in addition to the western half of the enormous
island of New Guinea.
Of the origin and early history of these islands
practically nothing is known with definite cer
tainty, but from a study of the flora and fauna,
the sea depths and coral-reef formations^ the
normal geology and the manifestations of ab
normal disturbance by earthquake and eruption,
scientists have come to an almost unanimous
conclusion that at some time in the past ages the
seas of the Archipelago were occupied by two great
bodies of land,—to the west, by an extension of
the mainland of Asia, to the east, by "an island
continent,—and that both of these, in the course
of time, either as the result of violent convulsions
of the earth or by gradual subsidence, sank below
sea-level and were swallowed up by the seas, leav
ing their mountains and highlands as the islands
which we know at the present day.
Wallace,1 the great naturalist and probably
the best authority on this subject, is responsible
for the opinion that Java, Borneo, and Sumatra
were all of them once parts of the Asiatic main
land and became separate islands in the order
named. He further suggests that later elevations
and depressions may have reunited these islands
1 Died November, 1913.
 INTRODUCTORY 3

and once again separated them, and adds: "The

whole of the islands eastwards beyond Java and
Borneo, with the exception, perhaps, of Celebes,
essentially form a part of a former Australian or
Pacific continent, although some of them may
never have been actually joined to it. This con
tinent must have been broken up not only before
the western islands were separated from Asia,
but probably before the extreme south-eastern
portion of Asia was raised above the waters of
the ocean. . . . Celebes must be one of the oldest
parts of the Archipelago. It probably dates from
a period not only anterior to that when Borneo,
Java, and Sumatra were separated from the conti
nent but from that still more remote epoch when
the land that now constitutes these islands had
not yet risen from the sea."
Our knowledge of the origin and early history
of the inhabitants is unfortunately hardly more
certain than that of the islands themselves. * There
are innumerable native traditions and legends
which have come down from past generations by
word of mouth, and there are the written " babads"
or chronicles of the Malays, which purport to be
authentic records, but in each case the semi-
mythological, fabulous character of the pretended
history is sufficiently self-evident to make it of
1 In the miocene or upper pliocene strata of Java there have
been found fossil remains of the Pithecanthropus erectus or
"missing link."
4 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

little real value. It is pretty well determined that

the Dyaks, Bataks, and other primitive savages
of the interior are the present-day representatives
of the earliest inhabitants,—the Indonesians, as
we find it convenient to call them. About
the beginning of the Christian era successive
waves of migration, which continued for several
centuries, brought to the more accessible islands
thousands of refugees or emigrants from the main
land of Asia, Hindus from India, and Indo-Chinese
from the lands farther to the east. Those of the
aborigines who came in contact with the new
comers met the usual fate of an inferior people,
and were killed or driven to the more remote
districts, or else remained and soon lost their racial
identity by intermarriage and the adoption of the
ways of their conquerors. The Arabs and Chinese
traders, even in these early days, seem to have
visited the islands in considerable numbers and
mixed freely with the other races, adding still
further complications to the ethnological tangle.
The name Malay, which to-day is generally
used in a broad way to cover all the brown-skinned
peoples of the Archipelago, even including the
wild tribes and every conceivable strain and
mixture of Asiatic blood, was quite possibly at
one time the specific name for a large body of
emigrants from the same region of the mainland,
who settled in Sumatra and for some centuries
succeeded in retaining their racial individuality
 INTRODUCTORY 5

and impressed their name and customs on an

ever-increasing number of vanquished or submis
sive tribes. These Proto-Malays, if we may
judge from the language and literature of their
descendants, came from Central Asia, by way of
India, perhaps by way of the Malay Peninsula,
but no certain statement can be made as to
when, why, or how these people came to make so
extraordinary a journey.
The Hindus, who migrated to the islands in
immense numbers during the first thousand years
of our era, settled more especially in Java and
Sumatra. They seem to have been an enterpris
ing and artistic people, of sufficient warlike
strength to establish themselves in a position of
control on these alien shores, but lacking the
stamina to defend their religion or their states
against the subsequent onslaughts of the Ma
hometans. Many ruins of magnificent temples
built by the Hindu Buddhists and Brahmins in the
plains and table-lands of Central Java still remain,
the sole memorials of their vanquished civilization
in the land of its earlier conquests.
In the fourteenth century, Mahometanism was
almost at its zenith in Asia and its missionaries
were overrunning the Far East. Arabs and other
Mahometans thronged to the islands to spread
the precepts of the Koran, and converts were
imbued with an almost fanatic ferocity in their
zeal to extend the new faith. By persuasion or
6 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

by force the north coast of Java was soon pro

selyted to Islam, and one by one the Hindu princes
of the interior yielded to the fiery followers of
Allah and his prophet. In 1478, Madjapahit, the
capital of the great Javanese feudal empire of the
Hindus, fell and the Hindu supremacy in the Insu-
linde was at the beginning of the end. A son of
the last Rajah of Madjapahit by a discarded wife
struck the final blow. A convert to the Mahome
tan faith, he became the avenger of his mother's
wrongs, and rebelling against the authority of his
father, defeated him decisively in battle and set
up his own former fiefdom of Demak as an inde
pendent Mahometan state. Demak grew steadily
in power and importance and ultimately became
the empire of Mataram, the precursor of the native
"principalities" of present-day Java. At the
time of the fall of Madjapahit its Rajah claimed
as vassals a majority of the rulers or chiefs of the
neighbouring islands to the east, but the alle
giance of these was hardly more than formal, and
in a very few years Mahometan Sultans had re
placed the Hindu Rajahs throughout all the
Insulinde, and Mahometanism had become the
religion of all the natives of the Archipelago, with
the exception of the wild tribes and a few Hindus
who had remained true to their faith and taken
refuge in the forests and mountains. Even to-day
we find the descendants of these few courageous
Hindus in the Tenggri mountaineers of East
 INTRODUCTORY 7

Java and the Balinese of the near-by island of

Bali.
Thirty odd years after the fall of Madjapahit,
the arrival of the Portuguese opened a new chapter
in the history of the Indies, and the first of which
we have reliable information,—the chapter of
European discovery and conquest. Before enter
ing upon this let us go back a few years and see
how it came to pass that Europeans came to
these far-off shores, for the story of the search for
the Indies and the era of the great discoveries is
one of particular interest and an important part
of the history of the world of modern times.
For many centuries the Indies had been known
to Europe in a vague, hazy way as the home of
spices, precious- stones, rich fabrics, and costly
woods, all of which merchandise found its way by
sea and land to Balsun on the Persian Gulf or
Mocha on the Red Sea, thence by camel caravan to
the coast of Asia Minor or Palestine or to the port
of Alexandria, for a final distribution throughout
Europe by overland routes from Constantinople
or to the various Mediterranean ports by the
ships of the Moors (all Mahometans were so
called indiscriminately) and later by those of the
Genoese and Venetians. The Crusades brought
Europe into still closer contact with the riches of
the East, and the wealth of the Saracens awakened
many an envious thought in the minds of the
Christian princes and the more adventurous of

"
8 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

their subjects. The cessation of active hostilities

in Palestine was followed by the despatch of several
European missions to the courts of various Asiatic
rulers, and a number of venturesome travellers,
among others the famous Marco Polo, undertook
the long and dangerous overland journey to Cen
tral and Eastern Asia in pursuit of knowledge and
fortune. Polo returned to Europe towards the
close of the thirteenth century with a marvellous
account of his adventures at the court and in the
service of the Great Khan of Cathay (the China
of to-day) and glowing tales of the unlimited wealth
and magnificence of the oriental potentates with
whom he had met. Later travellers corroborated
the almost incredible reports of Polo and expati
ated on the great profits to be derived from a direct
trade with the countries of the Far East, but
unfortunately there were insuperable obstacles
in the way of accomplishing the. desired end.
The overland route was, at this time, in the
hands of Arabs and other Mahometans who would
be sure to resent forcibly any occidental intrusion
on their established preserves and monopolies,
and of the sea route nothing was known except in
the form of a vague tradition that in ancient times
the ships of the Phoenicians had discovered a way
to the Indies by sailing out of the Mediterranean
to the west. The western world had distinctly
retrograded in geographical knowledge as in art
and literature since the close of the classic era,
 INTRODUCTORY 9

and the old maps of Strabo and Eratosthenes,

though rarely consulted, were still far superior
to the charts of the Christian cartographers who
succeeded them. In this lack of knowledge and
threatened by the fear of capture by the Moors
so soon as their vessels should have left the pro
tection of the European coasts, it is easy to under
stand that monarchs and merchants alike were
slow to offer financial backing to so hazardous a
venture as an attempt to reach the Indies by water.
As a matter of fact, if we except the voyages of
the Norsemen to Greenland, no European ships
ventured beyond the Mediterranean and the
waters of the Atlantic adjacent to the European
coast till well along in the fifteenth century, when
the Moors, although still in possession of a portion
of the Lusitanian Peninsula, were losing ground
in Western Europe and being constantly attacked
by the white nations in their strongholds on the
north coast of Africa.
Prince Henry of Portugal, a man of whom we
rarely hear, but one to whom the world of modern
discovery owes an incalculable debt, makes his
first appearance on the page of history as the suc
cessful commander of an expedition against the
North African Moors early in the fifteenth century.
During this campaign Prince Henry became im
pressed with the fact that the power and wealth
of the Moors were largely due to their control of
the spice trade with the Indies and to their mono
io JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

poly of the African slave-trade, both of which

turn resulted from their ability to control the
seas, not so much by reason of superior ships,
men, or equipments as by a superiority in geogra
phical knowledge and a greater proficiency in the
art or science of navigation. Returning to Por
tugal with a keen realization of the importance of
"sea power" and determined to make of his native
country the first maritime power of Europe, this
far-sighted prince at once bent all his energies to
the accomplishment of his herculean task. Maps
and charts and books on navigation and travel
were collected from all over Europe, schools were
founded for the education of mariners, ship-build
ing was encouraged, and expeditions to explore
the great unknown seas to the west and south
were financed and otherwise assisted.
Among the first results of this enterprise were
the discovery of the Azores and the Madeiras and
the establishment of trading-posts on the west
coast of Africa, and although the "father of dis
coveries" did not five to see the full fruition of his
plans, his fellow-countrymen, before his death in
1460, were already enjoying the rich pecuniary
benefits of the African slave-trade and more than
able to hold their own on the sea with any of the
nations of the world.
The subsequent expansion of the Portuguese
dominion is a striking example of the influence of
sea power on history. By 1460 the Portuguese
 Photo by the Author
NATIVE TYPES, BATAVIA

AN OUTDOOR MEAL
ieo
 INTRODUCTORY II

had reconnoitred the west coast of Africa to a

point south of Cape Verde; in 1487, their ships
reached and rounded the Cape of Good Hope (so
named from the hope that the last obstacle had
been passed on the sea route to the Indies); in
1498, the "good hope" materialized and a fleet
under Vasco da Gama anchored off Calicut on the
west coast of the peninsula of Hindustan ; in 1 509,
with one foot planted firmly in Africa and the
other in India, another step eastward was taken
and an expedition was sent across the Bay of
Bengal, and Malacca, the Malay capital on the
Malay Peninsula, captured and garrisoned. In
1510-12, Sumatra and Java were visited, columns
of discovery were set up at various points in the
Moluccas or Spice Islands, and the entire Insulinde
was at the mercy of the Portuguese.
In the meantime, while the Portuguese were
still blocked by the continent of Africa in their ad
vance to the East, the Spanish (under Columbus),
sailed across the Atlantic in an effort to reach the
Indies by a westward route, and in 1492 and the
years immediately subsequent the flag of Ferdi
nand and Isabella was raised over the West Indies
and the mainland of the western hemisphere, in
the temporary delusion that these were the East
Indies and the mainland of Asia. For the next
few years Spain was fully occupied with the
exploration and exploitation of her new possessions
in the Americas, and Portugal, as we have seen,
12 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

was equally busied with a similar work in Africa

and India. In the interests of peace an agreement
had been made by the kings of the two nations,
and ratified by a bull or edict of Pope Alexander
VI., which provided that Spain should confine her
activities to a sphere to the west of an imaginary
line in the Atlantic somewhat west of the Portu
guese islands1 and that Portugal should limit hers
to regions to the east of this line. Under this
agreement the two great rivals in the field of
discovery pursued the prosperous tenor of their
respective ways till 1522, when trouble came from
a most unexpected source,—the arrival in the
East Indies of a Spanish expedition from the
direction of America.
Ferdinand Magellan, a Portuguese adventurer
who had acquired some knowledge of the Indies
and of eastern seas in voyages under the flag of
his native land, disgruntled at his indifferent
treatment by the King of Portugal, shifted his
allegiance to the King of Spain and made an
amazing suggestion to his new sovereign, declaring
his belief that the Spice Islands and the rest of the
Indies could be reached by way of the western
ocean and the Americas. If this were so, Asia
was as much within the sphere of Spain as within
that of Portugal, under the Tordesillas agreement,
and Spain was fully entitled to share with Por
tugal the rights of trade and colonization in. this
1 The Azores, etc.
 INTRODUCTORY 13

vast region. Charles V. was quick to recognize

the value of the suggestion, and in 15 19 Magellan
set sail from Seville in command of a Spanish
expedition bound for the Indies by way of the
western seas. Crossing the Atlantic, following the
coast of America to the south, discovering and
passing through the straits which still bear his
name, cruising up the west coast, and at last strik
ing boldly across the unknown Pacific, the great
navigator eventually brought up at the Ladrone
Islands, and a few months later lost his life in an
encounter with natives in the Philippine Islands,
of which he had taken possession in the name of
the King of Spain. In 1522, the two remaining
ships of the fleet of four which had sailed from
Seville reached the long-sought Moluccas and the
assertion of Magellan was established. The Por
tuguese were considerably upset at the arrival of
the Spanish ships, but allowed them to repair their
one seaworthy ship, the " Victoria," and depart for
Spain with the eighteen survivors of the original
force. The ' ' Victoria ' ' returned to Europe by way
of the Cape of Good Hope and was thus the first
ship to make a complete circumnavigation of the
world.
As an immediate result of the discoveries of the
expedition under Magellan, the King of Spain
claimed, by right of discovery, the Philippines and
other groups visited by his fleet, and in addition
insisted on an equal right with the Portuguese to
14 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

trade in the Spice Islands and in other parts of

the Indies. Dissensions arose at once, and an
amicable solution of the matter was not reached
till 1529 when, under the terms of a new treaty,
Spain agreed, for a liberal money compensation
and the recognition of her rights of ownership in
the Philippines, to leave the Portuguese undis
turbed in the sphere of their discoveries and (with
the exception of the Philippines) to limit her own
activities in this quarter to regions east of a line
running north and south through the mid-Pacific.
For nearly half a century after this settlement
Portugal enjoyed a practical monopoly of the
spice trade and remained unquestioned mistress
of the direct sea route between Europe and the
Indies. Her control of the slave-trade and her
lion's share in the foreign trade of Africa and Asia
brought her ever-increasing prosperity, and Lisbon
became the richest port of Europe. In her posses
sions beyond the seas, she took advantage of this
period to strengthen her position and established
trading-posts, built "factories" or warehouses,
constructed forts and installed garrisons for the
protection of her traders and their wares from the
marauding attacks of Chinese and Malay pirates,
and entered into treaty relations with the native
Sultans or—and this far more often—reduced
these native rulers to submission by force of arms.
It is interesting to note in this connection that in
the Portuguese struggle with the Moluccans in
 INTRODUCTORY 15

J537 the Portuguese commander Galvao offered

to settle the difficulties by personal engagement
with the Sultans of Gilolo and of Batjan in single
combat. During this period Spain held to the
Treaty of 1529, and the other European nations
were not yet of sufficient strength on the sea to
warrant their intrusion in regions so far from home.
The pirates and freebooters of Europe were in
general more profitably employed in planning and
executing raids in the Spanish Main on the home
ward bound treasure-ships of the Spanish laden
with the wealth of Peru.
Towards the end of this sixteenth century a
series of momentous events in Western Europe
changed the whole complexion of the East Indian
situation. From 1 572-1 609, the Dutch Republic
fought to free themselves from Spain. In 1580,
Portugal was unceremoniously gobbled up by
Spain, and eight years later the sea power of the
peoples of the Iberian Peninsula met a crushing
blowin the destruction of the " Invincible Armada,"
the flower of their combined fleets. The English
and Dutch were now in a position to contest the
supremacy of the seas in all parts of the world,
and England at least, stimulated by recent succes
ses on the Spanish Main and in European waters,
was already casting greedy glances at the Latin
possessions in Asia.
In 1580, Francis Drake, the bold English free
booter nicknamed the "Master Thief of the
16 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Unknown World," returned home from a voyage

around the world, a feat unaccomplished since the
days of the Magellan expedition a half-century
before. Drake spent some time in the Spice
Islands during his voyage and took advantage
of the native antipathy to the Portuguese to make
a treaty with one of the Moluccan Sultans, the
ruler of Ternate, which provided for the sale of
cloves to the English. This act, in absolute dero
gation of the monopolistic rights claimed by the
Portuguese, was strongly resented and was made
the subject of a violent but unfruitful protest to
the English Queen, Elizabeth. A few years later,
in 1 59 1, an English fleet met with a hostile recep
tion by the Portuguese at Malacca.
Such incidents as these simply served to em
phasize the weakness of the Latins, and thereafter
their rights and wrongs were rarely, if ever, con
sidered seriously by their rivals. In 1594, the clos
ing of the port of Lisbon to the ships of the Dutch
put an end to the carrying trade which the lat
ter had for some time enjoyed between the Por
tuguese port and the towns of Northern Europe,
and forced them to seek fresh fields of endeavour.
As we have seen, Drake had forced the secret of
the Spanish route to the Indies, and now at this
psychological moment the secret of the Portuguese
route came into the hands of the Dutch, Cornelius
Houtman having succeeded in obtaining at Lisbon
copies of the jealously guarded Portuguese charts.
 INTRODUCTORY 17

In 1595, the first Dutch expedition to the

Indies set sail under Houtman. There were
four ships in all, the two largest being of four
hundred tons burden each and the smallest of
only sixty. The numerical strength of the ex
peditionary force was about 250 men. The little
expedition had a desperate struggle with bad seas
and the scurvy, but finally, after a voyage of nine
months, sighted Sumatra, and a few weeks later
came to anchor off Bantam on the west coast of
Java. Portuguese at once boarded the ships to
inquire the intentions of the Dutch, but being
informed that the expedition was come in search
of peaceful trade they seemed satisfied and allowed
the Dutch to make a treaty with the Bantamites
without raising objection. A little later, sounding
operations by the Dutch and intrigues by the
Portuguese brought on hostilities with the natives,
and Houtman himself was captured and held for
ransom. After his release the fleet sailed on to
Jacatra, a palisaded town of three thousand houses
(later the site of Batavia), and then along the
north coast as far as the islands of Madoera
(Madura) and Bali. This expedition reached
its home port on the North Sea after an absence
of over two years.
A second expedition (six ships and 560 men)
started within a year and arrived off Bantam in
about seven months. Half of this fleet returned
to Europe with a full cargo; the other half cruised
18 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

about the Moluccas, establishing trading stations

and leaving men in charge of them. A third fleet
attempted the route of Magellan, but was forced
to return by stress of bad weather. Other expedi
tions followed soon and the Spanish became suffi
ciently alarmed to send a squadron from the
Philippines to capture these bold Dutch merchant
men. As nothing was accomplished by the
Spanish fleet the Dutch became bolder than ever,
and the number of their ships engaged in the new
trade increased steadily year by year.
In 1602, the Dutch East Indian traders com
bined and secured a patent for a new company, the
"Oest Indische Compagnie, "capitalized at 660,000
livres. This company corresponded almost exactly
to the English "East India Company" formed at
about the same time. From the grant of its
original patent to the time of its failure and disso
lution in 1796, although purely commercial in its
first purpose, it was obliged to engage in warfare
and to assume other functions of a governmental
nature, for native opposition to the company's
trade had to be overcome with force and the result
ing conflicts frequently led to the acquisition of
native territory or the appointment of Dutch
agents at the native courts. The "Chamber of
17," the executive committee of the company,
was represented in the Indies by a governor-general
and council, backed by a small body of troops and
a few small war-ships.
 INTRODUCTORY 19

The English and the Dutch East India com

panies for a few years worked in a sort of forced
harmony against their common enemy, but wher
ever the allies succeeded in ridding themselves of
the Latins for good and all, the harmony soon
became discord, and the history of the Dutch-
English relations in the Indies during the early
seventeenth century is a tiresome repetition of
petty jealousies, intrigues, fights, treaties made
and broken, reprisals, and accusations. Towards
the middle of the century Portugal once more
became independent of Spain, and in this division
of the Latin strength the Dutch found and used to
good purpose the opportunity to rid themselves of
the few outstanding remains of Portuguese power in
the Far East. The Dutch were at this time the
most powerful maritime people of Europe and till
well past the middle of the next century they re
mained by virtue of their sea power, in full control
of the situation in the Insulinde. The wars of the
reformation and restoration and the protection
of her colonial and trade interests nearer home
kept England from any general attempt to seize
the Dutch possessions in the eastern seas. During
the last half of the seventeenth century and after
1688, when William, Prince of Orange, ascended
the throne of England, the Dutch and English
were allies for many years, and the Dutch were
allowed to continue their work of trade and colo
nization in the Insulinde without interference.
20 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Towards the end of the eighteenth century

came another change in the status quo. The
armies of the new Republic of France had marched
into the Netherlands, and the new Dutch govern
ment, the Batavian Republic, had allied itself
with France, and by so doing had become the
enemy of Great Britain and the other powers
that had formed the "coalition" against the
French. Great Britain was by this time stronger
on the seas than the Dutch and nothing stood in
the way of her seizing the Dutch possessions in the
East. Ceylon, Malacca, and other mile-stones
on the highway to the Insulinde were accordingly
taken (in 1795-96), and the Dutch were forced
to concede to the British the right of free trade
throughout the Indies.
Under Napoleon I. the Netherlands were an
nexed to the French Empire (18 10), and within a
few months thereafter British expeditions seized
the Moluccas and other parts of the Insulinde,
drove the French troops from Java, and established
the British rule, with the able administrator
Stamford Raffles as Governor-General. With the
final defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo a readjust
ment of the territories of the great European powers
became necessary, and under the rulings of the
Congress of Vienna Great Britain restored to the
Dutch their former possessions in the islands,
retaining the settlements on the Malay Peninsula.
Since the Anglo-Dutch Treaty of 1824 the Dutch
 INTRODUCTORY 21

East Indies have remained a crown colony of the

Netherlands. The British finally relinquished
all claims in Sumatra in 1871-72, and in 1895, in a
division of New Guinea, Holland received the
western half of this enormous island.
During the long period of Dutch occupation the
power of the native Mahometan Sultans has been
gradually weakened by wars and agreements till
to-day the Dutch are in control of the whole of
Java, a large part of Sumatra, Dutch Borneo,
Celebes, and practically all the inhabited lands
of the smaller islands of the Archipelago, with the
exception of part of Timor. To accomplish this
result it has been necessary to exercise extreme
patience, to put down numerous rebellions, and in
several cases to fight expensive and exhausting
wars. The Padri and the Achin wars in Sumatra ;
the Dipo Negoro rebellion in Java ; the Bali, Boni,
and Lombok wars are among the best known of
many conflicts, in which Holland has sunk mil
lions of dollars and lost at least a million lives.
Even to-day a colonial army of over 30,000 men
is required to ensure peaceful conditions in the
Insulinde, and there are immense regions in the
interior of Sumatra, Borneo, and New Guinea
where the Dutch rule is either totally unknown or
merely nominal, but conditions are steadily im
proving, and the future of the Insulinde is likely
to prove even more prosperous than its present.
During the first half of the nineteenth century
22 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

there was doubtless much to be desired in the

JWRh treatment of the natives, but since 1870 or
the%abouts the most flagrant evils have been done
away with, and the Dutch rule of the present day-
is probably as just and wise as that to be found in
the colonial possessions of any other of the great
powers. In their administration of the Insulinde
the Dutch have from the first preserved so far as
possible the system in vogue under the former
native rulers. The religion has not been inter
fered with, the Malay language has been encour
aged as the lingua franca of the Archipelago, taught
in the government schools and used in relations
between the government and the people, and the
" adat " or ancient customary law has been upheld.
Under the rule of the Sultans all real property
rights vested in the rulers, as well as the right to
engage in foreign trade and other rights generally
appropriated by despotic princes. Village com
munities or "dessas" held lands by favour of the
rulers, and the village chief apportioned these
lands among the people under them to be worked
by the individuals. In return both rulers and
dessas claimed a certain proportion of the labour
of the individuals (sometimes as much as one day
in seven) upon certain lands reserved from this
distribution, this corvee taking the place of taxes.
Village chiefs were chosen by the people, subject
to the approval of the powers above, and a group
of dessas formed a "district" under a "wedono,"
H
X
a
Q
X
a
x
x
u
 INTRODUCTORY 23

appointed by the ruler of a group of districts.

Under the Dutch the whole colony was divided
into "residencies" or groups of districts with
native regents at their heads who ruled in accord
ance with the "advice" of Dutch Residents placed
at their sides to "assist" them.
From the corvee and the system of "forced
cultivation" which followed as a corollary, even
more than from the opportunities for graft and
favouritism in the distribution of community
lands, resulted most disastrous conditions for the
peasantry. Marshal Daendals, universally known
as the "iron marshal" from his cruel, inflexible
disposition, was the ruler of Java under Napoleon.
In his anxiety to build military roads, this able
officer made extreme uses of the corvee, requiring
so much labour from the natives that in some
cases they were forced to neglect their food crops
and became the victims of the resulting famines,
dying by the thousands. Daendals was also the
first to introduce the obnoxious system of forced
cultivation, obliging, for example, all village com
munities with lands suitable to the cultivation of
coffee-trees to plant a certain large number of
trees and in due time to give to the government
two-fifths of the crop, ready for market, the re
mainder going to the cultivators but its sale being
allowed only at a price fixed by the government
and usually far below the proper market value.
Under the British occupation Raffles partially
24 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

did away with the corvee and with forced de

liveries, but they were resuscitated on the return
of the Dutch, without, however, proving success
ful financially. By 1833 the Javanese deficit had
become a serious detriment to Holland, herself
in an impoverished condition. The Dutch had
continued Raffles' innovation of leasing land to the
natives in return for a land tax, partly payable in
produce, partly in money, and made use of the
corvee also, but to no avail. At this juncture
Van den Bosch, Governor-General and later
Colonial Minister, instituted a new system under
which the land rent was continued and, in addition,
a fifth of the lands of the natives was taken for
the government and the long-suffering native was
required to cultivate for the government on this
land, coffee, tobacco, tea, and other valuable
products. To make matters even worse the
government farmed out this land and the forced
labour to private contractors. This iniquitous
exploitation of the natives brought to Holland
from the Indies each year a surplus of some twelve
million dollars gold. The condition of the natives
under the original methods of the Van den Bosch
system went steadily from bad to worse, and finally
the abominations of its practical working were
written up in a book, "Max Havelaar,"1 which
stirred the sympathies of thousands of Europeans,
including many Hollanders, to such a degree that
1 Published i860.
 INTRODUCTORY 25

within a few years the system was radically modi

fied, though it did not entirely disappear till within
the present generation. Forced cultivation of
coffee is still continued in a few districts of the
Insulinde, but free labour is now almost universal ;
income and capitation taxes have replaced the
earlier spoliations, and lands may be leased by
the natives for their sole and unincumbered use.
Under the new conditions the native population
has increased in rapid strides, private capital
has taken advantage of the opportunity to interest
itself in the various agricultural industries of the
islands, and the Insulinde bids fair to become a
model colony from every point of view.
 CHAPTER I

GENERALITIES—SINGAPORE AND THE VOYAGE TO

JAVA

THE very names, Java, Sumatra, Celebes, and

the Moluccas, conjure up in the imagination
delightful visions of palm-fringed, coral-sanded
shores, caressed by balmy breezes and redolent
with fragrance ; of dense forests, great plantations,
and awe-inspiring volcanoes. They recall many
a happy hour of childhood, when we cruised over
the eastern seas with Sindbad the Sailor or shared
the thrilling adventures of some more modern
hero as he triumphed over a myriad of gruesome
perils, from Malay pirates and head-hunters to
devil-fish, orang-utans, and huge serpents. They
bring up vivid recollections of the wonderful tales
of Marco Polo, Odoricus, and Mandeville, the
great European travellers, and refresh our recol
lections of the era of discovery and of the bold
adventurers and navigators, Columbus, Vasco da
Gama, Albuquerque, Magellan, Francis Drake, and
others, who risked their lives in efforts to tear the
veil of mystery from these regions of wealth and
26
 SINGAPORE AND VOYAGE TO JAVA . 27

fascination and throw open to European trade

and colonization this new-old world of Insulinde
or island India. Those of us who are less imagi
native, and more inclined to live in the present
than in the past, are perhaps more apt to be re
minded of "old government Java," Sumatran
tobacco, and sugar, or of cloves, nutmegs, mace,
cinnamon, peppers, and other spices.
To one who has visited the islands the names
have a world of other associations as well. They
stand for an earthly paradise, a region of never-
failing delight to the lover of natural beauty, and
the home of all the splendours and rarities of
tropical vegetation. In this marvellous Insulinde
there are strange and rare flora and fauna to
attract the botanist and zoologist, a wide range of
volcanic and structural phenomena to interest
the geologist, knotty racial and governmental
problems to absorb the ethnologist and student
of colonial administration, a number of ruined
temples to occupy the attention of the archaeolo
gist, a variety of big game to tempt the sportsman,
and on every hand novel scenes and objects to
busy the collector, photographer, and sightseer.
With so many allurements one would expect to
find the Insulinde overrun with tourists and
travellers, but with the exception of Java the
islands are rarely visited by others than the Dutch
and a few business men and concession hunters.
One reason for this is the position of the islands,
28 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

—several hundred miles off the beaten track be

tween India and China, and so near the equator.
Another reason may be found in the fact that
until quite recently the Dutch were inclined to
discourage foreign travellers who sought to wander
beyond the near vicinity of the cities of Java and
the immediate neighbourhood of a few of the
island ports. Strict passport regulations were
enforced with unnecessary rigidity and a super
abundance of red-tape, correct information as to
communications and accommodations was difficult
to obtain, and practically no news found its way
from the Insulinde to the outer world, except of
cholera or fever epidemics, native outbreaks or
volcanic eruptions.
Of late years the attitude of the authorities has
undergone a complete volte-face, and to-day it is
possible to travel safely, comfortably, and agree
ably throughout the civilized part of this great
colonial possession. Passports are now easily
obtainable ; a government tourist bureau has been
opened at Batavia, where information may be
had gratis concerning every conceivable matter,
from railways and hotels to game regulations and
health precautions; publicity bureaus have been
opened in Europe and America with the object
of interesting travellers in the Insulinde, and
hotel and carriage charges have been regulated
by the government and established at moderate
rates. In the comfortable little steamers of an
 SINGAPORE AND VOYAGE TO JAVA 29

inter-island line1 even the farthest distant corners

of the Archipelago may be reached, and there are
approximately three thousand miles of railway
and steam tram in Java and over six hundred in
Sumatra, besides hundreds of miles of fine roads
and many more of trails available to equestrians.
The only outstanding obstacle in the way of a
would-be traveller to the Insulinde is the im
mensity of distance that separates the islands
from Europe and America. To reach Singapore,
in the Straits Settlements, the natural point
of departure for Batavia, Java, a sea voyage of
about a month is necessary from London or San
Francisco, and at Singapore we are still some five
hundred miles from Batavia.
In selecting the time for one's visit to the islands
it is well to remember that in these regions, where
the cold winters of Europe and the United States
are unknown and the thermometer varies but
slightly during the entire year, the four seasons of
our temperate zone are practically non-existent
and in their place there are two "monsoons" or
five-month periods, each marked by the prevalence
of a wind from a particular quarter. Of these,
the bad, wet, or west monsoon begins in Novem
ber and continues till late in March, and the good,
dry, or south-east monsoon includes roughly the
months from April to October. During the former
the world of vegetation is undoubtedly at its best,
1 The Koninklijke Paketvaart Maatschappij.
30 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

but the pleasure of travel is somewhat marred by

the discomforts and uncertainties attendant upon
the heavy rains; during the latter the heat of the
sun's rays is more intense, the atmosphere is apt
to be hazy, and distant views lose their sharpness
of outline. The short periods of changing mon
soon are uncertain in weather conditions, and high
winds and rough seas are usual. The worst
season for a visit is probably October and
early November, when the germs of fever are
neither baked to harmlessness by the scorching
rays of the sun nor drowned by the tropical
rains and exert their strongest influence for
harm.
Unfortunately we cannot always arrange our
travel dates so as to enjoy the best climatic condi
tions in the lands to be visited, and when, after
years of planning and anticipation, it became
possible for me to spend three or four months in
the Insulinde, there was no alternative but to
leave Hongkong in the typhoon season, arrive in
Java at perhaps the worst time of the whole year,
and do all my travelling during the "bad" mon
soon. As we steamed out of Hongkong harbour
typhoon signals were hoisted on shore, and for the
greater part of the week's voyage through the
China Sea to Singapore we encountered bad
weather and rough water. Once arrived we
learned that the steamer for Java with which we
had expected to connect had been sunk in colli
 SINGAPORE AND VOYAGE TO JAVA 31

sion and that we must wait over for the through

mail-boat from Holland.
Although Singapore is generally scornfully
ignored by travellers on their hurried way to the
more interesting ports of India or China, this
thoroughly cosmopolitan city is deserving of more
than a passing glance and on closer acquaintance
develops many unexpected sources of amusement
and interest. A first impression of Singapore is
apt to be one of puzzled surprise, for here in this
largest city of all Malaya, a town of 260,000 in
habitants, the Malays themselves seem to be a
negligible factor, and there is hardly a visible
suggestion of their presence. The architecture is
either Chinese or European, the bulk of the popu
lation seems to be Chinese, and even the Japanese
and the Klings are more in evidence than the
insignificant representation of pure natives. To
be sure, there are Malay boatmen to be found in
the river and harbour, Malay diving-boys at the
docks, and Malay drivers on the hacks, and we may
see barefoot Malays playing "soccer" football on
the sea-front opposite Raffles Hotel or witness
marvellous renditions of Shakespearean drama by
Malay actors at their theatre, but these genuine
natives are but a drop in the bucket as compared
with the "Straits Chinese," who make up over
three-quarters of the population.
It is in fact to the British and the Chinese that
the prosperity and growth of this Malay city are
32 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

wholly due. This "Gate of the East," the entre-

p6t of Malayan and Siamese trade, the great sea
junction of the far-eastern tropics, was in earlier
days the property of the Malay Sultan of Johore
and, with the remainder of the little island (twenty-
seven miles long by fourteen broad), was ceded
to the British in 1 8 19 at the instigation of Stam
ford Raffles, revered by English children as the
founder of the London "Zoo." Its acquisition
seems to have been intended as an act of protest
on the part of Great Britain against the mono
polistic claims and pretensions of the Dutch. Be
that as it may, Singapore became a free port under
a strong, honest, and just government and was
soon invaded by thousands of Chinese eager to
take advantage of its exceptional opportunities
for money-making. The wisdom of both British
and Chinese has been amply justified by the
present position of the city as one of the greatest
ports of the world in importance and by the
fortunes heaped up by the shrewd business men
from the Middle Kingdom.
Early commercial successes of the Chinese
traders made of Singapore a sort of Chinese El
Dorado, and hordes of Celestials of every trade
and grade have thronged to the Straits in search
of wealth or to escape the oppression of their
despotic home government. To-day Chinese rick-
shawmen and coolies crowd the streets, Chinese
room-boys and waiters are employed in the foreign
 SINGAPORE AND VOYAGE TO JAVA 33

hotels, Chinese clerks and accountants are found

in all the banks and business-houses; the local
tailor-shops, laundries, and photograph galleries
are nearly all owned or run by Chinese; Chinese
contractors, ship-chandlers, dealers in provisions
and other supplies control the labour and material
markets ; and in the handsomest equipages of the
fashionable promenade—in motor-cars, dog-carts,
and victorias—are to be seen the rich Chinese
merchants and their families, clad in richest silks
and the very embodiment of prosperity and
content.
Of the growth and well-being of Singapore one
sees indisputable signs on every hand. In the
roads, off the city proper, enormous moles and break
waters are in process of construction and large
areas of shore are being reclaimed from the sea.
A mile or so to the south, in the neighbourhood
of Tandjong Pagar, the district of the docks, there
is a scene of upheaval and excavation, of bustle
and activity, strikingly suggestive of the great
works in the Panama Canal Zone. Swamp-lands
are being filled in, hills dug away, tracks laid,
wharves, docks, and "go-downs" or warehouses
constructed, in a late attempt to provide ade
quate means and accommodations for handling a
yearly ship tonnage that has already passed the
twenty-five million mark. Still farther from town ,
on near-by islands, modern fortifications are being
hurried to completion, for the passing of the great
34 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Russian armada in 1905 within full view of the

town was an object lesson to the British imperial
authorities and opened their eyes to the value of
Singapore as a naval base and the importance of
equipping it at once to take its proper place in
that splendid line of armoured outposts that mark
the advance of British conquest and commerce
from Gibraltar to Hongkong. One result of the
recent activity in this direction is the prohibi
tion of photography and sketching in town or
harbours without special permit,—a precaution
peculiarly irritating to tourists.
The Dutch mail steamer on which we had taken
passage for Tandjong Priok, the port of Batavia,
arrived on time from Europe, and, sending the
heavy baggage ahead on a bullock-cart in charge
of one of the hotel runners, we bade Raffles Hotel
and its smiling manager good-bye and drove
to the docks in a "ticca-gharry," one of the box
like cabs of India and the Straits. The steamer
was crowded to the last foot with Dutch army
officers and civilian officials, planters, merchants,
their stout wives and numerous children and ser
vants; one American family, a handful of English
and German business men, my two friends and
myself were the only passengers that were not
unmistakably from Holland or her colonies. In
view of the crowded conditions we were fortunate
to secure accommodations and were not inclined
to grumble, but I found it difficult to find positive
u

z
a
 SINGAPORE AND VOYAGE TO JAVA 35

enjoyment in my berth after discovering that the

only source of fresh air, directly over my head,
opened upon a part of the deck occupied by native
servants, who at first seemed to think my sky
light a heaven-sent depository for refuse.
One's first experiences on a Dutch ship in the
tropics are certain to be surprising and entertain
ing, if not amusing, especially if one comes aboard
fresh from the punctilious forms and usages of a
British ship or settlement. First impressions,
however, are by no means the most lasting, and
early feelings of amusement or shock are soon
buried by deeper ones of respect and admiration
for the independence and good sense which have
led our Dutch cousins to do away with so much
of the merely conventional and thoroughly
uncomfortable.
In the matter of dress looks are sacrificed to
comfort, and in social intercourse quasi-aristocratic
aloofness is replaced by democratic good-fellow
ship. During the informal hours of the day the
men wear pyjama suits or "whites" cut high at
the neck to avoid the need of the stiff collar and
unnecessary outer shirt. The women are even
less dressy, attiring themselves in loose, shapeless
garments of the kind known to us as "Mother
Hubbards" or in short, white jackets and straight-
hanging Malay skirts or "sarongs." Corsets are
unusual, stockings sometimes dispensed with, and
foot-gear is of the informal toe-slipper variety. The
36 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

hair is in many styles of half-dress or undress. It

may easily be imagined that this costume, though
tolerably becoming to a beauty, is by no means
improving to the appearance of the stout dowagers
who are in the great majority. The children,
and there are dozens of them, play about bare-
armed and bare-legged, unhampered and unheated
by superfluous clothes. Such is the ordinary bill-
of-dress till the more formal hours. For dinner
and evening the dress approaches more closely
that in vogue in colder climes, but full evening
clothes are rather the exception than the rule.
The daily routine of life on shipboard offers
comparatively little variety the world over, but in
the mid-day meal and the following siesta we found
something quite novel and were at the same time
introduced to two indispensable features of Dutch
colonial life. The first of these, the "rijstafel"
or rice-table, is a feast beside which a Continental
table d'hdte is a mere nibble. It comprises all
the courses of an elaborate lunch and in addition
to the soup, fish, meat-balls, and cold meats,
desserts and fruits, huge portions of rice are served,
in which each mixes, according to individual pre
ference, chutney and curries and other spices and
condiments. After such a Gargantuan repast a
doze or quiet rest for an hour or two is an absolute
necessity, everyone repairs to his cabin, and the
decks are deserted by all but the Malay deck
hands, who lounge lazily about, smoking cigarettes
 SINGAPORE AND VOYAGE TO JAVA 37

and chattering to one another in their soft-sounding

lingo as they make an absurd pretence of cleaning
the brasses or washing the paint. In the evening
the usual shipboard coteries gather for music,
cards, or conversation, and many of the "vrouws"
join their husbands in the smoking-room.
Our steamer having started shortly before mid
night, by the time we came on deck next morning
land was out of sight and the equator far behind
us to the north. During the afternoon the Dutch
island of Banka was sighted, and later the steamer
passed through the straits between Banka and
Billiton. These two islands are of chief import
ance for their coal mines. The latter were for
many years leased to the Chinese by their owner,
the Sultan of Palembang, Sumatra, but in 1740
the Dutch took possession of them and have since
then worked them as a government monopoly at
an enormous profit. The actual miners are some
twenty-nine thousand Chinese coolies, and it is
said that these are underpaid and not too well
treated, though this is probably less true to-day
than formerly. The entire population of Banka
is roughly 115,000 and that of Billiton 37,000,
made up chiefly of Malays of Sumatran ancestry.
Over seas smooth to glassiness we steamed on
through another night and morning, with not even
a sail or a flying-fish to vary the sleep-inspiring
monotony of sky and sea. At last, almost exactly
a day and a half from Singapore, the dim outlines
38 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

of great mountains began to unfold themselves

from the filmy haze ahead. These soon assumed
more definite form, and at the same time a band
of gleaming white on the horizon line below re
solved itself into a stretch of coral beach, and a
fringe of green above revealed itself as the waving
foliage of a row of graceful palm-trees. Gradually,
as we came nearer, small islands covered with
verdure seemed to detach themselves from the
mainland and float towards us. Eventually we
passed these and steered our course towards two
great stone arms that stretched out from the shore
as if to pull us in. These arms are the solid tra
chyte piers, over a mile long, that form the protect
ing walls of the artificial harbour of Tandjong
(cape) Priok, port of Batavia. Between them the
steamer glided slowly along the outer harbour past
gun-boats and a few "tramp" steamers, finally
entering a narrow inner harbour and warping up
to a substantial quay or wharf, behind which, on
the right, through the openings between the go-
downs, could be seen the tracks and rolling stock
of the railroad which connects the port with the
capital.
Tandjong Priok is a modern port. In the early
days ships anchored some six miles to the west,
directly opposite the old city, but a severe erup
tion of the volcano Salak in 1699 brought about a
gradual silting up of this old anchorage with ashes,
mud, and other detritus carried down by the river
 SINGAPORE AND VOYAGE TO JAVA 39

(the Tjiliwong), and in the end a new harbour

became a matter of imperative necessity. The
works at Tandjong Priok were completed and the
new port thrown open in 1886, after a period of
nine years of constructive effort and an outlay of
over ten million dollars gold. Already the new
harbour is proving inadequate for the accommoda
tion of the increasing tonnage and fresh expendi
tures will soon be necessary.
Of all the important sea-ports of Eastern Asia
Tandjong Priok is perhaps the least interesting
to the stranger and the one most lacking in local
colour. As we glanced across the harbour toward
the graving-dock and coaling-station there was
not a single native craft in sight, and in no direc
tion, wheresoever we looked, was there anything
to suggest in any way the propinquity of a great
city. On the quay to which we were tied up the
waiting crowd was made up largely of uniformed
policemen and customs officials, hotel runners and
their attendant satellites, Dutch, half-caste, and
Chinese friends of our fellow-passengers, and Malay
coolies precisely similar to the Malays that we
had already seen at Singapore. Possibly there
were a few more of the knotted head-cloths, per
haps there was a trifle more of colour in the sheet
like body "kains," but certainly in face and figure
the Malay labourer of Java looked a close coun
terpart of his brother of the Straits Settlements.
The prevalence of Dutch uniforms, the compara
4o JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

tive scarcity of Chinese, and the unusual presence

of numbers of self-confident and prosperous half-
castes alone reminded us that we had travelled
over the five hundred miles of sea that separate
Singapore and Batavia.
The landing and transfer to the train for Batavia
were quickly and easily accomplished. The run
ners of the various city hotels swarmed to the first-
cabin deck as soon as communication had been
established with the shore, and in a trice, escorted
by the man of our choice, our baggage on the backs
of his myrmidons, we were hurried to the adjacent
shed of the customs to undergo a somewhat per
functory examination for firearms before being
allowed to pass on to the railway station a few
yards farther. The railroad carries no baggage
free and it is best to leave everything heavy to
the tender mercies of the "mandoer" or head man
of the hotel, who sees to its delivery at one's rooms
in town at the earliest possible moment and at a
minimum of expense.
The ride from the port to the hotel and residen
tial district of the capital, Weltevreden, was one of
rather less than half an hour, but the atmosphere
seemed oppressive after the fresher air of the open
sea, and even the first-class compartment was
stuffy and uncomfortable, filled as it was with
perspiring men and women and peevish babies.
The tracks run through a low, flat, swampy coun
try all the way, for some distance paralleling a
 Photos by Carr M. Thomas
NATIVE SAIL-BOATS, N. JAVA COAST
i ' 1<
 SINGAPORE AND VOYAGE TO JAVA 41

canal or canalized river, along the banks of which

we caught occasional glimpses of picturesque little
"kampongs" or native villages, groups of thatch-
covered cottages half-hidden in groves of bananas
and cocoanut-palms and surrounded by flower
gardens and hedges bright with colour. Here
and there we saw gaily turbaned and skirted grown
people and pretty little children in the garb of the
Garden of Eden, mongrel dogs, quaint two-
wheeled carriages, and carts with arched roofs.
Everywhere the vegetation was luxuriant and the
green of the verdure proved pleasantly soothing
to eyes wearied by the rude glare of the sun on
the tropical sea.
As we neared our destination we passed through
a district of rice-fields and market gardens, then
through larger villages, and finally the suburbs of
the city. When at length, we alighted, we were
in a neighbourhood of handsome villas and broad
avenues. Another representative of the hotel
was on hand to meet us, and we were soon bundled
into a carriage and driven off to our hostelry at
an unconscionable speed which seemed to threaten
imminent destruction. Malay drivers are pro
bably the worst in the world, their ponies spirited
and only half broken,—surely a dangerous com
bination, yet, as a matter of fact, one productive
of very few accidents of a serious character. It was
none the less a relief when we dashed up in safety
to the colonnaded verandah of the Hotel des Indes.
 CHAPTER II

WELTEVREDEN, RESIDENTIAL AND OFFICIAL

BATAVIA

REFRESHED after the hot ride from the port

by a cold bath in a private bath-room and
lounging luxuriously in pyjamas on a "long-
sleeved" or extension-armed chair, on the front
porch or verandah of a comfortable apartment in
the best hotel in the Dutch East Indies, the new
arrival is apt to wax enthusiastic on the subject
of Javanese hostelries and to institute invidious
comparisons to the disparagement of similar
establishments on the mainland of Asia. Cer
tainly no one could ask for more satisfactory
quarters than those of the new part of the Hotel
des Indes. Our rooms opened on a spacious rear
court or garden carpeted with grass, beautified
by fine specimens of the fan-palm and many
flowering plants and shrubs and amply shaded by
a wealth of splendid trees. Each apartment had
its own porch and back-yard and was one
of a row of similar groups of rooms. As this
type of hotel construction is that with which one
42

_
 RESIDENTIAL BATAVIA 43

meets not only in the great caravanseries of the

cities, but in a more or less modified form through
out the entire Insulinde, a few details may not
be amiss.
At the rear of a huge court facing the main
thoroughfare which connects the residential and
the business sections of the city stands a large,
white, central building with a deep front verandah,
on the marble floor of which are a number of the
tin-topped tables of the Parisian boulevards.
Here in the late afternoon one may sit and sip the
popular drink of the Indies,—the "gin bijt" or
gin and bitters. In this main building are the
hotel offices, the reading-room, dining-room, and
kitchens. From either side covered walks lead
to long one-storied galleries or rows of bedrooms
and apartments that stretch far out to the rear
and in front to the road. In the front court of
the Hotel des Indes is the largest known waringin
or banyan tree in all Java, and protected by its
shade are great cages of birds and monkeys. The
apartments of the rear gallery consist, each, of a
covered porch furnished with easy-chairs, desk,
table, electric light, and bamboo Venetian blinds;
a bedroom, aired by open lattice-work near the
ceiling in addition to a door and window, and
provided with a modern washstand with hot and
cold running water, electric lights, and a telephone ;
a rear yard, well walled in and supplied with lines
on which to dry the dampness from one's clothes ;
 44 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

a little bath-room with the usual tank and dipper

(tub-baths are considered unwholesome in the
tropics) ; and a toilet-room with modern plumbing.
For all these comforts and good meals and service
we paid four dollars gold a day.
Daily life in Weltevreden, and one finds it the
part of wisdom to conform in the essentials to
the life of the resident, is quite unlike that of
the British tropical towns and approximates far
more closely that to which we had already become
accustomed on the steamer. One rises soon after
the six o'clock sunrise, takes tea or coffee, the
' morning "mandi" or bath, loafs about till eight
or nine, takes a breakfast of eggs and cold meat,
and makes an early start at shopping or sight
seeing. Returning for rijstafel, that ample meal is
followed by the siesta, and as the heat begins to
diminish the business of the day is renewed.
Later there is a second mandi, a change from
"whites" to darker, more formal apparel and a drive
or an hour at the club before dinner. Dinner at
the hotel is quite a formal affair, and as there is
little to occupy the evening hours the usual late
hour of half-past eight is most satisfactory. The
food and cooking are remarkably good, and there
is a plenty of what a fellow-American has de
signated as "real English-speaking grub." For
drink one takes Scotch whiskey and "polly," light
wine or plain Apollinaris,—"ayer blanda" as it is
called here. The Javanese waiters, like the room
 RESIDENTIAL BATAVIA 45

boys, are quiet and quick and make a favourable

contrast with the consequential, tip-hunting and
often totally incompetent menials of the Occident.
The early hour of rising sends everyone to bed
early and soon after ten nearly all are in their
rooms if not in their beds. Within the mosquito
nettings which enclose the bed there is the usual
tropical lack of blankets and spreads, but besides
the sheets and pillows one finds a mosquito broom
and a great, hard bolster, the arrangement known
to foreigners as a "Dutch wife." This last is a
source of much comfort on a hot night, for placed
beside one it keeps the upper sheet clear of the
body.
I should be giving a wrong impression of hotel
life in Weltevreden if I neglected to say anything
of the animal life. As elsewhere in the tropics,
there are dozens of the harmless little "gekkos"
or house lizards on the walls, birds fly in through
the lattice and build their nests in the ceiling
plates of the drop-lights, winged and wingless
ants are common, and rats are by no means un
known, but the bats, scorpions, centipedes, and
spiders which so often make one's life miserable in
the tropics are seldom seen, and the beds are re
markably free from the smaller animal pests.
Distances in Batavia are great and the damp
heat is not conducive to pedestrianism, but for
tunately public conveyances are plentiful and
inexpensive. Residents of position scorn the
46 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

clumsy steam tram-car and the convenient

"sado,"—the cheaper two-wheeled vehicle gener
ally used by the natives and half-castes,—and
hold fast to the "mylord" or victoria. One of
these more fashionable equipages may be had at
the hotel at a moderate charge,—one dollar
gold to one and a quarter for two hours, or two
to two and a half for six, the higher charge being
made for a vehicle with rubber tires. The mylord
is drawn by two spirited ponies and driven by a
native who makes up for lack of intelligence by
picturesque appearance, and for ignorance of all
matters pertaining to the art of driving by a
fondness for speed and a calm recklessness that
are quite refreshing in a land of restful quiet.
The native driver always expects a tip, or "per
cent." as it is called here, but the extortionate tip
of Europe or America is undreamed of. For
excursions to the country motor-cars are to be
had at reasonable rates. If one prefers to econo
mise, sados may be hired for twenty-four cents
gold an hour or six cents for fifteen minutes.
The reader may have wondered why I have
added the word "gold" in mentioning dollars
and cents. The object is to avoid ambiguity
resulting from the fact that the term "dollar" in
the Far East generally means the Mexican or the
"Conant" dollar, which has a value of only half
an American gold dollar, and the "cent" of the
Dutch East Indies is a hundredth part of the
 Photo by the Author
A SADO, THE CAB OF JAVA

