ALBERT R. MANN LIBRARY Cornett UNIVERSITY Gift of Wiliam E. Davis, Jr. Cornell University The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924090283775 wna iny NORTH CELEBES PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON (az18 /DANLDN } WYSLNAYISOM SNWIVHLHAOldSad A NATURALIST IN NORTH CELEBES A NARRATIVE OF TRAVELS IN MINAHASSA, THE SANGIR AND TALAUT SLANDS, WITH NOTICES OF THE FAUNA, FLORA AND ETHNOLOGY OF THE DISTRICTS VISITED By SYDNEY J. HICKSON M.A. (cantas.), D.Sc. (nonp.), M.A. (oxoN.) HON. caus. FELLOW OF DOWNING COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE: FELLOW OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY “To sit on rocks, to muse o’er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest’s shady scene, Where things that own not man’s dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne’er or rarely been; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold; Alone o’er steeps and falling foams to lean ; This is not Solitude; ‘tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled’ Childe Harold WITH MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS LONDON JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET 1889 All rights reserved PREFACE —+ Tue journey I took to the Malay Archipelago in the year 1885 with the object of investigating the anatomy and, if possible, the development of certain corals, afforded me opportunities of studying the general fauna of some of the small islands in the tropical seas, and of learning something of the races of human beings I came in contact with. I have brought together in this volume some ex- tracts from the journal of my wanderings in North Celebes, the Sangir and Talaut Islands, a more de- tailed account of the fauna of the small island called Talisse, situated in the Straits of Banka, and a sum- mary of our knowledge of the ethnology of the district of Minahassa. So much of the ground I travelled over during my visit to the Malay Archipelago has been made familiar to English readers by the works of Wallace, Forbes, and Guillemard, that I have but a small area left to describe from the pages of my own journal. But, though the area is small, it is from its geo- graphical position one of striking interest alike to the biologist, the geologist, and the ethnologist. In describing the fauna of the forests and coral vi A NATURALIST IN CHELEBES reefs at Talisse I have avoided as far as possible technical details of form and structure. The animals I call attention to are those I came across in my daily excursions in the forests and on the reefs. I have not attempted to give a complete list of species known to occur in Celebes of any order of the animal king- dom. Such lists may be found in the works of some of the eminent naturalists mentioned in the biblio- graphy at the end of the book. During the few months I was resident in any particular district, it was impossible for me to acquire more than a few words of the local dialects, and I could consequently learn but little of the various prevalent myths, songs, and customs directly from the natives. I am indebted to the kindness of many of the missionaries, officials, and Malay-speaking natives for the few scraps of information I am able to record asnew. ‘The greater part of the ethnological portion of the book is borrowed from the valuable writings to be found in many of the reports of missionary and other societies, and in Dutch periodicals. Although many of the stories and poems have undoubtedly suffered considerably in the double translation from the local dialect into Dutch and from Dutch into English, I hope they remain suffi- ciently true to the originals to indicate to the reader their general characteristics. For the convenience of students I have given a classification of all the animals and plants I have re- ferred