Photo by the Author

A LARGE WHEELED CART, SOERABAYA
 RESIDENTIAL BATAVIA 47

guilder or florin, the guilder being worth forty

cents gold. The monetary system of the Indies
is simple. Of the various coins the "kwartje"
corresponds to the American dime, the "dub-
beltje " equalling four cents gold. Drivers, porters,
and coolies generally speak of the guilder as a
"rupiah" and of a half-guilder as a "stengah,"
calling the two and a half guilder piece a "ringgit."
As in well-nigh every quarter of the globe, letters of
credit are the most usual and convenient form of
carrying one's funds. Besides the Dutch banks
there are branches of British banks in Batavia
and Soerabaya.
Weltevreden is the modern half of Batavia, the
capital of the Dutch East Indies. Old Batavia,
the lower city or Benedenstadt, known in its
prime as the "Queen of the East," or more ap
propriately as the "White Man's Grave," is a
distinct and dissimilar city. Weltevreden is the
district of European residences and government
buildings, of hotels, clubs, and shops,—in short of
foreign life in general. It is a garden city, a
veritable "rus in urbe," with broad streets,
immense breathing places or "pleins," an abund
ance of shade trees, imposing public buildings, and
hundreds of delightful mansions and bungalows
set far back from the roads and surrounded by
pretty gardens and spacious lawns. Weltevreden
dates from the opening of the nineteenth century,
and owes its existence to the terrible ravages of
48 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

death and disease in the old town. The early

Dutch arrivals in Java attempted in old Batavia to
reproduce in an environment of swamp and jungle
the none too healthy features of a Dutch home
town of the period,—canals, narrow streets, closely
huddled houses, and all,—and for this folly they
paid dearly by the loss of many thousands of lives.
Between 17 14 and 1776 a total of 87,000 (mostly
soldiers and sailors) died in the government hos
pitals, and over a million deaths in all are recorded
in Batavia for the years between 1731 and 1752.
The indefatigable Marshal Daendals, military
commander during the French control of Holland
and the Indies, was the first to take resolute
action against the greatest of all foes, and under
his orders the garrison were removed from their
quarters in the old town to a new camp at some
distance and on higher ground. This new camp
formed the nucleus about which Weltevreden
grew. Within a few years the officials followed
the troops, civilians soon followed the officials,
and in the end the old, unsanitary lower town was
left to the natives and Chinese and to the offices
of those business enterprises whose prosperity
necessitated their location in the near neighbour
hood of the harbour and go-downs.
Weltevreden signifies "well content," and con
tentment is apparent in the faces and figures of
the Dutch residents, their stout wives, and their
healthy-looking children. These people seem far
 RESIDENTIAL BATAVIA 49

healthier and happier than the English residents of

British India or the Straits Settlements. " Liver "
seems to be exceptional, good colour and clear
complexions are usual, sun-helmets and evening
dress are less common than good health and good
sense. The folly of attempting in equatorial
Asia to live the life of Europe with all its unsuited
fashions and conventions has been learned by the
Dutch, perhaps from bitter experiences in the
old city. To-day everything is governed by con
siderations of health and comfort. The roomy
dwellings, each in its park or garden, give the
impression of solidity and cool comfort above all.
The deep verandahs, their classic colonnades and
marble floors, the white walls of the houses them
selves, the absence of fatiguing stairs, of heavy
floor coverings and cumbrous hangings, the sub
stitution of shutters for window-panes,— all of
these and many other less conspicuous details
have a share in providing for the fullest enjoyment
of fresh air and a minimum of heat where these
two are among the greatest desiderata of life. The
cost of living is still low in the Indies. Servants-
work for little more than their board and lodging
in many cases and rarely leave the employ of a
good master, ponies and carriages may be kept on
quite modest incomes, and there seems to be practi
cally no splurging or showy vulgarity. Small
wonder that these colonial Dutch are well content.
After a day or two in Weltevreden the stranger
50 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

begins to notice certain unique peculiarities of

the social regime. There seem, for instance, to
be few, if any, white people of the lower classes,
except in the ranks of the colonial army. Euro
pean gamblers and prostitutes, beach-combers,
beggars, and ne'er-do-wells, common as they are
in the foreign settlements of nearly every port of
the Far East, are but rarely seen in the Dutch
possessions. The disreputables are kept out by a
rigid enforcement of the entry regulations, and
the white labourers and mechanics are kept out
by their inability to live on the low wage of the
competing brown man. Another and unique
feature of the social life is the manner of drawing
the colour line. A white woman may not marry
a native, but, on the contrary, a white man may
do so and his half-caste children will be considered
and treated as Europeans. One frequently meets
half-castes of high social position, and it is even
said that a recent governor-general boasted a
thick strain of the brown blood. The scorned
Eurasian of British India has much to envy in
this recognition of his cousins of the Dutch islands.
Sightseeing in Weltevreden must be accom
plished so far as possible in the early morning and
late afternoon, for, despite the shade of the wide-
spreading waringins and the protecting foliage
of the handsome tamarind-trees, the streets are
hot to scorching, and the new arrival is particu
larly sensitive. The "sights" of this new part
c
o
aF-
--
o
V.
<
 RESIDENTIAL BATAVIA 51

of Batavia are few, and with a carriage and a pro

perly instructed driver everything but the museum
collections may be seen in a couple of hours. The
centre of things is the immense Koningsplein.
This "gambir," as the Malays call it, is an ugly,
open square of trapezium shape, covering an
area of about a square mile and relieved in its
bare unattractiveness by a few scattered trees and
an inconsiderable carpet of coarse, weedish grass.
Here and there along the paths one comes un
expectedly upon thriving specimens of the curious
sensitive plant, the mimosa pudica. The stranger
is at first inclined to cavil at this great waste of
space and to wonder why the ground has not been
planted with trees and made into a park, but he
will find that the gambir is to the residents a
priceless boon and its very bareness its most pre
cious feature. It is in fact the great breathing
spot of the city. Across its broad stretches the
refreshing wind blows unimpeded, and its absence
of vegetation ensures a dryness of air much appre
ciated in a region of almost universal moisture.
The popularity of the Koningsplein is well attested
by the buildings that surround it, and by the
representation of the wealth and fashion of Welte-
vreden that gather along its sides in the after
noon, on horseback and in handsome equipages.
At the north end of the plein is the stately,
classic, town palace of the Governor-General, now
for the most part deserted in favour of the country
52 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

palace in the famous botanical gardens at Buiten-

zorg, a few miles distant. On the west side is
the Museum, another edifice of gleaming white
and built in the classic style which has been chosen
for nearly all the public buildings. Before the
Museum stand two fine old cannon captured
from a native ruler of Southern Borneo, the Sultan
of Bandjermasin, and between them a bronze
elephant presented by a former King of Siam as a
memorial of his visit in 1871. The museum col
lections are intensely interesting and include
specimens of nearly everything of value to the
student of native life in the Insulinde, past or
present. There are Hindu and Buddhist images
and sculptures from the ruins of Central Java,
chain armour captured in the late war in Bali and
bearing a striking resemblance to that worn by
the Saracens in the time of the Crusades, other
armour and articles of personal adornment taken
from defeated native sultans and rajahs, models
of native buildings, products of all the native in
dustries, tools, implements, weapons, and countless
other things illustrating the civilization of the
islands.
Adjoining the plein to the north-east is the
pretty little Wilhelmina Park, and in its centre,
with the Tjiliwong River for moat, is the arsenal,
Fort Prins Hendrik, successor of the original
stronghold of the garrison after its removal by
Daendals from the unhealthy site in the lower
 RESIDENTIAL BATAVIA 53

city. Still farther to the east is a monument to

General Michaelis, a brave officer killed in the
Bali War in 1849, and on the Waterlooplein near
by is a column erected in 1828 "To the memory of
that most famous day, June 20th, 181 5, on which,
by the resolution and activity of the Belgians and
their famous general, William Frederick George
Ludwig, Prince of Luxemburg, after a terrible
conflict on the plains of Waterloo, when the bat
talions of the French had been routed and scat
tered on every side, the peace of the world dawned
once more." Thus reads a translation of the
somewhat stilted inscription. As the battle of
Waterloo may, from one point of view, be said
to have brought about by its result the restoration
to the Dutch of the Insulinde and also the inde
pendence of the Netherlands from France, Hol
landers may well afford to revere its memory even
through the medium of such monuments of un
deserved tribute as this. Belgium and the Nether
lands of to-day were for a time one nation, and
self-praise is a common failing.
Beyond the Waterlooplein stand the buildings
of the government of the Indies and the high
courts of justice. In the former sits the Council
of the Indies, and before it stands a statue of Coen,
the early governor who erected the fort at Jacatra
that later took the name of Batavia and developed
into the present city. Weltevreden is the formal
seat of the administrative government of the
54 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

islands. Theoretically the administration is car

ried on by the throne of Holland, acting through
a governor-general and council appointed by it
and in accordance with the Dutch East India
Administration Regulations, a sort of constitution
for the Indies which was granted in 1854. The
Dutch method of governing the natives is in
genious and sensible. The Indies are divided into :
(1) Java and Madoera and (2) the Outer Posses
sions, each of these in turn being divided into
a number of residencies and governments. In
the governments a governor is the theoretical
as well as the practical ruler; in the residencies,
the resident, the practical ruler, is appointed to
the court of the native regent or "adipati" and
acts as an "elder brother" whose advice, accord
ing to the adat or customary law, must be
taken. The general law of the island is this same
adat, modified when necessary to serve changed
conditions and the demands of modern progress.
Practically all the native officials are appointed
by the Dutch, but the headmen of the village
communities and other minor and local office
holders are elected by their fellow-natives. The
two. native principalities of Solo and Djokja are
still under the theoretical control of their native
rulers, the Susuhunan1 and the Sultan, but these
monarchs have accepted the "advice" of the
Dutch and in return for liberal annual stipends
• Dutch spelling is Soesoehoenan.
 RESIDENTIAL BATAVIA 55

have farmed out to the real rulers the taxes and

monopolies.
This system of colonial administration differs
in many particulars from those in use by the
British or French, but is perhaps even more
successful. The language adopted for intercourse
between natives and Dutch is Malay, and all
Dutch officials are obliged to be familiar with this
easy tongue before taking up their posts. Malay
will undoubtedly replace within a few years the
various dialects of the more remote sections of
the Insulinde, for it is now taught in all the govern
ment schools. The men picked for the colonial
service are given a special and thorough training
before being allowed to take up even the compara
tively unimportant posts, and one is bound to be
impressed with the fact that they are a particu
larly intelligent body of men and for the most
part creditable representatives of their home-
country.

Next door to the Administration Building is

the spacious home of the Club Concordia, the
favourite club of the military and official residents.
If lucky enough to have been put up as a guest
one may pass a pleasant evening in the gardens
amid a myriad of lights, gazing at the Parisian
toilets of the elite of the capital, sipping refresh
ing drinks, and listening to the music of a fine
military band. The other principal club, the
56 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

"Harmonie," is rather more the club of the civi

lians. It has an imposing building, quite near the
hotel, on the Rijswijk, one of the main shopping
streets. Other opportunities of seeing the fashion
able life of the town are furnished by the restau
rants scattered along the canalized Tjiliwong where
it runs between the Noordwijk and Rijswijk. Here
one may take afternoon tea or other refreshment al
fresco and later adjourn to the shops or stroll back
to the hotel, stopping to look at the laundering
of clothes, the watering and washing of ponies,
and the scrubbing of persons that form perhaps
the most interesting feature of street, or better
of canal, life in Weltevreden.
Not far from the Noordwijk, in the newer
Chinese quarter, the "Pasar Baroe," there is a
rather amusing instance of liberality of religious
spirit. In the former mansion of a Dutch gover
nor, which is said to have been disposed of as ghost-
haunted, there is a Chinese temple with Hindu
gods as resident deities. The peculiarity of this
seems less marked when we find that the native
Mahometans also worship Hindu gods and even
fetishes in many instances, and allow their women
to go about unveiled. The native Christians are
also rather prone to a similar tendency to revert
to their earlier beliefs and practices.
 CHAPTER III

OLD BATAVIA

THE "old town" of Batavia—the Beneden-

stadt, or lower city—antedates Weltevreden
by almost two centuries. It stands on a site
occupied prior to the coming of the Dutch by the
native town of Jacatra, the seat of the Sultan or
"Pangeran" of Jacatra, a vassal of the powerful
King of Bantam. When the first Dutch expedi
tion under Houtman visited Java in 1596 Jacatra
was a palisaded town of 3000 houses, less important
than the town of Bantam, farther to the west,
where the Portuguese had established themselves.
The Dutch traders that followed in the expedi
tions of the next few years (and the English in
turn on their arrival) seem to have preferred to
content themselves with the trade opportunities
at Bantam, despite the constant international
bickerings which soon arose, but finally the
Dutch decided to open a trading-post at Jacatra
also. Their purpose was accomplished in 1610,
and it is said that the necessary land was obtained
from the natives by the practice of a , trick
57
58 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

similar to that associated by tradition with the

acquisition of parts of Manhattan Island (now
New York City), by certain other Dutchmen.
According to this story the natives were in each
case loath to sell to the foreigners any parcel of
land sufficiently large for the purposes of the latter,
but were finally induced after much wrangling
to part with so much as might be included within
the limits of a hide. The not over-scrupulous
Europeans at once tore the hide into thin, narrow
strips, placed these end to end so as to enclose a
very considerable piece of land, and then insisted
on their right to this parcel under the terms of the
bargain.
In 1615 or 1616, Admiral Pieter Both, the first
governor-general under the East India Company,
decided to make Jacatra, rather than Bantam,
the chief trading-post of Java and the seat of the
administrative headquarters. The English, only
a few years before, the allies of the Dutch against
the common foe Portugal, had now become their
hated rivals, and showed their hostility in many
ways, especially in stirring up the natives to a
point that threatened serious results. As a
defensive measure, in 161 8, Coen, the successor of
Both as Dutch governor-general, fortified the
Jacatra post with moats and high walls with look
out towers commanding a view of the roadstead
and the land approaches. The value of these
protective works was put to a test within a few
 OLD BATAVIA 59

months, the English and natives taking advantage

of a temporary absence of Governor Coen and the
Dutch fleet to attack the new fort. In March,
1 619, the fort or citadel was christened Batavia
and the four bastions were named respectively
Holland, Zeeland, West Friesland, and Gelderland
at a banquet within the fortifications, given, so far
as we are able to learn, for the purpose of en
couraging the garrison to hold out. Two months
later Coen returned and relieved the fort, levelling
the native town as a reprisal for the treacherous
behaviour of its inhabitants and firmly establish
ing Batavia as the centre of Dutch power and ad
ministration in the Indies. From these beginnings
came the city of to-day with its population of
135,000.*
Old Batavia contains very few relics of the early
days, but it is quaint and delightfully picturesque,
and its canals, though deleterious to its sanitary
well-being, add much to its individuality and to
its charm to the stranger. The highway which
joins the old city to the new runs along the bank
of a canal and is called the Molenvliet or "mill-
stream." Towards its lower end it passes through
the principal Chinese quarter and its continuation
enters the heart of the business district just
beyond. The ponderous, ugly trains of the
steam tram line lumber laboriously past the hotel
1 Inclusive of 9000 Europeans but taking no count of the army
and navy representatives.
60 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

compound every few minutes on their way down

the Molenvliet to the lower city, and every new
arrival makes one trial of this means of convey
ance; but carriages are cheap, and are cooler and
more comfortable, and one experience of the tram
is usually quite sufficient.
On our first visit to the Benedenstadt we drove
down the Molenvliet, and on through the banking
and foreign commercial quarter, to the oldest
part of the town. Alighting at the old Town
Hall, a substantial, thrifty-looking building, dating
from 1710, and now used for police and other
local offices, we were shown a fine old teak stair
case and a number of interesting old portraits.
On the bestowal of a small fee one is allowed a
glimpse at the underground dungeons, which
despite their bad name are no worse than many a
more modern prison cell in Europe or America.
A little beyond the Town Hall, on an open square
known as the " Casteelplein, " is the ugly Penang
Arch, built in 167 1 as one of the gates of the citadel.
The arch is a cheap-looking imitation of a Roman
triumphal arch, and is embellished, or rather made
more hideous, by pseudo-classic, armoured figures
of heroic size. This architectural monstrosity
stands to-day quite by itself, the outlying wall
having long since disappeared. Passing through
the arch we came upon a few old-time warehouses,
and beyond in the distance were visible the remain
ing towers and walls of the old-time fortifications.
 OLD BATAVIA 61

To one side of the road near by, half-buried in

the mud, lies a fine old cannon about fifteen feet
long,—the " Si Jagoer " or " Meriam Besar " as the
natives call it. Its history is unknown and it
bears no date, but the butt-end is fashioned in
the semblance of a closed fist and an inscription
in Latin reads "Ex me ipsa renata sum" (I have
been reborn from myself), doubtless a reference
to a recasting. About this old piece have grown
up a number of quaint superstitions. The
native women believe that Si Jagoer has the power
of giving children to the childless, and on earthen
mounds close by they burn incense sticks and
make their pitiful offerings in the hope of pro
pitiating this strange god and obtaining their
heart's desire. Another native superstition de
clares that the old gun will some day join its mate,
(probably the similar gun now in Soerabaya), and
that on that day Dutch rule in Java will come to
an end. The placid Hollanders are, I imagine,
not greatly worried on that score, but are none the
less likely to view with disapproval any attempt
to remove Si Jagoer from its present resting-place.
Retracing our steps beyond the Town Hall, and
turning to the left at a street bearing the dignified
and impressive name of Buitennieuwportstraat,
we visited next the old Portuguese church, built
in 1693. In the churchyard is the tomb of
Governor Swaardecron (1718-25) and from this
fact and a glance at the numerous escutcheons
62 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

with which the interior walls are graced one would

imagine that this must formerly have been the
place of worship of the aristocracy of Batavia.
As a matter of fact, the bulk of the congregation
has always been made up of Portuguese half-
castes and Portuguese-speaking Asiatics, many of
the latter freed slaves or their descendants. Any
one buried in the churchyard was entitled to have
an escutcheon in the church, provided a sum of
twenty dollars was paid for the exercise of the
privilege. The number of escutcheons is under
the circumstances small, and we cannot but
wonder whether this is to be taken as evidence
of lack of vanity or lack of funds on the part of
the church members.
A few yards up Jacatra Road, to the left of the
church, one's attention is drawn to a section of
old wall, surmounted by a whitewashed human
skull transfixed by a spear point. The ground
behind is wild and uncared-for, with traces here
and there of former buildings. A tablet below
the skull bears an explanatory inscription in
Dutch and Javanese stating that "in detested
memory of the traitor Pieter Erberveld" building
or planting in this place is forbidden for all time.
Erberveld was a popular half-caste leader who,
through the faithlessness of a native girl, was
betrayed in a plot which had in view the massacre
of all the Dutch in Batavia and the proclamation
of Erberveld as king. His offence was a grievous
 Photo by the Author
THE ERBERVELD SKULL AND INSCRIPTION
 OLD BATAVIA 63

one, but its punishment seems in these more

enlightened days of the twentieth century to have
been unnecessarily cruel, unless we realize that
the imperative need in earlier days of protecting
the lives and property of the little body of white
colonists against the attack of overwhelming
hordes of natives could only be met by the employ
ment, in such cases as that of Erberveld, of puni
tive methods calculated by their horrors to act
as powerful and terrifying deterrents on a people
unafraid of imprisonment or ordinary death.
Erberveld was in 1722 broken on the wheel, his
head and hands cut off, and his body quartered.
His was the head now on the wall. Its present
size is due to repeated coats of whitewash.
Besides these few public remains of the early
days, the town hall, gate, cannon, church, and
skull,—a meagre array for a town of such age
and historic interest as this, the "Queen of the
Orient, "—there are still standing a number of the
old mansions, once the homes of the wealthier
colonists, but to-day relegated to a less suitable
service and used as banking, shipping, and other
commercial offices. In many an unexpected
corner are still to be found vestiges of old-time
elegance and former splendour, carved balustrades
and stairways, marble floors, handsome mantel
shelves, fine doors and wonderful old knockers.
In contradistinction to this magnificence, the
coral-rock, brick, and stucco exteriors, and the
64 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

cramped quarters of these houses, huddled to

gether as they are on the street line, with no space
for lawn or garden, show a curious disregard on
the part of their builders to outward pomp or
display, or even to creature comfort.
On our way back we drove along a canal (one
of many in the city) which took us through a sort
of Dutch-Chinese Venice, a most picturesque
quarter where the thrifty Chinese have possessed
themselves of buildings abandoned by the Dutch
on the occasion of the migration to Weltevreden.
In Batavia, as in nearly every port of Eastern
Asia, the Chinese have settled in great numbers,
proved themselves successful men of business,
and built up a prosperous colony. There are
29,000 of them in this city, many of them with
native wives and large families of Chino-Malay
children. In the whole island of Java the Chinese
number over 295,000, and their property has been
estimated at a valuation of about a hundred million
dollars gold. They hold the retail trade of Java
in their absolute control to-day.
The majority of these Celestials come to the
Dutch dominions as day labourers and work on
the plantations or in the mills till by their industry
and frugality, or by gambling or defrauding the
natives, they have succeeded in laying by a sum
sufficient to start them in trade or business in a
small way. The next step is the opening of a shop
or the purchase of a stock of cheap goods to peddle
 OLD BATAVIA 65

throughout the country districts, and once

launched in trade they generally advance rapidly
in the accumulation of money and extension of
business, and in the end acquire riches and pros
perity. Unfortunately, though the Chinese have
a world-wide reputation with Occidentals for
honesty in business dealings, many a poor, un
sophisticated Malay has quite a different tale to
tell. It seems to be a common experience of the
latter to yield to the blandishing wiles of the
Chinese and buy on credit far more than he needs
or wishes; then, when he is deep in debt, to find
the net drawn closer and closer about him in
varied forms of relentless oppression, till he finally
meets his end in practical slavery, the victim of
a heartless, conscienceless master. Like many
another the Chinese is, I fear, honest as a rule
only in so far as his sagacious instincts tell him
that honesty will in the long run prove the best
policy; otherwise he would be as honest in the
treatment of his inferiors in mentality and acumen
as he is in dealing with those whom he admits
to be his equals or superiors.
There were many Chinese in Java before the
advent of the Dutch, and to them the new arrivals
were extremely distasteful, as competitors and
superiors. In the early days, the Chinese were
constantly stirring up the natives against the
Dutch, and a strong race hatred developed between
the white and the yellow intruders. The former
66 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

being the stronger, the oppression of the latter

followed as a matter of course, and at last, in 1740,
bad feeling had reached such a point that the
Dutch in Batavia (fearing, it is said, a massacre
by the Chinese) went to an extreme in their
methods of self-preservation and put to death
over 10,000 Celestials. Since that time there has
been no special reason to fear the Chinese, but
exclusion decrees prohibitive of Chinese immigra
tion remained in force as late as the middle of the
nineteenth century. Java has never been without
a Chinese problem and probably never will be.
The recent insistence of the Japanese on equal
treatment with Europeans and the prospect that
the new republic of China may later be in a posi
tion to demand for its citizens equal treatment
to that granted her island neighbours are apt to
complicate matters still farther. It seems hardly
probable that the constantly increasing body of
Chinese in Java will forever submit to their
present treatment as racial inferiors, and the
moment that a Chinese navy of sufficient strength
has been built up there will doubtless be a
considerable change.
To-day the Chinese in a Javanese city live for
the most part in what is called the "Chinese
Camp," a quarter reserved for their use. They
are under the direct control and administration
of certain officials of their own race appointed by
the Dutch, and these "majors," "captains," and

V
 OLD BATAVIA 67

"lieutenants" are held responsible to the authori

ties for the enforcement of law and order in their
communities. The Arabs, of which there are
2000 in Batavia and about 20,000 in the island of
Java, are herded together and governed in a
similar fashion. The system is an ingenious one
and seems to meet with considerable success.
The Japanese form a small but growing colony.
As elsewhere, away from their own beautiful
country, the sons of Nippon seem to lose their
natural virtues and retain in exaggerated form
all their vices. Perhaps the less said of them the
better.
But what of the natives? Where do they live?
There are in Batavia some 100,000 inhabitants
classified officially as natives, but of these a
minority are Javanese of the pure blood; the
rest are Malay immigrants or descendants of
immigrants from the mainland or the coasts of
Sumatra, with a small representation of Soen-
danese (the race which forms the bulk of the
population of the interior districts of the west
end of the island) and a large proportion of per
sons of mixed blood. It is useless for the stranger
to attempt to distinguish between these vari
ous ethnological subdivisions. The general type
is the same, and in the cosmopolitan capital they
all live together as one composite whole. One
must go to the country districts to see differences
and pure racial characteristics. In the city, even
68 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

language offers little help in an attempt to sort

out these peoples, for not only a majority of the
"natives" but most of the Chinese and even of
the Dutch make use of low-Malay as a lingua
franca in business and every-day relations. Soen-
danese, Javanese, and Malays proper are found
in the capital indiscriminately commingled in the
native kampongs or villages, which, with their
inevitable palms and banana-trees, occupy all the
less desirable sites of both the old and the new
town and though picturesque to a degree are
unclean and offensive to the sensitive nose. What
ever there is of disease in Batavia to-day gener
ally springs from the filth of native living in these
villages, for, though the jungles which formerly
surrounded the city have been almost wholly
cleared away and the marshlands have been
drained and filled in, every attempt of the Dutch
to clean up the kampongs, even in time of pesti
lence, meets with strong opposition on the part of the
low-class native population, and after each cleans
ing there is a rapid reversion to former conditions.
I have purposely said nothing thus far of the
dress of the natives, for the hybrid costumes of
the town are in no way representative, and differ
but little if any from those seen in Singapore.
One sees but few high-class natives on the street,
and as the religion of the people is Mahometan
the women above the coolie class seldom appear
in public.
 CHAPTER IV
A TRIP TO BUITENZORG AND THE BOTANICAL
GARDENS

TWO or three days of steady sightseeing in

the moist, enervating heat of Batavia are
generally enough to reduce the new arrival to a
decidedly limp condition, and to keep thoroughly
"fit" it is necessary to be absurdly careful not to
overdo and not to over-exercise in the mid-day
hours, not to eat unripe or over-ripe fruit, and not
to drink water unless boiled or imported. Quinine
is useful in fighting malarial tendencies, but far
better than any drug is an occasional day or
half-day in the fresher, purer air of the country.
Only about twenty miles away, and nearly nine
hundred feet higher up, is Buitenzorg, the so-
called "country capital," the site of the world-
famous government botanical gardens, and there
is no better cure for the tired feeling which one is
so apt to get in Batavia than to enjoy the exhilara
tion of a motor run of an hour or so through the
country to this little town and wander about in the
shade of the splendid trees of the gardens. Buiten
69
70 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

zorg may also be reached by train, but train-

travelling in the tropics is more wilting than
stimulating, and one is strongly tempted to avoid
it on all possible occasions.
We secured a motor-car through the hotel
office, were called for tea and toast at five-thirty,
and made a prompt start at six, so as to enjoy to
the utmost the cool, bracing air of the early morn
ing, by far the best hours of the tropical day. In
a few minutes we were whirling through the pretty
suburb of Meester Cornells,1 over broad roads
shaded by waringins and tamarinds and bordered
with luxurious European villas which, as we
hurried by, left us a composite impression of
white walls and columns and porcelain flower-pots.
Just beyond we reached an outlying fringe of
native villages or kampongs, where the road
narrowed and it became necessary to proceed with
extreme caution to avoid the children, the chickens,
and the crowds on their way to market.
The little kampongs have the general appear
ance and typical features of all Malay villages
and nothing absolutely distinctive of Java. The
cottages are primitive and inexpensive, constructed
of wood and thatch, and probably only in a few
instances costing their owners more than twenty or
twenty-five dollars gold. Each house, or group of
houses, has its clump of banana-trees and its grove
1 Named after a native Christian teacher of the seventeenth
century.
 TRIP TO BUITENZORG 71

of cocoanut-palms. There is usually one principal

street, which is merely the highway along which the
village has grown up. On this one finds a couple
of "tokos" or general stores (as a rule kept by
Chinese) ; a dilapidated " misigit " or mosque, where
the natives, probably the most unorthodox
Mahometans in the world, may repair for prayer
and gossip; and long rows of tumble-down, ram
shackle, frame shanties, one or two stories high,
in the front rooms of which, opening on the street,
squat the occupants, engaged at their various
trades or awaiting customers for their goods.
The village markets are held outdoors and often
under solid tiled roofs put up at government
expense and sometimes the most substantial
structures of the place. In each kampong there
seem to be one or two of the heavy iron hoops
suspended vertically on a cross-bar between
uprights which are used as fire-alarms in country
villages in some parts of the United States. Here
they are also used for police purposes and espe
cially to give warning when a drug-crazed native
starts to run amuck, a not uncommon occur
rence among the Malays of all regions. These
alarms when struck give out a deep, resounding
tone which carries for a considerable distance.
Usually the native kampong is rather too squalid
and smelly for intimate acquaintance, and one
soon learns to appreciate it most when seen
from a distance, where its general impression of
72 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

picturesque beauty is enhanced by its surround

ings, and its defects and failings are not apparent.
The people that one sees in these village streets,
along the roads, or hard at work in the "sawahs"
or wet rice-fields, are small, slender, and straight
of stature, varying in colour from bright brown to
a yellow almost golden in the most admired shade,
with dark eyes generally slightly oblique, noses
somewhat pugged, thick lips, and coarse, long
black hair. Their hands and feet are small and
well formed, they give the impression of being
delicate rather than strong, and their poverty of
living is reflected in their lack of superfluous flesh.
In these people of the lowest classes there is that
indefinable something of manner or bearing that
seems to make the peasantry of Asia so much
gentler and less uncouth than the corresponding
social grade in Europe or America, but on the
other hand these Orientals show few signs of
mental activity in their expressions and seem
comparatively lacking in initiative, ambition, and
alertness of comprehension. Countless years of
oppression and the fatalism of a religion that
teaches that "what must be will be" have given
them a certain look of passive resignation and
thoroughly happy faces are seldom seen.
The costume of the people is admirably suited
to climatic and economic conditions, being cool
and for the most part washable, as well as in
expensive and durable. Men are clothed below
a
V.
<
<
 TRIP TO BUITENZORG 73

the waist in a body kain or skirt of thin ma

terial, generally brown or red-brown of colour
and checkered or striped in design. The kain is
merely an oblong piece of cloth which the wearer
converts into a garment by putting it around
him with the ends meeting in front, folding these
ends over and over in narrow folds till they are
close to the body, and then tucking the upper part
into a belt or the upper margin of the kain itself.
Worn thus it extends from waist to ankle. It
may also be put on so as to produce almost the
effect of knickerbockers, as is the usual practice in
Siam. Above the waist are worn either what we
know as undershirts, or (by those who can afford
them) white or dark cloth jackets with standing
collars. The long hair is done up in a sort of
chignon on top or at the back of the head and
covered by a coloured head kain or kerchief, so
wound as somewhat to resemble a small turban,
but with knotted corners hanging down at either
side of the neck behind the ears. Occasionally
this is capped by a wide-brimmed hat of bamboo
straw, and in rainy weather protection from the
elements is found, not in the umbrella of effete
civilization, but in a huge leaf.
Women wear a "sarong" corresponding to the
body kain of the men, and above this and covering
the breasts, a wide belt or band of coloured cloth,
often of elaborate design. The costume is com
pleted by a short white jacket or a long flowing gar
74 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

ment of white or light tint, which reaches to the

knees, and a "slendang" or scarf gracefully draped
over the shoulders or about the bust, according as it
is in use as a protection from the sun or the cold,
as a baby or bundle carrier, or as a mere ornament.
The women's hair is always long and is drawn
straight back from the forehead to a tight knot
at the back. Ankles and feet are, like the men's,
bare, or protected by primitive sandals. Babies
and the smaller children go about rather orna
mented than dressed ; later they become miniature
copies of the grown-ups. The dress which I have
attempted to describe above is, it should be
remembered, the dress of the lower classes; the
aristocracy of wealth or blood are seldom seen
by the transient visitor, unless at weddings,
funerals, or other occasions of ceremony, when
special costumes are worn. Of their ceremonial
dress I shall have something to say later; their
everyday dress varies from that of their social
inferiors principally in the comparative richness
and costliness of the fabrics employed and in the
added luxury of shoes or slippers.
In the early morning hours the country roads
are busy with prospective buyers and sellers on
their way to market. There are dozens of pony
sados packed to the utmost limit of capacity
and of ox-teams pulling carts with peaked roofs
and heavy loads of produce, but legs are the more
frequent means of locomotion and the bamboo
 TRIP TO BUITENZORG 75

shoulder-pole with baskets at each end the favourite

means of transport. With a brace of chickens
in one basket and eggs or vegetables in the other,
a bundle of sugar-cane, or perhaps a huge jack-
fruit on his back, the coolie, and even the small
peasant-farmer, trudges cheerfully along, generally
chewing hard at his "sirih, " the mixture of
areca-nut, lime paste, and tobacco, wrapped in
betelnut leaf, which, though it blackens his teeth
and reddens his tongue almost to disfigurement,
he finds indispensable to his comfort and pleasure.
Equestrians seem to be very scarce hereabouts,
dogs are less numerous than in other Asiatic
countries of our knowledge, and cats must find
plenty to keep them busy indoors, for we did not
see a single one for days after we landed at Tand-
jong Priok.
We stopped at a market in one of the villages
along the road to examine the fruits offered for
sale in the stalls under the iron roof and laid out
under the protecting shade of the huge oiled-
paper parasols, and found some few that are
familiar at home, others whose acquaintance we
had already made in other tropical lands, and
several that were quite new to us. Among the
first were pineapples, lemons, bananas, and
oranges. The oranges of Java are poor, and the
bananas or "pisangs" are usually of the mealy,
plantain consistency and of many sizes to which we
are unused, ranging as they do from the gigantic
76 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

"horse" variety to the delicate little "silver"

one. Of the strange fruit, the "mangosteen"
and the "durian" had long been known to us by
reputation. The first of these is absolutely
delectable,—a luscious mouthful, suggestive at
once of grapes, cream, and strawberries. It is
about the size of an apple, and its thick brown-
purple rind, when slit around the "equator" and
pulled apart, reveals the source of delight, a
number of delicious-looking, creamy-white seg
ments of pulpy consistency. Fortunately the
mangosteen is perfectly safe and one rapidly
acquires the innocuous habit of eating at least
a dozen a day. The number of the pulpy interior
segments is not constant, but invariably agrees
with that of certain excoriations on the outer
rind at its top and bottom.
The durian is perhaps the queerest of all the
fruits. Its outer appearance is not particularly
prepossessing. It has a hard, bristly shell of
brown-green and is at least four or five inches in
diameter. Opening this outer rind, we find
within it (if indeed we remain to investigate)
a sort of yellow or cream-coloured custard, con
taining a few nut-like seeds. This custard is acid
and not unagreeable to the taste, but the odour is
simply hellish,—if I may be excused for telling the
truth in the most appropriate terms. Bad eggs,
sulphur water, or HaS are almost pleasant by
comparison.
 TRIP TO BUITENZORG 77
Among other fruits, which make less of an
impression on first or later acquaintance, there
are the "rambutan, " a small bright-red fruit
with a spiny exterior and a juicy, nearly trans
parent pulp; the "duku, " of a dull yellow colour
and about half as large as a hen's egg, with similar
pulp containing, however, bitter seeds; the un
wieldy "jack-fruit, " a huge, oblong affair weighing
sometimes as much as fifty pounds, rough in rind
and coarse in flesh, only eaten after being cooked
into an edible softness; the "papaya," resembling
a melon, containing pepsin, and agreeable to most
tastes; the plum-like mango, too well known to
need description; the disappointing "rose-apple,"
shaped like a pear and attractive in outward
appearance, but a thin-skinned, insipid fraud;
and the breadfruit, more properly classified with
the vegetables and eaten like a baked potato or
sliced and covered with molasses. I have not
attempted to give a comprehensive list, but from
those given it may be seen that Java is rich in
fruits of every description. Besides fruits the
village markets are marts for grain, vegetables,
fabrics, and all sorts of articles of domestic and
household use, usually of crude and inexpensive
make.
Continuing on our way beyond the first kam-
pongs, we ran along a road bordered on both
sides by sawahs, the wet rice-fields which are the
most familiar feature of the landscape in the culti-

miii
78 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

vated districts of Java. Of over seven and a half

million acres under cultivation in the entire island,
five and a half are devoted to rice. The planting
is generally done at the beginning of the wet
monsoon, the fields having previously been care
fully terraced and banked, the earth well ploughed
over, and the softening water allowed to flow in.
The ploughing is done with primitive wooden affairs
drawn by the "carbo" or tame water-buffalo.
The preliminary work over and the earth in satis
factory condition the first planting begins. In
this stage of the proceedings it is usual to sow the
grains by hand in the soft mud, but occasionally
even entire ears are made use of. Following the
sowing the sawahs are flooded by day and drained
by night for a period of eight or ten days. At
the end of five or six weeks, when the rice-grass
is well up, bundles of two or three shoots are
transplanted at intervals of an inch or so, and
another period of flooding and draining ensues
which continues till the time for harvesting,
ordinarily about four months from the date of
the original planting. At harvest time the whole
population of the village turns out armed with
curved knives for the lopping off of the grass,
now about two and a half feet high. Later come
the operations of stacking in bundles for drying,
of stamping with pestles to separate the grain
from the straw, and of husking. As the raising
of crops is in these regions conditioned not on
 TRIP TO BUITENZORG 79

season but on the supply of water, planting may

take place in almost any desired month, and in
districts rich in water two crops a year are in no
wise remarkable. In the mountains dry planting
is found to some extent, but the "tegals" or dry
fields are less productive than the sawahs, and
wherever practicable the wet planting is much
preferred. Usually after a harvest of rice the
next planting is of potatoes or artichokes. The
rice-straw is used by the natives in the making of
hats.
I have mentioned the water-buffalo. This beast
is a first cousin to the caribao of the Philippines
and China. He is of slate or of flesh colour, with
long curved horns and ugly appearance, the
slowest walker of all the animals of which man
makes use as beasts of burden, a creature patient
and docile enough in the hands of even the smallest
native boy, but with a dislike for foreigners which
makes it highly advisable to give him a wide berth.
The carbo, when not at work, sensibly hides so
far as he can, from the sun and the flies, in whatever
mud is available.
As the road began the gradual incline to the
foot-hills, the sawahs gave place to cacao planta
tions, great tracts covered with small, dusty-
looking trees of little or no beauty, and at last,
about an hour and a half after leaving the Hotel
des Indes, we entered the settlement of Buitenzorg
and drove to the Hotel Bellevue for breakfast.
80 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

The view of the valley of the Tjidani from the

rear verandah of the Bellevue—to nearly every
traveller his first extended view of a thoroughly
typical Javanese landscape—comes as a surprise
and delight. Far off in the hazy distance rises
the cloud-encircled cone of Salak, with its wooded
slopes a mass of purple-grey. From its base,
cutting a way towards Buitenzorg through miles
of waving palms—a veritable sea of foliage—is a
ribbon of clear water, the Tjidani River. On the
banks of this refreshing stream may be seen,
through openings in the sea of palm leaves,
numbers of little thatch-roofed cottages, and in
the water itself may be distinguished parties of
brown bathers and groups of women in gay colours
washing clothes. The whole scene is delectable.
Buitenzorg is famous for its showers, and as
we revelled in the beauties of the valley below,
the gathering clouds grew thicker and darker and
the distant cone was soon hidden in the mist.
In another moment the entire view was shut off
by sheets of rain. Luckily these tropical showers
are of short duration and it takes but a few minutes
of sunshine to dry up the mud and puddles.
Hardly an afternoon passes at Buitenzorg during
the "bad" monsoon without a severe shower,
and it is said to rain at this place on an average
of over 220 days of each 365.
Buitenzorg means "free from care," not "care
less" as some scoffers would have one believe, and
 K !i
TRIP TO BUITENZORG 8l

here, free from the crowds and formalities and

petty annoyances of life in the city capital, have
lived since 1746, for the greater part of each year,
the various governor-generals of the Indies. Here
shut off from all noise and odour and dust, sur I
rounded by one of the most beautiful parks or
gardens in the world, able at will to enjoy the
richest and rarest tree and plant life, the successive
governor-generals surely have little cause to
complain of their environment and have probably
as restful and care-free a life as is compatible with
the responsibilities of their high position. In
one corner of the gardens is the tomb of Lady
Raffles, wife of the British governor-general who
was later the founder of Singapore. Lady Raffles
died in 1814. Her illustrious husband died on
his way home and was buried in England. The
great botanical gardens were established in 18 17,
almost immediately after the restoration of Java
to the Dutch.
Buitenzorg is often compared to Versailles, and
in its quality of agreeable artificiality, in the
successful results attained by its landscape gar
deners, in its palace even, one can trace perhaps
some slight resemblance, but comparisons are
invidious at best, and the differences are at least
as marked as the similarities. Versailles owes
its being to the extravagant caprice of a king, and W !f;
its sole aim was the satisfaction and pleasure of an
individual; Buitenzorg sprang from a wise and
6
 82 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

prudent forethought which had in view the good

of the people. As a mere pleasure palace Ver
sailles was vastly superior, as indeed it is to-day,
both as a historical museum and as a monument
to that wild extravagance and neglect of public
rights which in its culmination brought about the
great revolution. At Buitenzorg beauty has
been a mere incident in the growth of a great
utilitarian idea; its collections of superb trees
and pretty flowers have been planted here for
something more than their mere beauty.
Entering the gardens by the principal entrance we
find ourselves in a magnificent avenue of stately
kanari trees, each great trunk overgrown with
vines and creepers and the boughs meeting above
our heads at a height of a hundred feet. Near
by are other avenues of other trees—palms, warin-
gins, and banyans, —and with so much to attract
it is difficult to decide in which direction to turn.
This is beyond all doubt the finest collection of
tropical trees and plants in existence, and the
famous gardens of Colombo, Penang, Singapore,
and Saigon are mediocre in the comparison. It is
indeed a botanist's paradise.
Here, besides full-grown specimens of every
known tree of the tropics, are culture gardens for
sugar-cane, rubber, coffee, tea, ilang-ilang, and
all the spice, gum, and fruit trees, bamboo, rattan,
and the hardwoods, such as mahogany and teak,—
in fact for every variety of tree or plant of commer-

k
 TRIP TO BUITENZORG 83

cial or utilitarian value. There are also gardens

of all the brilliantly coloured flowering growths
of the island—the frangipani or sumboja, the
white, waxen, gold-centred flower of the dead,
the red and yellow lantanas, the poinsetta, the
gorgeous bougainvillea, and a host of others.
There are greenhouses to shelter the rarer and
more sensitive plants,—to shelter them, not, as
our greenhouses, from the cold, but on the con
trary from the heat and the withering rays of the
sun. In other sections are groves of curious screw-
pines, of mangroves and figs with strange aerial
roots, of graceful tree-ferns, and of many varie
ties of palm-trees—cocoanut palms, areca palms,
emperor palms, Banka palms, sago palms, date
palms, fan palms, feather palms, travellers' palms,
and even climbing palms over a hundred feet long.
Here too we find wonderful orchids and pitcher
plants and the wiry lianas to which the tropical
forest is largely indebted for its quality of impene
trability, the curious sausage, candle, and cotton
trees, and a myriad of others of equal interest.
Fronting on all this splendour of vegetation, and
facing a charming little artificial lake or pond
covered with lotus blooms and victoria regia and
an alluring little island overgrown with palms and
papyrus, stands the residence of the governor-
general, a classic structure with a small central
dome, on the whole rather disappointing. Passing
this we come upon the open greens of the deer
84 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

park and, to the extreme right, we find the river

Tjiliwong, the same stream which we saw at
Weltevreden between the Konings and the Water
loo pleins, here a babbling brook.
Apart from the attractions afforded by the
wonderful gardens there is nothing to keep the
visitor in Buitenzorg, but in the near vicinity,
at Batoe Toelis or "inscribed stone," there is an
archaeological relic dating from the days of Hindu
supremacy, a stone about seven feet high, bear
ing inscriptions in Kawi, the ancient written
language of Java. The sentences actually relate
to the doings of the founder of Padjadjaram, the
capital of the old Hindu empire of like name which
once included within its bounds this whole western
end of Java; but the more ignorant of the local
inhabitants have been taught to believe that they
are sentences from the Koran and venerate them
accordingly.
 CHAPTER V
BY THE NORTH COAST TO SOERABAYA; SOLO, A
NATIVE CAPITAL

WHETHER the traveller has planned a cruise

through the eastern islands of the Archi
pelago, or is forced to limit his wanderings in
that direction by a visit to the volcanoes and
health resorts of the Tengger Mountains in Eastern
Java, he will find it necessary to go first to Soera-
baya. To reach Soerabaya from Batavia two
routes are available: one by steamer along the
north coast, a voyage of five days including stops;
the other by rail, a journey of approximately
eighteen hours, exclusive of one all-night stop.
It is probably preferable to leave the harder,
overland travelling for the return trip when one
is more thoroughly acclimated, and to take it in
any case by slow degrees, allowing as much time
as possible to see the principal points of interest.
The sea route gives the opportunity of getting a
glimpse of the sea-port towns of Cheribon and
Semarang, and offers a welcome relief after the
exertions of sightseeing in hot Batavia.
85
86 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

We had a little over three months at our dis

posal and were anxious to see as much of the
Insulinde as we could in that time. Repeated
conferences with the obliging secretary of the
official bureau in Weltevreden and study of all the
available literature on the subject finally resulted
in a decision to go by steamer to Soerabaya, then
to cruise about the eastern islands for four or
five weeks, and upon our return to devote about a
month to Java and the remainder of our time to
Sumatra. The only impediment to the full enjoy
ment of this scheme of travel seemed to lie in our
lack of a speaking knowledge of either Dutch or
Malay, and we congratulated ourselves on having
overcome this obstacle by engaging through the
official bureau a native travelling servant, a
linguistic prodigy, whose accomplishments included
the ability to understand and speak Javanese,
Malay, Dutch, and English.
Our "boy" was irreproachably artistic in attire,
bland and innocent in expression, mild and con
ciliatory in voice and manner, to all appearances
a prize among native servants, but, as we shall see
later, he lost little time in revealing himself as an
unmitigated liar and fraud, and we were obliged
to dispense with his services even at the cost of
taking up the study of the Malay language, fortu
nately an easier task than one might imagine.
From many a sad experience, which may have
prejudiced me unduly, I am fain to classify all
:
I
1
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 87

Asiatic travelling servants in the same great

category of grafters, liars, and petty thieves.
Some few Chinese deserve a better rating, but
among the other Orientals honest exceptions are
rar<z aves indeed. I think the best travelling
"boy" I ever had was one whose chief recom
mendation, freely and unblushingly shown, was
a letter from a former employer declaring the
bearer to be "willing, good-natured, inclined to
be lazy, and too stupid to steal if watched."
This "boy," to be sure, occasionally removed
small quantities of brandy or whiskey from our
flasks and replaced them with water, once pur
loined an old suit of clothes, and on several occa
sions pilfered small things of no great value, but
on the whole he was honest according to his lights
and far better than the average. Our present
acquisition, on the contrary, started out on a
career of high finance from the very start. On
every purchase he took a "rake-off," on every
drive he seized the opportunity to share with the
driver an exorbitant "percent." His daily render
ings of accounts were a veritable object lesson in
guile, his excuses and explanations highly imagin
ative, but far from flattering to the intelligence of
his master.
When, at last, the time came to leave Batavia,
we sent our baggage to Tandjong Priok in charge
of our redoubtable boy and followed a little later
ourselves. The steamer was one of the liners
 88 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

from Europe, but her passengers had nearly all

disembarked at her first Javanese port and few of
the cabins were occupied. The first night out
proved a perfect nightmare of uncomfortable
experience. My cabin looked roomy and cool
and I turned in early, prepared to enjoy a good
night's rest, but hardly had the light been turned
out, when in the dim light from the saloon I could
see an army of huge cockroaches swarming in
under the door and through cracks in the wall near
the ceiling. After over an hour of hard work I ac
tually killed over forty of the creatures, and finally,
after sprinkling liberal allowances of "Keating's"
over both myself and the bed, slept an uneasy
sleep till daybreak. Cockroaches are the most dis
tressing feature of steamer travel in the tropics.
To be even partially rid of them, a ship that plies
in these waters and ties up to wharves for pro
tracted periods must have a thorough cleansing
and disinfecting every five or six months. In the
old-style liners with heavy interior woodwork and
fittings it is hard to see how any really lasting
results can ever be obtained. The best that a
traveller can do is to use, if possible, vessels that
have recently gone through the cleansing process
and always to carry with him plenty of "Keat-
mgs.
It was a steam of about twelve hours to Cheri-
bon, the first stop, and another twelve to Sema-
rang, and nearly all the way there was a hazy view

y
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 89

of the coast and the sea was without a ripple.

Cheribon, or Tjiribon (river of cray-fish), is a town
of 23,000 and the capital of Cheribon Residency.
It is situated at the mouth of the river from which
it takes its name. Mahometan pilgrims journey
thither in numbers to worship at the tomb of the
founder of the town, who was a devout follower of
the prophet and did much to extend the faith in
these regions. Back of Cheribon is a volcano,
Tjerimai by name, and there are other volcanoes
slightly farther inland. By reason of the sur
rounding coral reefs, ships anchor at a considerable
distance from the land. There is nothing to be
seen in the town to compensate for the hot boat
ride to the shore.
Semarang, like Cheribon, is the capital of a
residency of the same name as itself and lies at the
mouth of a river also of the same name. There
is nothing in its appearance from the sea to give
one any idea that he is approaching a city of over
97,000 inhabitants and the third city of Java
in commercial importance. The steamer, as at
Cheribon, anchors a long way out, and from the
anchorage the city, built up on a flat, unhealthy
site, is unimpressive. The violet-grey mountains
in the distance are far more worthy of notice, as
are several far-off volcanoes, one of them suffi
ciently active to send up a slender column of
smoke or vapour. As the steamer always stops at
Semarang for some time to discharge cargo there
 90 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

is ample opportunity to inspect the town quite as

thoroughly as it deserves and even to take the
train inland for a fleeting visit to Soerakarta or
Solo, the capital of one of the native principalities.
Going ashore in the company launch, we found
the same general conditions which seem to be the
characteristic features of all the Javanese ports.
In each case there is a town or settlement set
down on the low banks of a small river, originally
at its mouth, but by the constant deposits of the
river slowly but steadily removed farther and
farther from the sea. In each case there is no
really good natural harbour, and cargoes have to
be lightered from the ships at an exposed anchor
age and taken some distance up a canal before
they can be landed at what was doubtless in early
days the sea front of the settlement. In each case
the original town has proved too unhealthy for
residential use and always for the same reasons,
—bad site, huddling together of buildings, lack
of breathing places, superabundance of canals,
and want of proper sanitary precautions, espe
cially in matters of drainage. In each case a newer
town has grown up, farther back from the sea,
on higher ground, laid out on more modern, more
sensible lines, and replacing the older one as the
European residential quarter.
One can see in a car ride and a drive all
that is worth seeing in Semarang. We took
the trolley car for Tjondi from a point quite

L K
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 91

near the comfortable Hotel du Pavillion and ran

out of town on the Oenarang Road through
the Chinese quarter, past pretentious villas and
fantastic gardens filled with a never-ending
bloom of blue and white porcelain flower-pots.
Tjondi is the favourite residential suburb and is a
couple of miles to the south of the town proper,
having the advantage of an elevation of three
hundred feet. Many of the 5200 European
residents of Semarang live in Tjondi and enjoy its
fresher air and fine views.
Towards dusk we drove in a mylord along the
great tamarind-bordered Bodjong Road to the
mansion of the Resident, turning westward on
the way back to see old Fort Prins van Oranje,
half buried in the mud of its surroundings. There
are two large "flood" canals in Semarang, one of
them not far from the fort. In the early days,
during the wet monsoon, all that part of the town
near the fort consisting, then as now, mainly of
native villages and the Arab Camp, used to be
partially submerged by water for days at a time,
and the place acquired an undesirable reputa
tion for the prevalence of low, malarial fevers.
The flood canals, constructed as recently as 1880,
have drained this section to some extent, but
Semarang is still far from ideal in health condi
tions. The old city was relieved of its walls
and moats nearly a century ago, and its historic
buildings have long since passed away, though
92 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

many of the old residences and commercial houses

still remain. Here in Semarang there is a greater
proportion of pure Javanese than in Batavia.
In the native costumes one notices a preponderance
of blue sarongs and kains.
The railway to Solo is the principal cause of the
growth and prosperity of Semarang, for by it the
port is bound to the rich Vorstenlanden or native
principalities and has thus become the main depot
and export centre for the products of this richly pro
ductive country of Central Java. The line is one
of the oldest on the island and one of the few not
owned and run by the government. The con
cession for its construction dates as far back as
1863, but the road was not completed and opened
to traffic till nine years later. It took us about
two hours to reach Solo by this railway,—a dull
ride, for the scenery is made up largely of rice-fields
and kampongs, which quickly grow monotonous.
The "Slier" is perhaps the best hotel of Solo
and one of its best points is its situation on the
main street, for from its front verandahs one may
enjoy a first sight of typical Javanese in truly
Javanese dress. I do not know that I should care
to recommend the Hotel Slier as a place of abode
during the height of the rainy season, for the Solo
river has a bad habit of occasionally overflowing
its banks and flooding this part of the city, and the
hotel is on low ground, and the rooms are raised
hardly at all above the street level. It is said that
1
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 93

a few years ago the river rose to such a height dur

ing the visit of the democratic and popular brother
of the Emperor of Germany, Prince Henry, that
His Imperial Highness was obliged to make use of a
small "prouw" or native row-boat in getting from
his bedroom to the dining-room or bath-room.
I prefer not to vouch for the truth of this story,
but it is probably unexaggerated.
Solo, or more formally Soerakarta (city built
by heroes), is one of the two cities of Java where
the old-time costumes and customs of the early
days of native supremacy still survive in all their
pristine picturesqueness, and the pomp and cir
cumstance of a native court are still preserved.
Here, for the first time, as we sat outside our doors,
under the shade of the deep porticoes, amused by
the never-ending procession of grotesque costumes
and comic opera figures that passed before us, we
realized that we were really in Java, the Java of
the Javanese. But surely these people were not
real. They were too comical for the common
places of prosaic everyday life, and we felt that
they must be acting parts on a great open-air stage.
Solemn, stately dignitaries stalked past in high,
brimless foolscaps, their bodies bare to the waist
or encased in brass-buttoned coats, their loins
wrapped in bright body kains, their legs bare,
their feet protected by sandals held on by huge,
broad-topped pegs which protruded from between
the big and the other toes, the handles of their knife
 94 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

like weapons (for each official bears at least one

"kris") projecting from their heavy belts. No
less self-important were the followers of these
great men, the ragged rabble of servitors that
bore the ubiquitous sirih box, the necessary port
able cuspidor, the awe-inspiring "payang," or
official umbrella, and other usual accessories and
accompaniments of rank and position.
I have briefly mentioned one variety of head
gear, and there are many others to be seen in
Solo, each more extraordinary than the last. The
police wear what appears to be a section of black,
iron pipe such as we see on chimneys at- home;
another class of officials affect similar affairs, but
white in colour; soldiers are decorated with a sort
of helmet which has very little top or back and is
nearly all vizor; drivers are almost concealed
beneath great varnished or inverted dinner-plates ;
white leather fezzes are also worn, as well as
curious sugarloaf creations, and others that look
for all the world like flower-pots bottom up.
Besides the pedestrian life of the street and the
beggars, acrobats, and itinerant merchants that
pester us at short range, there are many passing
vehicles to attract our attention. Pretentious
landaus rumble by, their proud occupants, often
half-naked, shielded from the sun by payang-
bearers who stand on platforms behind, cattle-
drawn carts from the country, pony-drawn sados,
and alas, even, motor-cars are sometimes seen in

i
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 95

the constantly changing panorama. Surely for

local colour and novelty of street life Solo is not
far behind the leaders of the Orient.
In every other regard save that of the street
life, however, Solo is inferior to Djokjakarta, the
other native capital, for Solo has no edifice worthy
the name of palace, no buildings of historic inter
est, no monuments or tombs of artistic value, and
even its shops are inferior to those of its rival.
The "kraton" or palace of the puppet ruler, the
Susuhunan, although said to shelter a community
of over 10,000 souls, is neither prepossessing nor
imposing in outward appearance; the "dalem"
or residence of the prince next highest in rank is
better, but too European in many details to
satisfy a longing for purely Javanese splendour.
The menagerie or "zoo" is rather the most inter
esting individual sight of Solo. This is the best
collection in the Insulinde of the animals indige
nous to the islands and contains some fine speci
mens of the black and the spotted leopard, a
fair representation of the other larger animals,
and a great number of monkeys, snakes, and
brilliantly plumaged birds. The feeding hour
is an unpleasant one for a visit, as the carnivorous
animals are provided with their fresh meat in the
form of live dogs, which are often torn to pieces
in sickening style before they cease to breathe.
The kraton is hidden behind high white-washed
walls, and unless one has a permit to visit it he
96 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

will see nothing but the front entrance on the

" aloun-aloun " or main square. The bareness
of this great square is relieved only by two
lone trees. On one side is a misigit or mosque
with a moving-picture show as its next neigh
bour; at the kraton end are a couple of small
cannon guarding a line of white wall, with a
break in the middle occupied by a sort of ex
aggerated pergola, or what looks like one. This,
on the occasion of our visit, was the scene of a
tremendous gathering of native officials, who
were being received in audience by the heir
apparent. The squat attitudes and the lack of
superfluous clothing gave the function quite the
air of a North American Indian pow-wow. After
waiting about for some time we were rewarded by
seeing the prince, preceded and followed by attend
ants and lance bearers and covered by his royal
umbrella, walk pompously across the square and
drive away in his state equipage drawn by four
horses. It was disappointing to find that even
the members of the royal house evidently take no
pride in the outward appearance of their retainers.
Within easy reach of the entrance of the kraton
is the home of the power behind the throne, the
Dutch Resident, and in close juxtaposition to
the Residency is the symbol of the power behind
the Resident, the seat of the Dutch garrison, Fort
Vastenburg. All said and done, the great Susu-
hunan, the "Spike of the Universe," is to-day
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 97

nothing more than the pampered prisoner of his

"elder brother," the Resident. He receives a
liberal annual allowance of over three hundred
thousand dollars gold, is permitted to eke out a lazy
existence amid the unstimulating surrounding of
a large harem, half a hundred children, and thou
sands of sycophant hangers-on and more useful
attendants, and is encouraged to keep in being his
grotesque little opera-bouffe army and in other
ways to blind the eyes of the natives to his absolute
loss of power.
Lest by any chance a sudden access of ambition
or fanatic fervour should lead him to rebel, and
in order to render his success in such a case next
to impossible, there has been set down at his side
in Solo an independent vassal (if I may use that
term), the Pangeran Adipati Ario Mankoe Negoro.
This prince represents the more progressive ele
ment, looks like a Japanese of the highest class,
has a toy army of a few hundred men, and is suffi
ciently powerful and popular to prove of great
help to the Dutch in case of trouble with the
Susuhunan. Both the Susuhunan and the Pange
ran Adipati know full well that a first sign of dis
loyalty to the Dutch on the part of the former
would mean his fall from grace and perhaps the
raising of the "independent vassal" to his place.
As a further precaution a certain number of Dutch
soldiers are always on guard at the palace, and the
Susuhunan is not permitted to wander beyond the
98 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

confines of the kraton without an escort of Euro

pean troops.
The history of the successive steps by which the
Dutch gradually acquired their present status in
the two principalities is perhaps the most interest
ing chapter in the history of Dutch colonial
relations. Partly by reason of the purer strain of
blood which flows in the veins of the inhabitants of
these regions of Central Java and the pride and
conservatism which follow as a natural conse
quence of this, partly because of the relative in
accessibility of these lands to military operations,
the territories included in the ancient empire
of Mataram and its later successor, the empire
of Solo, have always been the last in all Java
to respond to the necessity for change, the
last to submit to the will of the conqueror or
invader. This great central state held fast to its
earlier gods and faiths long after the other Hindu
kingdoms, Madjapahit to the east and Padjad-
jaram to the west, had surrendered to the doctrines
of the Koran ; later, it held out with equal obsti
nacy against the extension of the Dutch dominion.
As early as 1628, and again in 1660, we find the
ruler of Mataram engaged in desperate efforts to
drive the Dutch from their stronghold at Batavia.
The failure of these attempts seems to have duly
impressed the native princes with the fighting
ability of the Dutch, for within a score of years
the aid of the latter was sought by the incumbent of
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 99

the Mataram throne in warding off a threatened

invasion by another native ruler, the Sultan of
Macassar. This request for aid was readily acceded
to, and when the war clouds had cleared away,
the Dutch, as reward for their services, obtained
their first foothold in the empire, the right to
establish a trading-post on the coast and to install
therein a small garrison.
" For the next half-century or more, native wars,
rebellions, and revolts weakened the empire, and
the Dutch were able by the middle of the eight
eenth century to make themselves so necessary to
the sovereigns of Mataram that, when the founder
of Soerakarta died, the Dutch East India Company
was in possession of the entire coast of the empire
and practically the testamentary trustee for the
" hinterlands, " for the company was left to decide
who should succeed to the throne,—the son and
heir of the deceased monarch, or the latter's
brother, then in active rebellion. It is said that
this rebellion was in fact due to the Machiavellian
instigations of the Dutch, who were quite willing to
see the strongest of the native kingdoms reduced
to a state of helplessness. Be that as it may, the
foreigners were not slow in reaping the advantages
of the situation, and in their decision the wise
maxim, Divide ut imperes—"Divide that thou
mayest rule, "—was put to practical application,
the heir receiving two-thirds of the country,
and the pretender being established as a vassal
1oo JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

under the title of Sultan of Djokjakarta and

adjudged the remaining western third.
It was not long before another move brought
about the freeing of the Sultan from his fealty
to the Susuhunan. The Sultan was easily led to
resent the annual rendering of homage as an act
beneath his dignity, and a way of escape was
suggested in the wearing of a Dutch uniform at
the meeting with the Susuhunan; for, under an
understanding of many years with the natives,
the foreigner and those wearing the insignia of
military rank under him were not required to
kneel or perform the grovelling " dodok " before
even the highest native ruler. The suggestion was
accepted and acted upon, and with the desired
result of offending the Susuhunan and making
the two rulers inimical from that time forth.
The later and final step in the weakening of
these princes we have already touched upon, —
the placing at the court of each of another prince
of sufficient rank and backing to act as a warning
restraint upon the reigning sovereign.
The success of this well-conceived policy from
a Dutch point of view may best be judged by
the fact that since it has been carried out in its
entirety there has been but one serious uprising
against the Dutch authority in Central Java,
and that one nearly a century ago,—the so-called
Mataram War, an unsuccessful rebellion led by
an illegitimate son of a Sultan of Djokjakarta,
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 101

which was put down after a struggle of five

years.
Our return trip from Solo to Semarang was
uneventful, and the remaining hours of the voyage
to Soerabaya were made disagreeable by a succes
sion of rain squalls that ruffled up the muddy
water and shut off all views of the shore till we had
turned south and passed into the narrow straits
which separate Java from its smaller neighbour,
Madoera. If one is fortunate enough to arrive
as we did, in the evening, there is a world of fascin
ation in the twinkling lights on the two shores, and
one cannot fail to be reminded of those other
far away straits between Italy and Sicily, the
Straits of Messina.
Soerabaya is no exception to other Javanese
ports in the matter of landing facilities, distances,
and general configuration. From the anchorage
to the customs landing is a good half-hour's sail
and row against the outgoing current of the
canalized river, the Kali Mas, and it is best to
count on being obliged to make the voyage in one
of the native " tambangans, " or row-boats with
three-cornered sails. Kali Mas means literally
"river of gold," a delightfully poetic name for
what might be called more prosaically and graphi
cally a river of yellow mud. What splendid
advertizing agents these Orientals would make
with a little American training, to be sure. This
muddy canal is interesting none the less, for it is
102 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

crowded with Madoera prouws, highly coloured

at bow and stern and filled with natives quite
piratical in appearance. From the landing-
place at the Kleine Boom it is a half-hour's drive
in a mylord to the district of residences and of
our hotel, the Simpang.
Soerabaya, the one-time capital of the Insulinde,
and to-day the leading city in population, wealth,
and commercial activity, gives a very different
impression from that produced by slow, sleepy
Batavia. Here there are bustle and activity every
where, and all of the 150,000 or more inhabitants,
even including the 8000 Europeans, seem infected
with the commercial or money-getting bacillus.
At the business centre of the town near the end of
the "Djambatan Merah, " or red bridge, one gets
the best idea of the busy daily life of the place,
and here one must be careful in crossing the street
lest he be caught unawares by one of the many
passing vehicles. Traffic regulation is conspicu
ous by its absence, and amid the conglomeration
of fast motor-cars, hurrying sados and "kosongs"
(two-pony cabs) , bullock carts with wheels five or
six feet in diameter, and coolie-drawn hand-trucks,
one may easily come to grief ere he comes to a due
appreciation of the occidental haste of this oriental
city. Soerabaya is essentially a cosmopolitan
city, with a Chinese settlement of 15,000 and an
Arab Camp of 2500, besides a representation in its
" native" population of probably every race of the
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 103

entire Archipelago. Its growth and prosperity

are due to its railway connections, which have
made it the shipping port of the plantations of the
eastern end of Java, and to its strategic situation,
which has enabled it to control a large proportion
of the trade of Dutch Borneo, Celebes, and the
more easterly islands. Health conditions are even
worse than in the other ports, owing to a lack
of good water and the absence of purifying sea
breezes, these latter being quite shut off by the
island of Madoera. New harbour works are
under way.
The Simpang hotel, while less luxurious than our
Batavian hostelry, is one of the best in the Indies:
the rooms are comfortable, the food very fair, and
the service excellent. We found the same main
building and the same galleries of bedrooms with
which we were becoming so familiar, but here we
were nearer the street, and peddlers and beggars
became annoyingly attentive during the after
noon tea hour. The hotel is in the centre of a
district of broad avenues shaded by tamarinds
and waringins and lined with handsome villas.
The residency, military hospital, and a club are
all within a few steps. To the business part
of the town it is quite a long drive, but carriages
are inexpensive, there are many interesting sights
along the roadside, and on the way back one may
stop half-way at the restaurant of Grimm, the
Sherry or Delmonico of Soerabaya, and refresh
104 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

himself with ice-cream or a cooling drink. Coffee

and cigars are a good deal of a gamble in the
Indies: occasionally they are very good, generally
they are not. At our hotel a particularly pleas
ing feature was the low cost of laundry work,
four cents gold a piece; but, alas, our pleasure
vanished with the return of the remnants later
on, and we realized that we had been the victims
of premature exhilaration. The most irritating
features of life at Soerabaya are the regular after
noon arrival of hordes of mosquitoes and the
peculiarly inquisitive character of the indigenous
red ant.
About half-way from the hotel to the customs
landing is the old fort of Prins Hendrik, still in use
and inaccessible to the average visitor. It is the
only important historical building in Soerabaya,
but we were told that it contained nothing of
interest. The sightseer soon realizes that this
city is merely a great collection of native villages
with a narrow, central strip of European commer
cial structures and habitations and a few military
and naval works, arsenals, barracks, and dock
yards,—a town wholly lacking in individual or
peculiarly interesting features of any kind. Soera
baya is a splendid place from which to start for
other more interesting spots, a good place to do
the shopping which is always necessary before a
cruise or a journey inland, but in other respects
there is little to detain one, and we were glad to
 BY SEA TO SOERABAYA; SOLO 105

leave its miasmic air and its pestilential mos

quitoes at the earliest opportunity.
I promised to say something more of our "boy. "
His career so far as we were concerned ended at
Soerabaya. Despite his manifold sins and trans
gressions we forgave him all in view of our need
of an interpreter and even bought tickets for him
for the long cruise through the islands. The
afternoon before the morning of sailing I was
surprised to be called up on the telephone and told
that he had been run over by a sado and his
arm broken. Upon careful investigation, however,
this story turned out to be highly imaginative.
Our worthy "boy" had not enjoyed his sea trip
along the north coast and had also probably dis
covered that his opportunities for graft with us
would be small ; at all events, although an examin
ation showed him to be uninjured save for a slight
bruise, he declined point-blank to leave Java, and
was left behind. It is but fair to say that the
Official Bureau at Weltevreden, on our return
later, did everything possible to make up for the
inconvenience that we experienced through his
sudden defection, and, I doubt not, gave him the
lesson he deserved.

1
 CHAPTER VI

A CRUISE TO CELEBES

FROM Soerabaya it is possible to reach practi

cally every island of the Insulinde by means
of the steamers of the Koninklijke Paketvaart
Maatschappij, the company which holds nearly
a monopoly of the inter-island passenger traffic.
Directly to the north lies the enormous island of
Borneo, larger than France and over seven times
the size of Java. In a voyage of a day one may
cross the smooth Java Sea and land at Bandjer-
masin, the capital of the residency of South and
East Borneo, a town of perhaps 20,000, on the
banks of a river, two or three hours from the south
coast. Bandjermasin is a picturesque place,
partly built on piles and rafts by reason of the
"sludgy, squdgy" nature of its site. Its reputa
tion for health is very bad, and even the attraction
of good crocodile-hunting in the near vicinity and
the novelty of an excursion far into the interior
on a light-draft river steamer are not likely to
allure the traveller into this lurking place of the
pestilential mosquito and the deadly fever germ.
106
 A CRUISE TO CELEBES 107

Another service of the packet company, which

crosses to Bandjermasin and then continues to the
various ports of the east coast, gives a better idea
of the resources of the island and at a less risk, but
Borneo in its present state is far better suited to
the explorer or collector than to the usual traveller,
for the higher, healthier lands of the interior are
hardly accessible, and the coasts are unhealthy
and of no particular interest.
Borneo was for many years a cause of dispute
between England and Holland, and it was only in
1892 that the island was divided amicably be
tween them, England's suzerainty over the north
western third being recognized by her rival
claimant. The population of this great island
must necessarily be somewhat a matter of specu
lation, but it has been estimated at 1,700,000, of
which number over two-thirds are under the
protection of the Dutch. The bulk of the in
habitants are Dyaks, members of a race division
closely affiliated with the Malays. The Dyaks are
generally of sturdy build and splendid physique,
but ugly of face and thorough savages in mental
and moral characteristics.
Other lines of the packet company run to the
islands due east of Java, touching at points on
Flores and Timor and the Wetter, Kisser, and
Dammer groups and others of less importance.
One may even go on as far as the Aroe group and
the trading settlements on the west coast of New
108 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Guinea, the largest island in the world after

Greenland. * All these trips would doubtless prove
interesting, but they require an abundance of time
and offer fewer attractions than the six weeks'
cruise which takes one to the south and north of
Celebes, across the Molucca Passage to the most
northerly of the Moluccas, then by another ship
to the various spice islands to the south, finally
bringing one back to the starting point by way
of the Bandas and Macassar. It is on this last
cruise that we started from Soerabaya early in
December.
Our little vessel, the "Mossel," with an English-
speaking captain, electric lights, fans in the dining
saloon, plenty of Apollinaris water, and a first-class
bath-room, steamed out of the Soerabaya road
stead at noon, with a full complement of cabin
passengers, mostly Dutch officials and commercial
travellers bound for Macassar, the second stop.
Twenty-four hours later she came to anchor off
Boelelang, the port of Singaradja, chief town of
the island of Bali.
Bali is separated from Java by a narrow strait,
but presents wide differences in the matter of the
prosperity of the natives, their religion, and their
acceptance of the Dutch rule. The Balinese
alone of all the peoples of the Insulinde have
retained to this day the religion of the early Hindu
1 Australia is usually listed as a continent and not as an
island.
<
o
m
TW.

-
 A CRUISE TO CELEBES 109

settlers. They call themselves "men of Madjapa-

hit, " and indeed many of them are descendants
of subjects of the great Hindu kingdom of Eastern
Java of that name who fled across the straits
before the incursion of the Mahometans several
centuries ago. The same spirit which has kept
these people from the adoption of a strange faith
has also made them obstinate in combating the
efforts of the Dutch to subject them to foreign
rule, and, as late as 1908, expeditionary forces of
Hi
the colonial army have had bloody encounters
with the Balinese in which self-defence necessitated
the killing of native women as well as men. The
suzerain rights over Bali were surrendered to the
Dutch in 1743, by the then ruler of Solo, but even
to-day the footing of the Dutch in this island is
not firm, beyond the limits of a fringe of coast line.
There are a number of fine Hindu temple ruins
a couple of hours by sado from Boelelang, but
steamers rarely stop for a sufficient time to permit
of a visit. In the port itself the home and gardens
of the resident, the market, and a few squalid
streets prove of slight interest. The native kam-
pongs are enclosed by walls, the shops are run by
Chinese. On a short drive we noticed many
native women of superb figure, quite uncovered
to the waist-line.
Macassar, the greatest port in the Insulinde
east of Soerabaya, is a delightful voyage of some
what over twenty-four hours from Boelelang. Its

hi
no JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

appearance from the sea was uninviting, as we

looked upon its iron go-downs and whitewashed
houses facing- the green waters of the bay. We
knew that there were high mountains to the east,
but the dense haze limited our view to the flat,
featureless foreground. The town itself seemed
to be asleep, which indeed it is sure to be if the
hour of one's arrival is also that of the afternoon
siesta. This lazy-looking town is the capital of the
island of Celebes and one of the oldest and most
important centres of foreign trade and colonization
in the Indies.
Celebes itself is the fourth in size of the various
islands partly or wholly Dutch, surpassed in this
respect by New Guinea, Borneo, and Sumatra
alone. Its length is roughly about five hundred
miles, and its width is so varying that, while at the
middle it is a scant twenty miles, at the north end
it is over a hundred. Its coast line is remarkable
for irregularity and is so deeply indented by the
great bays or gulfs of Tomini, Tolo, and Boni that
it is small wonder that the first European arrivals
took it for a group of islands and gave it the name of
plural form which still perpetuates the very natural
mistake. The actual derivation of the name is in
doubt. It may have come from the Malay
words "si labih" signifying the "land up there,"
in which case the mistake was made of taking this
purely descriptive term to be the native name. '
'Another suggested derivation is " seli-besi " or " iron kris."
 A CRUISE TO CELEBES HI

Through the centre of the island from north to

south runs a chain of volcanic mountains, some of
the peaks rising to a height of 10,000 feet or more.
There are no rivers of commercial value. The
coast line is singularly free from marsh and swamp
lands and is accordingly healthier than that of
Java. The vegetation is almost identical with
that of the islands to the south, but the animal
life seems to be less rich in its variety of the larger
quadrupeds. The climate is unusually variable
for a region crossed by the equator, and the nights
are cool, even after the hottest days. Of the
central, interior districts little is known, except
that they are inhabited by savages of a low form
of intelligence and of head-hunting proclivities.
There are no railways in Celebes as yet, and inland
communications have been established only within
narrow limits. The population is estimated at a
million and a quarter.
It is said by one writer that Celebes was dis
covered by de Barros, a Portuguese, in 1525, by
another that there were Portuguese at Macassar as
early as 151 2. The natives were unfriendly at
the first, and there seems to have been no per
manent Portuguese settlement at Macassar till a
century later. Early in the seventeenth cen
tury the English and Dutch appeared on the
scene. In 1660-66, the Dutch, after decisive
victories on land and sea, succeeded in driving the
I"
Latins from Celebes and establishing themselves
112 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

in their stead. English attempts to supplant the

Dutch soon followed, but proved unsuccessful, and
the Dutch control has been continuous for over
two centuries and a half with the exception of the
one short period of British occupation in the early
nineteenth century. Dutch progress in Celebes
has been surprisingly slow. Even to-day, despite
the presence for years of missionaries, traders, and
troops, the natives of the interior are as hostile as
they dare to be, and only the Minahasa District
in the north, a small area in the neighbourhood of
Macassar, and a few scattered settlements in
near proximity to the coasts bear witness to the
advent of European civilization and rule. In
Central Celebes the head-hunting Toradjas remain
practically untamed, and it is quite possible that a
war will have to be waged against these savages
before the fertile lands where they dwell can be
opened to cultivation.
But let us return to Macassar, for the hour of
sleep is over and the wharves are swarming with
coolies and the usual crowd of hotel-runners,
money-changers, curio dealers, and loafers. The
people of this southern end of Celebes are nearly all
either Macassarese or Bugis. They resemble the
Javanese in face and figure, but are more sturdily
built and are decidedly less polite and pleasing
in bearing and manners. The Bugis are the sea
men of the Archipelago, the greatest navigators
and the most enterprising traders to-day, and in
 A CRUISE TO CELEBES 113

times gone by the greatest pirates as well. These

"orang kalasi" have as a rule repulsively cruel
features and look quite capable of sticking a kris
in one's back on the slightest provocation. They
have an unenviable reputation for dishonesty,
quick temper, and cruelty, and whatever tolerance
they show towards foreigners is due to fear alone.
All the people of the coast districts of Southern
Celebes are in religious proclivities Mahometan-
Animists—Mahometans in their profession of
faith, Animists and fetish-worshippers in their
practices. Traces of the ancient cult of phallic
worship are still to be found, supernatural powers
are attributed to certain animals and natural
objects, and even to the insignia of the chiefs,
yet at the same time fervent prayers are raised to
Allah.
A few steps back of the wharves and go-downs a
long street leads off to the left, with European offices
at its near end and Chinese and native shops
beyond. Directly before us, on a broad avenue,
sheltered by shade-trees, from the boughs of which
are suspended the street lamps, are the little hotel
and its more pretentious neighbour, the official
residence of the Governor of Celebes, a structure
of the usual classic type, pillared, porticoed, and
whitewashed, and fronting on a great open plein.
At the farther end of the plein is the new mu
seum, a building constructed after the native style
of architecture and housing an already valuable
 H4 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

collection of objects illustrative of the native arts

and industries,—models of dwellings, boats, and
vehicles, implements of trade, arms and armour,
jewelry, choice fabrics, and costumes. Nearer,
and to our right, is old Fort Rotterdam, its high
stone walls facing the water. It is still formidable
in aspect, though its moats are now dry and the
days of its glory long since faded away.
Fort Rotterdam is a relic of the time of Portu
guese supremacy and its capture by the Dutch sig
nalized the passing under their influence of the
whole southern end of Celebes. Above its rampart
rise the tiled roofs and steep gables of the thor
oughly Dutch yellow buildings, which serve as
barracks for the garrison or more accurately as
temporary homes for the native soldiery and their
families. Near by are two monuments,—one an
ugly shaft to a recent governor, the other a new
and quite imposing memorial to the soldiers of
the colonial army, killed in the Boni war of a few
' years ago, a war which was waged in the near
vicinity of Macassar and ended in the complete
rout of the Sultan of Boni and his ally the King
of Goa and the extension of Dutch rule over a
considerable area of country to the east.
The colonial army of Netherlands India deserves
more than a mere passing mention. It is a well-
organized body of about 35,000 men, one-third
Dutch and two-thirds native. Its officers are
nearly all Dutch, as are all the artillery gunners, a
 A CRUISE TO CELEBES 115

wise precaution in the possible event of native

mutiny. It is a volunteer force in the sense that
its ranks are not filled by conscription, and its pay
is small, natives receiving but eight to sixteen
cents gold a day and Europeans thirteen to eight
een. Not only uniforms are furnished free, but
also food and lodgings for the soldiers and their
entire families. Even the high private in the rear
rank has his wife and babies with him in the
barracks, and at times of active operations these
latter are taken along almost to the firing line.
Native prisoners are used as carriers of baggage
and ammunition. This force has probably seen
more active service than any other army of equal
size the world over, for in the extension of Dutch
dominion throughout the Insulinde the cases of
native rulers who have voluntarily surrendered
their authority are very few, and in some instances,
as for example in Atjeh,1 complete reduction and
pacification have been accomplished only after
years of bitter struggle.
Aside from the military forces quartered in Fort
Rotterdam, Macassar has a population of about
27,000, including a thousand odd Europeans and
some five thousand Chinese, but so many of the
inhabitants live in the outlying kampongs to the
north and south of the city proper, that it is hard
to realize that the figures have not been greatly
exaggerated. The houses of the kampongs vary
1 Sumatra.
u6 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

in many details from those to which we have

become accustomed in Java. They are generally
raised several feet above the ground on poles, and
have gabled roofs, shuttered windows, and con
siderable ornamentation in the way of carved
woodwork. The walls are of matting or of neatly
plaited bamboo, the roofs of "nipa" or palm-leaf
thatch.
A good idea of the native life may be had by
hiring a sado and taking the half-hour's drive to
the Tello River ferry. The ferry itself is a novelty.
The crossing is accomplished by means of large
flat boats drawn by chain cables and capable of
carrying a sado and ponies or a country cart and
its bullock team. The spot is said to be a favourite
haunt of crocodiles. We wonder if the fear of
these beasts and the feeling need of "Dutch
courage" to overcome the fear are responsible for
the number of native drinking houses close by.
On the way back, on the outskirts of the town, one
stops to see the ruins of what must have been in
former days imposing tombs, said to be those of
the one-time sovereigns, the Mahometan princes.
They are rapidly disintegrating, and in a few
years will probably be quite hidden by the verdure
of the tropical jungle, which in these regions so
quickly reclaims its lost ground on the slightest
opportunity. Already the stones of the tombs are
being forced apart and the walls thrown down by
this exuberant growth of vegetation.
 A CRUISE TO CELEBES 117

Before leaving Macassar, we took, with an in

terpreter sent by the courtesy of the governor, the
hot, dull drive to Goa. There is but little shade
on the level road that leads eastward between the
sawahs to the so-called palace occupied by the
family of the late king, but the natives and their
pink-white carbos were all hard at work preparing
the soggy soil for the coming crops in utter dis
regard of heat and mud, and we felt ashamed to
complain, though the sun almost dazed us as we
sat in our roomy mylord.
At the dingy, dilapidated dwelling of Goanese
royalty we ascended a steep flight of steps to a
large upstairs balcony, where we were presented
to the princess, a comely, dignified woman, who
welcomed us politely and had us served with
refreshments, then sent for her children, had us
shown the audience or reception hall, offered us
cigars, and asked many questions. The inter
preter unfortunately knew practically no English,
so, although every question was answered, I dread
to think of what may have been said or left
unsaid. With a good interpreter we might
have got a great deal of interesting information,
but as it was we learned nothing of anything and
felt decidedly disgruntled thereby. One of the
small boys brought up to see us wore a large gold
coin on his chest, suspended by a gold chain of
exquisite workmanship, the four ends of which
were joined behind his shoulders like the cross
n8 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

belts of the West Point cadets. As the other

children wore simply body kains, bracelets, and
anklets, there was probably some reason for this
distinctive adornment, but we could not find it
out. One thing, however, we could understand
and appreciate, and that, the chief decoration of
the balcony or verandah,—a gaily coloured, framed
chromo of a group of American girls and men
enjoying an al fresco lunch beside a motor-car.
The accompanying letter-press bore the words, in
English, "What more can you want? A picnic, a
car, and the greatest of luxuries, a Young American
cigar. " It certainly is astonishing to find to what
remote corners of the earth Yankee enterprise
has gone in its search for new markets and in
the exploitation of its goods.
At some distance beyond the "palace" we called
on the Dutch resident official in his little govern
ment bungalow beside the most important of the
neighbouring villages. From him we learned that
the authorities were just about to grant the young
prince the privilege of assuming his hereditary
position at the head of the native chiefs of Celebes ;
also that the inland limits of the kingdom of Goa
are at a distance of a two or three days' journey.
Whatever the area of this domain, its revenues
must be small or diverted by the authorities from
their natural trend, else the ruling family would
surely live amid less commonplace surroundings.
As it is, the differences between the "palace" and
 119

4ight
n the
i hall,
>-e the
i stalks

rbour of
, leaving
e Archi-
bouquet-
coast for
1 renders
hing over
d of Borneo,
dolphins and
if the Macas-
to a wharf at
likpappan, the
juntry. There
passengers left,
luxury of eating
ility when there

tarlight is a scene
\ hills shimmering
the lights of the
employees, but the
; disillusioning to a
uld hardly imagine a
the most remote way
 A CRUISE TO CELEBES 119

the houses of the well-to-do peasants are so slight

that the most easily perceptible are found in the
size, the presence or absence of a reception hall,
and the solid wooden floors which replace the
usual, uncertain underfooting of bamboo stalks
covered with thatch.
The steamer as it passes out of the harbour of
Macassar takes a course nearly due west, leaving
to starboard the dangerous Spermunde Archi
pelago, a group of coral reefs and small, bouquet
like islands which stretches along the coast for
thirty or forty miles to the north, and renders
navigation extremely difficult. In something over
twelve hours we sighted the great island of Borneo,
and in twelve more we had left the dolphins and
flying-fish and the pleasant breezes of the Macas
sar Straits behind and were tied up to a wharf at
the far end of the fine harbour of Balikpappan, the
principal petroleum port of the country. There
were but a handful of first-cabin passengers left,
and we were enabled to enjoy the luxury of eating
our meals on deck, an impossibility when there
is a full cabin list.
The bay of Balikpappan by starlight is a scene
of great beauty, the surrounding hills shimmering
like a veritable fairyland with the lights of the
oil-works and the houses of the employees, but the
port of Balikpappan by day is disillusioning to a
degree that irritates. One could hardly imagine a
place less suggestive in even the most remote way

x
120 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

of the Borneo of one's fancy, the land of the wild

Dyak, the orang-utan, and the great constrictor
snakes, the land of vast impenetrable jungle and
mosquito-infested swamps. We saw before us
here a collection of ugly oil-tanks and office build
ings, a few dozen ramshackle native shacks,
wharves, go-downs, several European bungalows
on the hillside above,—and that is all. The whole
scene was unpleasantly reminiscent of Bayonne,
New Jersey, mosquitoes and all. There were not
even any native craft on the waters of the bay,—
only tank steamers and a few launches. The oil-
works are not only not native but they are not
Dutch, except in ownership, being leased by a
British corporation for a long term of years.
Our steamer took a short time to discharge cargo
at the petroleum port and then steamed slowly
back towards Celebes,—slowly because, if she hur
ried, she would arrive at the next stopping-place
at night, and the coral reefs must be approached
or threaded in broad daylight if one would avoid
almost certain disaster. As Borneo was left be
hind, a few wading birds with great length of leg
came aboard and several were caught by the
native sailors. As we neared the coast of Celebes,
a range of lofty mountains became visible and
many indentations of the shore line, evidently
great bays. After running along the coast for
many hours, we turned in and came to anchor a
half-mile from a beach of gleaming white sand,
s
 A CRUISE TO CELEBES 121

opposite a fringe of palms and a row of fisher

men's cottages which formed, a most delectable
landscape. This is the once piratical village of
Paleleh, now a trading and fishing settlement of
about 3000 people.
The method of landing here is rather primitive,
for the reef prevents even the smaller ship's boats
from landing on the dry beach beyond. One must
take a native craft for the first part of the trip and
trust to a native back for the remainder of the way.
Our first conveyance was a catamaran dugout, a
somewhat unsteady hollowed-out log, supported
on either side at a distance of two or three yards
by bamboo outriggers and propelled by the exer
tions of two small natives seated in bow and stern.
Once safely ashore we found little to see that was
as enjoyable as the first view from the water.
The village and its setting of beach and palms
reminded us of Samoa and there were the same
balmy, listless air, the same quiet restfulness which
give the islands of the South Pacific their alluring
charm. At first it is hard to see why this place is
considered sufficiently important for a stopping-
place, but the reason lies in the presence of valu
able gold-mines in the back-country, which employ
over three thousand coolies. Paleleh is the nearest
point at which to land supplies, human and
other.

-
 CHAPTER VII
IN THE MINAHASA DISTRICT, NORTH CELEBES

MENADO, the most northerly port of Celebes

and the capital of the residency of Menado,
is about four hundred miles north and three
hundred east from Macassar, if we follow the coast
line, but the voyage is very much lengthened by
the zigzag course by way of Borneo, and takes, with
stops, about four days and a half. Menado is a
town of over 10,000 inhabitants, but from our
anchorage in the bay nothing was visible of the
foreign and Chinese settlements, save a few
thatched roofs and walls peeping through the
trees and bushes behind the palm-sheltered,
glistening beach. Across a stream to the left, on
which several native sail-boats were lazily drifting,
we could see a native village perched high above
the water on stilt-like piles, and in the background
rolling hills and, rising above them, the upper
slopes of the volcano, Klabat, 6700 feet in eleva
tion. In a diametrically opposite position, behind
us towards the sea to the north-west, was another
volcano, a regular and shapely pyramid, Tua
Menado.
122
 MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 123

Aside from scenic advantages, the Menado

anchorage leaves much to be desired, for, during
the west or bad monsoon, the bay is exposed to the
full force of the strong winds, and heavy seas
prevail, with towering waves that break against the
frail-looking iron pier and threaten to demolish it
at any minute. At such times even triply anchored
ships have been known to be carried ashore or
on the reef. Another danger arises from the
sudden dropping off of the bottom, there being
within a few cable lengths a difference in soundings
from a hundred and fifty fathoms to but two or
three. The buoys to which the ships are moored
lie in nearly forty fathoms, yet less than a hundred
yards nearer the beach even row-boats run
aground. In addition to these floating buoys
there are others, high on the beach, by which during
the south-east monsoon ships are also secured.
During the prevalence of the bad monsoon ships
are often obliged to go for anchorage and the
discharge of cargo to Kema, a point some twenty
miles distant by bullock-cart on the east coast.
We were fortunate enough to be able to land at
Menado, but the sea was too high to permit use
of the pier and we landed on the beach, coming in
through the surf in the ship's boats. From the
beach we proceeded to the hotel on foot, following
a bullock-cart loaded with our baggage.
Our primitive little hotel was presided over by
an accommodating vrouw who did her best to
124 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

make her guests comfortable under almost pro

hibitory conditions. The general scheme of
arrangement included, as in Java, a central
building for dining-room, kitchen, and office, with
a deep verandah. This was supplemented by
side galleries of bedrooms, with covered spaces in
front, fitted with tables and "long-sleeved" chairs.
Our rooms were dark, the whitewash and plaster
dilapidated and soiled, the floors bare, and in
the thatched ceilings there were unpleasant holes
through which it was hard not to imagine spiders
or centipedes dropping at any moment. There
were no closets and there was no running water.
A visit to the washstand or the mosquito-curtained
clothes-rack meant exposure to dozens of bites
from a foe that did not fight fairly as at home but
attacked noiselessly and with a venom far more
disquieting. The beds were covered with netting,
but required considerable treatment with adhesive
plaster before they proved satisfactorily mosquito-
proof. It was necessary for comfort to dress and
undress within the netting, and the only relief
from the pests was obtainable by smearing oneself
with an oil of eucalyptus, the strong odour of
which is at first extremely disagreeable. Besides
the mosquitoes and ourselves, our rooms were
inhabited by numbers of unobjectionable gekkos, a
few poisonous-looking spiders, and colonies of red
ants. The sanitary arrangements were enough to
give one a cold chill, and a visit to one of the
 Photo by the Author
A HOUSE IN THE EUROPEAN QUARTER, MEN ADO
 MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 125

' ' private apartments " with its row of water bottles,
its lone towel, and its countless beetles, spiders, and
cockroaches, was a nightmare. Room slops were
emptied with a minimum of formality, being
simply dumped out of the nearest door or window.
The native "boys" were good-natured, but stupid
and lazy, always shirking work if there was any
chance to do so. The food was better than one
might expect after a taste of the other delights of
hotel life in Menado.
The hotel, however, proved by far the least
agreeable feature of the town, and a walk through
the charming avenues of kanaris and tamarinds,
past gay hedges and gardens bright with flowers,
and a visit to the market in the Chinese Camp
quite reconciled us to the discomforts which
greeted us within doors. The town is indeed a
garden town, the very embodiment of quiet content
and lazy living. Nature has been so profuse with
her gifts in this beauty land of the Minahasa that
the struggle for existence cuts a relatively small
figure in the life and cares of the native. Excess
of wealth is of little benefit here and fashion is
non-existent. There is no occasion for hurry or
worry and everyone has the time and the inclina
tion to be polite. Prosperity seems the rule and all
the well-to-do residents have their own carts and
ponies, with the result that there is no occasion
for a livery stable, and the visitor is sometimes put
to some trouble to obtain a vehicle for a drive.
126 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

The one historic building of Menado is Fort

Amsterdam, a structure of no possible protective
value to-day. It is said to date back to Portu
guese days of the sixteenth century, but it was
rebuilt by the Dutch about two hundred years
ago. It stands facing the sea at a short distance
from the beach and practically divides the com
mercial Chinese part of the town from the Euro
pean residential section. At close range it looks
more like a piece of stage setting than a real thing,
but it has doubtless served its purpose against
pirates and head-hunting natives, and even now
it has a certain utility in enclosing the quarters
of the colonial garrison. The quarters of the
white officers, the hospital, and the various de
partmental headquarters are at some distance, in
the centre of the European settlement.
The troops are very much in evidence in Menado,
and we were continually meeting detachments of
them "hiking" about under Dutch officers. They
are rather slovenly in set-up and of poor physique,
their blue uniforms are rarely in good condition,
and their feet are sometimes bare. On their
heads they wear brown, polished straw hats of the
type known to us as "Fedora," with the brims
turned up in "Rough Rider " style.
Back of the fort are the tokos or shops of the
Chinese, who, here as elsewhere in the Indies,
control the retail trade, and in addition have built
up large interests in the wholesale export and
 Photo by the Author
THE FRONT WALL OF FORT, MENADO

Photo by the Author

THE SIDE VIEW OF FORT, MENADO
L
 •
MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 127

import trade of the region. There are nearly

three thousand Chinese in Menado town, and the
majority have married native women and have
large numbers of children.
We soon noticed two great differences from
what we had seen before in Java and in Southern
Celebes. Here the dwellings of the Europeans are
of wood, instead of stone, the roofs are thatched
instead of tiled, and the houses of the natives have
front steps and covered piazzas and are adorned
with hanging lamps like the Europeans'. The
native costume, too, especially in the case of the
men, closely approximates that of the Dutch, for
hats, coats, and trousers are very generally worn,
while the Dutch vrouws affect, for all but out-door
or formal use, the comfortable and picturesque
sarong and jacket.
There are a remarkably large number of half-
castes in Menado, and it is not surprising, for the
Minahasa women are good-looking, sweet in dis
position, and make, according to general report,
excellent wives and mothers. Practically all the
natives are Christians, and their amiability, docil
ity, and comparative freedom from every form of
vice speak volumes for the early missionaries who
converted them. I saw not a single native drunk
during our ten days' stay in the district, and not
one native in any way disorderly.
Of many attractive walks in Menado, the
favourite with residents and visitors alike is that
128 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

which leads past the side of the club and climbs the
hillside in its rear. The broad, level top of the
hill is laid out as a park, with flower beds, summer-
houses, and even swings for the amusement of the
children ; but its chief attractions lie in the beauti
ful view it affords of the blue harbour and the
town half-hidden by waving palms and the thick
foliage of splendid shade-trees, and in the fresh,
pure air of its higher elevation. When less as
piring we enjoyed strolling, early in the morning
or at sunset, along the beach, watching the breakers
and the hundreds of curious, single-clawed crabs,
scurrying about in comical fashion on their long,
stilt-like legs.
The interior of the Minahasa is even more
delightful to the eye than the coast and far more
healthy. It is a drive of four hours to Tondano,
the capital of the inland district, and a drive which
gives one a thorough idea of the natural beauty
of this delectable paradise of the tropics. Our
conveyances were light, open, two-wheeled carts,
hardly more than seats on wheels, and our steeds
diminutive, half-broken ponies, one of which
trotted, or was supposed to trot, between the
shafts, the other running alongside after the
Russian fashion. Unfortunately the harness was
a wretched, primitive affair, half rope and half
rotten leather, and the drivers of the Minahasa
are probably the worst drivers in the world, a
combination that boded evil from the start, and
 MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 129

lent a flavour of excitement and danger to the

drive which would destroy much of the pleasure for
a timid or nervous passenger. My "outfit" was,
I think, no worse than the average, yet twice I
escaped an overturn by the narrowest margin,
and we finally arrived at the end of the twenty-
two miles with the dashboard kicked to frag
ments, the traces broken, and the outside ponyt
led behind the cart in disgrace by a neck rope,
the remains of his harness reposing on the bottom
of the vehicle.
The road is a constant series of delightful view
points. It leads up-hill for perhaps half of the
way, rising gradually along the shoulder of an
inactive volcano, Lokon (5000 feet high). From
time to time there are charming vistas towards
the sea behind, and, close by, hedges ablaze with
scarlet hibiscus and the wild climbing rose, and
gardens bright with hollyhocks, wonderful cro-
tons, pink ixoras, and a profusion of other gorgeous
flowers of the tropics. Now and again one passes
one of the civilized little native villages, where the
descendants of head-hunting savages belie their
ancestry and live peaceable, orderly lives, in neat
little two-storied, gabled cottages with raised
verandahs, surrounded by gardens and orchards,
going to church and school as if they had done so
from time immemorial. Unfortunately they have
occasionally gone almost too far in their adoption
of western ways, for the outer walls of some
9
130 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

houses are decorated with the coloured supple

ments of the European weeklies, and hideous
hanging lamps disfigure the front verandahs,
while in many cases the picturesque thatched
roofs have been discarded for the uglier but more
practical ones of corrugated iron. It is said that
some of the "older families" still preserve heir
looms in the form of small collections of skulls,
proofs of ancestral prowess, but if so they keep
them well out of sight and show no desire to
exhibit them to visitors. These villages are
under the charge of native "majors" or "cap
tains," successors of former chiefs, who are re
sponsible to the Dutch officials for the order,
health, and general well-being of their communities.
The politeness of the natives of the Minahasa
comes to the traveller as a pleasurable surprise.
Every man we met along the road removed his
hat and bowed as we passed, often wishing us
good-day. Farm waggons, with their teams of
bullocks and rounded or high, arched tops of
thatch, were hurriedly drawn to the side of the
road as our driver signalled our approach by shrill
blasts on a toy whistle, and their peasant occupants
alighted and stood hat in hand as we passed, and
all this was done with no apparent feeling of re
sentment or annoyance.
In view of this present civilization and civility
it is interesting to read what Wallace, the great
naturalist, has to say of the former life of the
 MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 131

natives: "Up to a very recent period these

people were thorough savages. The inhabitants
of the several villages were distinct tribes, each
under its own chief, speaking languages unin
telligible to each other, and almost always at war.
They built their houses elevated upon lofty posts
to defend themselves from the attacks of their
enemies. They were head hunters like the Dyaks
of Borneo, and were said to be sometimes canni
bals. When a chief died, his tomb was adorned
with two fresh human heads; and if those of
enemies could not be obtained, slaves were killed
for the occasion. Human skulls were the great
ornaments of the chiefs' houses. Strips of bark
were their only dress. The country was a path
less wilderness, with small cultivated patches of
rice and vegetables, or clumps of fruit-trees,
diversifying the otherwise unbroken forest. Their
religion was that naturally engendered in the
undeveloped human mind by the contemplation
of grand natural phenomena and the luxuriance
of tropical nature. The burning mountain, the
torrent, and the lake, were the abodes of their
deities; and certain trees and birds were supposed
to have especial influence over men's actions and
destiny. They held wild and exciting festivals to
propitiate these deities or demons; and believed
that men could be changed by them into animals
either during life or after death. Such was their
condition down to the year 1822."
132 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

As we approached the higher country the

sawahs began to become less common, and coffee,
cocoa, and nutmeg plantations were the features of
the cultivated tracts. We passed for several miles
through wild, hilly lands, rich in graceful tree-
ferns, and huge fronds, magnificent shade-trees
and creepers, climbers, and orchids, ravines, hot
springs, mountain brooks, and waterfalls. The
natural beauty of this region is almost bewildering
in its variety and intensity. There is almost too
much to be admired, and one carries away a
realization that he has seen a number of the most
beautiful spots on earth, but lacks distinct remem
brance of the details of any one of them.
At Tomohon, 2500 feet above sea-level, we drew
up by the roadside to rest our undeserving ponies
under the sheltering branches of a wide-spreading
shade-tree. The village is a marvel of cleanliness,
and prides itself on a stone church, a hospital,
and several other substantial buildings. Passing
on, we noticed acres of swamp land covered
with sagueir palms, the trees from the sap of
which the natives make a sort of wine; later we
came again into a region of coffee plantations, and
finally dashed in a mad whirl into the town or
village of Tondano, our destination.
Tondano is a settlement of about 10,000, near
the north end of a mountain lake some eight miles
long. Its altitude of 2300 feet and its consequent
freedom from fevers have made it a favourite holi-
 MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 133

day resort for the European residents of Menado,

of whom there are some six hundred. It is a
clean, prosperous-looking place, set in a lovely
country, but the accommodations for visitors are
limited to a few rooms in a hotel or rest-house
run by a service-expired Dutch soldier. Mos
quitoes are few here, and there is a life in the air
which, with the cool nights, gives one an unac
customed energy and appetite and an ability to
sleep soundly.
I had a rather peculiar experience on going to
bed the night of our arrival. When I put my
head on the pillow, there followed a sensation of
sound and movement which caused me to get up in
a hurry and shake out the pillow-case. To my
utter surprise and our mutual discomfiture, out
dropped an extremely nervous lizard, a foot long,
grey in colour, with large pinkish spots, and gifted
with a very large head. These animals are abso
lutely harmless, but one hardly cares to share
one's bed with one.
Tondano is in the centre of a region of woods
and coffee plantations. It has a reputation among
the natives of the whole eastern half of the Insu-
linde as the site of a school for the sons and heirs
of the native chiefs of the Outer Possessions.
It has also a reputation with lovers of scenic
beauty by reason of its famous waterfall, Tonsea
Lama. It is a walk of perhaps half a mile to the
picturesque spot in the woods where the best view
134 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

is to be had of the boisterous stream as it drops

from gorge to gorge over a wall of rock a hundred
feet high. The fall and its surroundings remind
one of the celebrated Kegon-no-taki, near Chiu-
zenji, in the mountainous district of Nikko, Japan,
but the scene here is much wilder, the rocks are
covered with heavy moss, and the vegetation is
that of the tropical jungle. The stream to which
we are indebted for this, the finest known water
fall in Celebes, is the same that we had already
seen at Menado, and its source is the Lake of
Tondano, a sheet of water beautiful at its far
end, where it is shut in on the west by wooded
hills, but less attractive at the end nearest the
village, where the shores are flat and given over
to rice-fields.
Long after the first appearance of Portuguese
priests at Menado in 1563, and even after the
arrival of the Dutch in 1655, in fact as late as the
beginning of the nineteenth century, the natives
of Tondano lived, for protection, in houses built
on piles over the waters of the lake. The name
Tondano is a corruption of "toudano, " a com
pound formed from "tou, " men, and "dano,"
water. In former days the social system was
probably matriarchal, as in the central highlands
of Sumatra to this day, for the local word for
"family" means in its most literal interpretation
"suckled with the same milk." Many of the old
customs are still found in the country about the
 MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 135

lake. The mother-in-law taboo would delight the

professional jokers of our home papers. It is
"posan" or taboo for a man even to look at his
mother-in-law as he passes her, and should he be
obliged for any reason to mention her he spends
the following minutes in careful expectoration.
This mother-in-law prejudice and the practice of
elopement seem to be in all countries the last
surviving relics of a former state of savagery,
relics too much a part of human nature to be got
rid of.
As we have learned from Wallace, the inhabi
tants of the Minahasa were members in former
days of many individual tribes of different dia
lects. This condition has been changed by the
teaching of Malay in the government schools, and
in a few years it seems likely that most, if not all,
of the dialects will have entirely disappeared.
The name Minahasa means a bonding or binding
together (from "ni," the sign of the substantive, and
"mahasa," to bind, joined and then transposed for
euphony) : the binding together of the tribes into
one civilized, peaceful people is the task which the
Dutch are accomplishing slowly but surely to-day.
In Tondano itself there is nothing of sufficient
interest to detain the visitor but the schools. The
former government coffee go-down, however, now
used as a jail, recalls the fact that this was a few
years ago one of the most important of the many
districts where "forced cultivation" and govern
136 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

ment monopoly of coffee sales brought riches to

the Dutch and poverty to the natives. In 1822,
an ordinance was put in force under which every
native not actually engaged in trade was obliged
to plant at least twenty-five coffee-trees a year on
land reserved for the purpose by the authorities,
to gather the berries, and to sell them to the
government at a nominal price fixed by it, often
hardly a fourth of the market price in the port.
Not only was a large part, generally a fifth, of
the native land thus set aside for the profit of
the Dutch, but a considerable part of the natives'
time had to be given up. In return, there were
no taxes to be paid, to be sure, but in land, time,
crops, and labour the native was forced to give
up far more than could ever have been wrung out of
him in money or in produce alone. Perhaps the
most unfair feature of this system was that the
enormous profits of the government were sent to
the home country instead of being used for the
benefit of the country whence they sprang. The
system was applied in all parts of the Insulinde,
and the government monopolized practically all
the valuable products, spices, sugar, tea, teak, and
many other things. To-day the "forced culture"
system still survives in Sumatra and elsewhere
to some extent, but it is gradually drawing in its
fangs, and in a great part of the Insulinde it has
already vanished. In the Minahasa it has been
replaced by a poll, or head, tax of six and a half
•j.a
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 MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 137

guilders (two dollars and sixty cents gold) a year

on all males above the age of sixteen.
Our return trip to Menado we varied agreeably
by taking a detour which led through the hot-
springs village of Ayer Madidi (hot water). For
several miles the road followed the river valley
and stretched along the hillside far above the
turbulent stream, looking down upon a scene
lovely beyond description. It is curious how one
is constantly reminded, in this Minahasa country,
of the mountain districts of Japan. This road,
for example, notwithstanding its absolute dissimu-
larity in vegetation, recalls time and time again
the famous road from Yumoto to Miyanoshita.
The whole region is certainly one of the most
beautiful in any part of the known world, and we
felt inclined to apply to it a distortion of the
Japanese saying about Nikko, and to say, "He
who has not seen the Minahasa cannot properly
use the word 'beautiful.'" jJ-
The natural wealth of this fertile land of North •
Celebes is prodigious, and, when we add the value
of the results of human labour, the figures are
tremendous for a country of a population so
comparatively small. From Menado the yearly
export of copra, for instance, amounts in value
to over a million dollars gold. In the same
period of time over a hundred and fifty tons of
coffee berries, over seven hundred and fifty tons
of nutmeg, over a hundred tons of mace, and
138 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

smaller but valuable amounts of cocoa, vanilla,

rattan, hardwoods, and horses are shipped. The
total value of the annual exports of Menado is
considerably in excess of two million dollars gold.
The animal life of Celebes is remarkable for
several curious and unfamiliar varieties, among
others, the "sapi-utan," a sort of wild ox-antelope;
the ' ' babi-rusa, ' ' a pig-deer, as its name implies ; the
"tarsier," a lemur of rat size with woolly fur, long
bushy, pointed tail, and disproportionately large
eyes; the "maleo," a sort of brush turkey, which
lays its huge eggs (over half as large as those of the
ostrich) deep in the sand for the sun to hatch ; and
the "cuscus" or phalanger. There are also gaily
plumaged, shrill-voiced lories and lorikeets, gor
geous butterflies, and fish of brilliant colouring,
besides the usual domestic animals and a plenty
of wild deer and hogs.
During our absence from Menado the strong
wind piled up the seas to such an extent that on
our return there was not a ship or boat to be seen
in the bay, and we fully expected to be obliged to
take the tedious trip by bullock-cart to Kema to
board the steamer, but luckily the weather modera
ted at the last moment, and the "Mossel" was able
to anchor at Menado on her return from her voyage
to the island groups farther north. We found
Menado, none the less, a difficult place to leave.
For hours we tried in vain to hire a cart to take
our baggage to the beach, and having finally over
 MENADO, NORTH CELEBES 139

come this difficulty and safely conducted a candle

light parade to the point of embarkation, we found
another struggle necessary before we could find
anyone to row us to the steamer for any sum within
reason. In the end we were obliged to turn over
our baggage to the tender mercies of a thoroughly
disreputable-looking lot of natives and to see it
vanish in the dark in the wrong direction, while
we were rowed to the ship ourselves in a small boat
sent for the convenience of a Dutch army officer,
who was to be a fellow-passenger to the Moluccas.
I shall never forget the intense feeling of satis
faction with which I witnessed the safe arrival
of that baggage just as we had given it up for lost.

"
 CHAPTER VIII

THE VOLCANIC ISLAND OF TERNATE, ONE OF THE

ORIGINAL SPICE ISLANDS

THE voyage across the Molucca Passage to

Ternate is one of roughly a hundred miles,
and the steamers generally take their departure
from Menado in the afternoon and arrive at their
destination early the next morning. The " Mossel"
followed this schedule, and we enjoyed our last
views of the beautiful Minahasa amid all the
glories of a wonderful tropical sunset. After
rounding the north end of Celebes the steamer
threads the narrow straits which separate the
Bangka group of islands from their greater
neighbour, before taking her final leave of land
and pointing due east for the Moluccas. The
views that we had as we steamed slowly through
the straits:—to starboard, Klabat and other great
mountains of the Minahasa rising above the banks
of fleecy clouds that nestled in the deep valleys
near the sea,—to port, a succession of charming
little islands, masses of green overgrown to the
very water's edge after the true fashion of the
140
f
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 141

jungle. This scene, viewed in the ever-changing

vivid colouring of the afterglow of an equatorial
sunset is, I think, the finest that I have ever seen
from a steamer deck.
As we approached Ternate in the pink glow of
sunrise, another unusual sight greeted us,—an
imposing line of volcanic cones, towering above the
sea like so many sentinels or outposts guarding
the great island of Halmaheira, whose mountain
spine could be seen stretching like a long, blue-
grey ribbon along the dim horizon. There is
something peculiarly grim and awe-inspiring in the
sight of so many volcanoes at one time, and one
is apt to experience a strong sense of littleness and
weakness, that feeling which has been described by
one sensitive traveller as the "wormy " feeling. As
we continued towards Ternate one after another
of the stately pyramids was left behind, and at last
we passed, through a narrow opening between the
two largest, into the harbour of Ternate, and tied
up to a landing pier almost in the shadow of the
great irregular mass of Mt. Ternate.
The bay is very lovely, with water deep blue
and clear as crystal, and beaches of coral sand as
white as snow. The encircling hills are green to
their very tops, and above rise the two volcanoes,—-
the tapering cone of Tidore and the great, shape
less mass of Mt. Ternate (a regular and perfect
pyramid when seen from another point of view),
their summits over 5500 feet above the sea. The
142 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

picturesque charms of Ternate have been sung to

fame by the Portuguese poet Camoens, and they
are richly deserving of the praise accorded them.
The town of Ternate is situated at the foot of
the mountain and on the south-eastern shore
of the island. It is one of the oldest trading ports
of the Archipelago, and the chief town of the resi
dency of Ternate.1 The island is purely volcanic,
consisting of the great crater mountain, a small
area of surrounding level, composed mainly of
lava and other products of past eruptions, and
more or less extensive accretions due to coral
formations. Ages of fertilizing rains and the life-
giving sunshine of the tropics softened these
constituent elements into a rich, productive soil
long before the era of European discovery, and
by the time of the advent of the Portuguese in
151 1 the island was covered with forests and
plantations, and was the richest of the Spice
Islands, the home, in particular of the clove-
tree. As we have already seen in the Introductory
Chapter, the reports of the great wealth of the
Spice Islands spread early throughout Europe,
and the desire to secure direct trade in their
valuable products was the stimulus which
prompted the early European navigators in their
adventurous voyages on unknown seas. In those
1 Ternate residency includes the islands of Halmaheira and
Batjan, the Obi and Soela groups, together with Western New
Guinea and the smaller islands adjacent to the latter.
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 143

days the term Spice Islands or Moluccas was

applied only to Ternate, Tidore, and the islands
directly south of these, as far as and including
Batjan.
Before the coming of the Europeans the Sultans
of the Moluccas had amassed enormous fortunes
by monopolizing the trade to their own individual
profit. In place of taxes, their subjects were
obliged to give part of their land and labour to the
cultivation of clove-trees, the product going to the
rulers and being sold by them at a huge profit to
Arab or Chinese traders. Nutmeg and mace were
in like manner cultivated for the benefit of the
native rulers in other islands to the south and
east. During the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries the principal rulers of the Spice Islands
were the Sultans of Ternate, Tidore, Halmaheira,
and Batjan.
On reading Francis Drake's description of
the regal appearance of the most powerful
and wealthy of these monarchs, the Sultan
of Ternate, we can well understand the appeal
of the Moluccas to the cupidity and avarice of
the early adventurers. Drake says: "From
his waste downe to the ground was all cloth of
Gold and the same very rich ; his legges were bare,
but on his feet were a payre of shoes made of
Cordovant skinne. In the attyre of his head were
finely wreathed hooped Rings of Gold, and about
his necke hee had a chayne of perfect Gold, the
144 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

links whereof were great and one-fold double.

On his fingers hee had six very faire Jewels; and
setting in his Chaire of Estate, at his right hand
stood a Page with a Fanne in his hand, breathing
and gathering the Ayre to the King. The Fanne
was in length two foot and in bredth one foot,
set with eight Saphres, richly embroydered, and
knit to a Staffe three foot in length."1
The first Europeans to arrive in the Spice
Islands were the Portuguese under Antonio de
Abreu, part of an expedition sent east from
Malacca by the then Viceroy of India, Alfonso de
Albuquerque, to explore the Archipelago and to
inquire into the possibilities of entering into
direct trade relations with the natives. These
first-corners made a thorough investigation of
conditions, filled their ships with valuable cargoes,
and sailed away to Portuguese India with glowing
reports of their discoveries. Other expeditions
quickly followed, and within a decade a trade of
considerable importance had been built up and
several "factories" had been established, among
others one at Ternate. For the protection of this
last against possible attack by piratical natives
or commercial rivals a small fort was erected and
garrisoned by the Portuguese Captain de Britto,
in 1 52 1. The very next year arrived the two re
maining ships of the expedition under Magellan,
which had sailed westward two years before in the
1 Purchas, edition of 1905, vol. ii, p. 144.
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 145

hope of reaching these islands, and the Spanish

at once claimed the right to trade.
During the next few years there were constant
collisions between the two rivals, and the native
sultans were dragged into the disagreements and
forced to take sides with the disputants. The
wrangling and petty struggles which ensued lasted
for many years, but the principal dispute was
settled in 15291 by a treaty, under the terms of
which Portugal was left undisturbed in her politi
cal and commercial supremacy throughout the
Insulinde. At first the Portuguese were content
with the legitimate profits of this lucrative trade,
but as the years went by they became more grasp
ing, and their high-handed methods aroused a
hatred on the part of the natives, which eventually
culminated in revolt and bitter warfare, in some
cases so serious as to compel the temporary with
drawal of the Portuguese from their posts.
When the Dutch appeared on the scene in 1605,
the Portuguese star was on the wane. Spain had
annexed Portugal and her possessions and taken
over many of her forts and trading-posts in the
Archipelago, while others were in the possession of
the natives. Her sea power had rapidly diminished ,
and it was not long before the coalition of the
English and Dutch drove the Latins from
the Moluccas. The Dutch, taking advantage of
the greater interest of the English in the Asiatic
1 See Introductory Chapter.
146 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

mainland, established themselves firmly in the

islands, and availed themselves of the strong
hatred of the natives for the Portuguese to enter
into treaty relations with the sultans, agreeing,
in consideration of being given a practical mono
poly of the spice trade, to protect the native
rulers against their former foes and oppressors.
Within a few years, owing to a variety of causes,
a much more drastic policy was adopted. The
fear of a Spanish attack from the near-by Philip
pines, English attempts to treat and trade with the
natives, and the willingness of the latter to enter
into intrigues with the English, the difficulty of
protecting possessions at so great a distance from
their headquarters at Batavia, and the impossi
bility of effectively controlling the spice trade
while the area of cultivation remained so widely
distributed throughout the islands, combined to
force upon the Dutch measures looking to the
centralization of spice cultivation within a limited
area and one better adapted for protection and
supervision. Fresh treaties were made with the
Moluccan sultans, providing that the latter were
to be upheld in their sovereignty by the military
and naval force at the command of the "Oest
Indische Campagnie" and to be granted certain
annual pensions by the Dutch. In return all spice-
trees, except in certain islands expressly desig
nated by the Dutch, were to be destroyed, and no
others to be planted or raised except by order.
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 147

Under this arrangement the native rulers were

assured of a certain annual income, and of pro
tection, and the Dutch accomplished their end,
and were left in a position to control the produc
tion and sale of cloves and nutmegs. The people
of the islands suffered little, if at all, under these
treaties, for they were no longer forced to give so
much time and labour to the cultivation of crops
which in no wise accrued to their own personal
benefit, and as a consequence were able to devote
more attention to the raising of food crops and to
their individual industries.
As a result of these agreements spice-trees
almost wholly disappeared from the original
Spice Islands, the Dutch selecting the island of
Amboina (farther to the south) for their clove
plantations and the Banda Islands for the cultiva
tion of the nutmeg. Thus in one fell blow the
commercial importance of the more northerly
islands was killed, and, since that time, foreign
shipping has rarely visited their ports, and their
towns have gradually dwindled in population and
wealth, the more progressive inhabitants preferring
to seek fields of activity with greater possibilities
of advance. It is only recently that the increased
demand for rubber and copra has instilled fresh
hope in the future of these regions and made it
possible that some day there may be a renewal
of the prosperity for which they were for so
many centuries famous.
148 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

There is little left in the Ternate of the present

to recall the wealth and splendour of the past.
The Sultan is a pensioner of the Dutch, bereft of
power and shorn of riches, living in a stone
"palace" on a hillside just beyond the foreign
settlement, surrounded by his followers, a ghost
of the bygone ages. The town itself is rather
depressing. Countless earthquakes have from
time to time shaken down those of its ancient
structures that have not fallen from sheer old
age, and hardly a street is free from ominous signs
of decay and disaster. In striking contrast to
Menado, despite the greater solidity of its original
construction, Ternate gives the impression of
poverty, lack of enterprise, and coming dissolu
tion. Its trade is almost purely local and in the
hands of the Chinese, who make up about a fifth
of the population, and of the Arabs, descendants of
immigrants from Macassar. Of the four hundred
so-called Europeans in Ternate, a bare handful
are of full white blood, the rest being half- and
quarter-castes, with maternal ancestors of the
native Malay race. The whole population is
hardly over 3500, even including the inhabitants
of the outlying kampongs, and these figures are
likely to dwindle still further if, as is quite prob
able, the administrative offices of the government
are removed to a more thriving centre.
There is no regular hotel at Ternate, and the
handbook of the steamship company advises one
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 149

to sleep aboard ship if possible, but our connecting

steamer was not due for over a week, and we were
forced to avail ourselves of the accommodations
afforded by the government rest-house,—in this
case the residence of a Dutch lady rejoicing in the
euphonious family name of van Renesse van
Duivenboden. The chief disadvantage of these
quarters lay in the extreme exclusiveness of the
landlady of the high-sounding name, who, after a
polite but brief greeting, turned us over to the
tender mercies of a native mandoer or head
servant and disappeared from sight for the re
mainder of our stay. Never was work better
repaid than that which I had put into the study
of Malay on the voyage from Soerabaya, and I
dread to think what might have happened had
I not acquired some slight knowledge of that
fortunately easy tongue.
Our rooms were large and comfortable, opening
on a front verandah and facing the great volcano,
lazily smoking its pipe of peace. Pots of jasmines,
roses, and other flowers, porcelain basins containing
wonderful orchids and graceful ferns, and vases
filled with strange plants with red and white
spotted, heart-shaped leaves adorned the verandah
and formed a special attraction for humming
birds and brilliantly coloured butterflies. In the
evening the lamps attracted a less agreeable
assemblage of mosquitoes, ants, pincer beetles.
huge moths, and even bats and hawks.
150 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Meals were served on a sort of back verandah,

covered and slightly raised above the level of the
garden or orchard which it overlooked. We could
very nearly pick the fruit from the trees without
leaving our seats. Close by were cages of parro-
quets and of crested New Guinea pigeons, dove
cotes, chicken and duck yards, and a thatched
roof serving as a stable for the pony. Pigs and
small deer wandered about this enclosure, and
on either side were the servants' quarters, where
there were generally one or two native babies
being bathed or fed. All this display of live
stock was at first entertaining, but one day I
arrived late at the table and found a rooster
wading in my soup and enthusiasm ebbed rapidly.
Nights at Ternate were at first very restless,
for the variety of peculiar and unnatural noises
seemed endless. In addition to the more familiar
sounds of bells striking the hours, and of cats and
dogs yowling and yelping, we had to become
accustomed to the discordant music of tom-toms,
drums, and cornets, the shrieking of parroquets,
the hooting of owls, the rumbling of sado wheels
over the hollow-resounding roads, the voice of
the mandoer crooning his baby to sleep with the
sweet, rather melodious native lullabies, and
lastly,—least pleasant of all,—the rustling and
squeaking of the rats nearer at hand.
One walk through the main thoroughfare of the
town in the direction of the Sultan's palace and
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 151

the Macassar Camp introduced us to nearly all

that is worth seeing within a radius of a couple
of miles from the rest-house. Leaving behind
us the thatch-roofed church, the post-office, and
the Chinese tokos, and continuing through the
Chinese Camp, we soon came out on the shore,
-with the waters of the bay to the right, and to the
left the walls of Fort Oranje, the principal fortifica
tion even to-day of the whole group of Northern
Moluccas. Fort Oranje is the direct descendant
of Fort Malayu or Malaja and was built by the
Dutch in 1607, on the site of an earlier fortifica
tion erected by the Portuguese. It was rebuilt
about a century later in the form in which it now
is to be seen. In 1796, it successfully withstood
an attack by the English, and its fall in 1799 was
wholly due to treachery. As late as 1824 it
had the reputation of being the strongest fort in
the entire Insulinde east of Batavia, but the last
century, with its introduction of armoured ships
and high power ordnance, has wrought sweeping
changes in the nature of fortifications, and Fort
Oranje, like many another old-time stronghold,
has outlived its usefulness and become merely a
picturesque memorial to the historic- past, a
possible defence in case of native uprising or
piratical attack, but nothing more. Its moat,
long since dried up, its time-stained walls, and
mediaeval gateway could tell many a story of
adventure and desperate struggle could they but
152 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

speak; and the very sight of them calls up a world

of memories of those days of long ago when the
wealth of the Moluccas was so assiduously sought
and so greedily guarded.
Beyond Fort Oranje lies the Arab or Macassar
Camp, remarkable chiefly for a couple of curious
misigits or mosques. These misigits stand in
compounds walled from the street, and are quite
different from one's usual idea of mosques. They
are square structures of stucco and brick, sur
rounded by galleries, and covered by several
successively smaller, superimposed roofs of thatch,
the uppermost pyramidal in form. The gateways
in the outer walls are sheltered by similar roofs.
Within are white-robed and turbaned muezzins
or priests, and numbers of small native boys, for
here, as elsewhere in the Mahometan Orient, the
mosques are the schoolhouses and the priests the
teachers.
A few yards farther, the scene changes abruptly,
the main street ends, and its place is taken by
irregular trails, which wend their way up hill and
down dale through a rolling country of half-
cleared jungle and fruit orchards, and pass through
an occasional pretty but unclean village. The
houses of these villages are little more than huts,
with walls made of "gaba-gaba," the mid-rib
or leaf-stock of the sago palm. Naked children,
women bare to the waist, chickens, pigs, and
mongrel curs abound in these kampongs, and
V
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 153

there are many black goats with long, stiff legs.

The male population is evidently at work in the
fields, for there is hardly a man to be seen. At a
considerable distance farther and quite near the
water's edge are the remains of a Portuguese fort
or blockhouse, said to have been built in 1550.
The ancient walls are still standing, and a coat-
of-arms cut in the masonry near the entrance is in
a good state of preservation.
On the way back we passed the palace of the
Sultan of Ternate, a large white building, with
walled gardens and a flag-staff flaunting to the
breeze the ensign of Holland. In the open plein
below, the younger generation of Malays and
Arabs were engaged in a game of "soccer" foot
ball, to the great delight of a few elderly retainers
of native royalty arrayed in blue swallow-tailed
coats, with gold military buttons, and their
shaven or bald pates wound in gay head-kains.
Near by stands the guard-house of the Sultan,
and loitering about it were barefooted native
soldiers in blue uniforms and top-heavy shakos
reminding us of the headgear of the West Point
cadets or the Seventh Regiment of New York.
The rifles or muskets stacked up against the outer
wall were thoroughly antiquated, with tremendous
bayonets and of impossible weight. On the beach
a few yards below was drawn up a quaint prouw,
the state row-boat of the Sultan, a craft over
sixty feet long, with places for six oarsmen, and
154 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

a couple of canopied seats amidships, its ends

decorated with large coloured plumes on poles.
The market of Ternate affords the best oppor
tunity to see the natives in their typical costumes.
Gaudy colours are the rule, and the women wear
" kabayas " or waists, of green, blue, or other bright
colour, in combination with sarongs of red and
black checks; in other respects the costumes vary
slightly, if at all, from those of Southern Celebes
or Java. In the stalls there is the usual mis
cellaneous assortment of goods, from foodstuffs
and other produce to fabrics and household fur
nishings and utensils. Beads and shell-work seem
particularly popular. By far the most interesting
day at the market is that on which the special
bird market is held. On such an occasion there
appear from every quarter men, women, and
children absolutely laden down with parrots,
parroquets, macaws, cockatoos, and smaller birds.
Some part of this live merchandise is in cages,
some on perches, some simply roosting on the
owner's arm or shoulder. I noticed one energetic
woman somewhat handicapped by a baby astride
her right hip and a large market basket on her
head, yet still able to carry a rooster under her
left arm and a perch-load of parrots in either hand.
A peculiar burden-carrier, which I saw only in the
market, is the Ternate wheelbarrow. Its handles
are eight or ten feet long, the lower ends being
fastened to the axle of an absurdly small wheel.
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 155

To the south of the market extends the Bund

or shore road, shaded by magnificent trees, and
affording a fine view of the harbour and the cone
of Mt. Tidore. On this road are situated the
unimposing residency building, the dilapidated
palace of a former sultan, the club, and a few
offices and private dwellings. Beyond the landing
jetty or pier is a sandy beach where one sometimes
runs upon wonderful shells below the high-water
line, and where, opposite a native kampong, a
fleet of outriggers or catamarans lies drawn up.
Our easiest and pleasantest excursion from
Ternate was one by sado and on foot to the Laguna
Castello or Castle Lake. We drove out of town
to the south-west on a back road. There are
several fine estates on this road, but the many
ruins are depressing, and the little gaba-gaba
earthquake refuges in the front yards of the com
pounds still occupied testify to the ever-present
danger, which has had so much to do with the
decadence of the town. Alighting about half an
hour out of the settlement we walked on for
another half hour along a hilly, muddy trail,
through thick woods, and uncultivated fields
covered with long, coarse grass. In the woods
the great buttressed trees so common in the islands
are numerous, vines, creepers, lichens, and orchids
abound, but wild flowers are rare and the absence
of colour is general. Perhaps half-way on our walk
we came upon the remains of the old outpost fort,
156 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Gamoelame, but only an ancient overgrown wall

marks the site, and it is easily passed by unnoticed.
We finally reached a high point which overlooked
at some distance a dark, miasmic pond, half sur
rounded by hills and jungle, and separated from the
water of the bay by an artificial barrier. This
tarn is the Laguna Castello and close by are the
ruins of the Portuguese fortification from which
it takes its name. The near-by village is given
up to a community of lepers. The lake has a
certain beauty, due principally to the wonderful
sombre shades of green assumed by the foliage
in the deeper, shadowed portions of this gloomy
mountain gap, the inky blackness of the water,
and the dark, wooded side of Mt. Ternate in the
background. There is nothing bright or enliven
ing here; all is heavy and oppressive, and the
whole scene inspires awe rather than admiration.
Very few visitors make the ascent of the vol
cano. It is an arduous climb of some ten hours,
the trail is heavy, and the last and most difficult
part of the task must be accomplished with no
trees to shade one from the scorching sun and no
means of escape from the ill-smelling vapour of
the crater. In the rainy season the mud makes
matters incredibly worse. The view from the
summit is none the less magnificent. The last
serious eruption of Mt. Ternate took place in the
autumn of 1907, and, according to a Dutch
friend who was in Ternate at the time, the noise
 TERNATE, A SPICE ISLAND 157

and flames were very terrifying, even though the

danger was remote, the lava flow having always
avoided the town by a wide margin. A little
over a century ago, at Takome, a point on the
north-west coast, an earthquake, concomitant
with an eruption of the volcano, quite changed
the lay of the land, swallowing up a large village
and replacing it with a crater lake.
We were at Ternate on Christmas Day, but
nothing but invitations to subscribe to the local
charities reminded us in any way of the mid
winter holiday of home. A couple of days later
we heard one morning the sound of a steamer's
whistle and on hurrying to the Bund we found
that our ship for the south had arrived and was
expected to leave in a few hours. After con
siderable trouble in finding a means of getting our
baggage to the jetty, we had the usual wrangle
with the native boatmen, which was ended by the
appearance of the courteous captain of the "van
Riemsdijk, " who put the ship's launch at our dis
posal and towed us to his steamer. We felt little
regret at leaving Ternate, for our stay had not
been over-comfortable and the constant rains had
thoroughly dampened our enthusiasm.
 CHAPTER IX

CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS

AS we steamed out of Ternate roadstead on the

little ship which was to be our home for the
next two weeks, the water was alive with flying-
fish and the sky was bright with the lurid lights
of a gaudy sunset, the sombre old volcano was
puffing out volumes of dense smoke with a much
intensified vigour, and everyone on shore was
expecting an eruption. As we found out later,
earthquake shocks were experienced on the land
at the very time that we were passing out. In
regions of such unrest on terra firma one has a
comfortable sense of security aboard ship, despite
the frequency of the reefs and the scarcity of
light-houses.
Below Tidore, whose cone was quickly left
behind as we pointed southward, extends the
line of sentinels which attracted our attention
as we arrived at Ternate, the volcanic islands of
Mareh, Motir, and Makkian. - Motir is said to
have been active in 1778, but shows no signs of
life to-day. Makkian, after a period of pass
es
 CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 159
ivity extending over more than two hun
dred years, literally burst into fame in 1862 in
an eruption which came without warning and
was of great severity, resulting in the loss of over
four thousand lives and practically all the pro
perty on the island. The enormous loss of life
was due largely to the panic which seized the
inhabitants. In their frantic attempts to escape
the fatal lava stream, hundreds, if not thousands,
rushed headlong into the sea and were drowned.
This group of "M" islands and the Kaioa group
immediately to its south we passed during the
night, and when we came on deck the next morning
we had entered the roadstead of Batjan by the
so-called "ocean" channel and were anchoring off
Laboeka (Labouka), the chief town of this, the
most southerly of the original Moluccas.
Laboeka claims a population of over 7000,
but conveys the idea of an overgrown fishing
village and nothing more, despite its sultan's pal
ace and its fine old fort. Towering up behind
it is a 7000-foot volcano, Lebua, and surrounding
it on the land side are cacao and coffee plantations
and sago swamps. The bay is wide and deep,
but the presence of dangerous reefs is indicated
by the gaunt wreck of an iron ship of some 1500
tons burden, hard and fast near the shore. As
a matter of fact, her beaching on this particular
reef was intentional and done with the purpose
of enabling the salving of the cargo, the ship

r
160 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

having already been reduced to a state of unsea

worthiness by striking on another reef farther out
to sea.
A walk of about ten minutes straight inland
over an easy path leads to a finely preserved and
interesting old fort, now in use as a native
dwelling. Doubtless some parts of the Portuguese
fort captured by the Dutch in 1600 were incor
porated in Fort Barneveld, which, if we may
judge from the date on the wall near the entrance,
was built in 161 3. Unfortunately a fire burned
out the inside of the fort in 1883, but the exterior
is still in good condition and affords a splendid idea
of the fortifications of its time. It has a moat,
salient angles, parapets, and all the features of a
larger work. Over the entrance is carved a large
coat-of-arms,—that of Zealand,—a lion rampant,
holding a sword and money-bag, with a small ship
in the lower corner. A few steps from the fort is a
small enclosure containing tomb-slabs of the first
Dutch commissioner to Batjan, who died here in
the middle of the last century, and of one Samuel
Scurff, boatswain of the English yacht "Mar-
chesa, " who died at sea and was buried here in
1883.
Flowing into the bay near the northern end of
the village we found a shallow, muddy stream,
said to be frequented a few miles above by croco
diles. Over it a plank bridge, ingeniously con
structed of the split trunks of the areca palm,
3
O?
x
o
a
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. '- : -; . . - •
 CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 161

leads to sago swamps and the plantations beyond.

Sago cakes are a chief article of diet in these
islands and are made by the natives from a starch
produced by crushing the pith of the tree, mixing
it with water, and straining. Nature has also
blessed the inhabitants with a bountiful supply
of fruits, and the waters of the bay are alive with
fish. In the forests, towards the interior, troops
of wild cattle, descended from tame ones intro
duced by the early European arrivals, roam about
in considerable numbers, and wild boar and deer
are also common. Deer-hunts are great events
in the lives of the natives, contests of individual
speed and endurance, in which the winners are re
warded by great popularity and prestige. These
hunts are conducted on foot and spears are used
as weapons. Black baboons are also a feature
of the animal life of Batjan, and are tamed and
kept as household pets by many of the natives.
One can hardly pass through a street of Laboeka
without seeing one or two, generally decked out
in far more clothing than any of the children.
Wallace, the great naturalist, states that Batjan
is especially interesting to lovers of natural history
as the home of the only birds of paradise found
outside New Guinea and the islands closely ad
jacent thereto.
Our steamer took aboard at Laboeka a varied
assortment of products, including deer-horns (used
by the Chinese in the preparation of medicine),
162 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

copra, dammar gum, live turtles, rattan, coffee,

cocoa, hardwoods, and spices. Pearl-fishing is one
of the industries of the island, and we were told
that one pearl worth over four thousand dol
lars gold had been found within a few miles
of the town a week or two before our arrival. As
elsewhere, the Chinese buy up large quantities
of pearl oysters on speculation and occasionally
make a large haul. Dammar gum, a resin, is
found in huge masses, weighing sometimes as much
as twenty pounds, attached to the roots or trunk
of a certain tree. The natives use it in torches,
pounding it into long sticks and wrapping with
leaves.
After leaving the island of Batjan we spent
nearly a week in cruising about the Soela and Obi
groups and the island of Boeroe (Bourou) before
reaching the next stopping-place of importance,
the town of Ambon on the island of Ambon.
The natural features and vegetation of these
islands vary but little and the chief towns are
mere fishing and trading villages. The only
buildings of interest are the old forts, and after
visiting these we generally wandered along the
beaches searching for the delicately marked and
exquisitely coloured shells, or followed trails into
the forests in search of rare orchids and curious
trees.
We made stops at several points in the Soela
(Xulla or Sula) group, which includes three islands
CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 163

of considerable size and a number of smaller ones,

and in the Obi (Ombi) group, similarly made up.
The interior of practically all of these islands
remains still unexplored and the few settlements
on the shores are inhabited by native colonists
from the larger islands to the north. White
residents are limited to a mere handful of officials
and traders. The surrounding waters are rich in
fish and in turtles, and the densely wooded hills
and swampy lowlands abound in hardwood and
gum-trees, rattan, sago, and fruit-trees. Flying
foxes, phalangers, chameleons, and other lizards,
birds, butterflies, and snakes are plentiful, and in
Boeroe, deer, wart-hogs, and babirusas as well.
Occasionally we saw a bit of scenery so lovely
that it still stands out in the memory, even in the
midst of the almost bewildering impressions of
incomparable tropical beauties with which we
were repeatedly in danger of being surfeited. The
charming little bay of Bara is one such bit of
perfect nature. From the deck we looked across
its blue waters to a country of wild ravines and
rough crags, overgrown with forests and under
growth, here and there a huge perpendicular slab
of bare or moss-covered rock showing through the
green verdure. In the background a ridge of lofty
mountains completed the wonderful setting for a
pretty waterfall which, as we looked, was arched
by a rainbow. To our astonishment not only
rainbow but waterfall melted away before our
164 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

eyes, and we realized that we must await the down

fall of another heavy shower to enjoy this fairy
land scene again. In these isles of an earthly
paradise, where in the rainy season streams and
waterfalls are born and die thus suddenly, one may
see many such marvels to delight and surprise.
At Kajeli, chief town of Boeroe, the " van Riems-
dijk" took on a large consignment of cajuput oil,
by far the most important export of the island, and
valuable, it is said, as a cure or relief for rheuma
tism. The oil is also used for other purposes, for
instance as a disinfectant in epidemics of cholera.
It is put up for the market in gaba-gaba boxes, each
containing forty-eight bottles. Kajeli is an un
healthy looking settlement of seventy or eighty
houses, surrounded by swamps and fields of long,
rank grass, and noticeable principally for its
paucity of trees and its background of sorry,
brown-topped hills—the least tropical and the least
attractive spot that we had yet seen in the islands.
Its flies and mosquitoes were persistent in their
annoyance, its air was lifeless and depressing.
The voyage from Kajeli to Ambon, one of only
a few hours, brought us quickly back to regions
of delight. The long, narrow bay of Ambon lies
between even rows of grass-grown hills stretching
for miles on its north and south. The town is
on the south shore, some distance from the en
trance to the bay. Beyond it the water is shallow,
and there are sea gardens excelling in beauty and
 Photo by the Author
A FISHING VILLAGE, N. CELEBES
L
CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 165

interest those of Bermuda or Southern California.

As we glided over the clear blue water to the pier
we passed through school after school of brilliantly
coloured fish and what seemed to be quantities
of bits of sparkling blue tinsel.
Ambon is famous for its fish and we were told
that there are over seven hundred varieties re
presented in the waters of the bay. Scattered
over the surface are the netted enclosures of the
fishermen, and above these on high piles are the
covered shelters in which the fish-herds sit and
frighten off marauding birds. In the early morn
ing and at dusk one sees, too, dozens of large
fishing canoes, each paddled by eight or ten men,
who propel their craft to the accompaniment of
the beating of a drum or tom-tom. In the darker
hours of evening these boats carry lights and at
such times the bay, illumined by the twinkling
of a myriad of sparkling dots, reminds one of night
views of the Riviera coast from the deck of a
passing steamer. Besides the fishing boats there
are a few quaint and primitive trade luggers,
manned by naked Malays and Papuans. These
boats are remarkable for their twin or double
rudders, which extend back of the oars on either
side and may be hoisted aboard, singly or to
gether, when not needed. These luggers, as they
pass in and out through the early mists from which
the bay and island take their name, * signal their
1 Ambon is a corruption of the Malay word "ambun" (mist).
166 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

approach by repeated blasts, given by an outlook

man in the bow, on an enormous triton shell or
"Neptune's trumpet."
The town of Ambon is the capital of the resi
dency of Amboina1 and the most important port
of the Insulinde east of Macassar. It serves as a
clearing-house for the trade of the islands to the
east and bears every sign of prosperity and pro
gress, despite its small population of between eight
and nine thousand. Ambon, like Ternate, has
been the victim of many disastrous eruptions and
earthquakes, but the Amboina volcano has been
quiescent for over a century and it is nearly as
long since the last fatal trembling of the earth.
In Ambon there is a vitality or power of recupera
tion which has concealed its ruins and hidden the
signs of the lurking danger. As at Menado, a
large part of the population is Christian and at
least a tenth is European. Perhaps this leaven of
occidental optimism may be in part responsible
for the absence or restriction of that oriental
fatalism and pessimism which are so generally con
tent to accept misfortune as sent by God and to
make no struggle to escape or to improve condi
tions. However that may be, Ambon has bravely
risen above her disasters, and to-day enjoys a

1 The residency of Amboina includes the island called Am

boina by the Portuguese (and known to the Dutch as Ambon),
Boeroe (Bourou), Ceram, the Bandas, the Arus, and the many
smaller islands of the Banda Sea east of Timor.
CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 167

greater reputation for health and happiness than

the other island ports.
The island of Ambon is of rather eccentric shape,
consisting of two long, narrow strips of hilly land
bound together near their middle points by an
isthmus hardly a mile wide. This neck is at
times completely covered by the sea and quite
large prouws are hauled across it on rollers by
the fishermen.
The Portuguese came to Ambon in the first
years of the sixteenth century and were followed
nearly a hundred years later by the Dutch. In
1623 the Dutch fort was the scene of the famous
" Amboina massacre, " which aroused the bitterest
sort of bad feeling between the Dutch and English.
Through the confession of a Japanese in the Dutch
service a plot was discovered which planned the
seizure of the fort by certain Englishmen and
Japanese. The "water cure" was made use of in
the examination of the English witnesses, as were,
also, lighted candles held under the armpits.
Some ten Englishmen were finally found guilty
and decapitated. This happened only three
years after the Dutch and English had signed a
treaty of defence, under which England was to
have one-third of the trade in the Moluccas,
Ambon, and the Bandas, on consideration of fur
nishing a certain number of defence ships against
the Latin kingdoms, the common enemy. Eng
land had already proved derelict in the perform
1 68 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

ance of her part of the agreement and claimed with

some show of justice that her allies were equally
remiss. Such conditions and episodes were only
too usual in the period of Dutch-English rivalry
in the far eastern trade and they had but little
influence on the final outcome, except as they
served to increase the mutual distrust and dis
like of the two peoples.
Landing at the long jetty or pier of Ambon we
found the usual features of the "Outer Posses
sion" ports—a street of shops and offices running
parallel to the shore a few yards back, Chinese
and Arab Camps, a fort, a plein, a quarter of
European residences, and here and there a little
group of native houses with its grove of palms and
bananas betokening the presence of a kampong.
The fort, " Nieuw Victoria, " bears over its rear en
trance the date 1775, and, in comparison with the
fortifications that we had seen since leaving Java, it
looked modern indeed, despite the ruined remains,
on the side towards the bay, of earlier works, and
the sites of former batteries which still bear on
their walls the old names, "Utrecht," "Peter
Alfredus, " etc. Ambon is the seat of the mil
itary headquarters of the Moluccas, this division
including practically all the islands east of Celebes.
One notices at once the great number of
soldiers in the streets. Some of the best fighters
in the colonial army come from this place. The
foreign houses that we saw on a walk to the
CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 169

residency were of the white, stuccoed, Dutch

type to which we had become so accustomed,
but set in smaller grounds and remarkable for
enormous verandahs, in some instances used as
carriage sheds. There were evidently horses
concealed somewhere, but during our stay we saw
not a single one.
Conspicuous on the streets by reason of their
excessively quiet costumes of black are the
"orang serani, " descendants of Portuguese and
natives. These half-castes are, curiously enough,
darker as a rule than the natives of full blood.
They scorn the native costume and go about in
black clothes of quasi-European cut. On festival
occasions they blossom out in swallow-tails or
frock-coats and high hats of ancient vintage.
These people are Christians and Protestants, and
they seem to have the usual vices of native
Christians—drunkenness in particular. They are
also lazy, bumptious, and inquisitive, like most
natives who have been taught that all men are
equal and brothers. The Mahometans impressed
us as a far more worthy and less hypocritical lot,
and more satisfactory to deal with.
Perhaps a mile directly in from the shore over
the red laterite roads is the delightful park of the
residency, with swimming pool, large conserva
tory, flower-gardens, and a comfortable, dignified
mansion—one of the most thoroughly satisfactory
country places that I have seen in the entire Far
170 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

East. Adjoining the residency enclosure is an

extensive botanical garden, containing among
many interesting features a remarkable collection
of fig-trees with aerial roots and fine specimens of
the " tjiemara" or Chinese ghost-tree. Fording the
stream behind these gardens and mounting the
steep hill on the far side, a trail or foot-path leads
through long grass and over open, hilly country to
a native kampong where guides and torches may
be obtained for a visit to the famous limestone
grottoes of Batoe Lobang, the great sight of the
island. The walk is a hot one of nearly two hours,
but it affords a chance to get a good idea of the
country, and to enjoy a novel experience. In the
house of the headman of the village we were
provided with torches of yellow bamboo, filled
with oil-soaked rags, and thence, accompanied
by a rabble of young men and boys armed with
clubs, proceeded to the cave entrance.
The grottoes of Batoe Lobang are of moderate
interest in comparison with the vast caverns of
the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky or the matchless
formations of the Jenolan Caves of Australia, but
a visit to them is accompanied by a certain amount
of excitement none the less, and one feels repaid
in the end for the long tramp and the slippery
climb. It took us a good half hour of sliding
through slime and clambering over wet rocks to
reach the main chamber. Unfortunately the
beauty of the intermediate passages has been long
 CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 171

since ruined by destructive visitors and the

soot from the torches; stalactites and stalagmites
alike have been broken off, names are scratched
all over the walls, and the whole general impression
is one of dingy dilapidation. Even in the principal
chamber there seemed to be little to see, but
suddenly we were tucked off in a corner by the
guide, and our band of native followers began
shouting and throwing their clubs in the air. In
a moment the air was thick with whirring wings
and an unpleasant odour became very apparent.
The bat population had been dislodged and was
being ruthlessly slaughtered to provide a feast for
the killers. We preferred to leave this scene as
quickly as possible, but were obliged to wait a few
minutes in order to make our exit without being hit
by the poor dazed creatures flying aimlessly about
in their vain efforts to escape. Returning to the
house of the headman we were invited to remain
and partake of the coming meal, but the pieces
de resistance and their crude preparation seemed
extremely unappetizing, and our regrets were
speedily presented and we hastened away. Bats
are much appreciated by the natives as food, but
it is doubtful if they will ever come into favour in a
European cuisine.
During a short stay at Ambon one sees little
or nothing of the wonderful butterflies and shells,
of the gorgeously coloured fish, of the great
constrictor snakes, of the lories or the kingfishers.
172 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

One of these last Wallace describes as having a

coral-red bill, a breast of white, back and wings of
purple, head and shoulders of azure blue, and tail
consisting of two long feathers, white at the ends
and blue elsewhere. The shells and butterflies of
Ambon were first brought before the notice of the
outer world through their classification by the
famous naturalist Rumphius, whose tomb may
be visited just outside the town.
At certain seasons of the year when the prevail
ing winds favour the coming of the trading
schooners from New Guinea, this is the best place
for the purchase of the plumage of the beautiful
but unfortunate birds of paradise that are being
slowly but surely exterminated to satisfy the
cruel demands of the women of the Occident.
Fine specimens may be had for ten dollars gold
and thereabouts. We were surprised to see on
sale none of the little ships of cloves which in
earlier days all sailors used to bring back as
souvenirs from this island of cloves, and in fact
we saw little of cloves themselves. To-day,
copra, the fleshy fibre of the cocoanut, is rapidly
supplanting the clove as the export of greatest
value, or better, of greatest profit.
From Ambon in a night's steaming over safer,
deeper waters than those in which we had been
cruising for some time, we reached the group of
islands known as the Bandas. In the early morn
ing the great island of Ceram could be seen far
CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 173

off to port, and about three hours before we arrived

the pyramidal cone of Gunong Api (fire moun
tain), the Banda volcano, could be distinguished
dead ahead, a faint spiral of vapour rising from a
rent near its summit. A couple of hours later the
steamer passed at a distance the small plantation
islands of Run and Ay. These islands were the
scene of many a wrangle between the English and
Dutch and in 161 7 they were occupied and fortified
by the English. Just before we turned into the
winding channel which leads to the town on Banda
Neira a curious island was passed which bears a
remarkable resemblance to the wreck of a large
ship. This is Batoe Kapal or Ship Rock, a bare
mass three hundred feet long.
The Zonnegat or Sun Gate, the narrow passage
through which the steamer passes between the vol
cano island to the right and its larger neighbour
to the left, gives even the most seasoned traveller
a thrill of delight as he navigates its deep blue
waters. There is something almost unreal about
the beauty of this scene. The blue of the water
is so blue, the green of the densely verdured hills
that rise abruptly from the water to the left is so
brilliant, the proportions of the volcano are so
regular, that the very perfection of nature's work
manship produces a certain curious impression
of artificiality. It is actually a relief to gaze for
a minute at the bare upper slopes of the volcano,—
to note its streaks of brown and red, its water
174 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

lines of black, and its blotches of yellow-white

sulphur deposits,—to find something irregular in
the great chasm near the top, the vent for the
internal fires. The lower slopes of the mountain
are clothed in rich green like the shores to the left,
but piled up at the foot along the water's edge a
confused mass of overgrown, volcanic rock bears
witness to past activities of the powers within.
A little farther on, the passage broadens out and
a fringe of white beach replaces the wilder coast
line. Fishing boats may be seen drawn up on the
shore and in the glossy green of the hillside planta
tions the walls of tiny, white houses may be picked
out. To the left, the scene is even more than ever
like a stage setting. There is a whitewashed
town at the water's edge and behind it on a steep
hill is a series of mediaeval fortifications, very
picturesque but in these modern days very toy
like in appearance. The currents through the
Zonnegat are very strong and it is a matter of
considerable time and interminable warpings be
fore the steamer is made fast to the wharf. A
nearer view of the town destroys many of the first
illusions. The forts and hill are hidden, and in
stead of the picturesque features there are only
an unattractive lot of sheet-iron roofs, dilapidated
shanties, and white stucco houses to look upon.
This little group of islands, the Bandas, has a
total area of less than twenty square miles. There
are three principal islands: Banda Lontar, a
 CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 175

crescent-shaped island, six miles long by a half

broad, named after the palmyra palm; Banda
Neira, two miles by one in dimensions and the
site of the town ; and Gunong Api, the island of the
volcano. There can be little doubt that in past
ages Banda Lontar formed part of the crater wall
of an immense volcano which, in a final, great
eruption, literally blew itself up and subsided
beneath the surrounding waters. Banda Neira
is thought to be the wall of a later cone, which in
turn disappeared in a great upheaval and was re
placed by the present cone of Gunong Api. The
whole conformation seems to approximate that
of the Tengger volcanoes, which we shall see later
in Java. Like other purely volcanic districts, the
Bandas are prone to earthquake disturbances,
but of late years there has been no serious disas
ter. The last eruption took place in 1820 and the
last destructive earthquake was in 1852. Slight
quakes are still frequent. ^
When the Portuguese took forcible possession
of these islands in the early sixteenth century they
found them peopled by a race closely resembling,
if indeed not part of, the Papuans of New Guinea.
These aborigines, driven from their homes by the
fierceness and cruelty of the Europeans, fled to the
Ke islands, farther to the east, and the present
native population is made up of a mongrel mixture
of every possible blend of Malay, Indo-Polynesian,
Arab, and European, descendants of colonists
176 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

and of plantation labourers imported from other

parts of the Insulinde.
The Dutch had their first dealings with the
Bandas as early as 1599, and the islands were
already famous at that time as the home of the
nutmeg. Later, when the wranglings between the
English and the Dutch were over, and the Dutch
decided upon their policy of limiting and con
centrating the cultivation of spices, the Bandas
were chosen for the growth of the nutmeg, as
Ambon was chosen for the growth of the clove, in
an effort to secure the government in its lucrative
monopoly, an effort that proved eminently suc
cessful and excessively remunerative.
For over a hundred years the profits to the
Dutch of the spice trade of these Southern Moluc
cas, as they are called to-day, were in the neigh
bourhood of 300 per cent. The system of forced
cultivation was unquestionably carried to an un
justifiable extreme in these islands in the greed
for money, and the weak were despoiled for the
benefit of the strong, but unfortunately it cannot
be said that other nations with the power in then-
hands have abstained from similar attempts at
exploitation. In any case the nutmeg crops
brought prosperity to the cultivators, govern
mental or private, and when renewed planting
of nutmegs outside the islands pulled down the
market value of nutmeg and mace the prosperity
of the planters dwindled rapidly. During the
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last few years nutmegs have dropped from about

thirty-six dollars gold a picul to three, and .the
resultant hard times have driven nearly all the
European planters from the Bandas.
Not many years ago Banda Neira is said to have
had a population in all of 7000 ; to-day it has little
over 3000, of which quite one-tenth are Arabs and
a much smaller percentage Dutch. Fine foreign
residences may be leased to-day for as little as ten
gold dollars a month, some even for the upkeep
and repairs. Real estate values have so depreci
ated that not long ago a house built a few years
since at a cost of 8000 dollars gold (a very high
cost in this part of the world) sold for 400 dollars
after vainly awaiting a purchaser for a number of
months. Despite all these and other signs of bad
times an annual export of 600,000 pounds of nut
meg and 140,000 pounds of mace is not unusual.
Landing and walking through the principal
street of the commercial quarter one is at once
struck by the fact that here for the first time an
Asiatic people other than the Chinese seems to be
in control of the local trade. Arab shops, Arab
offices, and Arab residences quite overshadow
all others. At the famous firm of Baodela
Brothers one can buy in large or small amounts
any of the products of the islands to the east or of
New Guinea. Gums, spices, hardwoods, pearls,
birds of paradise, and every variety of fabric and
foodstuff are on hand or procurable on order.
178 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Beyond the business district is a large, open

square or plein, on the far side of which rise the
moss-covered walls of the imposing old fort, Nassau.
A moat, now nearly dry, surrounds the walls, and
on the latter is plainly decipherable the date 1617.
This fortification must in the old days have been
an almost impregnable stronghold, for its walls are,
at least on the side towards the sea, 500 feet long,
20 feet high, and over 1 5 feet in thickness. To-day
its interior is occupied by peaceful dwellings,
gardens, and tennis courts, and the rear walls have
disappeared, while trees and undergrowth have
taken the place of cannon on its ramparts. As
cending a steep path on the hillside to the rear we
finally reached the fort that we saw from the
steamer, Fort Belgica, an ancient structure of
pentagonal form with high exterior walls that hide
all of interest within from our curious eyes. Like
Fort Nassau, Belgica is no longer in use for pur
poses of defence, but it does a great deal to add
to the picturesqueness of the scene. On a hill
top near by, seven hundred feet above the water,
there is a signal station, and a fine view of the town
and harbour below well repays one for the rather
hot climb.
Continuing our walk al6ng the shore, past the
rear of Fort Nassau, we came upon the centre of
the once fashionable residential section, a large
square crossed by fine avenues of kanari- and
tjiemara-trees, and containing a pedestalled bust
CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 179

commemorative of the visit of a German prince.

Beside this square are the club, the fine residence of
the Dutch "Controller," and a number of splendid
mansions with marble columns and floors, sur
rounded by lawns and gardens, noticeable for
their fine trees and even summer-houses ; beyond,
are the barracks and the native kampongs; to
wards the sea, is a narrow stretch of water, the
Oostergat or Gat van Lisan, across which rise the
gently sloping shores of Banda Lontar, covered
with thousands of nutmeg-trees and their pro
tecting shade-trees.
It is worth while, if one has the time, to take
one of the odd native "orembais" or ferry row-
boats and cross to Banda Lontar for a look at the
nutmeg plantations. The sheltering kanari-trees
are magnificent and the nutmeg-trees themselves
are very pleasing in appearance, with their smooth,
deep-green leaves and their yellow fruit. Opening
the outer yellow rind, we find within it a dark
brown or black kernel, the nutmeg of commerce,
covered with a thin network of scarlet mace.
In preparing the product for market the rind is
removed, then the mace, which dries to a dull
yellow, and lastly the thin shell of the nut. The
kernels are then smoked, and packed in lime to
guard against their destruction by insects.
The ascent of Gunong Api is another excursion
that will recommend itself to the energetic travel
ler. It is a climb of something over an hour, but
180 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

the reward at the summit is ample for the labour

expended. The view comprises the entire group
of islands and is quite unique of its kind as well as
extremely beautiful. The fissure from which is
emitted the vapour that we see from below is a
couple of hundred feet from the top, and there is
also a considerable stretch of level ground, hot,
and somewhat dangerous to visit without a guide.
Banda Neira, like Ternate, despite great natural
beauty, gives one a rather depressing impression.
There is little life on its streets, everything seems
stagnant, and the remnants of a former prosperity
are fast going to rack and ruin. We found a
further deterrent from complete enjoyment of the
marvellous scenery in the over-abundance of mos
quitoes and the deadness of the air, and were
quite ready to start on again after a stop of but a
single day.
Forty-eight, hours after leaving the Bandas the
"van Riemsdijk" anchored in the roadstead of the
chief town of the island of Boeton (Bouton), and
landing in the ship's boat we found on shore a
most unattractive native village and a few foreign
houses in its rear. The principal features of inter
est in the former were the market and a number of
spider-like houses built on long crooked piles; in
the latter, a cemetery with many recent graves, and
rare orchids growing on trees along the roadside
were the sole attractions. The women of Boeton
wear a peculiar headgear which has the appearance
 CRUISING AMONG THE MOLUCCAS 181

of a hat tufted with black hair, though possibly the

effect is produced by the owner's hair protruding
through holes. On the river we noticed several
Ceram prouws with strange tripod masts.
Boeton is about a hundred miles long and thirty-
five miles broad. Its Sultan resides in a fortified
kraton on a hill at some distance from the town or
village. The principal exports are timber and
cajuput oil. The population of the entire island
is estimated at about 10,000.
From Boeton the "van Riemsdijk" steamed to
Macassar by way of the Saleier Straits in less than
twenty-four hours, and then, after some delay in tak
ing on a large consignment of Borneo petroleum,
returned by Boelelang to Soerabaya, her final de
stination. We felt really sorry to part company
with the trig little ship, and with our friend Captain
Scheutema, who had done so much to make our voy
age agreeable, but there was a certain underlying re
lief in the feeling that we were back in Java, where,
even in the meagre news items of the local Dutch
papers, we might occasionally glean some informa
tion of happenings in the outer world, and where,
in the hotels and banks, we might meet fellow-
countrymen. Since leaving Soerabaya six weeks
before, we had not run across a single American
or Englishman and had not seen a newspaper or a
letter from home. It was a positive pleasure to un
pack for a few days at the Simpang Hotel and en
joy once more some of the comforts of a large city.
 CHAPTER X

TOSARI AND THE TENGGER VOLCANOES

IF the air of Batavia is hot and oppressive, that

of Soerabaya is even more so, and the mosqui
toes of Soerabaya are far more irritating than
their sisters of Batavia. The Batavian in search
of recuperation escapes to Buitenzorg or Soeka-
boemi; the Soerabayan, similarly bent, goes to
Tosari, in the Tengger Mountains, a short day's
journey to the south. Tosari, besides offering
the most invigorating air to be had in all Java and
the comforts of a good up-country hotel, is within
easy distance of some of the most extraordinary
scenery in the whole Insulinde,—the scenery of the
Tengger crater, the Sand Sea, and the volcanoes.
To travellers it is probably the most delightful
spot in the whole island for rest and enjoyment.
Having already seen the sights of Soerabaya,
we decided to spend in the more healthful air of
the mountains the few days that remained before
we must leave for Central Java. Accordingly, as
soon as laundry, shopping, and correspondence
permitted, we packed our hand-bags with thicker
182
 IN THE TENGGER MTS. 183
clothing, and, leaving our trunks to await our re
turn, took train for Pasoeroean, the last station
of the railway in the direction of Tosari.
This first stage of the trip to the Tenggers is a
ride of about an hour and a half through a low,
almost level stretch of fertile country, given up to
the cultivation of rice and sugar. The sugar
industry is one of the most important in Java, and
among the sugar-producing countries of the world
Java is surpassed by India alone. Over 200,000
acres are planted in cane, and the annual yield is
approximately 3,100,000,000 pounds, as compared
with 92,000,000 pounds of tobacco, over 35,500,-
000 of coffee, and 28,000,000 of tea.
Sugar-cane was grown in Java many years before
the advent of the Europeans, but from 1830 to
1880, government monopolization of the industry
and the system of forced cultivation barred the
participation of private enterprise. In recent
years, with private ownership, has come the intro
duction of modern machinery in the mills, and
greater amounts of the product are now obtained
from the same bulk of cane, permitting a suffi
cient lowering of the price to make competition
possible with the beet-sugar product of Europe.
The sugar-cane is usually planted in July, in
the form of shoots, the fields having been well
tilled, fertilized, and watered in advance. After
about a year or a year and a half the cane reaches
maturity and the harvesting takes place. At
1 84 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

this time labour is in great demand, and the fields

and mills are the scene of tremendous activity, for
delays impair the value of the crop, and the
cutting and crushing of the cane, the filtering,
purifying, and boiling of the sap, and the drying
and whitening of the sugar must all be accom
plished with the greatest speed possible. Each fac
tory stands in the middle of its acres of cane and
from it a network of narrow-gauge track radiates
in every direction, enabling the cane to be brought
in with the least possible delay. The low factory
buildings with their high chimneys, and the fields
of cane form, with the familiar rice fields, the
only noticeable features of the landscape in this
particular section of the island.
Pasoeroean (Pasuruan), where we left the
railway, is a town of but 28,000 inhabitants to-day,
but, before the days of railroad connections be
tween Soerabaya and south-eastern Java, it was a
town of greater population than its neighbour,
and fifty years ago it was one of the four principal
commercial cities of Java. Vestiges of former
prosperity and prestige still remain in the form of
fine avenues and handsome mansions, but many of
the latter are now occupied by Chinese, and the
town bears every appearance of having seen its
best days. At the station we were met by a run
ner from the hotel at Tosari, the mountain health
resort for which we were bound, and were quickly
transferred to single-pony sados for a drive through
 IN THE TENGGER MTS. 185

a region of sugar-cane and factories, over a level

and nearly straight road bordered by tamarinds
and "djatis." A few native kampongs were passed
along the way, and bullock carts rumbled by
almost hidden in their loads of cane, but for the
most part the road was empty and the sights were
few. At Pasrepan, at a branch of the Tosari
hotel, a quick change was made to two-pony
sados, and we started at a mad rush up a steep
mountain road to the little settlement of Poespo,
2000 feet above the sea, in the foot-hills. This
pony-posting, prior to the opening of the railways
in 1870, was the usual method of travel in Java
for those who could afford it, and to one unmind
ful of time and the luxury of travel, it is to-day
by far the most satisfactory way of seeing the
country.
After lunch at Poespo we started on the final
stage of our journey, a nine-mile ride on pony-
back. This section of the road was for a time
open to motor cars, but proved dangerous to both
visitors and natives, and, as the steep rise is
practically prohibitive to sados, saddle ponies and
sedan-chairs are to-day the approved means of
passenger conveyance. Baggage and hotel sup
plies are still taken up in the slow, lumbering bul
lock carts. When the rain comes down in sheets,
as it did on the occasion of our visit, and one is
forced to ride wrapped in raincoat and sheltered
by an umbrella, the experience is not altogether
186 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

delightful. For the greater part of the way the

steepness prevents a faster gait than a slow walk,
and the thick atmosphere hides all distant views.
Luckily the palms, tjiemaras, and tree-ferns along
the road were exceptionally beautiful, and for
part of the way we had the company of a number
of black gibbon monkeys, that followed us through
the trees with wonderful acrobatic agility, and
proved sufficiently amusing to more than com
pensate for the loss of scenery.
Shortly before reaching Tosari we had our
first experience in stair-climbing on- horseback,
for a last short-cut leads up a particularly sharp
ascent, over a corduroy road as steep as one's
doorsteps. On a wet day this bit is slippery
and slimy and we hardly expected to reach the
top without an upset, but the little mountain
ponies proved as strong and sure-footed as goats
and scrambled up the dangerous incline as readily
as they had negotiated the more level stretches. At
about four o'clock we finally arrived at the village
and hotel-sanitarium of Tosari, stiff and hungry,
and rejoiced at the prospect of hot water, hot
tea, and dry clothing.
Tosari is situated at an elevation of approxi
mately 6000 feet, on the very outskirts of the
Tengger range. It is absolutely exempt from fevers
and cholera and is beyond a doubt the most health
ful of the three most famous health resorts of Java. *
1 Garoet and Sindanglaya are the other two.
 From Photo by Kurkdjian, Soerabaya
THE ROAD TO THE BROMO CRATER
 IN THE TENGGER MTS. 187

It is particularly fortunate in its pure, invigorat

ing air and in its flora, the latter combining the
rich vegetation of the tropics with the plant life
of the temperate zones. Potatoes, onions, cab
bages, and other familiar home vegetables are
grown in the neighbouring fields, and the hillsides '
are gay with well-known wild-flowers—dandelions,
violets, forget-me-nots, rhododendrons, mignon
ette, and sorrel; even peaches and grapes are said
to grow here in a wild state. It is hard to realize
that this is tropical, far-away Java; it seems far
more like Switzerland, and the cool nights, the
rushing streams, and the frame hotel add to
the delusion. The temperature of Tosari is
equable the year round, varying from 62° Fahren
heit to 790.
The hotel or sanitarium accommodates nearly
a hundred, and was the first that we had seen in
which the true "pavilion" system was in use.
The pavilions are trim little wooden cottages of
two rooms, with verandahs, private toilets, and
other conveniences. There are actually glass
windows instead of shutters, and real blankets are
on the beds. The occupants of these doll-houses
take their meals in a main building, which con
tains several public rooms, including a library
and a billiard-room. Near by there is a bowling
alley, and a croquet ground and tennis courts
form additional attractions. From a balcony of
the main building one may enjoy in clear weather
188 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

one of the finest distant views in all Java, the

waters of Madoera Bay and the island of Madoera
far off beyond the waving trees and gleaming
sawahs of the foothills and level plains below.
Clinging to the slopes of the hills about Tosari
are the houses of the Tenggri mountaineers, some
few of them standing quite alone, but the great
majority huddled together in villages of long,
one-storied wooden structures, with thatched
roofs and no windows, and with but a single door,
which invariably faces the volcanic crater of Bro-
mo, the scene of the annual Tenggri celebration in
honour of their chief god, Dewa Soelan Iloe. These
sturdy mountaineers are practically the only
inhabitants of Java that have withstood success
fully the forcefully proselyting influences of
Mahometanism and retained their earlier religion,
a form of animistic Hinduism which encourages
alike the worship of the Hindu gods and the cult
of the spirits that dwell in every form of nature.
There are about 5000 Tenggris in all, and they are
seldom seen beyond the confines of their moun
tains. In visage they often remind one strongly
of the North American Indian. Their virtues and
vices are those of a country people far removed
from the influences of an urban civilization. They
are brave, cheerful, honest, and industrious, but,
on the other hand, unclean, rough and brusque
of manner, stupid, and independent to the point
of impudence. Their square plots of cultivated
 IN THE TENGGER MTS. 189

land stretch far up the steepest hillsides, covering

them with a patchwork of many shades of green.
The Tengger landscape has often been compared
with the Swiss, but, at least in the populated dis
tricts, there is a greater resemblance to similar parts
of the Pyrenees. In any case the scenery is suffi
ciently beautiful and sufficiently individual to be
admired for itself alone. The noticeable absence of
ricefields in the vicinity of Tosari is due, we found,
not to any difficulty in obtaining water for irri
gation nor to the fact that dry planting produces
poor results, but to an old-time tradition of the
Tenggris which has prohibited the cultivation of
this grain since the days when the Mahometans
first overran the lowlands of Eastern Java and
drove its people to these mountains. In the
place of rice-fields the natives have covered their
lands with vegetable gardens, and this accounts,
no doubt, to a large extent, for the resemblances
to European scenes which force themselves upon
us in this region.
If at Tosari one feels near home, an easy way to
overcome such feeling is to make the excursion to
the Bromo crater and the Moenggal Pass. In a
short two hours on pony-back we were trans
ported to scenes such as we had up to this time
associated with other planets or other ages. The
trail to the Moenggal leads through the village
just beyond the hotel, then over ridges and hills,
through dense forests and the clouds of higher
 190 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

levels. There is a chill in the damp air of the

woods, and despite the beauty of the trees and
ferns one is glad to emerge from the soggy gloom
of the forest trail and dismount in the sunshine
at the cabin on the Moenggal Pass.
From this point, about 7800 feet above sea-level,
is seen one of the most extraordinary panoramas
in the world, one absolutely novel in its every
characteristic, and awe-inspiring in its strange
grandeur to a degree unapproached by any other
landscape that I, at least, have ever seen. Hun
dreds of feet below is a valley carpeted with grey-
black sand; a grey-green hill, in form a perfect
truncated cone, rises abruptly from the middle of
this valley floor; behind, and a little to the left of
this hill, is a bare, grey, smoking crater, with steep,
serrated walls, and in rear of this, to the right,
ridge after ridge of sharply indented hills or crater
rims of greyish purple. Far off to the right, tower
ing above all else, and pouring a column of vapour
into the air from a height of over 12,000 feet,
rises, in stately grandeur, a magnificent, grey
pyramid of faultless lines, the highest and grandest
of all the giant volcanoes of Java.
The great sand sea below is the "Dessar,"1 the
remaining portion of the floor of a huge crater
of former ages, now so broken up as to be hardly
recognizable, but the north walls of which were once
formed by the Moenggal, where we stand, and
1 The native name.

t
 IN THE TENGGER MTS. 191

the south walls by the Ider-Ider, opposite, across

the sand sea. The overgrown cone with sides
deeply ribbed with water lines is the extinct
volcano Batok, and the active, half-hidden crater
behind Batok is Bromo, the object of Tenggri
veneration and at one time, it is said, of human
sacrifice. The great mountain in the far distance,
whose steady smoke seems truly the smoke of a
sacrificial fire rising on a stately altar in perpetual
reverence and worship of the great creator of this
impressive scene, is Smeroe, ruthless destroyer of
human life and habitations.
The grim grandeur and uncanny beauty of this
strange landscape are bewildering. There is
probably no more extraordinary panorama of
volcanic scenery anywhere, unless perhaps in
Iceland, where it seems hardly possible to believe
that the colouring can be as remarkable as here
in the light of the tropical sun. There is such a
fantastic conformation, such weird colouring, such
an absence of the familiar and accustomed, such
constant reminder on every side of the mysterious
workings of a tremendous hidden force, that it is
difficult to realize that one is still on earth. One
thinks instinctively of Dante's Inferno, of the
lunar mountains, of those far distant days when
the pterodactyl and the ichthyosaurus inhabited
our planet, or of those when our coal-fields were
still forests. To see this scene gradually unfold
itself from a veil of fog or mist is to see a vision,
192 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

a dream, an unreality. We had read that the

bones of wild horses had been found in the sand
sea, but felt sure that this could not be. Drag
ons or the giant monsters of the prehistoric ages
might have dwelt in this region,—that seemed quite
possible; but animals more familiar— never.
Small wonder it is that volumes of myth and folk
lore have grown up about these unearthly scenes
which so inspire the imaginations of the most
prosaic.
Let me give briefly, as an example of these tales,
the native legend of the origin of Batok. "Once
upon a time, in the far-away days of old, the
mountain Bromo was the habitation of a stern
giant and his lovely daughter. With the girl
another powerful giant of the region fell desper
ately in love, but the father of the fair maid was
inclined to doubt the sincerity and lasting quali
ties of her lover's affection, and decided to put it to
the proof by refusing his consent to the marriage
of his daughter with her admirer unless the latter
first performed a certain task,—the digging out in
a single night of the ugly sea of sand which sur
rounded the paternal residence. The infatuated
lover agreed at once and that very night set about
his task, making use of the half of a giant cocoa-
nut shell as a scoop or shovel. For a time the
work progressed rapidly and the accomplishment
of the condition seemed probable, but towards
morning the giant's limbs began to stiffen and it
 IN THE TENGGER MTS. 193

became evident that the appointed time was

insufficient. Weary with work and angered at the
certain prospect of failure, the lover with an oath
threw down his scoop, before the door of his task
master and strode away to other regions, never to
be heard of again." From that day to this no
one has been found of sufficient strength to remove
the scoop, and in the course of time it has been
overgrown with verdure and become a seemingly
natural feature of the scene of its owner's dis
comfiture.
From the cabin on the pass to the floor of the
sand sea, a thousand feet below, there is a zigzag
path. Down this the ponies are led, to be re
mounted at the foot for the hot ride around the
base of Batok and up the rough trail over lava, ash,
and sand deposits to the wall of Bromo's crater.
The sand sea is flat and soft, and destitute of all
vegetation, save heather, cypress grass, and weeds.
On a sunny day the reflection of the sun from the
sand is scorching, and veils are necessary for
women, and not altogether to be scorned by men,
if they wish to avoid uncomfortable burns. Part
way up the side of the crater the ponies have to be
left behind, and for the remainder of the ascent one
clambers up a nearly vertical path, at one point
making use of a necessary ladder.
Seven hundred feet above the sand sea, we
reached the narrow rim of the crater and experi
enced a strange sense of instability, for a strong
13
194 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

wind blew against us in puffs, and, now and again

caught up smoke and sulphurous vapour from
below and launched them in our faces, while at
the same time the noises from below were dis
quieting in their irregularity and strength. Our
eyes began to smart and our throats to feel raw.
From the bottom of the pit before us rose a thick
volume of smoke, hiding from view the opposite
walls and all within. The sounds below varied
from a dull roar as of thunder to an occasional
sharp clatter as of breaking china. At times the
noise became louder and more threatening, and
it seemed as if something was on the point of
being hurled from the cauldron within, and that
the frail wall on which we stood would be rent
asunder by the terrific convulsions which racked
its very foundations.
After a time the wind veered, and, freed from the
choking smoke, we were able to see the irregular
hole at the very bottom of the pit, six hundred
feet below, a pit over half a mile in circumfer
ence at the rim. The opposite walls, too,
became visible, steep faces of red-brown and grey,
seamed with rain gullies, gaunt and grim, mere
shells of volcanic rock heaved up by the internal
convulsions of bygone ages. To-day Bromo is
tame and well-behaved, a mere chimney or vent
hole for the escape of the hot gases and other by
products of the combustion in the furnace under
neath, but in its jagged cone, its surrounding
Author
the
by
Photos

2.

2.
THE
OF
BOTTOM
THE
CRATER
PIT

I.
UPPER
INTERIOR
WALLS
IN
THE
BROMO
CRATER
 IN THE TENGGER MTS. 195

accumulations of ash, and the huge blocks of

hardened lava which lie strewn about in its vi
cinity we have convincing evidence that it was
once actively, overwhelmingly destructive. It is
easy to understand the promptings that lead the
Tenggri mountaineers to flock to this spot each
year (in May) to offer sacrifice, in the hope of
appeasing the evil spirits whose manifestations
are thus real and terrifying.
On the way back to Tosari we noticed, wher
ever the mountain side had been dug out in the
process of road construction, the lines of the
successive layers of deposits that must indicate
to a geologist with great clearness the history of
the gradual formation of this volcanic area. A
comparison of the Tengger and the Banda crater
districts would probably show many points of
similarity and solve many moot questions. I
have purposely said nothing of the forests through
which we passed on the trail to the Moenggal Pass.
They are beautiful, but not so beautiful as others
that we saw later on.
There are other splendid excursions from
Tosari, but none, I think, that equal the one to the
Moenggal and the sand sea. Walks are plenty,
and the air of the mountains and the beautiful
scenery give all the needed incentive to pedestrian-
ism, but during the rainy season the trails are
many of them under water and some of the
prettiest bits quite inaccessible, unless one is
196 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

willing to wade,—and wet feet are apt to bring on

chills.
On leaving Tosari we retraced our steps to
Soerabaya and spent a couple of busy days making
final preparations for the next three weeks. Per
haps a few general facts about Java, which we
read at this time, may not be amiss to the reader.
We found them interesting for reference.
Java is about the size of New York State, a
third larger than Ireland, and four times as large
as Holland. Its length from east to west is
some six hundred and sixty odd miles and its
breadth from north to south varies from just
under fifty to about a hundred and twenty-five.
Its coasts are swampy, but in the interior there
are healthful plateaus and high mountains. Over
forty volcanoes, * .fifteen or more of them still
active, add to the traveller's interest and to the
uncertainty of native life and property. The
rivers are for the most part navigable by small
boats only, but are valuable for irrigation pur
poses. On the largest of these, the Solo, it is
said that one can row for nearly two hundred
miles, but even at the broadest reaches it is
impossible for steamers to plough through the
mud of the shallow channel. There are no lakes
on the island that are really worthy the name.
Owing to its favoured situation within three
hundred miles of the equator, and to the rich
1 Some authorities state there are over a hundred.
 IN THE TENGGER MTS. 197

nature of its volcanic deposits, Java is lavishly

endowed with every form of luxuriant tropical
vegetation and is capable of cultivation to the
highest degree. The two monsoons being fairly
constant and the temperature varying but little
from month to month, two or even three crops a
year may be gathered from the fertile soil by
employing a system of rotation. The greatest
heat has been recorded in November, at the opening
of the rainy season, the greatest cool in August,
during the middle of the dry season. The mer
cury, as a rule, is found between 650 and 900
Fahrenheit.
 CHAPTER XI

RUINED TEMPLES OF CENTRAL JAVA

TAKING the west-bound "Java express" which

leaves Soerabaya every morning at six, one
arrives at Soerakarta at ten, and, remaining
aboard, may reach Djokjakarta, the other native
capital (thirty-six miles farther on), about an
hour and a half later. The famous ruins of
Central Java are situated in the near vicinity of
Djokja, and are most easily visited from that city,
so that time is saved by taking this direct rail
route. There is, however, little of novelty or special
interest to be seen on this main line of travel
between Soerabaya and Djokja, and the traveller
with ample time will find it better worth while to
stop off at Soerakarta and continue by the more
roundabout way which leads through Ambarawa
and Magelang to the great Boro Boedoer ruins
and thence to Djokja.
The Java express is a comfortable train com
posed of corridor cars, with compartments for
first and second class, and a restaurant-car, where
not particularly appetizing meals are served under
the management of Chinese who lease the restau-
198
g
G
Id
o
0
«
c
H
V.
<
p
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 199

rant privilege from the government. This is the

through train for Batavia, or more accurately for
Bandoeng, a point somewhat over four hours by
rail south-east of Batavia, where all westward-
bound travellers are obliged to stop off for the
night. ' If a night service was deemed practicable
by the authorities one could reach Batavia in
less than eighteen hours after leaving Soerabaya,
but at present the journey requires over twenty-
eight, inclusive of stops.
The country through which one passes on this
direct line between Soerabaya and Djokja is low
and level, and almost wholly given up to rice culti
vation,—a beautiful country, but monotonously
beautiful, in its unvarying succession of sawahs,
kampongs, and cocoanut and banana groves.
We chose the longer route and changed at Soera-
karta to the privately owned road over which we
had already travelled from Semarang to the native
capital, retracing our former route as far as the
junction station of Gedong Djati, and there chang
ing cars and climbing in a south-westerly direction
to Ambarawa, 1542 feet above the sea. The
foot-hills are rich in teak forests, and the scenery
in this part of the journey is more varied than in
the earlier stages. The soil of this district is so full
of lime deposits that traces of lime are actually
found in the cuttings of the timber. The natives
practice a peculiar ingenuity in the conveyance
'In 1913.
200 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

of the logs to market and railroad. - Deep holes

are bored in the log ends, bamboos are inserted,
ropes attached, and the log is rolled along like a
roller, coolies or carbos furnishing the needed
motive power. It is easy to see that this method
succeeds admirably in blocking the roads on which
it is put in use.
Teak is the best wood for ship-building pur
poses, offering a strong resistance to the destruc
tive teredo, and it is also a favourite material for
furniture, especially for tropical use. The teak
forests are reserved as a government monopoly,
and their annual money yield has been known to
run nearly as high as a million dollars gold. They
cover an area in Java and Madoera of over a million
and two-thirds acres. In some cases, whole forests
are leased to private concerns on long-term leases
which provide for cutting and replanting every ten
years; in others, smaller sections are leased for short
terms, the cutting being strictly limited, and the
payment being made in the form of royalties
running as high as eight dollars gold a cubic yard.
The rice of these districts is poor, and as a rule
but one crop is harvested a year. During the
dry season a poor quality of Indian corn is planted
and grown in the beds of the streams. Pepper is
raised to a considerable extent and all the usual
fruit and vegetable products of the island are to
be found. During the last half of this part of our
journey we passed a number of fresh plantations of
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 201

mahogany-trees and we also noticed large quanti

ties of cotton-trees, whose coarse fibre is sent
to Australia, there to be mixed with wool for the
European market. Breadfruit-trees are also
common in this region, as are the graceful rain-
trees, the leaves of which droop at the first
approach of stormy weather.
Ambarawa, where we left the train for the
slower steam tram, is of chief importance as the
site of Fort Willem I., the outpost defence of
Semarang from attacks on the part of the natives
of the principalities. The fortifications were
begun shortly after the close of the Dipo Negoro
rebellion (in 1837), and completed some ten years
later, at the cost of a loss of native life which
seems hardly credible. Besides the fatalities
due to low fevers contracted in the unhealthy
marsh-lands, the unhappy peasants experienced
the horrors of famine, and thousands met death
from starvation, as a result of the system of en
forced labour which took the cultivators from the
crops and reduced the yield of foodstuffs to an
inadequate minimum.
Two or three miles beyond Ambarawa we took
the rack-rail and began a gradual ascent which
elevated us another six hundred feet above sea-
level. The terraced sawahs reached far up on the
hillsides, and down below in the valley the whole
country seemed one great rice-field. In little
raised shelters, scattered at short intervals, small
202 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

native boys were tending networks of string from

which were suspended bits of rag or paper, the
motion of these frightening away the enemies of
the crops.
As we reached the higher levels there was, for a
little while, a much more restricted view, but as the
descent began, and the rack-rail was left behind,
the splendid highlands of the province of Kedoe
came into full view, and we entered the charming
valley of the Ello, replete with all the fresh beau
ties of mountain scenery. In the distance, over
the hilltops or through breaks in the valley wall,
loomed the great masses of Merbaboe, Merapi,
Soembing, and Sondoro, volcanoes rising, all of
them, to a height of nine or ten thousand feet.
Suddenly down came the rain in torrents, cut
ting off all views but those of the near-by fields,
where the peasants seemed suddenly transformed
into animated sentry-boxes, hidden as they were
in their peculiar rain covers of split bamboo reach
ing to the knees and fitting closely about the head
and shoulders. As we neared the end of our rail
way journey at Magelang our train gave the first
sign of its true tram-car character by slowly ding-
donging its way through the main streets of the
outlying villages.
Magelang is a town of 28,000 and the capital of
the province, but its chief importance to the
Dutch is as a garrison town which forms the
strategic key to the neighbouring principality of
 Photo by the Author
A GALLERY, BORO BOEDOER
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 203

Djokjakarta. Its chief activities, as far as we saw

them in passing through thus rapidly, seemed to be
nearly all closely connected with the predominant
military feature. Barracks, military hospitals,
rifle-butts, and magazines were numerous, and the
streets were full of soldiers and officers. Magelang
lies in a fertile plain, surrounded by rice-fields and,
at a greater distance, by sugar and coffee planta
tions. Its hotels are not highly recommendable,
and it is probably better to go on to Djokja, or
to the rest-house at the Boro Boedoer ruins, for
the night.
From Magelang to the Boro Boedoer is a motor
ride of nine miles, and by retaining the motor for
the additional trip to Djokja one may also visit
in the most comfortable way the Mendoet ruins be
sides getting a far better idea of the country than
is to be had from the train. We had sent word
to Magelang in advance to engage a car and a
Cadillac was waiting for us when we had finished
rijstafel at the hotel.
The road to the ruins is for the most part level,
shaded by kanaris and other magnificent trees,
and with rice-fields on either side, and now and
again a prosperous kampong with its name
carved or painted on an elaborate, wooden arch.
If one may judge by the numbers of natives on
the road, this region must be thickly populated.
The costumes differed in several respects from
those that we had hitherto seen. Many of the men
204 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

wore a quaint headgear, resembling the front half of

a jockey cap of which the rear had been removed to
make room for the protrusion of the hair-knot and
turban. The women wore their sarongs bound
closely over the bosom in such a way as to accentu
ate the rounded lines of their exceptionally fine
figures. Unfortunately the good looks of the
women are generally spoiled, so far as their heads
are concerned, by their habit of disfiguring the
ears with enormous, heavy rings.
A few hundred yards before arrival at the
government "passanggrahan" there is a slight
up-grade, and then, as we rounded the shoulder
of a small hill, we caught glimpses to the right,
through the trees, of a squat, pyramidal mass of
grey stone, broken, irregular, and unimposing,
—the world-famous ruins of the Tjandi Boro
Boedoer, considered by many the most interesting
Buddhist remains in all Asia. One's first impres
sion is disappointing, especially if one has the mis
fortune to arrive as we did in a drizzling rain at the
hour of twilight, and one's enthusiasm is apt to be
somewhat dampened in the matter of ruins and
keener in the direction of hot tea and dry clothes.
The passanggrahan or rest-house is fairly com
fortable and the food is not bad, but the mos
quitoes interfere seriously with one's pleasure.
The Tjandi Boro Boedoer, or "Shrine of the
Many Buddhas, " is an exalted form of dagoba,
supposed to have been built to shelter some por
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 205

tion of the ashes of the " Great Enlightened One,"

which were taken by the Indian King Asoka from
their original resting-places and distributed in
84,000 parts throughout the Buddhist world, to be
reburied under such sacred mounds and venerated
by rapidly increasing bodies of converts in coun
tries far remote. It is reasonably established
from a critical examination of its carvings and
sculptures that it was erected under the auspices
of members of the northern sect or Mahayanists,
the more progressive sect, which, in its growth, took
over en masse most of the popular Hindu gods
and their followers and eventually spread through
Nepaul and Thibet to China and Japan. Its
builder was undoubtedly a prince or king of the
days when this region was part of the ancient
Hindu state of Mataram, but this is the extent
of our present' knowledge, and attempts to place
the date of construction more definitely are based
merely on inference and conjecture.
It is a matter of historical knowledge that in 603
A.D., a prince of Guzerat, India, migrated to this
central district of Java and settled here with some
5000 or more followers. It is also well known that
the Hindus had been conquered by the Mahometans
before the first arrival of the Portuguese in the be
ginning of the sixteenth century. Professor Kern
states that certain inscriptions in old Javanese on
the base walls of the shrine itself, now covered by
reinforcing layers of stone, are of the ninth century.
206 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

An important inscription of 656 a.d., recently

unearthed in Sumatra, makes mention of a seven-
story temple or shrine erected to the five Dhyani
Buddhas by the Maharajah Adirajah (or King)
Adityadhanna of Prathanna (or Great Java).
This may or may not be a reference to the Boro
Boedoer, for we know merely that the latter was
built by a prince of the sect that worshipped the
Dhyani Buddhas and that it is usually spoken of as
having seven stories. Rhys Davids states it as
his conclusion that the shrine was built in the thir
teenth century and Groneman believes it to have
been in existence as early as the ninth, which
latter, in the view of the recent work of Kern,
seems more likely to be correct.
During the wars which, towards the end of the
fifteenth century, established the Moslem suprem
acy in Java, this great Buddhist shrine probably
suffered serious damage at the hands of the vandal
conquerors. It may be that the covering of earth
and ashes under which it subsequently lay hidden
for approximately three centuries was piled upon it
by its friends, in the hope of protecting it from
injury, or this may have been merely the gradual
accretions due to purely natural causes. At all
events, weakened by rains and earthquakes, over
grown by vegetation, and permitted to fall into a
state of ruin and decay by the unsympathetic
followers of the prophet, the Boro Boedoer was
completely lost to notice till the early nineteenth
A STAIRWAY ARCH, BORO BOEDOER
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 207

century. During this long eclipse of its glory its

history seems also to have been completely lost.
It was finally rediscovered by government sur
veyors during the governorship of Sir Stamford
Raffles at the time of the British occupation, and a
casual examination gave such promise of valuable
archaeological results that a large body of labour
ers was put to work at once to remove the
accumulation of overgrowth and debris. In two
months the whole shrine was uncovered, but unfor
tunately this well-meant work proved the further
undoing of the monument, for the work of excav
ation was not followed, as it should have been, by
work of reinforcement and restoration, and during
the succeeding years nothing was done to prevent
native or foreign iconoclasts from further dama
ging the structure and carrying away its sculptured
stones for the adornment of their gardens or to
become part of the foundations of their houses.
Bared of its protective covering the Tjandi be
came more than ever the victim of the elements,
and the rain, trickling through its cracked terraces
and percolating through its earthen core, wedged
apart its stones and caused its walls to bulge.
These walls were far too weak in any case, for the
heavy masses of stone reinforcement at the base
seem to have proved a necessary addition to the
original plans even before the completion of the
work of sculpturing the walls. Fortunately there
has been a veritable archaeological renaissance
208 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

in Java during the past few years, and the restor

ation of many of these splendid memorials has
been put in the hands of Dutch army engineers,
who have already accomplished much conscien
tious work in their preservation from further
destruction.
Returning to the ruins in the early morning for
a more extended examination, we found our first
impression of disappointment rapidly displaced
by a growing appreciation of the wealth of artistic
detail, to which, far more than to its more purely
architectural features, the shrine owes its fame.
As is the case with so many shrines, not only in
Asia, but in Central and South America, the pri
mary construction of the Boro Boedoer was effected
by truncating a hill more or less pyramidal in
form, filling out and slicing off its sides and sheath
ing them with stone, digging out central chambers
below the level top, and covering this last with a
domed or spired dagoba. The Boro Boedoer is
not, as it appears, a solid mass of masonry, but
a mass of earth over which has been built a thin
shell of stone. The hill whose crest has been thus
covered is low and irregular, overlooking a plain of
waving palm-trees. From the highest point of the
shrine, a bare hundred feet above the plain, there
is a view of distant volcanoes and the indented
peaks of a line of high mountains. The beauty
of nature seems rather to dwarf the work of man,
and the site of the shrine impresses one as badly
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 209

selected, tending as it does to decry rather than

to enhance the proportions and architectural value
of the monument.
The material of the walls of the Tjandi is porous
trachyte or lava stone, of a dull grey hue, cut in
small blocks. The form of the structure is that
of a truncated step pyramid, with base dimensions
of about four hundred feet, resting on a platform
practically square and facing the cardinal points.
Strictly speaking the walls have thirty-six sides,
not four, for each main wall juts out several times
as it approaches the middle point from either end.
There is not a single pillar or column in the whole
structure, and no doors nor windows are to be
found,—merely tier after tier of galleries joined by
stairways to a top platform. The original base is
now hidden by some seven thousand cubic yards of
reinforcing stone blocks which form the present
visible base. With it lie buried from sight the
only inscriptions yet discovered.
Above the present base, the side walls are ter
raced in such a way as to form galleries about
seven feet wide, through which one may walk
between an outer wall, five feet thick, which is
actually the parapet of the inner wall of the gal
lery next below, and an inner one, whose parapet
similarly forms an outer wall for the gallery above.
These galleries run continuously around the
Tjandi, broken only by a stone stairway at the
middle of each side. Their walls are adorned
14
210 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

with over a thousand sculptured bas-reliefs depict

ing scenes from the life of Gautama Buddha (the
Buddha of this world) in his various incarnations,
groups of Buddhas, angels, and saints. Above
these sculptures, on the parapets of the walls, are
small recessed shrines, in all over four hundred,
each containing a Buddha image a couple of feet
high.
Above the four sculptured galleries rise three
tiers of circular terraces bearing, altogether,
seventy-two bell-shaped, latticed dagobas, each
about five feet in height and containing a lotus-
enthroned Buddha, which may be seen through the
lozenge-shaped openings in the sides. To touch
one of these images is thought to bring good luck,
but this is merely putting a premium on a long
reach. In one or two cases, the upper part of
the enclosing dagoba has disappeared, and the
Buddha within presents the rather absurd ap
pearance of being seated in a bath-tub. From
the centre of the upper of these circular ter
races rises what is left of the former apex of the
shrine, a ruined dagoba about thirty feet high,
containing in an interior chamber a large and
apparently unfinished image thought to represent
the Buddha yet to come. The cone or parasol-
shaped spire which doubtless once covered this
highest dagoba has wholly disappeared.
More interesting even than the novel form of
construction of the Boro Boedoer, and the many
a
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o
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a
a
a
O
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 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 211

peculiarities of its architectural details, are its

remarkable wall sculptures. The subjects are al
most beyond enumeration and include practically
every phase of life and action. One finds por
trayed on these walls by artists of by-gone
centuries scenes that may still be seen in the
Java of to-day. Kings and nobles, dancing
girls and palace women, peasants and fishermen,
bearded strangers from foreign lands, elephants
and monkeys, deer and horses, birds and fish, fruit-
and shade-trees, native houses, ships, war chariots,
ploughs, musical instruments, state umbrellas, and
hundreds of other things typical of the country
are depicted here in a way that is wonderfully life
like and truthful. The representations of scenes
from the " jatakas" (or tales of the life of Amida
Buddha in his earlier incarnations) are particularly
interesting, for each one has its story, and some
of these are very entertaining. Let me quote
two of the shorter ones exactly as they are given
in the valuable monograph of Dr. J. Groneman:
"The Lord being a turtle in the sea perceives
a ship sinking and surrounded by sharks and other
fishes. Taking the crew and the passengers on
his back, he carries them to the shore, where he
offers them his own body as food." And:
"One day the Lord, who was a woodpecker then,
met with a lion which had a bone sticking in his
throat. The woodpecker got the lion out of diffi
culty by putting a piece of wood in its mouth and
212 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

extracting the bone. A long time afterwards the

woodpecker was flying about in search of food and
met the lion near an antelope killed a minute before.
The woodpecker, being nearly famished, after a long
hesitation made bold to ask for a part of the lion's
prey, but the latter refuses, asking the woodpecker
whether he was tired of life and remarking that he
ought to be glad once to have escaped from its
mouth. A Hon is not guilty of womanly com
passion. Abashed the woodpecker flies off, fol
lowed by a fawn who advises him to pick out the
lion's eyes and take of his prey as much as he likes.
The woodpecker replies that there is nothing like
virtue. He who acts well is sure to find his
reward in a life hereafter: he who returns evil for
evil is sure to lose the merit of his virtues. The
fawn praises the sanctity and wisdom of the wood
pecker and vanishes."
The stairways of the Boro Boedoer deserve
a word or two of mention. They formerly had
gate-houses at each landing and their arches are
ornamented with great heads with bulging
eyes. At the sides are the heads of "nagas,"
curious monsters with upper lips prolonged into
short trunks which cause them often to be mis
taken for elephants.
This wonderful relic, of a civilization which has
very apparently undergone utter artistic dis
solution under the demoralizing influences of the
conquering Moslem and his discountenance of the
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 213

earlier religion, is actually venerated and to some

extent worshipped to this day by the peasantry,
doubtless on the wise principle that it is best to
propitiate all gods alike. Buddhism as a live
religion has long since disappeared from Java,
but it has left behind it memorials far more endur
ing than any that are apt to be created by its
successors, memorials that may serve to preserve
the seed of its doctrines pure and unchanged
through the centuries, some day perhaps to renew
the life of former days. As a Buddhist shrine the
Boro Boedoer was made the object of a pilgrimage
in 1896, by his late majesty, King Chulalongkorn
of Siam, the only independent Buddhist ruler of
his time.
In a grove, a short distance from the principal
ruin, there is an artistic little temple or shrine
known as the Tjandi Pawan or "Kitchen Shrine, "
from the sooty, smoke-charred walls of its inner
chamber. The images which undoubtedly at one
time were housed in this building are now quite
gone, but the structure itself has been carefully
restored and is, in its way, a little gem.
A mile and a half away isanothershrinewell worth
a visit,—the Mendoet Tjandi. This temple is py
ramidal in form and about sixty feet high, with ex
terior walls elaborately sculptured. In an interior
chamber, some ten feet square, are the figures that
give it its chief interest to the stranger, three
stone statues of more than life size. The largest
214 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

and central one is to-day almost universally

identified as a Buddha, the others being variously
denominated as Buddhas, Bodhisatvas, princely
benefactors or worshippers, or even as "adoring
women." The statues are very evidently not in
their original positions, and there is a certain
resultant loss of dignity, but the large figure in
particular is a fine piece of work and quite as
impressive as any of its period in all Eastern Asia.
The Tjandi Mendoet was' built at a period slightly
later than the Boro Boedoer, was rediscovered in
1835, and restored in 1897.
From the small village of Mendoet, a few yards
from the shrine, it is a drive of, I should say,
about a dozen miles to the city of Djokjakarta.
For the greater part of the way the road is a broad
highway, alongside which runs a narrower, less
carefully kept road used by heavy carts and
country vehicles that might block the traffic if
allowed on the main thoroughfare. Lines of
shade-trees border this road, and beyond on either
side are plantations and rice-fields. At least once
we passed under the shade of one of the broad road
shelters that spread their picturesque, conical,
red-tiled roofs, across the road every few miles.
In the old days when pony-posting was the usual
mode of travel these were the points where
changes of ponies were made. To-day they
serve rather as resting places, where the tired
peasants and coolies may ease their loads and
THE CHIEF IMAGE OF THE MF.NDOET TEMPLE
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 215

get a momentary respite from the fierce rays of

the sun.
Several times we went by villages where fairs or
markets were in progress, scenes of great animation
and full of vivid, gay colour. It was curious to see
women lying beside their wares in precisely the
attitude of the reclining Buddha images and far
more artistic in form and costume. Besides
these recumbent goddesses there were numbers of
others seated under huge straw-coloured umbrellas,
chewing their abominable, mouth- and teeth-stain
ing sirih with great avidity. Children, chickens,
and produce of every variety are the other prin
cipal features of these wayside markets. The
road itself is also full of life. Planters tear by in
motor-cars, or pass more sedately in quaint four-
pony carryalls or on horseback, sados are plentiful,
and there is a constant procession of pedestrians,
for the most part, of the poorest classes, for no one
walks in Java who can afford to ride or drive.

The country around Djokja, like that about all

cities that have been at one time the centres of
their respective civilizations, is fairly dotted with
ruins. The plain of Prambanan, some twenty
miles out, in the direction of Solo, is especially
rich in temple remains. It is advisable to make
the excursion to Prambanan, if possible, by motor
car, as the railway station is a long distance from
the most interesting of the ruins, and good vehi
216 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

cles are not always to be had when most needed.

We made use of the car in which we had come
from Magelang and the Boro Boedoer, and, even
then, found some difficulty in reaching our desired
destination. It was the season of the heavy
rains, the road was muddy and in some places
almost impassable, and at one point a bridge over
the Oepek River had been carried away, leaving
no choice but to attempt to ford the stream. We
stuck ingloriously in mid-stream for some time,
but were finally pulled out by a score or two of
good-natured natives, and, after about an hour's
drive from Djokja, drew up at the shed-like office
of the government officials in charge of the restora
tion of the finest group of the Prambanan tem
ples, the Tjandi Loro Djonggrang.
Unlike the Boro Boedoer and Mendoet shrines,
these temples are monuments of the Hindu or Brah
man faith and built for the worship of Siva, Kali his
wife (also known as Durga, Parvati, or Loro Djong
grang, the last of these meaning the virgin), Gunesh
his son, and the two other gods who with Siva
compose the Brahman trinity,—Brahma and Vish
nu. The precise date of their erection is un
known, but, as in the case of the majority of the
ruins of the Prambanan plain, it may roughly be
given as the ninth century. Neglected and
almost forgotten from the time of the Mahometan
conquest, they were unknown to the outer world
till, in 1797, a Dutch engineer rediscovered them
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 217

in his search for a suitable site for a Dutch fort.

Thereafter, and in fact till 1885, nothing was done
to protect them, but in recent years the Archaeo
logical Society of Djokjakarta has taken up with
zeal the work of restoration and reconstruction
of the principal buildings. Unfortunately all but
two or three of the original group of over a hundred
had already fallen into the last stages of decay and
ruin, and to-day, in spite of the conscientious work
of the restorers, it is difficult to frame more than an
imaginative conception of the appearance of the
original whole. In the plan of construction three
circular walls enclosed three circular rows of small
shrines, and in the centre stood a group of eight
more important shrines arranged in an oblong,
three on each side and one at each end to the north
and south. Of all these buildings there remain in
a recognizable state of preservation only the three of
the western line and the central one of the eastern.
The central western temple is the most import
ant and may serve us as an example of the rest.
It is pyramidal and rests on a base which is
practically square. Its outer walls are covered
with bas-reliefs and other sculptures of great ar
tistic merit and careful workmanship, representing
scenes from the " Ramayana " and other tales of
the Hindu mythology. An entrance on each side
is reached by a corresponding stairway, and an
external gallery surrounds the structure at some
distance from the ground level.
218 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

The interior contains four chambers and a sort

of entrance hall. In the largest or central cham
ber, which is about twenty feet square, there is
an image of Siva as Mahadewa, or supreme
divinity, a four-armed, bearded god, with a snake
for a belt. In the west chamber squats an amus
ing representation of Gunesh, the popular ele
phant-headed son of Siva. In the room to the
south is Siva again,—this time as the "Guru," the
penitent recluse, with trident and water bottle.
Lastly, in the north chamber, is an interesting
statue of Kali or Loro Djonggrang, Siva's wife,
an extraordinary creature with eight arms and
the prominent breasts and hips so much admired
by the Hindu artists. The goddess is represented
standing on her sacred cow, and grasping by
the hair a small demon or evil spirit, who has evi
dently been caught in an attempt to club this, her
favourite beast. This statue, which is just about
life-size, is responsible for the name of this entire
group.
In the other buildings there are images of Brah
ma, of Siva's steed, the bull Nandi, and a few frag
ments; the rest have been removed for repairs
or have long since entirely disappeared. In one
building, on the occasion of our visit, part of the
floor had been removed, revealing a deep well
below, probably used as a treasure chamber in
the days of old.
The exteriors of these temples, built, like the
 OS

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 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 219

Boro Boedoer, of small blocks of lava stone, are cov

ered, as I have already said, with elaborate carv
ings. Grotesque representations of the "monkey
king" and his followers recur again and again, as do
rather graceful groups of dancing girls or, as they
are called by foreign visitors, "the three graces."
The incidental ornamentations, borders, friezes,
and the like, are particularly artistic, and might
well be adapted to modern use. To appreciate
such structures as these temples at even a fair
part of their real value, one should give days to
their study. In a rapid survey much of the very
best is certain to be passed by unseen.
At a short distance by road from the Loro
Djonggrang is the Tjandi Sewoe, or "thousand
temples. " This group has suffered so seriously at
the hands of vandals, and from the destructive
earthquakes, that no possible idea of the original
plan can be had without reference to the diagrams
of the archaeologists. From these, however, we
learned that in this case there was a central cruci
form shrine of the usual truncated pyramid type,
surrounded by four successively larger squares of
small shrines, two hundred and forty in all, and
each about eleven feet square and eighteen high.
The entire enclosure, some five hundred feet
square, was protected by a wall, with a gateway on
each side, through which passed a broad, straight
avenue leading to the central edifice. These gates
were guarded by pairs of grotesque, pot-bellied,
220 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

kneeling, stone figures, perhaps ten feet high,

with fierce mustaches, tusk-like teeth, and "pop"
eyes, and with snakes as head, arm, and body
ornaments. Several of these hideous figures have
been removed from their original positions and
two of them grace the compound of the Dutch
Residency at Djokja.
The Tjandi Sewoe was built in 1094, according
to old court documents still in existence in the
Solo archives, and there is reason to believe that it
remained in a comparatively fair state of preserva
tion till a severe earthquake, accompanying an
eruption of Merapi in 1867, shook down the roof
of the principal building and cracked, upset,
half-buried, and thoroughly demoralized practi
cally all of the smaller shrines. There is ample
room for restorative work here, for at every step
one finds ends of images or bits of fine bas-relief
sticking out of the irregular mounds of earth
heaped up by the last upheaval. In the present
condition of the group the visitor is most interested
by the cleverly conceived vaulting of the domed
roofs of the smaller shrines, which contain recessed
niches evidently intended to hold small images or
similar objects.
There are many more ruined temples on this
Prambanan plain, and on one elevated piece of
ground lie the scant remains of a former palace
of Mataram days. As we drove along the main
road we saw numbers of half-overgrown walls and
A GUARDIAN OF THE TJANDI SEWOE
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 221

masses of masonry. There is food here for almost

unlimited archaeological research and investi
gation, and, moreover, if one has investigated these
Prambanan ruins to his heart's content and is
still unsatisfied, he will find more on the Dieng
plateau, only a few miles away. There is some
thing rather sad in contemplating all this wealth of
art that represents a civilization which has proved
too weak to hold its own against the brutal on
slaught of the religious fanatic from without. It
seems to be the same old story of the expansion of
the artistic side of a people's nature, at the expense
of its moral and physical strength, and the inevi
table sequel of defeat and destruction.
We took another half-day excursion from
Djokja to the tombs of the Mahometan princes at
Pasargede, four miles to the south. After a tire
some ride over a dusty, nearly deserted road, we
alighted at an ancient mosque, an interesting old
building, set in picturesque surroundings, shaded
by the foliage of splendid trees and opening on a
pool or tank of brackish, green water. To visit the
tombs, which are a few yards behind the mosque,
it is necessary to provide oneself with a pass secured
through the offices of the residency. Upon our
presenting our pass, the official deputed to show
us about soon presented himself. This gentle
man, and he was unmistakably such, was arrayed
in native head-kain, body-kain artistically deco
rated in "batik" work (coloured designs applied by
222 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

wax stencil), black coat with gold buttons, white

waistcoat, foreign boots, a red belt with green and
gold ornamentations, and a kris encased in a sheath
elaborately adorned with gold. Behind him an at
tendant followed closely with the payang or official
umbrella indicative of rank.
In the company of this irreproachable guide we
passed through quaint brick gateways leading into
gardens and walled compounds; paused at a holy
water or purification tank to look at the goldfish
and a curious albino turtle; again, to examine a
large brick tomb bearing the date 1509-79, and
ornamented with a number of grotesque sculptured
heads ; and finally, skirting the edge of a cemetery
where the lesser princelings and other royalties
of minor importance are buried, entered the
peculiar structure which encloses the marble tombs
of the rulers of Mataram. This memorial build
ing has been erected quite recently by the Susu-
hunan of Soerakarta, and is a sad reflection on the
artistic decadence of the people in the past few
centuries. Artistically and architecturally it is a
failure. The individual beauty and costliness of
its carved woodwork appear to little advantage
in the presence of the marble tombs, while these
in turn are cheapened by their wooden roofs or
sheds and their draperies of white cotton cloth.
Whatever the architectural merit, the extreme
sanctity of this building in the eyes of the natives
is very certain, for our official and the old turbaned
 RUINS OF CENTRAL JAVA 223

priest who went about with us, before entering the

portals, both of them placed on their shoulders a
sort of stole, and, at certain points in the interior,
dropped on hands and knees and crawled about in
the humble, reverential attitude of the "dodok, "
the cringing crawl obligatory also in the court
audiences of the living rulers.
At a short distance from the tomb enclosure, in a
square shaded by fine waringins, is a small porti-
coed shed containing a flat, blackened, stone
tablet, bearing inscriptions in English, French,
Dutch, and Latin. The only one of these which
is readily decipherable reads "Contemnite vos
contemptu veredique in fortuna. " These inscrip
tions are said to be the work of a European who
was imprisoned here over a century ago in the days
when the kraton of the emperor stood close by.
Under the portico are a couple of solid stone balls,
one of them a foot in diameter. These were prob
ably cannon-balls, but the natives assert them to
have been used as playthings by the children of
one of the old-time rulers. Truly they must have
been giants in those days !
 CHAPTER XII

THE NATIVE CAPITAL AND PALACE OF DJOKJAKARTA

DJOKJAKARTA, or Yugyakarta, as Sir

Stamford Raffles more phonetically trans
literates the name of the city, once capital of the
successive Hindu and Mahometan states of Mata-
ram, is situated on a broad plain near the foot of
the volcano Merapi, about thirty-five miles from
Soerakarta and perhaps twenty-five from the
Indian Ocean. In the earlier days, as we have
seen, the two present native principalities formed
one powerful empire, a great central state that
held fast to its earlier gods and faiths for many
years after the Hindu kingdoms of Padjadjaram
to the west and Madjapahit to the east had yielded
to the behests of the Mahometan conquerors. In
this region the Dutch found the natives inclined
to offer a strong resistance to their policies of
colonization and control, and of all the native
towns of Java the cities of Mataram were the last
to give up the struggle for independence, and then
only after a final desperate effort in the early years
of the nineteenth century. In connection with
324
 DJOKJAKARTA 225

Soerakarta I have already told of the cunning

diplomacy by which the Dutch gradually came into
control, and of how, by successive steps, they
weakened the power of the native rulers.
Present conditions at Djokja are the exact
counterpart of those at Solo,—the same puppet
ruler, native court life, Dutch Resident, and garri
son,—but Djokja is even more typically Javanese
in its street scenes and the sights of its native
quarters, while, for some unknown reason, its
people impress one less as puppets and more as
men. There is a certain something in the carriage
and expression of the people of Djokja expressive
of pride and high spirit, the inheritance of a great
past, the memories of which still linger in the
minds of the present generation and are kept
alive by legend, song, and play.
The Djokjakarta Residency is a substantial
structure of the usual classic order, set in a roomy
compound on the main street. Within its grounds
there is a temporary shed or shelter containing
a most interesting collection of images and frag
ments of sculptures from the ruined temples
of the vicinity. Opposite is the Dutch fort,
Vredenburg, a moated, bastioned fortification
of fairly modern construction, which serves as
quarters for the local garrison of five hundred
soldiers. Near by is the comfortable foreign
club, and scattered about the neighbourhood are
the residences of the European officials and busi
15
226 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

ness men. The best hotels and many of the best

shops are found on the main street not far away.
The traveller who is anxious to buy specimens
of the native art, but is often deterred by the
prospect of being defrauded or being obliged to
endure the misery of tiresome bargaining, will
experience a positive pleasure in visiting the sales
rooms of a Dutch society which has for its aim
the encouragement and exploitation of the native
arts and industries. Here each article is labelled
with a price-mark, and the price is not subject to
change, while there is another advantage in the fact
that here under one roof one may see and buy
practically anything of native make. There
are kains and sarongs of artistic shades and orna
mented with thoroughly Javanese designs in
batik, screens, cigar cases, card cases, book covers,
and other articles of carbo leather, embellished
with graceful designs, genuine krisses with ela
borately carved handles and strange, crooked,
murderous blades, richly carved teakwood furni
ture, gold and silver jewelry and tableware, in
which native designs have been applied to foreign
forms and uses—all these and a thousand and one
more, ranging from objects of great value to pic
ture postcards, and the quaint, jointed figures of
coloured leather and pasteboard which are used
as marionettes in the native shadow plays. I
found this shop by far the most satisfactory in the
whole Orient, though of course there are others
 DJOKJAKARTA 227

of greater proportions and greater pretence else

where.
The two most striking industries of Java are
the making of batik and the making of the kris.
Every true Javanese that can afford it wears
batik head- and body-kain and carries a kris in his
belt. The value of both batik and kris varies
immensely and depends upon the beauty and
fineness of the work of the artisan. A batik
sarong, for instance, may be bought for a dollar
gold, and another may cost as high as seventy or
eighty dollars. Djokja is the centre of the batik
industry and the majority of its women are adepts
in the production of this artistic fabric. Batik
is cotton cloth on which designs have been printed
in a special way. Melted white wax is allowed to
trickle from the small end of a funnel upon those
portions of the fabric that it is not desired to
colour, the operation being exactly duplicated on
the two sides. This done, the cloth is dipped in the
dye vat, withdrawn and hung up to dry, and the
wax removed later with the use of boiling water.
This series of operations is repeated in the applica
tion of each colour, till the entire design is trans
ferred. The designs are of every conceivable
description, from conventional flowers and geo
metrical figures to jungle scenes and quaint
representations of wild beasts. Certain designs
may be worn only by royalty, others by priests,
and so on. Unfortunately this laboriously pre
228 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

pared fabric is being gradually supplanted by the

cheaper but less beautiful product of European
looms.
The kris is a weapon with a blade about a foot
long and a handle of wood, horn, or metal, usually
highly carved. It fits into a sheath or scabbard,
and is worn stuck through the belt near the middle
of the back. Once a necessary weapon of self-
protection, the kris has of late years, in Java at
least, become a mere ornament and symbol of
rank and position. Like the swords worn, prior
to the restoration of 1868, by Japanese of rank,
the krisses of the Malays are known for their fine
temper and for their artistic merit as well. Their
blades are generally damascened and have a sort
of watered surface or grain. A glance at the kris
at once establishes to the practised eye the dis
trict of its origin, and the differences between the
krisses of Atjeh, of Madoera, of Bali, and even of
East and West Java are well marked.
In the ceremonial court costume of the men, the
presence of the kris, in combination with the bared
upper half of the body, is a strong reminder of the
days when weapons were a far more important
part of the personal accoutrement than clothes.
It is curious to notice that, as in so many eastern
countries, costumes resembling the court cos
tume are worn if possible by even the lowliest
bride and groom on their nuptial day. Other
features of court dress are the peculiar draping
 DJOKJAKARTA 229

of the men's body-kain so as to produce an effect

somewhat like that of paniers, and the arrange
ment of the hair with a curl hanging down behind
the right ear. The women affect at such times
huge black earrings or rather staples, which ruin
their otherwise good looks.
Djokja is a town of 80,000 inhabitants, inclusive
of 5000 Chinese and about 1500 Europeans. Over
15,000 of these people live within the high walls
of the kraton, which, like the "Forbidden City"
of Peking, is really a city rather than a palace.
This kraton and the former palace, the "Water
Castle," are the two great sights of the capital
city. For a visit to these passes must be secured
in advance through the Resident.
The Water Castle, Taman Sarie, or "Garden
of Flowers," is a ruined palace built on plans of a
Portuguese architect in 1758 for the then sovereign,
Hamangkoe Boewono I. Its almost complete
destruction was due to the terrible earthquake of
1867, which did such tremendous damage to
Djokja and its vicinity. In its present ruined
condition it still serves to give one a quite vivid
idea of the sort of life lived by the semi-barbarous
native monarchs—an Arabian Nights existence,
at once primitive and luxurious to an excess.
Presenting the permit at the guard-house at the
side gate, we were at once admitted and furnished
with a guide. The palace is a collection of stone,
brick, and stucco buildings of no established form
230 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

of architecture and falling rapidly into an un

recognizable condition. Here and there a few
traces still remain of garish colouring, which must
have given the buildings in their prime the cheap
and tawdry appearance of the gates and palace
buildings of the palace of the Oude king at
Lucknow, India. To-day the walls are pretty gen
erally in ruin,—weather-stained, and overgrown
with moss, lichen, and creepers, and in this con
dition they are probably quite as pleasing to
the eye as in their original state. It is said that
this palace was built on an island in an artificial
lake and could, at the will of the Sultan, be
flooded and wholly submerged with the exception
of certain secret chambers, accessible from the
city by subterranean passages, where the royal
owner could live in comparative safety from attack.
Unfortunately it takes but a glance to prove the
imaginative quality of this story, for there are
several large buildings, far too lofty and on too
high ground to be capable of being flooded. Such,
for instance, is the great two-storied banquet hall,
a structure, by the by, which looks like the ruins
of two university refectories or chapels, placed end
to end.
Besides the banquet hall there are two buildings
that have preserved their striking individuality
in the midst of this, for the most part, indistinguish
able mass of disintegrating walls, abandoned
gardens, and slimy tanks of brackish water. The
 DJOKJAKARTA 231

first of these, the private apartments of the Sultan,

are reached through a sort of tunnel. There are
two or three rooms, dank and unwholesome, one
containing a bed or couch, half wood, half masonry,
on which the Sultan is said to have actually slept.
It is difficult to believe that this was not a dungeon
for criminals rather than a monarch's living apart
ment, or perhaps these rooms were used only
in case of great emergency, when life was in danger
or absolute seclusion desired. It is said that it was
from this apartment that the Sultan Hamankoe
Boewono IV was forcibly dragged and removed to
the Dutch fort by the irate Daendals, who had
been kept waiting an hour after the hour appointed
for an audience. The other point of interest is the
Simoor Gamelang or "musical spring," a building
constructed about a deep well, with a double tier
of arched stone galleries and chambers.
It seems a great pity that steps are not taken
before it is too late, to collect all the stories of this
mysterious old palace and put them in such form
as to be of use to visitors. It is insufficiently
satisfying to one gifted, like the elephant's child
of Kipling, with insatiable curiosity, to have every
question answered by the stupid guide "Sultan's
bath," "Sultan's room," or "Don't know." We
wanted to know the uses of the many water tanks,
—which were for mere ornament, which for bath
ing, which for religious purification,—where the
women lived, and the children, and where the
232 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS
I".

Sultan did his work, and where he was amused,

and not one of these things were we able to find
out. There is a certain fascination about this
old ruined palace, a certain air of mystery that
arouses a feeling that there are some as yet un
discovered secrets here, some hidden treasure, or
some unknown, underground halls or cells. As we
wandered about the courts and former gardens we
constantly came upon some fresh pavilion, water
fall, or arch. These grounds could be made into
one of the most attractive parks in Java with
the expenditure of a small amount of money and
labour, and at the same time a breeding place of
fevers and pestilential germs could be got rid of.
Of greater interest to the visitor to Djokja is
the kraton of the present Sultan. This, like the
kraton at Solo, opens on an aloun-aloun or
square. This square was in earlier days the scene
of all public executions. It is remarkable to-day
chiefly for its two fine waringin-trees trimmed to
the semblance of the royal payong or state
umbrella. To the sides are the now deserted
buildings of the courts of justice and a mosque.
Having secured the required permission to visit
the kraton, we drove to the gate and, at a guard
house full of native soldiers in dark uniforms,
brimless, black hats, and bare feet, our passes
were taken up and an official guide took us in
charge. Passing on through two or three outer
courts lined with whitewashed walls, we finally
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arrived at the great central reception court, where

we were escorted to a small pavilion designated
as the Reception Hall for Europeans.
In this building, in a ground-floor room, which is
entirely open on the side towards the court, we
found European furniture and a great collection
of clocks and photographs, a few paintings and
various bric-a-brac, and Chinese flower-pots.
Among the clocks there was one with no visible
connection between the works and hands, and
among the photographs there was one of the late
King and Queen of Siam with a few of their
children. There was also a triplicate picture of the
Queen of Holland and her father and mother so
printed, on the edges and faces of narrow slides,
that from each of three separate view-points (di
rectly in front and to either side) a different likeness
is seen. We noticed, too, several pictures of those
of his sisters and race-horses in which the Sultan
has been most interested, and a few poor paint
ings of the Sultan and members of his family. The
oft-recurring initials "H. B. VII," in the decora
tion of the room are the initials of the present
incumbent of the throne, Hamangkoe Boewono
VII, in title "Ruler of the World" and "Spike of
the Universe."
Beyond the reception hall, to the right, are
cages of live birds and glass cages containing a
variety of stuffed birds of paradise. One of the
live birds at the time of my visit was a perfect
234 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

beauty—with a bright yellow head, green throat,

brown back, and a tail of yellow shading to white,
with two long, curved feathers stretching far out
behind. There were also several peacocks and
a number of tame guinea fowl. Near the cages
is some woodwork, carved and painted with rep
resentations of birds, grotesque dragon heads, and
fights of bulls and tigers.
In the centre of this main court is a marble-
floored dancing pavilion, decorated heavily in red
and gilt and furnished with a few card tables and
European chairs. Crystal chandeliers hang from
the ceilings. To the right is the Audience Hall
or Throne Room, a large, low apartment, quite
open to the court and containing a not particularly
ornate Persian throne and countless foreign-style
chairs. Just beyond this an archway and marble
screen mark the entrance to the quarters of the
women and children, and farther off, at the rear
end of the court, is the great, bare, State Dining
Hall. Returning in the direction of the entrance,
we found the store-houses for the musical instru
ments, and others where the dresses of the court
dancers are kept. In a stall, close by, we were
shown the favourite steed of the Sultan, a re
markably handsome Sandalwood pony, a spirited
stallion with a silky, coal-black coat, fine, full
mane and tail, and a truly Arab curve to his head
and neck. We were assured that the Sultan
frequently rode this beautiful animal, but, as His
 DJOKJAKARTA 235

Majesty is over seventy years old, it is difficult

to believe it.
In various shady corners of the court, crouching
close to the ground in the grovelling position of
the dodok or a more easy sitting position, their
long, bayoneted muskets resting against con
venient trees or walls, were the shiftless- looking
sentinels of the Sultan's bodyguard. We were for
tunate enough to see the guard relieved, and a
more amusing military scene it would be difficult
to imagine. With a leisurely, dignified step the
new guard marched in from a rear entrance, headed
by an officer armed with a huge scimitar, its
ferocious, curved blade unsheathed. The pri
vate soldiers wore brimless hats and blue uni
forms, and were armed, some with long pikes or
lances, others with the ancient muskets with long
barrels and longer bayonets. On ceremonial
occasions these men wear costumes such as we
are used to see on the comic-opera stage, and a
drum and fife corps provides marching music.
We were fortunate enough on the morning of
our visit to witness a dancing lesson in which
many of the princesses and ladies of the court
took part. As the appointed time drew near, a
number of small children, attended by payong
bearers and other attendants, issued from the gate
of the harem, and settled themselves about the
edges of the dancing platform. A few minutes
later the members of the " gamelang," or orchestra,
236 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

straggled in with their instruments and arranged

themselves on the ground at one side. The
Javanese orchestra includes,—besides the gamelang
proper, which is a sort of xylophone,—kettle-drums,
gongs, cymbals, bells, a two-stringed fiddle, and
several other unfamiliar producers of melody.
Its music is much more agreeable to occidental
ears than most of the typical music of the Far East,
and there is a certain quality of sweetness about
it that comes as a surprise and delight. With
the performers of the gamelang came an old
woman with a book of music, and two or three
younger assistants, whose purpose, as we soon
discovered, was to sing or intone in hoarse, rasping
voices, which quite spoiled the instrumental
music, for us at least.
While we were awaiting the arrival of the
dancers, our guide suddenly whispered in awed
and reverential tones "Tuan Sultan" and pointed
to a dignified old gentleman in native dress who was
crossing the farther corner of the court. The
Sultan of Djokjakarta is a fine-looking man, tall
for a Javanese, and with a pleasant but weak face.
He is said to be a wise ruler (which probably
means that he makes no attempt to interfere with
the rule of the Dutch Resident), and to be beloved
by his family and all others with whom he is
brought in contact. His one great vice is cock-
fighting, and he is said to have always on hand
and ready for the main at least a hundred birds,
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each attended by a trainer who is held responsi

ble for the perfect condition of his charge. A
sort of quail is the bird used in Java for this cruel
sport.
At last the royal and noble dancers put in
an appearance, in charge of several elderly but
sprightly teachers. Some of them were mere
children, giggling and tittering among themselves
at the sight of the strange-looking foreigners and
dancing energetically whenever they saw their
teachers' eyes turning in their direction. Other,
older girls and young women preserved a solemn
decorum and serious mien throughout, giving
every appearance of being quite wrapped up in
their work. Nearly all were very slender, ac
cording to our western notions, and rather in
clined to angularity, the result, in part at least,
of costume and training. The costume itself dif
fered slightly, if at all, from that in general use
among the native women of the higher class, but
was supplemented by a long, diaphanous scarf,
which was wrapped about the shoulders or arms
or stretched between the hands, in the various
poses and postures of the dance. Javanese like
nearly all Asiatic dancing is not so much a mat
ter of rhythmic motion of the limbs as it is an at
tempt by postures and movements of every part
of the body to express some phase of natural life
or to act out the emotional side of a love tale or
tragedy. The adept dancer of the East attains
238 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

by long-continued practice a complete control

over all the muscles, and is capable of feats of
suppleness rarely seen in western lands. Those
who have not had the opportunity of seeing ori
ental dancing in the Orient can get an excellent
idea of it by going to see Ruth St. Denis, who
has succeeded in mastering the wonderful muscle-
rippling and other typical features of the dances of
tropical Asia and Africa.
Strangers are not allowed to investigate the more
remote parts of the kraton (which, by the by, is
an enclosure with walls four miles in length) and,
after seeing the sights of the central court, we
returned to the entrance, stopping for a moment
in one of the outer courts to look at the native
school for the sons of the princes and high digni
taries. The boys crouched in the usual oriental
way on the floor behind their forms, doing their
studying aloud. The young Javanese are said
to be far brighter than the Dutch boys and far
more readily acquisitive of knowledge till they reach
the age of fifteen or sixteen, when they seem sud
denly to strike some obstacle which seriously
impedes the rapidity of their previous progress
and enables their European rivals to catch up and
pass them without effort.
Djokjakarta is probably the best city of Java
in which to study the native forms of amusement,
for there is no other town so large and at the same
time so free from the taint of outside influence.
 DJOKJAKARTA 239

The most typical exponents of the dramatic and

terpsichorean in Javanese life are the "topeng, "
the " wayang, " and the dancing girls. The game-
lang is a necessary adjunct of each of these. The
topeng is the nearest approach to our theatre, and
in it actors in grotesque masks act out in silence
the tale or drama recited or read aloud by the
"dalan, " a man who confines his efforts to this
alone. The masks used are peculiar in having the
noses invariably long and pointed. From the col
our of his mask the onlookers can judge at a glance
whether an actor is representing an angel, demon,
prince, or common mortal. The wearing of the mask
is a mere subterfuge employed for the purpose of
avoiding the appearance of infringing the Ma
hometan prohibition which applies to the represen
tation of the features of man, whether on canvas or
photographic plate, in stone or wood carving, by
actors on the stage, or in any other form.
The wayang is a miniature of the topeng, differ
ing from it in that the real actors are replaced
by jointed figures whose silhouettes are thrown
on a screen. The dancing girls are of two
kinds, —one being devoted solely to dancing, the
other, like the geisha of Japan, a general enter
tainer as well. Gambling is a native vice which
exhibits itself in many diverse forms—the bird
fighting which I have already mentioned, card
playing, dice throwing, and other less usual means
to the same end, the possible gain of money
240 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

without work. By reason of his Mahometanism

the Javanese is not addicted to drink and the
lower classes accordingly appear to advantage as
compared with those of the Christian nations.
 CHAPTER XIII

GAROET AND THE PREANGERS. A VISIT TO THE

CRATER OF PAPANDAJAN

AT Djokjakarta one is roughly somewhat over a

third of the way overland across Java from
Soerabaya to Batavia. The next step generally
takes one rather more than another third of the
total distance, for the average traveller finds
nothing to detain him between Djokja and the
mountains of the Preanger Regencies, and hurries
by express train through the low, unhealthy lands
to the south-west of the capital, to make his first
stop at Garoet (Garout), in the centre of a region
famous for natural beauty and volcanic scenery.
We took the "Java express," the same train on
which we travelled between Soerabaya and Soera-
karta, and leaving Djokja shortly before noon,
arrived at Garoet in time for dinner at half-past
seven.
For the first few hours the journey was through a
country of sugar plantations and paddy fields, to
bacco estates, cocoanut groves, and the usual
kampongs. While we were at lunch in the res-
16 241
242 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

taurant car we passed through the first tunnel that

we had seen in our wanderings in the Insulinde.
Between two and three hours after leaving Djokja,
the train drew up at Maos, one of the most dan
gerous fever localities in Java, but, till quite re
cently, a necessary all-night stop for the through
traveller in either direction.
Maos is the junction for a branch line which
runs a dozen miles south to Tjilatjap, an even
more pestilential town on the Indian Ocean, where
the repeated ravages of a malarial fever, named
after it the "Tjilatjap fever," made it necessary
for the authorities to withdraw the Dutch garrison
which was for some time stationed there. All
this region is low and flat, and abounding in marsh,
swamp, and jungle. When the railroad was built
it was impossible to obtain free labour in sufficient
quantity and convicts were employed to a con
siderable extent.
Soon after leaving Maos the tracks turn in
from the coast and lead to higher, healthier
country. At Bandjar, at half-past three, we were
already in the wilder, more picturesque region of
the Preangers. A half-hour later, at Tjiamis,
where pineapples were very evidently the principal
product of the district, the air had become per
ceptibly cooler and fresher, and high mountains
were in sight to the right. At Tissakmalaya the
whole surrounding plain was under cultivation,
and there was a general air of prosperity about the
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 THE PREANGERS 243

people and their dwellings, which made it easy for

us to believe that this is the most valuable agricul
tural land in the Regencies. This plain has, nev
ertheless, had its misfortunes. In 1822 it was
laid waste by an eruption of the volcano Galoeng-
goeng, and in 1894 still further damage resulted
from another eruption of the same mountain.
Between Tissakmalaya and Tjibatoe—a dis
tance of about thirty-five miles, covered by the
express in about an hour and a half—is some of
the finest railway scenery in Java, scenery such
as one rarely sees from a car window in any part
of the tropics. The train climbs higher and
higher, rounding sharp curves, crawling over em
bankments, viaducts, and several fine bridges,
looking down upon rocky ravines, rushing streams,
and forests of deepest green. To the north there
are glimpses of flat cone-tops rising above the
low-lying clouds. Everything in the landscape
is beautiful, strange, and typical of this wonder
land of beauty.
At Tjibatoe, shortly after six o'clock, we changed
trains. The first-class cars on the branch line
were smaller but comfortable, with centre tables
and arm-chairs. It was a short ride from Tjibatoe
through the fertile plain of Leles to our destina
tion, Garoet, where we were met at the station
by the mandoer of our hotel, the Villa Dolce, and
taken at once to quarters in one of the pavilions
of this comfortable hostelry, from the verandah
244 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

of which we could look down a long avenue of

graceful rain-trees to the road and see beyond,
rising high above the house and tree-tops, the
great, bare mass of the "Thunder Mountain,"
Goenoeng Goentoer, 7400 feet high.
Garoet, although the seat of one of the native
regents, is a comparatively uninteresting village
in itself, but its situation in the very centre of a
family group of volcanoes gives it pre-eminence
for its wonderful surroundings and its variety of
excursions of peculiar charm. Garoet is 2300 feet
above the sea, and nearly encircled by volcanoes,
of which there are fourteen, each over 6000 feet
high, within a few hours' ride or drive. Its eleva
tion, cleanliness, and excellent hotels, in addition
to its volcanoes, have made Garoet a favourite
health resort as well as a favourite headquarters
for excursions and starting point for hunting
trips. To the south, the big-game hunter finds
panther, wild boar, rhinoceros, the dangerous
"banteng" or wild cattle, deer, and even tiger,
though this last animal is found in greater numbers
and is more easily hunted in the vicinity of Smeroe,
the great volcano of the Tenggers.
The present Czar of Russia visited Garoet when
he was still Crown Prince and is said to have
exclaimed upon his reluctant departure, "See
Garoet and then die." Remembering this, the
new arrival is apt to feel somewhat disappointed.
Before coming to a conclusion, however, he should
 THE PREANGERS 245

wait till he has been on some of the drives and

rides about Garoet, watched for a time the chang
ing aspects of the neighbouring volcanoes, seen
the farms and habitations of the native Soen-
danese, and visited the hot-baths, the lakes, and
the craters—till, in fact, he has become acquainted
with a few of the natural wonders that are to be
found on every hand.
In a sado we drove in three quarters of an
hour over a level and smooth but poorly shaded
road to the Sitoe Bagendit, a small lake or tarn
which derives its name from its form, more or less
fancifully thought to resemble that of the hilt of
a kris. In the sawahs by the roadside a new
variety of scarecrow was very much in evidence,
a tall stalk of bamboo, bearing a noisily revolving
pin-wheel on its top.
The natives, as we saw them on their way to
market, differed but slightly from the other inhabi
tants of Java, but their country carts had quite
a novel appearance. These vehicles are, as else
where, of the two-wheeled variety and drawn by
ponies; their bodies are constructed like large,
square boxes, open in front, with a projecting
vizor to protect the driver from the sun, and a
grated opening in the back. The most conspicu
ous feature is the colouring, generally a pink or
light blue. The prosperity of the region is re
flected, not only in the newness and neatness of
these carts, but also in the numbers of cows, goats,
246 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

and even sheep, being driven to market or to

pasture.
The houses of this district, too, testify to the
thrift and well-being of the people. Many of
them are quite elaborate, with tiled roofs, balus-
traded verandahs, split-bamboo screens, and
Venetian blinds. The true Soendanese dwellings
are easily distinguishable by their high gables
and several layers of roof, and by the continuation
of the front cross-posts several feet beyond their
intersection. At the native forges in the villages
we noticed a peculiar form of bellows in use. In
a room adjacent to that of the forge, and connected
with the fire by long pipes, were upright wooden
cylinders, in and out of which huge pistons were
pushed and pulled by man power—a primitive
and at the same time curiously complicated con
trivance.
In the main street of the small lakeside village
where we were obliged to wait for a few minutes
during the making ready for use of the craft on
which we were to navigate the waters of the lake, a
group of children helped to beguile away the time
with the melodious sounds of their "anklongs,"—
musical instruments consisting of rows of flexible
bamboo reeds secured at the lower ends to a
wooden base. These reeds when moved from
side to side give forth a music that is, despite its
strangeness, quite agreeable to the ear.
When we repaired to the boat-landing we found
 THE PREANGERS 247

a sort of floating summer-house awaiting us.

This water conveyance was probably specially
designed for the use of visitors, but it may well
be that the idea came originally from the pleasure-
boat of some native of high degree of a past
century. It is decidedly primitive. Two dug
outs are placed parallel to one another at a dis
tance of about five or six feet, and on them rest
the ends of a platform or flooring, over which
rises a roof supported by four corner posts. In
this rather shaky pavilion we were seated on
European chairs, while our crew of four men or
boys squatted in the projecting bows and sterns
of the dugouts and paddled us along. A third
dugout, brought up on the windward side, served
the double purpose of breaking the force of the
waves and ripples before they could reach and
swamp our top-heavy houseboat, and of pushing
us about whenever a change of direction became
necessary, just as the tugboats assist the great
ocean liners to the docks at home.
The voyage in this craft was of short duration
and for the most part through shallow, green
water, but the momentary expectation of being
precipitated headlong into even shallow water
made the quarter hour a long one. Now and
again the weedy grass of the bottom stopped us
suddenly and threatened disaster, and occasionally
the carelessness of the small boy in command of
our moving breakwater allowed a wave to get
248 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

by and our chairs teetered ominously from leg

to leg. By luck quite as much as good manage
ment we finally arrived safely at our goal, a hilly
promontory with a little pier or landing, from
which a steep flight of steps led to a covered
shelter at the summit.
The view from the top well compensates for
the hot climb, for, spread out before one, is a
splendid panorama of volcanoes. There are, in
all, eleven of these fire mountains:—Goenoeng
Goentoer (7400 feet), Goenoeng Haroeman, and
the Tangkoeban Prahoe to the west, the Galoeng-
goeng (7200 feet) and Seda-kling to the east, the
Kratjak, Tjikorai (9200 feet), and Papandajan
(8700 feet) to the south, beside others less promi
nent and lofty. The scene is wonderfully impres
sive, and the smoke rising from two or three of
the great cones brings one to a realization of the
fact that these monsters are alike the creators
and destroyers of the fertile lands about them,
responsible alike for the extraordinary richness of
the soil and for those upheavals which from time
to time, without warning, ruin the crops and turn
these beautiful valleys into scenes of misery and
desolation.
Returning to Garoet from the Sitoe Bagendit
we made a detour to the right at the village of
Trogong (two miles from Garoet) in order to visit
the hot springs at Tjipanas. At one point along
the way there is a colony of "kalongs" or flying
 THE PREANGERS 249

foxes. These hideous creatures are fond of hanging

head down from the branches of the cocoanut palm
trees, and might easily be taken at first glance for
some strange fruit. They are said to live, as do
ants, bees, and other smaller animals, under a well
regulated social organization, but for this I am
not willing to vouch. Their food is wholly fruit,
and they themselves are used as food by the
natives.
Not far past the grove of the flying foxes we
came upon a succession of terraced fishponds, the
water of which is supplied by hot springs just
beyond. The fish seemed remarkably lively con
sidering the warm medium in which they pass their
lives. There are five hot springs at Tjipanas, all
issuing from the ground at the foot of the Goentoer
or Thunder Mountain, a volcano of violent ac
tivity till about sixty years ago. The bathing
establishment comprises separate tanks and dress
ing rooms for Europeans, Chinese, and natives.
The waters are said to be very efficacious in
affections of a rheumatic nature.
The whole landscape in this vicinity has a pecu
liar look of artificiality which extends even to the
large pond with its surrounding fringe of enormous
banana trees. The valley is cut into thousands of
rice-fields, the roads have all their bordering lines
of trees, and on all sides one is reminded of the
toy landscapes of childhood days till brought
back to a proper sense of proportion by the great
250 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Thunder Mountain and the other neighbouring

volcanoes. Goenoeng Goentoer may be ascended
by a somewhat difficult trail which starts just
back of the hot springs. It is the barest and most
sinister in appearance of all the fire mountains
about Garoet, and forms an extraordinary contrast
with the fertile valley at its foot.
The excursion which best repaid us at Garoet
was the one to the crater of Papandajan, the
"Forge." The first part of the way one travels
by native cart, and steamer rugs prove useful, for
the start must be made soon after dawn and
the air of the early morning is cool and fresh.
It is a drive of about eleven miles nearly due
south to the village of Tjisoeroepan, some 4000
feet up in the hills, where the carts are left behind
and a light breakfast is taken at the Villa Paul
ine before resuming the journey on the tough,
wiry, little mountain ponies. It seems curious in
Java to take tea in preference to coffee, but one
almost invariably does so after a few preliminary
experiments, for the bitter essence of coffee that
is usually offered is far from satisfactory.
Hardly had the confines of the village been
passed after our start from the Villa Pauline be
fore we found ourselves mounting a steep trail
between tea and coffee plantations. As tea and
coffee planting are two of the most important
industries, not only of this Preanger country, but
of all Java, let me give a few facts concerning
 Photo by the Author
THE ENTRANCE TO ROYAL TOMBS, PASARGEDE
 THE PREANGERS 251

them. The Preangers produce a greater bulk

of tea leaves than all the rest of the island. The
plants generally used are of the Assam variety
or hybrids of the Assam and Chinese,—larger than
the pure Chinese. A locality of some elevation
and of rich soil having been selected, the matured
seed is sown. As the young bushes grow up con
siderable care has to be taken to air the roots
by means of trenches, to remove weeds, and to
smoke the shrubs from time to time. It is not
till the third or fourth year that a crop can be
gathered, but thereafter each succeeding crop is
better than the last, and the bushes continue to
produce for many years, if properly pruned and
otherwise cared for. The colour of the commercial
leaf, green or black, is indicative merely of the
treatment of the leaf after picking, a black colour
resulting from the fermentation and subsequent
oxidization, while a green is obtained by an im
mediate "firing" or drying of the freshly gathered
leaves by contact with surfaces of hot iron. Tea
was, till comparatively recent years, one of the
government monopolies, and free planting only
dates from 1865. Java to-day produces annually
over twenty-eight million pounds of tea. India
leads with nearly two hundred and fifty million
pounds, and China, Ceylon, Japan, and Java follow
in the order given.
Coffee is an even more important product of
Java than tea. Like the latter it is not indigenous.
 252 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

It was first brought to the island by the Euro

peans. There are, roughly, about two hundred
and fifty million coffee-trees in Java, and the
crops of the island furnish a fifth of the entire
world supply. Similarly to the tea plant, the
coffee-tree produces the best results when grown
at an altitude of a couple of thousand feet. For
coffee planting the ground is thoroughly broken
in the early spring, and at the same time the beans
or seeds are sown in beds or nurseries, from which
the young trees or shrubs are transplanted towards
the end of the year to carefully fertilized pits in the
prepared ground, where they are grown under the
shade of the " dadap " or other appropriate tree.
After four or five years the first crop is gathered,
and a fresh crop is taken every year thereafter
for many years. The life of a coffee-tree is about
that of a man, but its best crops are had from the
twelfth to the fifteenth years. The flower appears
at the opening of the rainy season and the crop
is not ready for harvesting till the following April
or May, when the berries are ripe and their husks
a bright red. In the preparation of the commer
cial product the outer husks are removed by
machinery, the berries washed and dried, then the
inner skins taken off, and finally the berries, as
we see them, sacked for shipment. The Liberian
tree is to-day almost universally used, and the
government supplies seed to the natives and is
doing all it can to encourage planting. The old

, fc.
 THE PREANGERS 253

system which brought such wealth to the Dutch

during the first half of the last century, the system
of enforced cultivation, has not yet been wholly
abolished in the case of coffee planting in Java, but
the free crops are far in excess of those of the
government, and the number of trees is in about
the proportion of three to one. The annual
output is subject to violent fluctuations and
the successful cultivation is greatly hampered by
various pests, moulds, and insects, which have
been known to lay waste whole plantations at a
time.
From Tjisoeroepan to the Papandajan crater,
it is a ride of over two hours and an ascent of about
2500 feet, for the most part through the typical
tropical forest, where every moment brings some
new thrill of pleasure. Magnificent trees, giants
of the jungle, graceful ferns and brakes, brilliant
flowers, snake-like creepers, and wonderful or
chids combine in adding to one's enjoyment and
actual bewilderment. No description, no sketch
nor photograph can adequately picture the
mysterious fascinations of the jungle. There is
an atmosphere, a dreamy, indescribable some
thing in these dense forests which has a peculiarly
intoxicating effect on the senses and makes one
feel like a happy child, even when the chills are
running down one's back and common sense
warns one that malaria and fever are in the very
air. The beauty of the scene, the marvellous
254 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

exuberance of nature absolutely carry one away

for the time being.
We finally emerged from the forest on a stretch
of open trail, passed a series of sulphur terraces,
over which trickled streams of appreciably warm
water, continued for a short distance over yellow
and brown rubble, lava beds, and bare rock,
and finally dismounted at a break in the crater wall
to ascend on foot the rough, steep path which
leads to a wooden shelter on the edge of the main
crater basin, 8460 feet above sea-level. The
complete breakdown of the crater wall on this side
is due to the terrific eruption of 1772, which was
also responsible for the destruction of forty villages
and the loss of nearly three thousand lives. It is
said that on that occasion ashes and other matter
from the crater were blown over the neighbouring
country to a depth of four or five feet.
Climbing over the path of broken rock to the
shelter, we were soon in a position to view the
entire crater basin, an irregular valley or floor,
crossed by a turbulent mountain torrent, the
Tjiparoegpoeg, which rushes from the high wall
opposite and escapes through the break by which
we entered. This basin is at least two miles in
circumference and is dominated on all sides, save
that of the break, by walls, partly wooded and
partly bare, which rise to a height of from six to
nine hundred feet. The crater floor is quite bare,
and well-defined paths and one or two rather
 THE PREANGERS 255

dilapidated bridges make it possible to examine

closely the many curious phenomena of this un
canny place. From one point ascends a dense
cloud of smoke, and from many others come
slender columns of vapour or little intermittent
puffs. As compared with the Bromo crater, the
noise is almost unappreciable, and, if one but
keeps on the windward side of the principal
volumes of smoke, very little discomfort is experi
enced from the fumes of the sulphur.
Here we were able to investigate at close range
a variety of strange manifestations of volcanic
activity,—to poke our sticks in bubbling pools
of seething grey mud and boiling water in which
small stones were being continually forced to the
surface, to divert ourselves by throwing sticks or
stones into the vent holes of sizzling little mud
volcanoes, miniature cones two or three feet high,
-which took grievous offence at the liberty and with
angry splutters quickly vomited out the object of
their aversion. Here and there gleaming masses
of yellow sulphur deposits emitted from brown-
stained cracks in their groaning sides sheets of
vapour and suffocating gas. At other points,
from narrow fissures, as from the safety valve
of a locomotive boiler, slender columns of steam
escaped to the outer air with a slight hissing sound.
Nearly everywhere the ground under our feet
had an unpleasantly hollow, springy, unreliable
feeling, and in many places there was a very con
256 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

siderable heat felt, even through thick boot soles.

We were constantly reminded of the Ojigoku or
"Great Hell" in the Hakone Mountains of Japan,
but Papandajan is on a much grander scale, and
far richer in its array of solfataras, fumaroles,
hot springs, and other natural wonders. The
1772 eruption still stands on the records as the
last, but there is no good reason for supposing
that the mountain has quieted for ever, and it is
highly probable that some day the terrible forces
within will again burst forth and overwhelm the
valley and its inhabitants.
On our way back, we met in the depths of the
forest a French traveller, making the ascent in an
arm-chair placed on a covered platform attached
to long bamboo poles borne on the shoulders of
coolies in relays of four. This was formerly the
usual method of mountain travel adopted by
foreigners, but is slower and, I should think, far
less agreeable than pony riding, even though the
temper of these little beasts is almost invariably
bad and they seize every opportunity to bite and
kick their riders.
There is one other excursion taken by all able-
bodied visitors to Garoet, besides the trip to the
Papandajan crater,—that to the Telega Bodas
or "White Lake" and the Padjagalan, the
"Slaughter-Place," or "Valley of the Dead" as
it has been more euphemistically translated. As
in going to the Papandajan crater, one must
 THE PREANGERS 257

take a preliminary drive by sado or car for about

an hour to the village where the real trail begins
and the transfer is made to pony-back. It is a
matter of some nine miles farther to the lake,
but the sights along the way are so varied and the
views so fine that the time goes quickly by. For
the first mile or two the trail passes through villages
of Soendanese houses with quaint gables and ridge
poles drooping crescent-like between the ends,
past rice-fields, coffee plantations, tobacco planta
tions, and acres devoted to the cultivation of
cinchona, tapioca, and the ubiquitous banana.
Beyond are pasture lands, groves of bamboos, and
forest. At a point about half-way, where the
ponies were rested and we took a picnic breakfast,
there was a splendid view of the valley far below
and its background of great mountains, and the
sound of the wooden bells on the necks of the
cattle reminded us of Switzerland. For the last
hour we were in the virgin forest, the beauties of
which were partly lost as our ponies slipped and
slid in the slime of the trail, threatening at every
moment to land us sprawling in the mud. No
one is competent to form a judgment of the possi
bilities of moisture and dampness till he has
travelled through a tropical forest in the rainy
season, when everything is absolutely saturated and
dripping.
The lake itself was somewhat of a disappoint
ment. A deposit of alum and sulphur on the
17
 258 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

bottom gives its water, in certain lights, some

resemblance to milk, but the usual colour is a
greenish white, not unlike that of the mud springs
of volcanic craters. This body of water is very
evidently a crater lake. It is nearly circular, about
half a mile in diameter, and over 5500 feet above
the sea. On its shores are hot springs and sol-
fataras, but walking is difficult, owing to the
marshes and mud-holes, and there is nothing new
to be seen. On the opposite side the lake is shut
in by the crater walls, high, steep, and densely
overgrown. This peaceful basin was, in 1822, the
scene of terrible activity, and its eruption is said
to have destroyed hundreds of villages and brought
death to thousands of natives. The debris thrown
out at that time has long since been covered with
vegetation and is hardly recognizable in the green
or wooded hillocks which abound in the valleys
near by.
Six or seven hundred feet below the lake to the
north-west is the rocky, barren valley known as
the Padjagalan or "Slaughter-Place." From the
ground exudes a varying amount of carbonic acid
gas, sometimes enough to kill birds and small
quadrupeds, and always sufficient to prevent the
growth of vegetable life. There is something
gruesome in the absence of life here where nature
on every side is so prolific, and one feels a relief
on getting back to the forests, wet and gloomy
though they are. Our return trip to Garoet proved

k
 THE PREANGERS 259

even slower than that to the lake, for the ponies

found going down-hill in the slippery mud an
irksome and dangerous task and accomplished
the feat with great care and deliberation. Only
our very early start permitted our return in time
for rijstafel.
There are other excursions to be made in the
vicinity of Garoet, but the traveller who has seen
the Papandajan, the Telega Bodas, and the
Sitoe Bagendit has seen the best, and in such a
wonderland as Java one can hope to do little more
than see a few of the best out of the hundreds of
places worth visiting.
 CHAPTER XIV

IN THE WESTERN PREANGERS—SINDANGLAYA

AND ITS SURROUNDINGS

RETURNING over the branch line to Tjibatoe

junction and continuing westward on the
main line, we were at Bandoeng, the capital of the
Preangers, in a little over two hours from Garoet.
The scenery along the line is exceptionally fine,
especially in the vicinity of the Nagrek Pass.
The railway engineers of this section of the line
were confronted with almost insuperable natural
obstacles, but ultimately triumphed over them
all in miles of almost continuous rock cuttings,
tunnels, curves, viaducts, and bridges. Between
Nagrek and Tjitjalengka the tracks drop nearly
six hundred feet in less than three miles.
Bandoeng is only four and a half hours from
Batavia by express train, but westward-bound
passengers from Soerabaya are still obliged to
break their journey there for a night. The town
belies its rapidly growing population of 50,000
and in appearance is a quiet, garden city of homes.
Its elevation of 2300 feet and a good reputation for
260
 THE WESTERN PREANGERS 261

climate and sanitation, added to its low rents and

low rate of living, have made it a favourite place
of residence for retired Dutch officers and officials
of modest means. It has the usual aloun-aloun,
mosque, residency, club, and other features of the
Javanese city, and a pretty river as well, but there
is nothing in particular to detain the visitor, unless
it be the quinine manufactory or the volcano.
The manufacture of quinine is one of the most
important business interests of the city, and the
company engaged in the industry seems likely
to succeed in its desired end,—to corner the manu
facture of the Javanese bark and to build up a
world market for its product. The cinchona-tree,
from which the bark is obtained, was first intro
duced from South America in 1854, and is now
widely grown throughout the Preanger Regencies,
both by the government and by individual
planters. The variety called calisaya is the most
popular. Its cultivation resembles that of the
coffee-tree. After six or seven years the tree
is sufficiently matured for the removal of its
bark, and this bark, after being carefully dried,
sorted, and baled, is sent to the Bandoeng man
ufactory and there employed in the preparation of
sulphates and other salts.
There is one excursion from Bandoeng which is
really worth while,—that to the craters of the
Tangkoeban Prahoe (6500 feet), a mountain
which derives its name from a supposed resem
262 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

blance to an overturned boat. This trip en

tails a drive of a dozen miles to the village of
Lembang and a climb on pony-back of some six
miles more. One finally reaches a point overlook
ing the rather remarkable twin craters. These
craters, in the rainy season at least, are partially
filled with water. An eruption occurred in 1896,
after a period of quiet extending over fifty years;
another in 1910. From the crater rim there is a
splendid view, including, to the north, the Java Sea.
In the little village of Lembang may be seen the
grave and the memorial obelisk of Junghuhn, the
celebrated naturalist, who spent the greater part
of his life in the study of the natural wonders of
Java.
About twenty minutes to the west of Bandoeng
the express train stops at Padalarang, the junction
station for the new line by which Weltevreden
may be reached (by way of Krawang) in less
than four hours from Bandoeng. It is preferable,
however, to stick to the old way, which, though
longer, offers greater attractions. Doing so, one
is soon in the mountains again, crawling along
the shoulder of the Goenoeng Misigit or Mosque
Mountain, a mass vaguely suggestive, to those
gifted with strong imaginations, of the form of a
mosque. The descent to the plain of Tjiandjoer
is steep, and viaducts and sharp curves are fre
quent. The country is wild for the most part,
and forests and ravines constitute the principal
a
a,
H
 THE WESTERN PREANGERS 263

features of the scenery. At a point passed

shortly before the train pulls up at Tjiandjoer,
about an hour and a half after passing the junc
tion, the level of the plain is broken by innumer
able mounds or small hills, some of them as much
as seventy or eighty feet high. The tops of many
of these have been pre-empted as building sites,
and others are occupied by little cemeteries. It is
said that they were formed by lava streams from
the volcano of Gedeh, but it seems hardly possible
that this is so.
Tjiandjoer is the station for Sindanglaya, and
there we left the train for a steep, uphill drive
of two hours and a half (nine miles) to the
famous mountain resort and sanitarium, the
mandoer of the Sindanglaya hotel meeting us at
the station with a three-pony sado for our baggage
as well as one for ourselves. Tjiandjoer, form
erly the capital of the Preangers, lies in a plain or
valley 1882 feet above the sea: Sindanglaya, in a
charming, rolling, hill country, about 1600 feet
higher up. The road connecting the two places
is broad and remarkably straight, but the grades
are very hard on the ponies and on the human
burden carriers, who struggle up the endless hill
with evident discomfort. The sados or cars of
this district have a peculiar contrivance by means
of which the body of the vehicle may be moved
forward or back on the axle, according as the
grade is to be up or down hill, thereby lessening
264 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS .

to some extent the labour of the long-suffering

ponies. It is not surprising to find such a road
lined with inns for the refreshment of man and
beast. These inns have immense roofs which
cover, not only the house proper, but also a sort
of recessed court, affording ample shelter from
the scorching rays of the sun and the drenching
downpours of the tropical showers. We noticed
a new type of roof on some of the native dwellings,
the supporting ridge-pole being horizontal in the
middle and sloping down at each end for a dis
tance of several feet. Nearly all the houses have
front steps leading to raised and balustraded
verandahs.
The Sindanglaya hotel, which is entirely of wood
and in many features of its architecture calls
to mind the chalet constructions of Switzerland,
occupies the site of an earlier building destroyed
in 1879 by disturbances of the earth which accom
panied a severe eruption of the volcano, Gedeh. It
has outside stairways, deep piazzas, reading rooms,
a billiard room, and a bowling alley. The bed
rooms have real windows with glass panes, and
some of the upper ones are lighted by skylights in
addition.
Sindanglaya is in the Preangers, but quite close
to the boundary line of the Batavia Residency,—
in fact, from the Poentjak Pass, about seven miles
distant, one may look far into the neighbouring
province and almost see Buitenzorg. The road
 THE WESTERN PREANGERS 265

which leads over this pass is justly celebrated, not

for the cleverness of the engineers responsible for
its laying out, but for the manner in which it goes
over rather than around all obstacles, sacrificing
comfort in every instance to an attempt to follow
as nearly as possible the straight line. It was
built in 1 8 10 under the stern hand of Daendals,
the Iron Marshal, and its construction was effected
at the cost of thousands of lives, for the natives,
forced to abandon their crops and give their labour
to the prosecution of this prodigious piece of work,
succumbed in great numbers to the famine which
followed as a natural consequence.
Our first notion of the difficulties of the Poentjak
Pass road came with the arrival of the cart in
which the steep ascent was to be made. Not only
were there three ponies hitched abreast to this
vehicle, but a fourth or cockhorse stood alongside
ready for use when necessary. Almost immedi
ately after leaving the hamlet in front of the hotel
the climbing began, and before long we were
glad to be able to avail ourselves of the services of
our additional horse power, for the grade was the
steepest that one could easily imagine in a road
for wheeled vehicles. This road is the highway to
the markets of the valley beyond, and up this
terrible ascent toils a never-ending procession of
peasants and day labourers, their sweating backs
bent low under bamboo carriers supporting at the
ends heavy loads of local produce. Huge quanti
266 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

ties of onions and potatoes are thus transported to

the lowland markets, but at the expense, one
would imagine, of many lives, for the heart strain
of climbing so steep a road, at such an elevation,
under so hot a sun, and with loads so heavy, must
be enormous.
At the summit of the pass, 4950 feet above the
sea, and only nineteen miles by road from Buiten-
zorg, there is a little wayside inn or lodge, where
the ponies are given a chance to rest in a sheltered
spot, while a visit is made to the Telega Warna or
"Colour-changing Lake," a picturesque mountain
tarn nestling close to the hillside on the far side of
the ridge. We walked a short distance beyond the
summit of the pass with the magnificent pano
rama of the country towards Buitenzorg spread
like a map below us, then turned off to the right
and followed a path leading through an unattrac
tive area of half-burned timber land to the fringe
of thick woods which surrounds the charming little
pond. The Telega Warna is nearly circular and
about three hundred feet in diameter. It takes
its name from the various tints assumed by its
waters in different lights and at different seasons.
For some reason that I have not been able to find
out, tradition has given the lake a certain sanctity,
and childless women go there in great numbers to
pray for offspring.
The return drive to the hotel was far too full of
thrills to be enjoyable. If the road seemed steep
 THE WESTERN PREANGERS 267

on the way up, it certainly seemed doubly so on

the way down, and there were places where nearly
everyone would prefer to trust to his feet. The
view of the country below is extended, and on a
clear day the mountains near Bandoeng may be
clearly seen. The descent took us hardly more
than a half-hour.
A few minutes' stroll down hill from the hotel we
found a pretty pond where rowboats could be
hired, and where, until quite recently, one could
be paddled about in one of the floating summer-
houses such as we used on the Sitoe Bagendit.
It was also possible at one time to hire clumsy
water-boots or foot-boats, in which one using great
care and gifted with a natural sense of balance
could walk about on the surface of the water.
Repeated accidents finally caused the abandon
ment of this novel form of water sport.
At the foot of this same hill is Tjipanas, the
country palace of the Governor-General. The
grounds of the palace are open to visitors during
the absence of officialdom, and one may enjoy the
privilege of wandering about the park-like gardens
and beside the quiet stream, breathing in the
delicious scent of the roses, and loitering in the
shade of the trees of our home-land,—oaks, chest
nuts, cypresses, and willows, as well as eucalyptus-
trees and many other varieties. In these gardens,
too, are begonias, fuchsias, dahlias, hortensias, cow
slips, maidenhair ferns, and many other familiar
268 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

and beloved members of the plant and flower

world. It is quite a treat to get this little glimpse,
as it were, of home, in far-off Java.
Continuing our walk beyond Tjipanas, through
the hamlet of Rarahan, and past the diminutive
waterfall, one reaches in less than an hour the
top of Kasoer, or "Breakfast," Hill, a small ridge
rising abruptly from the valley floor to a height of
3640 feet above sea-level. It is said that a former
governor-general was in the habit of walking to
its summit every morning and taking his breakfast
in the little summer-house on top. There is a fine
view from the pavilion, comprising a wide range
of country. To the north-east, the Java Sea is
visible ; to the south-west, the active volcano Gedeh
and its quiet fellow, Pangerango (9800 feet); to
the south, the Poentjak Pass, and nearer and
lower, the Sindanglaya hotel; to the north-west and
west, a rough chain of bare mountains, screening
in a nearer valley of rice-fields.
Among the longer excursions from Sindanglaya
that on horseback to the three waterfalls" is the
most interesting to the average traveller, and has
the merit of being easily accomplished in a short
half-day. Descending the hill from the hotel, we
turned sharply to the right at the palace of the
governor-general, and, after a gradual ascent
through highly cultivated land over gentle slopes,
once or twice dropping to the valley and crossing
the stream by a bridge with walls and roof such
 THE WESTERN PREANGERS 269

as one is used to associate with the White Moun

tains or the Berkshire Hills at home, reached a
fork in the trail where the left-hand branch leads
to the government experimental station or
mountain botanical gardens, situated on the side
of Gedeh over 4600 feet up. In these gardens
experiments are being made with the various
useful plants and shrubs which are ordinarily
found in the temperate zones, with a view to
introducing their cultivation in the mountain
districts of Java. The gardens are well equipped
with nurseries and laboratories, and directly back
of them lies the forest primeval, a perfect paradise
for botanists and collectors.
The trail to the right at the fork leads around
the shoulder of the mountain, through slush and
slime, and part of the way apparently in the bed
of a brook, over slippery bits of dilapidated cordu
roy road, and broken-down bridges, and through
sopping foliage and underbrush. It is by no
means level, and climbing over slippery wood and
rolling stones on a steep grade puts to a severe task
the capabilities of the sure-footed ponies. For
nearly an hour we rode through the dense woods,
occasionally walking for a time so as to be able
to take in more thoroughly the beauty of the
splendid trees, the ferns, the orchids, and other
beauties of the jungle. Finally, at a widening of
the path, beside a rustic bench and a sign marking
the trail to the "Kandang Badak," we left the
270 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

ponies in charge of one of the boys who had

followed us on foot from the hotel, and continued
for a few minutes' walk through a perfect
"Slough of Despond," fairly wallowing in mud
and slimy grass, and at last bringing up at a wild,
rocky, thickly overgrown basin, at the far end of
which, over a high wall of rock, plunged three
streams of water in three fine waterfalls of totally
different characteristics.
These falls are generally called the Falls of
Tjibeureum (red water) , after the central one of the
three, which is the largest and has a drop of some
450 feet. The Tjibodas (white water), to the
left, is considerably wider but otherwise incom
parable with the Tjibeureum. The Tjikoendoel,
to the right, is still smaller and almost concealed by
the luxuriant vegetation surrounding it on all
sides. The absolute riot of jungle in this spot can
hardly be realized. Everything seemed to be
saturated with moisture and the very rocks seemed
fertile. The greens of the verdure and the browns
of the trees were intense. We felt an impression
of a certain heaviness and oppressiveness in every
thing. The gloom, and wildness of the place
became actually unpleasant after a few minutes,
and it was a relief to get away. Near by is an
even damper spot,—a cave or grotto where scores
of malodorous flying foxes spend their hours of
rest.
Rejoining the ponies, we made the return trip
 Photo by the Author
ON AN UPPER PLATFORM, BORO BOEDOER

Photo by Carr M. Thomas

A SOENDANESE HOUSE IN THE PREANGERS
 THE WESTERN PREANGERS 271

to the hotel in an hour and a half. If the traveller

wishes to see more of the jungle, he may take the
trail to the "Kandang Badak" or "Rhinosceros
Kraal," a point on the saddle which joins Gedeh
and Pangerango, about two hours and a half
beyond the sign-board. In earlier days the Kan
dang Badak was a favourite sleeping-place of the
"rhinos," but to-day there are probably none
within several miles. Energetic mountain climb
ers spend the night in an iron shelter at the
Kandang Badak and ascend either Gedeh or
Pangerango in the early morning, the additional
climb taking about two hours. The sunrise
view is said to be marvellous, but very few are
willing to undergo the hardships which are the
necessary accompaniments of such a trip. The
active crater of Gedeh is probably the most impres
sive of all the accessible craters of Java. This
volcano, after a long period of quiet lasting from
1 76 1 to 1832, erupted violently seven times in the
next twenty years and has since then been the
scene of numerous upheavals and convulsions. In
1879 it was responsible for the destruction of Sin-
danglaya, and it is said that in, 1899, rocks
weighing upwards of three hundred pounds were
thrown from its crater to a distance of over half
a mile.
It is quite possible to go from Sindanglaya to
Buitenzorg direct, by taking a cart over the
Poentjak Pass, but in going to the Telega Warna
272 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

we had seen the best part of this route, and we

preferred to return to Tjiandjoer, pick up the train
there, and make one last stop in the Preangers, at
the little settlement of Soekaboemi ("Place of
Delights"), an hour and a half farther on by the
express. After the wonderful scenery that we had
been enjoying so lately, the views from the train
windows seemed tame, and for the first time for
many weeks books were welcome as travelling
companions. Installed in comfortable quarters
at the Victoria Hotel at Soekaboemi we spent a
day or two in absolute rest before starting on the
last stage of our journey across Java. Soeka
boemi is well suited for rest and recuperation, by
its elevation of 2000 feet, by the opportunity it
affords for pleasant drives in comfortable car
riages along agreeably shaded roads, and by its
very lack of excursions requiring the expenditure
of energy and muscle.
On leaving Soekaboemi we bade farewell to the
wonderful Preangers, rich in scenery, in volcanoes,
and in crops. I doubt if there is anywhere in the
world a greater abundance of beautiful and
impressive bits of scenery, a more numerous
collection of fire mountains, or a more liberal
variety of crops. Of these last I have, for lack
of space, given but the barest idea. Besides the
hardwood forests, the tea, coffee, sugar-cane,
and cinchona plantations, the ubiquitous rice-
fields, cocoanut- and banana-trees, the salt pools
 THE WESTERN PREANGERS 273

and tobacco plantations of the Preangers are of

great value.
There are two kinds of tobacco grown in Java:
the native, which is grown chiefly in the Preangers,
in rotation with dry-grown rice, and produces a
raw, rank leaf used only by local smokers, and a
higher grade, nearly all exported, which is raised,
principally in Central and Eastern Java, from
Manila seed. In tobacco planting the young
plants undergo a nursery period of a couple of
months, and are then replanted, shaded from the
sun by rice-straw, carefully watered, and the roots
aired from time to time. When the leaves begin
to hang down they are plucked and taken to the
drying shed to be fermented, sorted, and baled for
market. Some twelve million dollars worth of
tobacco is exported from Java annually.
From Soekaboemi we took the express to
Batavia, and ended our visit to Java with a few
final days at Weltevreden, preliminary to embark
ing for Sumatra. During over a month of travel
in this most delightful of islands, this "garden
of the East, " each day had added something to our
fund of pleasant memories and, despite the preva
lence of the rains and other petty annoyances
and discomfitures, we left Java with one general
and unanimous sentiment as a result of our experi
ences,—that nowhere on earth is there a land which
so nearly approaches one's highest ideals of tropical
beauty, and nowhere a land where such wonders
IS
274 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

are so accessible. Java is indeed a traveller's

paradise.
Sumatra, where we spent the remainder of our
time in the Insulinde, is so little known to the
average reader or traveller that, before going on
with the relation of personal experiences, I
shall devote a few pages to the geography and
history of this island.
 CHAPTER XV

THE ISLAND OF SUMATRA—DESCRIPTIVE AND

HISTORICAL

THE great island of Sumatra is over thirteen

times the size of Holland, its mother-country,
and larger than Great Britain and Ireland to
gether, nearly four times as large as Java, and the
fifth island of the whole world in area, Greenland,
New Guinea, Borneo, and Madagascar alone sur
passing it. It lies almost equally in the northern
and southern hemispheres, north-west of Java and
west and south of the Malay Peninsula, its western
and northern shores being washed by the Indian
Ocean, those to the south by the Straits of Sunda
and those to the east by the Straits of Malacca and
the Java Sea. It has a length of over iooo miles
and a maximum breadth of 230 miles. Though
quite capable of sustaining a population of sixty or
seventy millions, the present number of its inhabi
tants is estimated at only a little over three mil
lions. Of the vast area of this enormous island
a large part is still unexplored and unknown, and
although a bordering strip of coast-land, a section
275
276 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

of country at the extreme north, and the splendid

highlands back of Padang (half-way up the west
coast) are open to commerce and civilized culti
vation ; the interior plateaus, forests, and mountains
are still the home of cannibal tribes and the haunt
of elephants and tigers.
Running lengthwise through the island, and
forming a sort of irregular spine from end to end,
is the great broken range of mountains known as
the Barisons or Sumatran Alps. The summits of
some of the giants of this chain reach to an eleva
tion of ten and even twelve thousand feet, and
among the highest are found the awe-inspiring fire-
mountains or volcanoes which form such an impor
tant feature of the usual Sumatran landscape. Of
a total of nearly a hundred volcanoes, only about a
dozen are active at the present day, but on all
sides is to be seen the evidence of recent volcanic
eruption, and many of the now slumbering giants
are probably quite capable of a fresh awakening to
work of destruction.
The rivers of Sumatra are many. They are
for the most part inconsequential from the point
of commercial importance, but are valuable as
means of irrigation, and have been in past ages
the undoubted cause of the building up of the
rich lowlands of the east coast, carrying down
and depositing at their estuaries the soil wash
ed by the heavy rains from the mountains
and hillsides of the interior. The four largest
 SUMATRA: GENERALITIES 277

rivers are the Asahan, the Indragiri, the Djambi,

and the Moesi. The last of these furnishes an
admirable illustration of the extent of the alluvial
deposits of Sumatran rivers, for Palembang, now
fifty-six miles from the sea on the Moesi, was once
a coast town at the river's mouth. The lakes of
Sumatra are probably not yet all known. The great
est is the lake of Toba, a sheet of water covering
an area of nearly 800 square miles. The lake of
Singkarah and the crater-lake of Manindjau are
in the Padang highlands and better known to
Europeans.
The fertility of the soil of this immense island is
about on a par with that of Java, but in richness
of mineral deposits and the variety of animal life
Sumatra is decidedly more fortunate. Gold,
silver, iron, lead, tin, sulphur, alum, naphtha,
saltpetre, petroleum, coal, marble, and precious
stones are all found, and in sufficient bulk to swell
to tremendous proportions the budget of the
island's natural wealth. Among the larger ani
mals, tigers, rhinoceroses, elephants, panthers, and
the great constrictor snakes abound, while among
the lesser, the butterflies have a world-wide repu
tation for size and gaudy colouring. The vege
table kingdom is represented by a profusion of
trees and plants, and some of the flowers of Su
matra attain prodigious dimensions, the blossom
of the " tjindawanmatahari " being over three feet
in diameter. The climate has nothing to dis
278 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

tinguish it from that of Java. Early mists are

general, and forked lightning and waterspouts are
phenomena of everyday occurrence off the coast.
The monsoons are approximately the same as
elsewhere in the Indies.
The history of the great island before its re-dis
covery by the Portuguese is wrapped in mystery.
In the maps and notes of the early cartographers
and travellers a number of different names have
been used in connection with an island vaguely
situated somewhere beyond the India of the main
land, and thought by many to be sufficiently
identified as Sumatra, but the geographical
knowledge of the time was extremely hazy, and it
is apparent that at least one of these names was
used of Sumatra by one man and of Madagascar
by another. Among these names on the ancient
maps are Taprobani, Tropoban, Samara, Al Rami,
Samantara, Palisimonde, Malayu, and Tosan.
Even the derivation of the present name is a
matter of doubt and two explanations are offered,
some stating its origin to lie in an abbreviation
of the Malay words "burnt suma utara, " used by
the people of Java to describe the situation of
Sumatra to their "north-west," others declaring
an earlier form, Sumudra, to have been the name,
first of a village on the north-east coast, then of
the town to which the village grew, later of the
kingdom governed from the town, and finally of
the entire island. These last authorities affirm
a
v.
<
a
v.
 SUMATRA: GENERALITIES 279

Sumudra to be from the Sanscrit word for sea.

Di Conti, a traveller of the fifteenth century, is
responsible for the spelling Shamuthera, and Ibn
Batuta, the Arab who spent a fortnight at the
court of a Sumatran king, in 1346 or thereabouts,
while on his way to China, prefers Samathra or
Samuthra.
The Malay Chronicles relate the founding of a
city on the island by a fisherman, Marah Silu, later
a Mahometan ruler under the name of Malik al
Saleh. The name of this city is given as Sumudra.
The chronicles also state that Mahometanism was
introduced by a Moslem mission from Mecca
which reached the island by way of mainland In
dia. We know of a certainty nothing definite, but
it is a fact that, centuries before the advent of the
Portuguese, the Arabs, Hindus, and Chinese were
familiar with the coasts of Sumatra and were
interested in its trade.
Towards the end of the thirteenth century
that remarkable traveller Marco Polo passed
several months on the east coast, called the
island "Java Minor," and expatiated on the tails
and cannibalistic customs of its natives. Appar
ently at this period there were three kingdoms
on the island, Mahometanism had not yet put
in an appearance, and the then rising state of
Sumuthala was in the habit of paying tribute to
the famous Kublai Khan, the ruler or suzerain
of nearly the whole of far-eastern Asia. Odori
280 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

cus and Mandeville visited the island in the four

teenth century, but their relations add little to
the scant information at our command.
As was the case in the rest of the Insulinde, the
Portuguese, in the early years of the sixteenth cent
ury, were the first Europeans to make serious
attempts to establish permanent trade relations
with the natives of Sumatra. Sequeira, as early
as 1509, cruised about the coast, landed at Pedir
and Pasay on the north-east, and did some trading;
Albuquerque also, in 151 1, visited Pedir; and in
1 5 13 the King of Portugal in a letter to the Pope
makes mention of the recent discovery of Sumatra.
Ludovico di Varthema tells of a visit in 1505, but
despite claims in his behalf, he apparently was no
more a discoverer of the island than was Polo.
In 1520 Diogo Pacheco made the first complete
circumnavigation, but by that date nearly every
point on the coast had been already visited by his
fellow-countrymen. The voyages of the various
Portuguese captains brought into their hands a
profitable trade in peppers and other spices, but
the continued hostility of the natives, especially in
Achin in the north, for a long time delayed them
in extending their recently acquired dominion at
Malacca to the great neighbouring island,—in
fact the Achinese actually made strenuous at
tempts to drive them from their Malaccan
stronghold.
The Dutch and English entered the competition
 SUMATRA: GENERALITIES 281

for Sumatran trade nearly a century later, Corne

lius Houtman being the first arrival. Houtman
was killed by the resentful natives of Achin in 1599,
and in the same year John Davis visited Achin,
Lancaster coming in the following year and suc
ceeding in making a treaty with the Achinese on
behalf of the East India Company providing for a
trade in pepper. By this time the famous "ar
mada" had met its end, and the maritime ventures
of the Latin peoples had received a severe set
back, giving the newcomers every opportunity to
reap the benefits so long beyond their reach.
The English, as we have seen in another con
nection, gradually centred their energies on the
mainland and took comparatively little interest in
the islands after the middle of the seventeenth
century. The Dutch met with such harsh treat
ment in Achin that they preferred to give the best
of their attention to Java and the Spice Islands
farther to the east.
It was only after the fall of Napoleon and the
restoration of the islands to the Dutch after the
temporary British occupation that steps were
taken to bring the vast territories of the Mahom
etan sultans of the Sumatran kingdoms under the
direct or advisory rule of Netherlands India, and
it was not till 1872 that Great Britain agreed to
recognize the sovereignty of Holland over the
entire island, and then only in return for con
cessions on the African Gold Coast.
282 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

The subjugation and pacification of Sumatra

have from the first proved undertakings of more
than ordinary difficulty, and the presence of gar
risons in the chief towns and at strategic points
throughout the country is still a necessary safe
guard to the maintenance of the Dutch rule.
Outbreaks occur from time to time and the hand
ling of the sensitive, courageous, revengeful natives
requires a rare combination of firmness and deli
cacy. In the north, in Achin, or Atjeh as it is
officially named, the domination of Europeans
has been strenuously resisted from the very first.
The killing of Houtman by the Achinese in 1599
was but the beginning of a series of bitter struggles,
which were brought to a temporary close by the
expulsion of the Dutch in 1616, but resumed upon
their return after a short absence and con
tinued intermittently to within a few years.
During the British occupation of the early nine
teenth century, Raffles deposed the Achinese king
or sultan and forced a commercial treaty upon the
natives, but the effects of his efforts were not last
ing, and when the Dutch recovered possession
Achin once more broke into open rebellion. In
1873 the endless feud culminated in actual war
fare, and the bad health conditions of the coast
and natural inaccessibility of the highlands
proved such able allies of the Achinese that for
over thirty years the Dutch expeditions were
unsuccessful in their attempts to bring about
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conditions of peace. The various Achin wars and

expeditions are estimated to have cost the Dutch
over 200,000 lives and $200,000,000 gold in all.
To-day Atchin is reported as pacified and its
capital, Kota Radja, is the seat of a Dutch gover
nor and the headquarters of the army of occupa
tion. Apparently permanent peace conditions
have at last been established in this disturbed
region after three centuries of almost unbroken
hostilities.
In Deli, Siak, Djambi, and Palembang on the
east coast the native sultans have become pro
tected rulers and Dutch Residents dictate their
policies and are responsible for their government.
The Lampong country in the south was annexed
at the time of Marshal Daendals, as the result of a
successful expedition against the King of Bantam,
then overlord of the Lampongs. The neighbour
ing kingdoms to the north were taken over soon
after the middle of the last century. Bencoelen
on the south-west coast was acquired with a strip
of coast land from the British. The lands of the
uncivilized Bataks, once considered part of south
ern Achin, have only quite recently come under the
absolute control of the Dutch.
The rich, central, highland country back of Pa-
dang (half-way up the west coast) remained in
the hands of the native sovereigns of the kingdom
or empire of Menangkabau till near the close of the
last century, although its annexation had been
284 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

planned for a number of years. The downfall of

Menangkabau may be traced to religious dis
agreements of the natives occasioned by certain
"hadjis" or Mahometan pilgrims who returned
to their native land from Mecca in 1803, filled with
zeal for the reformation of their lax co-religionists
at home. Unsuccessful in their efforts to induce
the ruler of their land to abolish the adat or
customary law which for several centuries had
been the supreme authority in the government
of domestic and other relations, these hadjis and
their followers, later known as the "Padris," finally
instituted a religious rebellion. This grew to such
proportions that the native ruler found himself
unable to cope with it without outside assistance,
and in 1821 called upon the Dutch for aid. It
took the Europeans over fifteen years of hard
fighting to suppress the fanatic rebels, and during
these years their covetousness was constantly
aroused by the sight of the magnificent country
over which they were fighting. Soon after the end
of the Padri war steps were taken towards a possi
ble annexation of Menangkabau, but native senti
ment was aroused to a fever point by the mere
suggestion, and the fear of a general outbreak
throughout the whole island seems to have led to
the abandonment of the scheme for the time. It
was not till 1899 that the psychological moment
arrived and the long-planned annexation was
effected.
 SUMATRA: GENERALITIES 285

The Achin and the Padri wars serve in some

measure to illustrate the difficulties of subduing
the natives of Sumatra and .to explain in part the
backwardness of the island in matters of exploit
ation and civilization, as compared with Java and
the Spice Islands. The present seems to be a
transition period between an exceptionally dark
past and an exceptionally bright future. Suma
tra is surely a coming country. Its resources have
as yet been hardly touched, and when its vast
natural wealth is developed it will probably prove
as valuable to its owners as any colonial possession
in the world. Its possibilities for cultivation are
almost limitless, and one of its future fields of use
fulness will doubtless lie in the ability of its now
sparsely populated lands to furnish homes and
food supplies to the surplus millions of yet unborn
Javanese who will be unable to find space or sus
tenance on their own island.
Communications are beyond a doubt the most
important aid in the opening up of a new country,
but for many years the Dutch were strangely
conservative in the matter of railroads in their
colonial possessions, even blocking for a time the
construction of a trunk line across Java. Re
cently a more progressive spirit is becoming mani
fest and tracks are beginning to stretch out in
every direction. Sumatra already boasts about
two hundred miles of railway proper and in ad
dition three hundred and fifty odd of narrow
286 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

gauge or tram-line. The latter are all in the north

east, and two hundred and fifty miles of track
are comprised in the military line which extends
along the coast and through the interior of Achin,
a line built to serve the needs of the troops, but
lately thrown open to public use. The broad-
gauge roads include the Medan-Deli system in the
east, and the hundred and fifty miles of track
joining Padang and the highland regions of Central
Sumatra to its east. At the present there is no
railway across the island, but from Bencoelen,
Padang, and other points it is possible to accom
plish the journey from east to west or vice versa
by making use of pony carts part of the way and
river steamers the rest. There are good roads in
the coast districts and motor-cars are fast becom
ing a familiar sight.
The hotels of Sumatra are few and primitive,
moderate in their charges, and usually managed by
polite and willing hosts. The same pavilion or
gallery system is used to which we have become so
accustomed in Java, but it is best to make no fur
ther comparisons and to expect very little in the
way of modern conveniences or even of usual com
forts. Travelling for pleasure has not yet become
sufficiently common in Sumatra to create a demand
for much more than a place in which to sleep and get
meals, and the local inns afford little in excess of
the demand.
 CHAPTER XVI

UP THE WEST COAST OF SUMATRA TO PADANG

FROM Batavia one has a choice of two routes

to Sumatra by the steamers of the inter-
island line (the Koninklijke Paketvaart Maat-
schappij),—one service running to Palembang,
Djambi, and the other ports of the east coast,
another to Bencoelen and Padang on the west
coast. As the finest country in all Sumatra is
the central plateau land accessible from Padang,
nearly all travellers prefer the voyage up the
west coast, despite the fact that the sea is apt to
be rough nearly all the way and the few stops are
made in open roadsteads, where the ships roll
heavily at anchor, exposed to the wash of the whole
Indian Ocean.
Lacking time for both trips, we decided on the
west coast route and set sail from Tandjong Priok
in a trim little steamer of about two thousand
tons, burning oil fuel and laden with a cargo which
appeared to be composed principally of ammuni
tion and explosives. Nearly all the first-cabin
287
288 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

passengers were booked for the first stop, en route

to newly discovered gold-fields, and only a mere
handful for the entire voyage of three days and
a half to Emmahaven, the port of Padang. Our
departure was remarkable chiefly for the gay par
ties of half-castes who came to the steamer to say
farewell to relatives and friends among the pass
engers. The Dutch seem to find no difficulty in
ignoring the colour-line, and it is perfectly true
that many of these "coloured Europeans" are
highly cultivated and thoroughly refined, yet at
first it is, for some reason, extremely difficult
to admit their claims to social equality. The
captain of our ship spoke English fluently, but
the " jonges," or stewards, I soon discovered, knew
no European tongue but Dutch.
We left the harbour shortly before sunset,
steaming through the islands at the most favour
able time of day for a thorough enjoyment of the
last views of Java. Attended by schools of fly
ing fish, our steamer passed slowly the Poeloe Kapal
or Ship Island (also called Onrust) , once an import
ant naval base, but now, through the rise of Soera-
baya, shorn of its glory and reduced to the low
rank of a mere repair station; then Kuiper with
its old lookout tower; Edam, the light-house island,
and a score of others, low-lying and covered with
masses of green verdure. Looking back towards
Java, the summits of Salak and the Gedeh of
Bantam could be seen for a long time raising their
 WEST COAST OF SUMATRA 289

majestic tops above the disappearing lowlands

of the coast.
During the night we navigated the choppy
waters of the Straits of Sunda and at dawn entered
the quiet, deep bay of Telok Betong, anchoring
about half a mile from the shore and settlement.
From the ship sandy beaches, plantations, and a
background of low, hummocked hills with unsight
ly clearings on their heavily forested sides are the
main features of the landscape. Towards the sea
the entrance of the bay is partially closed by a
series of small cone-shaped islands of evident
volcanic origin. Unfortunately for the gratifi
cation of my curiosity, the through passengers
were not able to go ashore at Telok Betong, the
ship's boats having quite enough to keep them
busy in landing the cargo and the persons
booked for this port. The town is the capital
of the Lampong districts and said to be a
favourite trading place of the Chinese, Arabs,
and Bugis, but its population is under 4000 and
there is absolutely nothing of interest to be seen
in it or its vicinity; none the less, we would rather
have landed than spent the hot morning as we did
in watching the native sail-boats skidding tanta-
lizingly about over the smooth water, their inverted
triangular sails bellied out by breezes which we
could not feel.
As we finally got under way and left the bay,
a line of high mountains far astern—the lower
19
29o JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

ridges of the Barisons—began to shed their

pall of clouds, and at nearly the same moment
the steamer cleared the protection of the islands
at the entrance, and began to roll heavily in
the ground-swell. Mountains and all else soon
lost interest in a general rush for cabins, and
although Krakatoa, the most famous volcano in
Asia, if not in the whole world, was to be sighted
very shortly, hardly a passenger retained a suf
ficient interest in the outside world to remain on
deck.
Krakatoa, or Rakata, is a crater-island or island-
crater that brought itself prominently before the
eyes of all mankind in its great, historic eruption of
August, 1883. In this titanic convulsion the
monster volcano nearly destroyed itself, totally
obliterated from the map an island of considerable
size, changed completely a part of the neighbouring
coast-line of Java, expelled eighteen cubic kilo
meters of mud and lava from its rent crater, and
emitted clouds of vapour which rose to an altitude
over five times as great as that of the summit of
Mont Blanc. Other facts are even more impres
sive. The noise of the explosion was heard nearly
three thousand miles away, darkened skies were
reported for as much as twenty-four hours to a
distance of over a hundred miles, and ashes fell
over all Southern Sumatra and Western Java.
Smaller particles of ash, blown high into the upper
air, remained in suspense for weeks and gave a
 WEST COAST OF SUMATRA 291

peculiarly lurid colouring to the sunsets as far even

as Australia.
One terrible aftermath of the explosion was a
tidal wave, seventy or eighty feet high, which
swept over the near-by coasts of Java and
Sumatra, carrying death and desolation in its
wake. The marks left on the hillsides by this
colossal wave are still plainly visible at Telok
Betong, and the story is told that a small
steamer was dragged from its anchorage and
deposited in the market-place of a native village
two miles away and thirty feet above sea-level.
On the west coast of Java some 36,000 people were
drowned and their homes carried off to sea in the
recession of this monstrous wave.
To-day the island of Krakatoa is a misshapen
mass and bears no resemblance to the graceful
cones which enclose so many of the island craters.
The traces of the great eruption are being rapidly
concealed by a thick growth of vegetation, and the
ragged slopes and bare, ugly levels of yesterday are
already nearly covered. From a distance, at least,
one would never imagine that this utterly peaceful-
looking island was, but thirty years ago, the scene
of such terrific manifestations of the internal
unrest of our thin-shelled planet.
After rounding the south-western extremity of
Sumatra, Cape Vlakke Hoek, we met rougher seas,
and the little steamer settled into an unremitting
roll, which seemed to grow worse and worse as we
292 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

steamed to the north. At Bentoehan in the

Bay of Sombat, and at Manna on the open sea, we
stopped to discharge cargo, and the rolling and
tossing about at anchor reminded me unpleasantly
of similar experiences in cruising down the east
coast of Australia. There, one has the advantage
of being protected by the Great Barrier Reef
while between ports, but the stops are generally
made off towns built at the mouths of rivers, where
the current of these streams is responsible for great
breaches in the reef, through which comes the
wash of the Pacific in all its accumulated strength.
Writers have described the voyage from Cape
Vlakke Hoek to Bencoelen (the next stop north of
Manna) as, during the prevalence of the wet mon
soon, the worst for bad weather and high seas in all
the Far East. From my limited experiences I feel
inclined to concur most heartily in this.
It is a half day's steam from Manna to Bencoelen,
and sandy beaches and a background of high
mountains are always in sight. An hour before
turning in to the Bencoelen anchorage we passed
a small bay, the mouth of which was nearly closed
by a large wreck and the coral accretions which
had built up about it. Some seventy-five miles
inland are the valuable mines of an Australian coal
concession, and the bay was soon to be opened for
use as a shipping point for the product, and a rail
way built to the interior. Arriving off Bencoelen
too late to admit of the working of the cargo, we
 WEST COAST OF SUMATRA 293

anchored well out from the shore, and rolled all

night as we had rolled all day. In the evening
some of the ship's officers gave an impromptu
concert with the aid of a quaint little portable
organ with a register of but two octaves, the
wind for which was supplied by a bellows worked
by a crank and foot pedal. "Rolling down to
Rio" seemed altogether the most appropriate of
the many selections with which we were edified.
At dawn we moved in towards the shore, but
there still remained a good twenty minutes' pull in
a ship's boat to the landing jetty. Bencoelen is,
after Padang, the most important city of the west
coast. It is the capital of a residency and has
a population of 7700. Under the regime of the
British and their able representative Raffles, this
town for a time seemed likely to become the
principal city of all the far eastern island settle
ments, and later, under the Dutch, it was still
thought to have a great future before it, but in the
end the natural obstacles to its progress proved
insuperable, and the town has fallen into a state
of stagnation, a victim to its feverish, unhealthy
site and the rapid silting up of its harbour.
Beyond the landing jetty, on a hillock to the
left, as one approaches by water, stands a relic of
British days, the correct little fortification still
called Fort Marlborough. Within its sally-port
are the tombs of three Englishmen who died here
in the performance of their military duty. This
294 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

miniature fort is in a fine state of preservation, and

its dry moat, walls, parapets, sentinels' lookouts,
barracks, dungeons, and magazines are all in
serviceable condition, though, of course, too
ancient to challenge comparison with the defensive
works of more modern times. The fort overlooks
both the sea and the settlement, and the view from
the battlements is well worth the exertion of the
climb. A few yards from Fort Marlborough, on
a plain or parade-ground which recalls vividly the
"training-grounds" of the early New England vil
lage, we found the mansion of the Dutch Resi
dent, and near-by, like the skeleton at the feast,
a domed memorial built at the behest of the
government by forced native labour to the memory
of a former Resident assassinated by natives.
The foreign section of Bencoelen lies back from
the shore and is hardly visible from the sea. It is
the embodiment of quiet and restfulness. Its
sanded roads, fair lawns, and prosperous, colonial
houses with high, gabled roofs of red tiling bear
many signs of the English influence. Along the
water-front are the Arab and Chinese Camps
or quarters, the buildings of which are huddled
together in about equal proportions of thatched
and tiled roofs, sheet iron bearing a disagreeably
prominent part in the construction of many.
The native kampongs lie quite outside of the town,
and are to no appreciable extent different from
those to which we have become so used in the ports
 WEST COAST OF SUMATRA 295

of Java and the smaller islands. The country

carts of this vicinity have high, arched roofs and
are gaily coloured and otherwise ornamented.
The motive power is furnished by bullocks or
carbos. The inhabitants of Bencoelen are in
physiognomy and dress quite indistinguishable
from those of Western Java, unless perhaps to the
eyes of an expert ethnologist.
The country surrounding the settlement is rich
in rice, tobacco, peppers, gambir, rattan, and other
valuable products, and the forests and plains far
ther inland are a favourite herding ground of wild
elephants and the home of several other varieties
of big game. Individual tuskers have been killed
within fifteen miles of the town, and large troops
are often reported slightly farther away. During
our short stop of a few hours I heard wonderful
tales of hunting the huge beasts on motor cycles,
and again of cases in which these animals became
lost in the dense fog and strayed into native
villages, or where, suddenly frightened, they
stampeded to the jungle through fields, orchards,
and native houses alike, leaving behind them a
track of ruin and waste.
There are high mountains in the Bencoelen
Residency, and several peaks may be seen from
shipboard on clear days,—the Bongso, in form
like a sugar-loaf, the volcano Kaba, and, almost
behind Manna, the giant Dempo, over 10,000 feet
high. Despite the mountains it is quite easy to
296 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

cross the island from Bencoelen to Palembang.

Tebing Tinggi, a garrisoned post on an upper
reach of the Moesi River, makes an excellent
half-way station ; river steamers are available for
a great part of the distance, and a postal motor
car may be used for the last hundred miles or so
of the journey.
A few hours after leaving Bencoelen we ran into
smoother water, in the lea of a line of coastal
islands, and for the remainder of the voyage to
Emmahaven the sea gave us no cause for com
plaint. There was luckily one compensation for
the roughness of these heavy west coast seas and
the discomforts which were their natural con
sequence,—the splendour of the sunsets and the
beauties of the sky at sunrise. The sunsets in
particular were simply marvellous. Every even
ing for at least an hour the sky was a gorgeous
mass of colour, changing continually but always
brilliant, a strong contrast to the weird shades of
the water, which gradually darkened from indigo
or green to inky blackness. One evening the sky
and clouds took on, with almost uncanny truth
fulness, the semblance of a fairy city,—a city on a
river-bank, with streets, squares, buildings, and
water of wondrous tints of rose-pink, grey, and
blue. For a full quarter-hour the outlines were as
clear as those of a mirage, and then of a sudden
the vision lost form, and the fairy tints deepened
into splendid, vivid reds, purples, greens, and golds.
 WEST COAST OF SUMATRA 297

Turner and the impressionists have been repeat

edly criticized for intense or impossible colouring,
but surely no human artist ever conceived such
riots of lurid colour combination as nature has
painted on these skies of the Sumatran west coast.
Of all the many fine sunsets that I have witnessed
in many lands and on many seas, I have never
seen one that could compare with these for gaudy
splendour or for soft loveliness.
The morning of our arrival at Emmahaven,
when we came on deck, the coast-line was still
enveloped in the haze or fog, but the summit of
Indrapoera, x monarch of the Sumatran mountains,
stood out above its shroud of vapour like the head
of a white-robed giant. Indrapoera, in the belief
of the natives, is the home of the gods, and its
mysteries have not yet been defiled by the foot of
man. The great volcano puffed its spirals of
smoke into the upper air in quiet harmlessness and
with the calmness of unapproachable, immeasur
able dignity.
The immediate approach to Emmahaven proved
a most agreeable surprise. The little port is situ
ated at the far end of a charming bay named after
Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands, its own
name being in honour of the Queen-mother. The
bay is dotted with bewitching islands, some
fringed with gleaming beaches of coral sand, and
1 Its height has been given by different authorities as 11,800
and as 12,200 feet.
298 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

covered with fine trees and thick undergrowth of

brilliant green, others apparently of more recent
volcanic origin, masses of rock, broken by the
processes of nature into curious and fantastic
forms, with cliffs and caves and sharp promontories
partly overgrown, as the others, with the irrepressi
ble vegetation of the equatorial tropics. Here
and there, through the dense foliage of these islands,
we could pick out an occasional thatched cottage
or the boats of the fishermen. The most fasci
nating island of all, Marok by name, had for all the
world the look of an old-fashioned, paper-frilled
bouquet of greens, floating on the surface of the
bay. We quite expected that a closer view would
reveal its paper-enveloped stem reaching down
through the water below.
Far off to the left, the captain pointed out the
wreck of an English ship, which broke up a few
years ago on the reef, of the position of which a
defective chart gave no warning. Nearer at hand,
a new light-house was being erected. The princi
pal light-house of the port stands on a hill on the
mainland, at some distance from the settlement,
but we were told that this was to be superseded
by one on an island site; and for the most extra
ordinary reason that the keepers of the old light
had several times been attacked by tigers, and as a
result there was a certain difficulty in finding any
one to fill the post. For the truth of this explana
tion I prefer not to vouch personally. One hears
 WEST COAST OF SUMATRA 299

so many strange tales in this part of the world

that faith becomes credulity after a time.
As we prepared to land at the busy wharf,
already occupied by a Dutch gunboat and a
couple of other steamers, the railway train that we
had supposed was there for our special convenience
pulled out, and, in default of another for an hour or
so, we were forced to hunt up sados and drive with
our baggage to Padang, an hour distant on the
road. The highway was moderately picturesque,
but we found it hard to repress a feeling of dis
appointment in seeing nothing typical of Sumatra
as distinguished from Java. The people that we
saw were mere Malays, the scenery was of that rice-
field, palm-tree type of which we were perhaps a
trifle weary.
In Padang itself the same similarity continued.
The streets of the European quarter are broad
and shaded with the shade-trees of Java and
the foreign residences are the same comfortable
structures surrounded by wide stretches of
lawn. The military district, the tokos, and the
Chinese Camp are in no wise different. The one
distinctive feature is the prevalence of wooden
houses and thatched roofs,—a gain in the pic
turesque, but at what would seem to be a vast
increase in the fire hazard.
At the hotel the most agreeable feature, to our
minds, was a fine shower in the bath-room. The
atmosphere of Padang has a peculiar miasmic
3oo JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

quality that brings to one's mind thoughts of fever

and malaria, and the mosquitoes are so pernicious
in their activities that life in town becomes burden
some within a few hours. We concluded that
it was best to get away from the city at the earliest
possible moment and seek the healthier region of
the highlands. Fortunately the sights of Padang
may be seen in one drive of a couple of hours.
The great square, the monument to General
Michaelis (killed in the Bali war in 1849), the
water-front promenade, and the Apenburg or
Ape Hill, with its scores of half-tame apes, are the
only noteworthy features of this city of over 90,000
inhabitants, the capital of the Residency of the
Padang Lowlands.
During our stop of a day in Padang, in wander
ings about the streets in a vain effort to obtain
a temporary respite from the attentions of the
hotel mosquitoes, I chanced on several rather
unusual city sights: men carrying about fighting
quails (the Malay substitute in the islands for the
fighting cocks of more northerly peoples), the birds
being in cages and hidden from view by elaborately
embroidered and heavily tinselled cloth covers; a
specimen of that grotesque creature, the "poe-
kang"; and one large constrictor snake. The
"poekang" was chained to a perch and offered me
by his boy owner for a few guilders. The animal
is a sort of lemur, I think, and about the size of a
small monkey. It somewhat resembles a marmo-
s,
--
a
 WEST COAST OF SUMATRA 301

set, has grey-brown fur, a quaint head with "pop"

eyes and prominent ears, a long tail, bushy at
the end, and an extremely nervous temperament.
The curious little beasts are said to make good
pets.
The snake that we saw was about seven feet
long. He had been dragged by small native boys
from his place of hiding in the undergrowth of an
unoccupied compound and was being cruelly teased
with that lack of feeling which characterizes the
treatment of snakes the world over. It seemed
curious to see, here in a main street of the Euro
pean quarter of Padang, the first snake that we had
seen in even a partial state of freedom during all
our weeks of travel in lands where these reptiles are
thought to be so common. It is hard to realize
that in these regions of the equator the jungle so
quickly reclaims its own that an unoccupied and
uncared-for private compound in the centre of a
city may in a few weeks degenerate into a suitable
lurking-place for all sorts of objectionable forms of
animal life, but such is the case.
Padang, the name of the city, means literally
"open plain," and is a recognition of the flatness
of the country in the neighbourhood. The town
lies at the confluence of two rivers, the Padang
Aran and the Padang Idel. The bay which forms
the outlet of these streams was once the harbour
of the city, but became so clogged with mud that
it was finally superseded in 1892 by Wilhelmina
302 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Bay, and the new port, Emmahaven, was built

beyond the Apenburg, I or Ape Hill, from Padang
proper. There is nothing of general interest in the
history of the town. It was first occupied by the
Dutch in 1660, and four years later a government
was established which remained supreme till the
seizure of the Indies by the British at the time of
Napoleon and was renewed after a break of a few
years. Of late, Padang has nourished to an
unexpected degree, and it is safe to prophesy a
still more prosperous future for this chief town of
Sumatra. The riches of the interior are only
just now beginning to be exploited, and through
this gate must pass to the outer world the greater
part of the coffee, rubber, tobacco, copra, gums,
hides, timber, petroleum, and other products of
the central districts. It is quite possible that
within a decade or two Padang may become a
serious rival of the greatest ports of Java in the
value of its exports.
* Three hundred and forty feet high.
 CHAPTER XVII

A WEEK IN THE PADANG HIGHLANDS

A SINGLE day in Padang is quite enough to

exhaust the sight-seeing possibilities of that
city, and one sweltering night spent, for the most
part, in fighting off the attacks of the vicious mos
quitoes is quite enough to exhaust the sight-seer
and drive him quickly to time-tables and sail
ing lists. Less than twenty-four hours after our
arrival we were reduced to this condition and
we started at the earliest opportunity for Fort
de Kock, the highland capital, in search of fresh
air and less depressing surroundings.
The railway journey to the Bovenlanden or
highlands takes but four or five hours. For the
first forty miles or so the road runs nearly due
north through the flat, alluvial lands of the sea-
coast, a region of rice-fields, watered by a number
of streams or so-called rivers. After four or five
long stops at almost deserted stations, we finally
reached the foothills at Sinjintzin. This section
of country is rough and rocky, abounding in small,
brush-covered hills, the intervening depressions
303
304 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

overgrown with long, coarse grass and scrub.

Sinjintzin is the centre of a famous tiger country,
and many of the "big cats" are killed yearly
within a few miles of the station. There is a
marked resemblance in the general conformation
of the land in this vicinity to that of the lion
country near Nairobi in British East Africa.
The hillocks are full of caves which furnish safe
retreats for the wild beasts to hide in, and the
long grass affords good temporary cover.
At the next station we had already reached an
elevation of over four hundred feet, and were at the
point where the climb begins in earnest. The
engine went to the rear of the train to push, and
the passengers crowded to the front platform of
the leading car, in anticipation of the ascent of the
picturesque ravine or valley of the Aneh just be
fore us. This wild valley has been compared
by several writers to the St. Gotthard Pass be
tween Goschenen and Andermatt in the Swiss
Alps, but the comparison seems to me rather
strained, though it is true that in each case the
valley is narrow and shut in by high mountain
walls, and in each there are a madly rushing torrent
and a winding road. The contrasts are really
greater than the points of resemblance, for the
Alpine valley is as bare and destitute of trees as
the Sumatran is rich in all the luxuriance of a
tropical vegetation.
The Aneh River, as we saw it, was a perfectly
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 305

self-contained and well-behaving stream, flowing

quite properly through the gorge in its natural
bed; but it is not always so peaceably inclined.
In 1888, for example, and again in 1892, swollen by
freshets and pent-up by landslides, it broke loose
in a frenzy of destruction, completely overflowing
its banks and carrying away tracks, embankments,
roads, bridges, and buildings—in fact, everything
lying in its path. The railway has been relocated
along higher levels and the bridges have been
rebuilt more strongly, but even to-day it would
probably be rash to make a positive assertion that
the present works are wholly adequate to protect
the road from the tremendous forces which nature
may suddenly hurl against it.
Through the ravine the tracks twist and turn
for a distance of over ten miles, crossing and
recrossing the turbulent little river, now at its
level, now a full hundred feet above. For over an
hour the train is on the rack rail, running between
high walls of rock, in the midst of cliffs and crags
clothed to the last foot with trees and under
growth. The landscape is even wilder and more
savage than those of the Preangers. The vege
tation shades gradually from the plant and tree
life of the equator to that which we are more ac
customed to associate with the temperate zones.
From palms and bananas we rose to the typical
forests of the East Indian mountains, with stately
trees, graceful tree-ferns, uncanny creepers, and
306 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

parasitic climbers. As we drew nearer the fertile

plateau lands of the highlands, the vegetation was
less dense, coarse grass and mountain wild-flowers
covered the ground, and we noticed a welcome
change from the burdensome atmosphere of the
lower levels. From time to time, through clefts
in the gorge walls or looming above, could be seen
to the left the twin volcanoes, Singgalang-
Tandikat,1 and later, to the right, the truncated
cone of the Sumatran Merapi, 3 violently eruptive
as recently as 1876, but now tranquilly puffing its
pipe of peace. At one point where the valley
floor widens into a considerable basin, there is a
pretty waterfall some eighty feet high, the Ayer
Mantjoer. Unfortunately the road has been
built of necessity in such a way as to hide from
general view a large part of this fall.
About three hours from Padang we reached the
junction of the two branches of the railway, one
continuing north to Fort de Kock, and beyond in an
easterly direction to Pajakombo, the other turn
ing to the south-east, skirting the shores of Lake
Singkarah and bringing up at Sawah Loento, the
terminal from which the products of the great
Oembilin coal-fields find their way to the coast.
The known deposits of these coal-fields are esti
mated at over two hundred million tons, and the
annual output is already in excess of a third of a
million. Lake Singkarah is said to be very beau-
'9350 and 7925 feet high respectively. '9393 feet high.
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 307

tiful, and not far beyond it, from a high point in

the vicinity of the village of Pajo, there is said to
be one of the finest views in the whole Insulinde.
At Padang-Pandjang, our junction station, it was
for the first time possible to realize that we were
in Sumatra, and not merely somewhere in Malaya,
for here we had our first sight of something
unmistakably and indisputably Sumatran,—the
extraordinary "horned" house of the highlands.
Aside from its horned houses (of which I shall have
considerable to say later), and its reputation as the
rainiest place in the Dutch East Indies, there is
nothing to commend this settlement of less than
two thousand people to the attention of the travel
ler. The village is 2400 feet above the sea.
Beyond this point it is a ride of but thirteen
miles to Fort de Kock. For three-quarters of an
hour the tracks continue to climb on the rack
rail to the summit of the ridge which connects the
two great mountains, Singgalang and Merapi.
The air becomes steadily fresher and more agree
able, the scenery more familiar and usual, and the
country more highly cultivated. At one point we
got a glimpse of Lake Singkarah, far back to the
right, and at Kota Baroe we reached the highest
elevation—3750 feet—and began the descent to
the plain of Agam, the fertile plateau land a few
hundred feet lower, through which we continued to
our destination. Here and there horned houses
and rice-barns added to the natural beauty of the
308 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

scene, and in many fields we noticed grotesque

rag scarecrows, kept in constant motion by
small boys in shelter-huts. There seem to be no
bare, uncultivated spots in this entire plain and
its people have the appearance of being more than
usually industrious and prosperous. The whole
atmosphere is one of peace and rural content, and
one finds it difficult to realize that he is in Central
Sumatra, and that this peaceful plain witnessed
some of the bloodiest encounters of the Padri war
less than a century ago.
Fort de Kock is primarily a garrison town, and
its non-military population is less than 2500,
including the hundred or two Dutch civilian resi
dents. Selected originally as the site of an army
post by reason of its strategic position in the centre
of the great plain of Agam, it has, by reason of its
healthful situation 3000 feet above the sea in an
open stretch of country, become a favourite resort
of the European residents of Padang and boasts its
club and race-course. Its ungrown shade-trees,
and the unoccupied streets which we noticed here
and there, give one the impression that Fort de
Kock is a new settlement, a mushroom growth, a
fiat town like Russian Dalny in the days before the
Japanese seizure. In its broad streets there is
little local colour. One meets more Dutch officers
and invalids than natives, and a search for horned
houses proves vain. The hotel at which we put up
was a crude copy in miniature of the larger hotels
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 309

of the pavilion system. Its plaited bamboo walls

were admirably adapted to the convenience and
comfort of many forms of insect life, its beds were
honoured in being so called, and its culinary and
sanitary departments primitive, to say the least
and the best. The shops of the settlement are
hardly more satisfactory than the hotel accommo
dations. They are largely in the hands of the
Chinese, as are the photographers' "portret"
galleries.
The principal amusement of life at the hotel is
the daily bargaining with the native merchants
who swarm down upon the guests before and after
each meal, and with a patient persistence which
deserves its usual final success. The unwary
visitor is likely to be laden down before he realizes
it with a lot of trash for which he has paid several
times the value, and he should remember that
these wandering pedlars never hope to get more
than a fraction of the sum first mentioned as the
selling price. The wares displayed by these
itinerant merchants are beadwork, metal work,
native jewelry and arms, brocades and other native
fabrics. Perhaps the most interesting to the
stranger are the little metal models of the horned
houses and the stilted rice-barns. As a rule, it is
preferable to make one's purchases so far as possible
in the markets or bazaars.
There is one walk in Fort de Kock that one soon
falls into the habit of taking at least once a day and
310 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

if possible at a different hour each time,—the walk

which leads along the edge of the gully or gulch
known as the " Karbouwengat " or "Ngarai. "
This "Buffalo Gully" is accessible in a few minutes
from the hotel and is one of the wonders of the
place. It is a deep ravine gradually worn through
the soil and soft tuff rock by the waters of two
streams, the Masang and the Si-Anok. Its name
comes from the fact that a number of cattle, stray
ing too near the edge of its sheer sides, have fallen
to destruction hundreds of feet below. The
"wengat" extends for two or three miles, with a
varying width of from a hundred and fifty feet to
several hundred yards, shut in by walls of stratified
clay and sand, disintegrated pumice and tuff,
in some places three or four hundred feet high.
These walls are partly overgrown, but there are
many bare places, where in certain lights one may
see all the rich reds, browns, and yellows that are
so conspicuous in the Grand Canyon of the Colo
rado. The beauties of the wild scenery of the
wengat are greatly enhanced by the lights and
shadows of early morning and sunset and in
the moonlight are at their very best. From the
floor of the wengat, at some distance beyond
the town, there rises to a height of perhaps two
hundred and fifty feet a detached mass of bare,
yellowish rock, crowned by a few trees. The
sides of this "Island Hill" are almost perpen
dicular and the top is nearly level, giving one an
L
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 311

impression at first sight that he is looking at a

ruined tower or stupa.
Another walk, uncomfortably hot except in the
early morning, leads us to the hill or " boekit " from
which Fort de Kock gets its native name Boekit
Tinggi. Here on high ground are the ruins of the
fortifications erected by the Dutch during their
operations against the Padris in 1825, and named
Fort de Kock after a Dutch officer, the father-in-
law of the then military commander at Padang.
Among the other things to be seen near by is the
local market or weekly fair, but the fair at Paja-
kombo, an hour and a half away by train, is far
more extensive and much more interesting, and
few strangers take the time and trouble to visit
the lesser mart .
To me the most interesting excursion in the
neighbourhood of Fort de Kock was the trip to the
crater lake, Manindjau, about ten miles away.
We made the usual early start in one of the high,
uncomfortable, badly balanced two-pony sados,
with loudly creaking axles, which are the approved
conveyance of the highland districts. We forded the
shallow Si-Anok near the Island Hill, climbed the
steep slope beyond, and drove along the farther
edge of the "wengat" for a mile or so, enjoying
splendid views of the town, plain, and volcanoes.
At the river Matoer, the road makes an
abrupt descent and crosses a bridge. On the far
side is an extraordinary natural fortification, a
312 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

vertical wall of rock over four hundred feet high.

This rampart was made good use of by the natives
in the Padri days, and in 1833 it was assaulted by
the Dutch troops without success for a period of
several months. It requires a close examination
to convince one that this strange wall is not an
artificial barrier constructed for the express pur
pose, which it so well serves, of guarding the river-
crossing from a hostile force. A short distance
beyond, after ascending a steep hill, the road
passes, at the top of the ridge, through a cutting
hardly wide enough to allow of the passage of two
carts abreast, and with perpendicular walls fully
forty feet high. At a hamlet beyond Matoer
village we left the ponies behind and continued
on foot for a hot half hour's walk up hill.
This drive served to confirm my surprise (if
such a phrase may be permitted) at the high
degree of cultivation and of civilization in this
region of Central Sumatra, a region that I had
always associated, in mistaken imaginings, with
jungles, wild animals, and savage tribes. This
country is more open than the mountain country of
Java, and on every hand one finds prosperous coffee
plantations, well-to-do villages, and gaily dressed,
prosperous-looking natives. This is the region of
the Malays of Menangkabau, that former empire
whose very name (buffalo victory) signifies the
superiority of its people over the Hindus of Java.
The inhabitants of these lands are of good
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 313

physique and carriage, and the women are lighter

in colour and of stronger build than their cousins
of the lowlands or of other parts of the Insulinde.
As to costumes, differences are slight, especially in
the case of the men. The dress of the highland
women is generally brighter in colour, and they
affect voluminous, white head-dresses and great
quantities of Malay gold jewelry, and almost
always cover their shoulders with the "slendang"
or scarf-like shawl, which, in the case of the rich,
is made of the native silver or gold thread fabric.
Their good looks are unfortunately marred, as a
rule, by the mutilation of their ears by the piercing
of holes from which to suspend ornaments,—a
wretched custom of savagery from which even the
occidental races have not yet been able wholly to
emancipate themselves. Besides earrings, finger
rings, bracelets, necklaces, and other articles of
jewelry are worn in profusion. These women of
the highlands have very generally an air of com
placence and self-satisfaction such as one rarely
sees in a Mahometan country. As elsewhere
in the Insulinde, there is practically no veiling of
the face, the adat being evidently more regarded
than the Koran.
At the hamlet where the ponies were left behind
we had a good chance to examine, not only a
number of faces and costumes, but also several of
the homed houses and rice barns. A far better
conception of these unique structures is obtainable
314 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

from photographs than from a verbal description,

but I shall try to supplement the pictures by a
brief mention of some of the most salient features
of their construction. The dwellings are oblong,
with the front on one of the long sides. They are
one-story high and stand several feet above the
ground, on posts or piles. The walls are of wood or
plaited bamboo, the front steps of wood, stucco-
covered brick, or stone, the windows mere openings
closed by means of shutters or screens, and the
doors plain and usual. In the better buildings an
elaborate gabled porch projects at the entrance,
and the ends of the main structure, rising in curves
like the ends of a boat, are highly carved.
It is to the roofs, however, that the highland
houses actually owe their individuality of appear
ance. The roof in its simplest form consists of a
flexible ridge-pole running lengthwise of the house,
supported only at the ends, and covered with so
heavy a load of thatch that it sags in the middle
and its top line presents the outline of a crescent ;
to-day the curves are purposely planned, and the
entire roof is often made of tin. This, the simple
type of roof, when viewed from the front or rear
of the dwelling, has something of the shape of an
exaggeratedly peaked army saddle or, to a less
degree, of the horned upper half of a cow's skull
seen from full in front. A development of the
primitive form is found in the houses with wings
at the ends, each wing necessitating an additional
 Photo by the Author
A RICE-BARN*. PADANG HIGHLANDS
V
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 315

horn or peak in the roof. The horns are usually

covered with metal in the best houses and shine
in the sun with dazzling brightness. In the less
pretentious structures they are decorated with
the black fibre of the areca palm and are much
less striking. The side-walls below these unique
roofs are sometimes carved to the last inch, and
additional embellishment is provided by ornament
ing the porch and ends with crude designs in red,
black, and white, and occasionally other colours.
The general effect cannot fail to awaken in the occi
dental mind memories of the toy Noah's arks of
childhood days.
Facing each dwelling-house there are as a rule
two small structures on high posts, which, if met
in a museum or the jungle, would probably be
taken for savage places of worship or places for
hiding the dead. These are rice barns or family
granaries, and their entrances, for better security
from men, rats, and snakes, are high up under the
gables of their horned roofs, and reached only by
the aid of ladders. The walls of these granaries
are less solid than those of the houses but even
more highly ornamented, being decorated with
bits of glass and tinsel arranged in artistic designs,
besides the carving and painting of the larger
buildings.
There are two other distinctive buildings in
every self-respecting highland village,—the ' ' balei ' '
or meeting-house, and the misigit or mosque.
316 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

The former of these,—the local council hall

where the village elders meet,—is also used as a
substitute for a hotel, and in it a visitor may
find shelter for the night as in a government
passanggrahan. It consists of one large hall, open
to front and back by day and closed by Vene
tian blinds, shutters, or screens at night. At each
end are a room or two for the caretakers. Its
roof is always of the simple, saddle type, and its
woodwork is usually elaborately carved. The
misigit more nearly resembles the type seen in
Ternate and other island settlements than the
mosque of the Asiatic mainland. Its walls rise
from a square base, and several tiers of sloping
roofs of thatch or tin, successively smaller towards
the top, culminate in a small pyramidal apex.
The more important settlements pride themselves
on misigits of brick or stucco, with side cloisters or
covered galleries, and a few of the most prosperous
are distinguished by miniature minarets, from
which the muezzins intone the solemn call to
prayer. The village graveyards are quite apart
from the houses of worship and seem to receive
little care, their plain, upright tombstones being
often broken or fallen down.
Our half-hour's walk led us through an open
country of fields and orchards and finally up a
steep path to the top of the Poentjak Boekit, an
observation point overlooking Lake Manindjau.
Here there is a shelter from which, while resting
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 317

comfortably, the visitor may gaze to his heart's

content on the exceptional panorama before and
below him.
Several hundred feet below, and a mile or two
away, stretches a sheet of blue-black water, shut
in by high mountain walls, except at one point
directly opposite, where a deep gash allows the
surplus water to escape in a river to the sea. It
is hard to believe that the dimensions of this body
of water are so great,—that it is ten miles from end
to end, and five from the shore below the obser
vation point to the cut through which the Antokan
River finds its outlet. It seems hardly possible
that the wooded walls on the far side can actu
ally be two and three thousand feet high, as they
are said to be. It is easier to understand the true
proportion of things, however, if one looks at the
diminutive village on the near shore just below.
This village, whose glittering tin roofs are but
sparkling dots amid their impressive natural sur
roundings, is over 2200 feet lower than the shelter.
Lake Manindjau is a crater lake, 1 500 feet above
the sea. It is said to be over five hundred feet deep.
The great Danau volcano, whose top has thus
curiously fallen in and formed a basin for the
lake, seems to have fallen asleep in harmless
slumber, but from time to time it gives visible
evidence that it is not yet to be classed as
wholly extinct, and its subterranean and sub
aqueous disturbances sometimes trouble the waters
318 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

of the lake to such an extent as to make it dan

gerous and even impossible for the frail native
craft to venture from the shores. Seen as we saw
it, in the gloom of a heavily clouded sky, there is
something almost unpleasant in the beauty of the
lake, and the peculiar impression of unearthliness
which we had experienced at the first sight of
Bromo and the sand sea from the Moenggal Pass
once more obtruded itself. We felt an actual
sense of relief when we had left behind us this scene
of superhuman activities and returned to the
realms of man.
At Matoer there is a Dutch " Controleur, " and,
at the house which served as his official residence
and also as a government rest-house,we had rijsta-
fel, and then drove back towards Fort de Kock by
a road leading through the villages of Simpang and
Padang-Loear, much less interesting than the one
taken on the way out. At one point, where a fair
or market was being held, we noticed a strange
circle of upright slabs of stone which reminded us
vaguely of the much larger Druid remains at
Stonehenge. The stones were in use as hitching-
posts and the charmed circle within had been
appropriated as a playground by the children.
We failed in all attempts to find out what was the
real significance of the arrangement, and at Fort de
Kock we failed to find anyone who even knew that
such a thing existed.
The harnesses and the native drivers of the
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 319

Padang Highlands are about on a par with those

of the Minahasa District. On this drive from
Matoer to Fort de Kock we had the peculiar
experience of having one of our ponies fall in such
a way that the harness was broken to bits and the
car nearly passed over him,—and all this on a
perfectly level stretch. Either the pony, or the
driver, or both, must have been asleep. It is
extraordinary that accidents are not of every-day
occurrence, with rags and ropes for harness, fools
for drivers, and half-broken ponies in the traces.
Another all-day excursion from Fort de Kock,
and second only in interest to that to Lake Man-
indjau, is the one to the Kloof or Gap of Harau,
another of the many natural wonders of this land
of the unexpected. For this trip the railway is
available as far as Pajakombo, about ten miles
from the Kloof, and one should never fail to
arrange so that the weekly fair at this village may
be seen on the way. The market train leaves
Fort de Kock at six-thirty in the morning and is
crowded to the steps with natives and their bas
kets, boxes, and bundles, and even live stock of
small size, all bound for the passar, the great event
of the week. To-day this is a pleasant holiday
trip for these people, but in the days before 1896
(the year when this section of the railway was com
pleted), when country carts and native legs were
the only means of transport, it must have required
a great expenditure of energy and hard work to
320 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

convey to market these tremendous bulks of pro

duce and merchandise, and the faces were probably
not so smiling nor the costumes so gay.
Between Fort de Kock and Pajakombo, a
journey of an hour and a half, the train runs
quickly over the levels of the plain of Agam, with
the Kamang hills to the left and Merapi to the
right; then, near Baso station, about a half-hour
after starting, enters the "Stone Field" valley,
named from the great numbers of boulders and
smaller rocks with which its floor is strewn and
which are supposed to have been ejected from the
crater of Merapi in by-gone ages. On the far side
of this valley there are said to be many fantastic
rock formations, and the limestone and chalk of
the hillsides beyond contain a number of caves
and grottoes. Before drawing up at Pajakombo
another rich plain is entered, and off to the right
is a good view of another of the great mountains,
Goenoeng Sago (7280 feet).
We had wired ahead to the little Pajakombo
hotel asking that sados or, as they are called
here, "bendies," be engaged and sent to the
station to meet the train. By doing this it was
possible to start without delay on the long drive
to the Kloof and to be back at Pajakombo in time
to see the market at its height. The road is on
the whole rather uninteresting and the vehicles are
far from comfortable. The country is fertile and
cultivated and the higher lands are covered with
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 321

coffee-trees. The houses are better than those of

the same class in the lowlands, but very few have
the horned roofs that add so much to their pictur-
esqueness. If we had not realized that the able-
bodied adults had all gone to the fair, we would
have thought that this whole region had been
given over to greybeards and children.
Our first view of the Kloof from this road was
uninspiring. As the ponies were rudely pulled up
on a long, bare stretch, particularly straight, dusty,
unshaded, and hot, and with rice-fields on each
side as far as the eye could comfortably see, the
driver pointed jubilantly to a high wall of bare
rock, which seemed to shut in the plain at its
farther end, directly ahead. There were no mount
ains, no scenic features,—only this rocky wall.
As the distance to the wall was lessened, however,
a rent in the barrier became visible, through which
the road could be seen disappearing between per
pendicular sides several hundred feet high, and
peculiar irregularities of stratification and strange
streaks and lines of colour were noticeable in these
rocky sides. We became, in spite of ourselves,
more and more impressed by the strength and
grandeur of these great natural walls that shut
in this most remarkable of natural strongholds.
A few steps beyond the portals a perfect vale of
enchantment revealed itself between the rocky
walls. To one side there is a little village on the
bank of a pretty mountain brook, and, just beyond,
 322 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

a refreshing waterfall and shady woods charm

the eye. It takes a full hour to traverse the Kloof
from end to end and agreeable surprises greet one
repeatedly in this fascinating glen. The scenery
is of the kind in which Gustave Dore would have
revelled. The Kloof is in some places as narrow as
sixty feet, in others as broad as a thousand, and
its splendid walls rise to six hundred and even a
thousand feet above the road and brook. These
inner walls have nothing of the grim bareness of
the outer ones. They have been worn by wind
and rain into many strange resemblances to
human structures,—buttresses, towers, and walls
such as one sees on the Rhine, ruined battlements,
castles, churches, all overgrown with a wild pro
fusion of vegetation. The whole Kloof is full of
scenes of great romantic beauty. No better
hiding-place for pirates, brigands, or other such
folk could be imagined, no safer lurking place for
wild animals. After an examination of the Kloof
one understands why the Padri war was of such
long duration. Such wonderful natural fastnesses
as this, duly equipped with ammunition and food
supplies, should be able to hold out for many
months against invaders without artillery.
We drove back to the Merapi Hotel for an early
rijstafel and then hurried to the great market
square. The passar of Pajakombo is, if not the
largest, the most entertaining in the Insulinde.
If not averse to bad odours one may wander
 Photos by the Author
THE ENTRANCE WALLS. GAP OF HARAU, CENTRAL SUMATRA
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 325

sacrifice of much that is unique and typical. In

every house the front door opens on an oblong hall
or living room of equal length with the middle
section of the roof or that between the central
pair of horns. Chairs, tables, chests, mats, and,
generally, Dutch-made lamps and chromos deco
rate this room. To the rear are the sleeping rooms
and kitchen, and when the houses have wings,
there are a few steps at each end of the main
apartment leading to raised sleeping rooms or
platforms, shut off by curtains. The houses
are all raised high above the ground on posts, and
this lower space is often fenced in with lattice
and used as a cellar and carriage-house, probably
sometimes even as a stable, piggery, or chicken
house, though for this last I cannot vouch.
The highland folk who occupy these ornamental
abodes are Malays and Mahometans, but their
whole system of social relations is so unique that
their racial and religious affinities become of small
moment, and are almost forgotten in the interest
awakened by the manner in which their families
are constituted and governed. The social system
is a form of matriarchate based on the "soekoe"
or clan, which is composed of the descendants
through the female line of a common ancestress.
A man or a woman on marrying does not lose mem
bership in his or her original soekoe, and the
children belong invariably to the soekoe of the
mother, instead of that of the father. The hus
326 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

band, in his relations with his wife's family (i.e.,

the wife herself, and his children) seems to be little
more than an outsider,—a necessary evil,—to be
quite disregarded ; in return, his wife and children
do not share his property or inherit his titles at his
death. The head of what in any other country
would be considered the family of a married man
is here, not the married man himself, but his
wife's oldest brother. The heirs of a married man
are not his wife and children, but his sisters and
brothers, the children of his mother, and, in failure
of these, the children of his sisters. A common
form of the marital contract provides for the
setting aside by the parents of the woman of land
of a certain agreed value, which is turned over
to their daughter at her marriage, to be cultivated
thereafter by her husband, for her benefit and
that of her children. The poor man is apparently,
aside from what property he may have of his own,
a mere labourer working for his keep. Another
peculiarity of this system makes it quite the usual
thing for a woman to continue to live in her
mother's house after marriage, her husband being
graciously permitted to live there too, by the grace,
forsooth, of his mother-in-law. What a paradise
for the much-maligned mother-in-law.
Each soekoe has its hereditary chief, by whom
family matters are controlled or said to be con
trolled. One is inclined to wonder which, in this
land of paradoxes. There is also a council of these
 THE PADANG HIGHLANDS 327

chiefs in each district, with a presiding officer who

is nominally elected, but actually appointed by the
Dutch Governor or Resident, whose government
or residency includes at once several of these dis
tricts. For the local government of the "kotas"
or village communities there is a village council,
composed of the elected heads of the various
soekoes represented in the kota, the "panghoeloes
kapala" as they are called. After all there is
something to be said in favour of a system which,
like this, leaves the woman supreme in her own
realm, the home, and the man in unquestioned
control of matters whose necessary discussion and
administration require absence from home. What
is most extraordinary is that women have been
able to secure any recognition at all in a country
where Mahometanism is practically the one
religion of the people.
Of the personal characteristics of the Malays
of Menangkabau, as in fact of all Malays wherever
found, there is little good to be said. They are
brave after the manner of fanatics, but vicious
and underhanded, hard working through necessity
rather than choice, and with no ambition, as a rule,
to add to their fund of knowledge or to improve
their characters. Beyond the necessities and the
simplest creature comforts, there is nothing with
which the Malay is familiar to tempt him to
extraordinary exertions or to call forth his best
abilities. Clothing, house, and food are all of low
328 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

cost, and the villages are in no way dependent on

supplies or labour from beyond their own confines.
Fish, fowl, curry and rice, eggs, vegetables, and
fruit, shrimp spawn dried in the sun and beaten
with salt and water into a sort of paste, and "ding-
ding, " or carbo flesh salted and sun-dried, are
his principal articles of diet, the cultivation of the
crops his usual employment, and bird-fighting and
gambling his favourite forms of amusement.
To the north of the Padang Highlands dwell
half a million or more of the half-civilised Bataks, a
cannibal people of weird customs and beliefs, until
quite recently almost unknown and unheard of.
They eat human flesh, not from any fondness for
it as food, it is said, but with the idea that in so
doing they are perpetuating the man eaten by in
corporating him in their own living bodies. They
also believe that by eating the heart of a brave
enemy they will become endued with the bravery
of the victim.
 CHAPTER XVIII

PORTS OF NORTH SUMATRA—THE END OF THE

JOURNEY

BEFORE taking our departure by steamer for

the north we passed two sweltering nights
and a day in Padang, where through the courtesy
of the American Consular representative I was
put in touch with a native trapper who had just
arrived in town with several fresh tiger skins.
After the usual palaver and bargaining I found
myself in possession of two fairly good skins with
skulls, whiskers, teeth, and claws intact,—at a cost
of twenty dollars gold. A very different and most
exasperating experience was that with the local
Chinese "portret" man or photographer to whom
I had entrusted my films for development. This
wretch had carelessly hung the drying films within
reach of his inquisitive small boy and nearly all
were ruined by finger-marks. Such accidents are
sufficiently irritating anywhere, but in Sumatra,
where it is practically impossible to buy photo
graphs of either costumes or scenery, they are
positively infuriating.
329
330 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Returning to Emmahaven by rail we boarded

the little express steamer "Coen, " bound for the
ports of Achin, and Penang, the British island at
the north end of the Malacca Straits. The slower
steamers which stop at various small ports on
their way north, enjoy the benefit of a course
which keeps them for the greater part of their way
in the lee of the line of islands which stretch along
the coast; the "Coeii" headed boldly for the open
sea directly on leaving Wilhelmina Bay, and in a
few hours her thirteen hundred tons were being
tossed about most thoroughly on the restless
waves of the Indian Ocean. The voyage to
Oelee-Lheue, the first stop, is a matter of about
forty-eight hours, but fortunately at a little past
the half-way point, Cape Lebong, the north-west
promontory of the island of Nias, there are a few
hours of quiet as the steamer skirts the lee shores
of Babi Island.
Nias is the largest island off the west coast of
Sumatra, and, according to a Dutch missionary to
the Niassais whom we chanced to meet at Fort de
Kock, it is still in an almost wholly uncivilized
condition. It is inhabited by about a quarter
of a million natives of a low grade of intelligence,
for the most part fishermen or agriculturists, who
worship the phallic emblem and various hideous
household gods, and live in constant fear of evil
spirits. In the interior districts they are said, even
at the present day, to bury their chiefs with rites
7,
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7.
Z

z
<
H
a
 NORTH SUMATRA PORTS 331

involving human sacrifice, to kill twins, to be

afraid of altmos, and to adorn family habitations
with the skills of their enemies. Though filthy
in personal habits the high chiefs of the Niassais
array themselves for ceremonials in costumes
valued at over a thousand dollars each. Such
people as these would seem to be far more fit
subjects for missionary effort than those who,
like the Japanese and Chinese, have already a high
form of civilization of their own, and are quite as
law-abiding and well-behaved as Europeans or
Americans of similar employment or position.
The second morning after leaving Emmahaven
we anchored off Oelee-Lheue, having passed as we
turned in to the anchorage a couple of tall masts
projecting above the water and marking the grave
of a large ship that ran on the reef some fifteen
or twenty years ago. The dangers of navigation
in these treacherous waters are borne upon one
continually by the wrecks that one sees in so many
of the ports of the archipelago. Our admiration
increases daily for the fearless captains who sailed
these uncharted seas in their bold voyages of
discovery, and for the able men of to-day who take
their ships through these perils as a mere matter
of daily routine. The modern captains deserve
far greater praise than they generally receive, for
they have not only the perils of the sea to guard
against but the unreliable, irresponsible nature
of their native crews, an element of danger as
332 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

great almost as that of the reefs. On one of the

steamers on which we cruised in the seas of the
archipelago I was given a striking illustration of
the lazy shiftlessness of the Malay sailor, an officer
calling me to the bridge to show me one of the
native helmsmen asleep at his post. It is easy to
understand that officers occasionally lose temper
and treat these men not over-tenderly.
Oelee-Lheue, Oleh Leh, or Uleieh Leueh is the
port of the capital town of Achin, Kota Radja,
and the two settlements are connected by a
narrow-gauge railway line, here called a tram,
which continues beyond Kota Radja to the east
coast. The ride from port to capital takes an
hour and a half, the tracks running a large part
of the way on an embankment, with swamps on
either side. Kota Radja on various occasions dur
ing the long-drawn-out Achin war was the scene
of desperate fighting. To-day, with a native pop
ulation of but 4000, its rulers dead or deported,
and its kraton occupied by a garrison of Dutch
colonial troops, the town has lost all that made
it interesting and seems likely to die of inanition
while enjoying the blessings of tranquillity and
peace. The port is of quite recent growth. It has
a fine sea-wall and a jetty, a few European offices,
go-downs, and residences, Chinese stores, and the
inevitable straggling kampongs. The site is low
and unhealthy, but there is evidently higher,
healthier country in the interior, for we could see
 NORTH SUMATRA PORTS 333

in the distance the northern end of the mountain

range that forms the backbone of the great island.
On leaving Oelee-Lheue the steamer headed
north once more, glided over glassy waters for
four hours to the little island of Weh or Way
(Poeloe Weh) and entered the bay of Sabang, the
only important settlement of the island, and a
coaling and transfer station of the Dutch East
Indian steamers. During this little ferry trip
land was never lost sight of and the smoothness
of the sea was a much appreciated surprise and
change.
Sabang is a neat and rather small settlement at
the far end of a fine bay nearly enclosed by low,
rolling hills. We tied up alongside a wharf from
which the principal objects within our range of
vision were coal go-downs. Going ashore we found
a main street of shops and offices, with sign-boards
at nearly every corner, not only giving the names of
the streets in both Dutch and English but also
pointing out the direction of the post-office and
other public buildings and places of interest. On
the hillside above are the hotel, the residences
of the foreigners, and the quarters of the troops,
and a little higher an observation tower offers a
splendid view over the town and bay.
Sabang has been under the full control of the
Dutch for only some thirty-five or forty years, but
its future is already promising, and, although its
present population is under a thousand, the more
334 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

optimistic of its friends prophesy for it a rapid

growth and declare that it will some day be a
rival of Penang and even of Singapore in shipping
and commercial importance. At present the vis
itor is perhaps most struck by the predominance
of the European element. The Malays are, as
so often, an almost negligible quantity, and the
Chinese seem less prominent than in other ports
of the Insulinde.
A mile or two from the settlement there is a
pretty lake or pond, a charming spot when one
is once there, but a long, hot walk over a road
almost without shade. Hideous telegraph wires
cross this road repeatedly, and to the wires are
attached the webs of enormous, venomous-look
ing spiders. Along this road, besides the usual
banana, palm, and rubber trees, there are wild
flowers in profusion and many specimens of the
gay "flame of the jungle." Beautiful blue-
winged birds and huge, gaudy butterflies served
in some measure to drive from our minds the
ugliness of the spiders.
The "Coen" made a stop of about twelve hours
at Sabang and then returned to Oelee-Lheue for
an hour or two before continuing on her voyage
to the east. A new cabin passenger amused us
while in the latter port by shooting with a revolver
at the sharks which swarmed about the ship in
dozens. Four more hours of absolutely smooth
sailing brought us to the anchorage of Sigli, a
 NORTH SUMATRA PORTS 335

supply port for the army of occupation and a

station on the strategic railway which we had
already seen at its north-western terminus. There
is nothing whatever to be seen in Sigli to repay one
for the difficulty of going ashore. The country
of this neighbourhood is flat, swampy, and in
every way thoroughly uninviting, and the native
Achinese that came out to the ship were the
dirtiest and the most thoroughly villainous-
looking lot that we had met with so far in the
Insulinde. A few years ago the captain of a
large Chinese trading steamer was murdered on
his bridge by a crowd of these cut-throats, while
his steamer was lying at anchor off this village.
The inhabitants of this northern end of Sumatra
are probably the worst of all the natives of the
islands in the Insulinde, with the exception of the
savages of New Guinea and other absolutely un
tutored, uncivilized, wild men. In these Achinese
every oriental vice seems abnormally over-deve
loped and every occidental virtue conspicuously
lacking. They boast their Hindu ancestry and
declare the founder of the kingdom of Atjeh to
have been a direct descendant of Alexander the
Great, but these facts, if true, merely accentuate
the degradation and degeneracy of the present
decadent representatives of a famous stock.
Those in the best position to judge are practically
unanimous in characterizing the highland Achin
ese as unscrupulous, fanatic, warlike brigands, and
336 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

those of the coast as vicious, servile, treacherous

thieves. The early travellers had much to say
of the splendour of the Achinese king and court and
of the royal elephants. To-day there is no longer
anything to remind one of these days of native
prosperity, and the visitor rarely sees a tame
elephant in any one of the coast villages, though
it is probably true that many of the inland kam-
pongs pride themselves on the possession of one
or more of the huge brutes, which they keep at
the public expense and regard as local mascots
or pledges of good fortune. The interior regions
doubtless furnish pasturage for countless herds of
wild elephants as well as other big game, and, when
the natives have become more friendly to foreign
ers and more reliable, it seems likely that a new
hunting district as important as that of British
East Africa will be thrown open to the world.
The north-coast ports of Sumatra proved by
far the least interesting spots that we had seen in
the Insulinde. At Sigli the only novel or amusing
sight was the drawing of the nets by the fisher
men. While the nets are spread the catch is
protected from the birds by fish-herds in little
shelters on piles beside the nets, but the moment
that the nets are raised and the fish are actually
in sight the temptation proves too great and the
winged marauders swoop down and fight for their
share of the spoils, generally with considerable
success.
 Photo by Carr M. Thomas
UNLOADING CATTLE, SUMATRAN COAST

Photo by Carr M. Thomas

SUMATRAN RAILWAY TRAIN AT KWALA LANGSA
 NORTH SUMATRA PORTS 337

The last two stops of the steamer were productive

of even less satisfactory results than that at Sigli.
At Lho Seumawe, in an atmosphere of malaria
and fever, there is a small settlement of Euro
peans and a large colony of Chinese, but not a
single attractive feature, natural or artificial. We
stopped for a day to discharge cargo and to take
on a consignment of three large bags of peanuts
and a Chinese passenger. At Kwala Langsa
there was not even a settlement to be seen,—only
a toy station of the narrow-gauge railway, a cattle
pen, and a half dozen filthy, rotting, frame shan
ties built over pools of fetid slime and inhabited
by sallow, pock-marked Chinese. The approach to
Kwala Langsa is through a deep bay, and a number
of thickly wooded islands add a redeeming touch
of beauty to the otherwise depressing monotony of
mangrove swamps and dirty water. The town,
of which the railway station and a wharf form the
port, is at some distance.
It seemed a pity to leave the glorious island of
Sumatra thus, by the back door, past the rubbish
heap and the cesspool. These wretched Achinese
ports do damage to one's impressions and almost
obliterate for the time one's recollections of the
magnificent highlands, and I would unreservedly
recommend travellers to omit the north coast from
their itinerary. The lower east coast is far better
worth visiting and the town of Palembang, the
"Venice of Sumatra," must be unique in its way.
338 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

This city of over 60,000 people lies on the banks

of the Moesi River. Part of its houses are built
on high piles over the water of the river and the
side canals and streams; part on rafts, like the
floating houses of Ayuthia, Siam. The buildings
are said to be, many of them, painted with bright
colours and ornamented with elaborate carving.
Another east-coast town, Medan, is wholly modern
and the centre of the tobacco interests. From
it one may reach the great lake of Toba and pay
a visit to the home of the Bataks, probably the
most interesting of the native peoples of Sumatra.
From Kwala Langsa it is a steam of from
twelve to eighteen hours at slow speed across the
Straits of Malacca to the island of Penang. The
" Coen " left the coast of Sumatra early in the after
noon and when we awoke next morning we were
anchored in British waters and our Dutch skipper,
seated on the rear rail in his pyjamas, had resigned
himself to the congenial occupation of fishing,
with evident distaste for the bustle and commo
tion of the foreign harbour and a superior disdain
for its conventions and customs,—a true type of a
sensible, unaffected, independent people.
Our wanderings in the Insulinde were over all too
soon. In fifteen weeks of travel in the Dutch pos
sessions we met with unfailing courtesy and kind
ness at the hands of all the Hollanders with whom
we came in contact by chance or introduction,
and in their wonderful island colony we enjoyed
 NORTH SUMATRA PORTS 339

a succession of delightful surprises and pleasur

able experiences such as I hardly think could be
duplicated in any other part of the world. I
know of no regions of more lovely and more varied
scenery, as I have said before, and of no lands
where so much that is strange and unusual may
be seen at so little risk and with so little discom
fort. The beauties and wonders of these islands
of volcanoes and spices are typical and unique of
their kind, and even the most blase traveller can
hardly fail to be aroused to enthusiasm by their
alluring charms. For myself, I can only say that
my visit to the marvellous Insulinde and its
mountains and jungles, its garden cities and ruins,
will always stand out in the dreamland of agree
able memories as one of the few never-to-be-for
gotten experiences in many years of travel.
 APPENDIX

ADMINISTRATIVE DIVISIONS, ETC.

NETHERLANDS India is a crown colony, and

its administration is theoretically carried
on by the throne of Holland, acting through
a Colonial Secretary and a Governor-General and
Council appointed by it. Its administration is
regulated by the Dutch East India Administration
Regulations, a sort of constitution for the Indies
granted in 1854. Foreign relations are taken
care of by the home government, the heads of
the colonial army and navy are appointed by the
throne, and all matters having to do with the
alienation of territory, incurrence of public debt,
or changes in established legal rights are subject
to the approval of the home parliament. The
Governor-General is, in practice, elected by the
Council. His term of office is five years and his
emoluments amount to over seventy thousand
dollars gold a year, a liberal travelling allowance,
and the free use of the palaces at Weltevreden,
Buitenzorg, and Tjipanas in the Preangers. The
341
342 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

Council is in theory a consultative body, but in

reality wields great power. It is at present com
posed of five members and sits weekly at Weltevre-
den to discuss and in point of fact to determine,
subject to the approval of the Governor-General,
all affairs of governmental policy and administra
tion. Under it are a number of general depart
ments or bureaus, such as those of Finance,
Justice, Agriculture, etc.
For administrative purposes, Netherlands India
is divided into (i) Java and Madoera, (2) The
Outer Possessions.
The first of these, Java and Madoera, is subdi
vided into the following Provinces or Residencies :
Bantam, Batavia, the Preangers, and Cheribon,
in Western Java; Pekalongan, Semarang, Ban-
joemas, Kedoe, Djokjakarta, Solo or Soerakarta,
Rembang, and Madioen in Central Java; Soera-
baya, Kediri, Pasoeroean, and Besoeki, in Eastern
Java; and the island of Madoera. All of these
provinces with the exception of Solo and Djokja
are under native regents or "adipatis. " The
exceptions, the " Vorstenlanden, " are under a
native Susuhunan and a native Sultan respec
tively. In each case a Dutch Resident advises
the native sovereign or regent. The "adipatis"
are appointed by the Governor-General and receive
about six thousand dollars gold a year; the Susu
hunan of Solo receives over three hundred and
sixty thousand dollars and the Sultan of Djokja
 APPENDIX 343

over two hundred thousand, but the taxes and

monopolies of these two monarchs are given up to
the Dutch.
The second division of Netherlands India,
the Outer Possessions, embraces the Dutch terri
tories in Borneo and New Guinea, and the great
islands of Sumatra and Celebes, besides all the
smaller islands of the archipelago. It is divided
into Governments and Residencies, the Govern
ments being superior to the Residencies and in at
least one case including several of these last. The
Governments are as follows: (1) Celebes (or the
south of the island and the smaller islands off
the coast) ; (2) Atjeh (or North Sumatra) ; and (3)
the West Coast of Sumatra (including the Padang
Highlands, directly under the Governor, and the
two Residencies of Padang Lowlands and Tapan-
uli). The Residencies proper are as follows:
1. West Borneo. Capital, Pontianak.
2. South and East Borneo. Capital, Bandjer-
masin.
3. Menado (North Celebes). Capital, Menado.
4. Ternate (North Moluccas). Capital, Ter-
nate. (This includes West New Guinea.)
5. Amboina (South Moluccas). Capital, Am
bon. (This includes the Bandas, Aroes, etc.)
6. Timor and Dependencies. Capital, Kup-
ang. (Including Flores and the lesser Sundas.)
7. Bali and Lombok. Capital, Boelelang.
8. Bencoelen (Sumatra). Capital, Bencoelen.
344 JAVA AND HER NEIGHBOURS

9. The Lampong Districts (Sumatra). Capi

tal, Telok Betong.
10. Palembang (Sumatra). Capital, Palem-
bang.
11. Sumatran East Coast. Capital, Medan.
12. Rhiouw Lingga Archipelago.. Capital,
Tandjong Priok.
13. Banka (island). Capital, Muntok.
Governors receive about 7300 and Residents
about 6100 dollars a year, and, in addition, houses
and allowances for travelling and entertaining are
given to both classes of officials.
 PLACE AND NAME INDEX
This Ind^x is limited to names of places and natural features
in Netherlands India and names of persons connected with the
discovery, history, or exploration of Netherlands India.
The Dutch spelling "oe" has generally been used, even when
often transliterated in English "ou" or "u. "

Banda Islands, 108, 147, 167,

172-80, 195, 343
Abreu, Antonio de, 144 Bandjar, 242
Achin, 21, 115, 281, 282-3, 285, Bandjermasin, 52, 106, 107,
286, 330-7, 343 343
Agam Plain, 307-8, 320 Bandoeng, 199, 260-2, 267
Albuquerque, Alfonso de, 26, Bangka Islands, 140
144, 280 Banjoemas, 342
Ambarawa, 198, 199, 201 Banka, 37, 83, 344
Amboina Residency, 166, 343 Bantam, 17, 57, 58, 283, 288,
Ambon, 147, 164-172, 176, 343 342
Amboyna, Amboin, see Ambon Bara, Bay of, 163
Anai, see Aneh Barison Mts., 276, 290
Aneh River and Valley, 304-6 Barros, de, 11 1
Anok River, 310, 311 Baso, 320
Antokan River, 317 Batavia, 17, 28, 29, 34, 38, 40,
Apenberg, 300, 302 Chap. II., Chap. III., 69,
Aroe Islands, 107, 343 85, 87, 102, 103, 146, 151,
Aru Islands, see Aroe Is. 182, 199, 241, 260, 273, 287,
Asahan River, 277 342
Atjeh, see Achin Batavia Residency, 264, 342
Ay, Island, 173 Batchian, see Batjan
Ayer Madidi, 137 Batjan, 143, 159-62
Ayer Mandjoer, 306 Batoe Kapal, 173
Batoe Lobang, 170-1
B Batoe Toelis, 84
Batok, Mt., 190-3
Bah, 7, 17, 21, 52, 108-9, 228, Batuta, Ibn, 279
300, .143 Bencoelen, 292-6, 343
Balikpalppan, 119-20 Bentoehan, 292
345
346 PLACE AND NAME INDEX
Besoeki, 342 Dieng Plateau, 221
Billiton, 37 Dipo Negoro, 21, 201
Boekit Tinggi, 311 Djambi, 283, 287
Boekit Poentjak, 316 Djambi River, 277
Boelelang, 108, 109, 181, 343 Djokjakarta, or Djokja, 54,
Boeroe, 162, 163-4 95, 100, 198, 199, 203, 214,
Boeton, 1 80-1 215, 216, 217, 220, 221,
Bongso, Mt., 295 Chap. XII, 241, 242, 342
Boni, 21, 114. Drake, Sir Francis, 15, 16
Boni, Bay of, no Dutch East India Co., see
Borneo, 2, 3, 21, 52, 106, 107, Oest Indische Compagnie
no, 119-20, 122, 181, 275,
343 E
Boro Boedoer, 198, 203, 204-
13, 214, 216, 219 East India Co. (Dutch), see
Both, Admiral, 58 Oest Indische Compagnie
Bourou, see Boeroe East India Co. (English), 18,
Bouton, see Boeton 19, 281
Britto, de, 144 Edam Island, 288
Bromo, Mt., 188, 189-95,318 Ello River, 202
Buitenzorg, 52, 69, 79-84, 182, Emmahaven, 288, 296, 297-9,
264, 266, 271, 341 302. 33°. 33i
Erberfeld, Pieter, 62-3

Cape Vlakke Hoek, see Vlakke

Hoek Flores, 107, 343
Castle Lake, see Laguna Cas- Fort de Kock, 303, 306, 307,
tello 308-24
Celebes, 2, 3, 21, 26, 103,
Chap. VI., Chap. VII., 140, G
154. 168, 343
Ceram, 172, 181 Galoenggoeng Mt., 243, 248
Cheribon, 85, 88, 89, 343 Galvao, 15
Coen, Governor, 53, 58, 59 Gama, Vasco de, II, 26
Conti, di, 279 Garoet, 186, 241, 243-50
Gedeh, Mt. (of Bantam), 288
D Gedeh, Mt. (of Preangers) , 263,
264, 268, 269, 271
Daendals, Marshall, 23, 48, Gedong Djati, 199
231, 265, 283 Gilolo, see Halmaheira
Dammer Islands, 107 Goa, 1 17-18
Danau Volcano, 317 Goenoeng Goentoer, see Goen-
Davis, John, 281 toer, Mt.
Deli, 283, 286 Goenoeng Misigit, see Misigit,
Demak, 6 Mt.
Dempo Mt., 295 Goentoer, Mt., 244, 248, 249,
Dessar, the, 190, 193 250 j
 PLACE AND NAME INDEX 347
Kratjak Mt., 248
Krawang, 262
Halmaheira, 141, 143 Kuiper Island, 288
Hamangkoe Boewono I., IV., Kupang, 343
and VII., 229, 231, 233, 235, Kwala Langsa, 337, 338
236
Harau, Gap or Kloof of, 319-22
Haroeman Mt., 248
Henry, Prince of Portugal, Laboeka, 159-61
9-10 Laguna Castello, 155-6
Houtman, Cornelius, 16-17, Lampongs, 283, 289, 344
57, 281, 282 Lancaster, 281
Lebong, Cape, 330
Lebua, Mt., 159
Leles, 243
Ider Ider Mts., 191 Lembang, 262
Indrapoera Mt., 297 Lho Seumaw£, 337
Indragiri River, 277 Lingga Islands, 344
Island Hill, 310, 311 Lisan, Gat van, 179
Lokon, Mt., 129
Lombok, 21, 343
Loro Djonggrang Temples,
Jacatra, 57-9 216-19
Java Minor, 279
Java Sea, 88, 101, 268, 275 M
Junghuhn, 262
M Islands, 158-9
Macassar, 99, 108, 109, ill,
112-17, 119, 122, 148, 166,
Kaba Mt., 295 181
Kaioa Islands, 159 Macassar Straits, 119
Kajeli, 164 Madioen, 342
Kali Mas (river), 1 01 Madjapahit, 6, 7, 98, 109, 224
Kamang Caves, 324 Madoera, 54, 101, 102, 103
Kamang Hills, 320 Magelang, 198, 202-3
Kandang Badak, 269, 271 Magellan, Ferdinand, 12-13,
Karbouwengat, 310, 311 16, 18, 26, 144
Kasoer Hill, 268 Malacca Straits, 275, 330, 338
K<5 Islands, 175 Malik al Salah, see Marah Silu
Kediri, 342 Makkian, 158-9
Kedoe, 202, 342 Mandeville, 26, 280
Kema, 123, 138 Manindjau, Lake, 277, 311,
Kisser Islands, 107 316-18, 319
Klabat Mt., 122, 140 Manna, 292, 295
Kloof of Harau, see Harau Maos, 242
Kota Baroe, 307, 324 Marah Silu, 279
Kota Radja, 283, 332 Mareh, 158
Krakatfoa Volcano, 290-1 Marco Polo, see Polo
348 PLACE AND NAME INDEX
Marok, 298 Oest Indische Compagnie, 18-
Mataram, 6, 98, 99, 100, 222, 19, 58, 146
224 Ombi Islands, see Obi Islands
Matoer, 312, 318, 319 Onrust, 288
Matoer River, 311
Medan, 286, 338, 344
Meester Cornells, 70
Menado, Chap. VII., 140, 166, Pacheco, 280
343 Padalarang, 262
Menangkabau, 283-4, 312, Padang, 276, 286, 287, 288,
325-8 293. 299-302, 303, 306, 308,
Mendoet Temple, 203, 213-14, 3».329
216 Padang Aran River, 301
Merapi, Mt. (of Java), 202, Padang Highlands, 277, 283,
220, 224 Chap. XVII., 343
Merapi, Mt. (of Sumatra), 306, Padang Idel River, 301
307. 320. 324 Padang Loear, 318
Merbaboe, Mt., 202 Padang Lowlands, 343
Michaelis, General, 53, 300 Padang Pandjang, 307, 324
Minahasa, Chap. VII., 140, Padjajaram, 84, 98, 224
319 Padjagalan, 256, 258
Misigit, Mt., 262 Pajakombo, 306, 311, 319-20,
Moenggal Pass, 189-92, 193, 322
195,318 Pajo, 307
Moesi River, 277, 296, 338 Paleleh, 121
Molucca Islands, 2, 11-16, 108, Palembang, 277, 283, 287, 296,
139, Chaps. VIII. and IX., 337-8, 344
343 Pangerango, 268, 271
Molucca Passage, 108, 140 Paoeli Caves, 324
Motir, 158 Papandajan, Mt., 248, 250,
Muntok, 344 253-9
Pasargede, 221-3
N Pasay, 280
Pasoeroean, 183, 184, 342
Pasrepan, 185
Nagrek Pass, 260 Pawan Tjandi, 213
New Guinea, 2, 21, 108, no, Pedir, 280
150, 161, 172, 175, 177, 275, Poeloe Weh, see Well Island
335. 343 Poentjak Boekit, see Boekit
Nias, 330-1 Poentjak
Poentjak Pass, 264-7, 268, 271
Poespo, 185
Polo, Marco, 8, 26, 279, 280
Obi Islands, 162, 163 Pontianak, 343
Odoricus, 26, 279 Prambanan, 215-21
Oetee-Lheue, 330, 331, 332-3 Preanger Regencies, Chaps.
Oembilin, 306 XIII. and XIV., 305, 341.
Oepak River, 216 342
 PLACE AND NAME INDEX 349
Spice Islands, see Moluccas
Stone Field Valley, 320
Raffles, Sir Stamford, 20, 23, Spermunde Archipelago, 119
24, 32, 81, 207, 282, 293 Sumatra, I, 2, 4, 11, 21, 26, 29,
Rakata, see Krakatoa no, 206, Chaps. XV., XVI.,
Rarahan, 268 XVII., and XVIII.
Rembang, 342 Sunda Straits, 275, 289
Rhiouw Islands, 344 Sunda Islands, 343
Rumphius, 172 Swaardecron, Governor, 61
Run Island, 173

Sabang, 333-4 Takome, 157

Sago, Mt., 320 Tandikat, Mt., 306
Salak Mt., 38, 80, 288 Tandjong Pagar, 33
Saleier Straits, 181 Tandjong Priok, 34, 38-40
Sawah Loento, 306 Tangkoeban Prahoe, Mt., 248,
Sedakling Mt., 248 261-2
Semarang, 85, 88, 89-92, 199, Tapanuli, 343
342 Tebing Tinggi, 296
Sequeira, 280 Telega Bodas, 256-8
Sewoe, Tjandi, 219-20 Telega Warna, 266, 271
Siak, 283 Tello River, 116
Si-Anok, see Anok River Telok Betong, 289, 291, 344
SigH. 334-5. 336-7 Tengger Mts., 85, 175, Chap.
Simpang, 318 X., 244
Sindanglaya, 186, 263-71 Ternate, 16, Chap. VIII., 158,
Singaradja, 108 166, 343
Singgalong, Mt., 306, 307 Ternate Mt., 141, 156-7
Singkarah, Lake, 277, 306, 307 Tidore Mt., 141, 155, 158
Sinjintsin, 303-4 Timor, 21, 107, 343
Sitoe Bagendit (lake), 245, Tissakmalaya, 242-3
247-8, 259, 267 Tjandi Pawan, see Pawan
Smeroe Mt., 190-1, 244 Tjandi Sewoe, see Sewoe
Soekaboemi, 182, 272, 273 Tjiamis, 242
Soela Islands, 162 Tjiandjoer, 262-3, 272
Soembing, Mt., 202 Tjibatoe, 243, 260
Soerabaya, 61, 85, 101-5, 106, Tjibeureum, Falls of, 270
108, 109, 181, 182, 184, 196, Tjibodas, Fall of, 270
198, 199, 241, 260, 288, 342 Tjidani River, 80
Soerakarta, 54, 90, 92-101, Tjikoendal, Fall of, 270
109, 198, 199, 215, 222, 225, Tjikorai, Mt., 248
232, 241, 342 Tjilatjap, 242
Solo, see Soerakarta Tjiliwong (river), 39, 52, 56,
Solo River, 196 84
Sombat, Bay of, 292 Tjipanas (near Garoet), 248,
Sondoro, Mt., 202 249
35° PLACE AND NAME INDEX
Tjipanas (Sindanglaya), 267- W
8,341
Tjiparoegpoeg (river), 254 Wallace, Alfred R., 2-3, 130-1,
Tjisoeroepan, 250, 253 161, 172
Tjitjalengka, 260 Weh Island, 333
Tjondi, 90-1 Weltevreden, 40, Chap. II.,
Toba, Lake, 277, 338 57, 262, 273, 341, 342
Tolo, Bay of, 1 10 Wetter Islands, 107
Tomini, Bay of, no Wilhelmina Bay, 297-8, 301,
Tomohon, 132 330
Tondano, 132-5
Tonsea Lama, Falls of, 133 X
Tosari, Chap. X.
Trogong, 248 Xulla Islands, see Soela Islands
Tua Menado, Mt., 122
Y
Yugyakarta, see Djokjakarta
Van den Bosch, 24
Varthema, Ludovico di, 280 Z
Vasco de Gama, see Gama
Vlakke Hoek, Cape, 291, 292 Zonnegat, 173-4

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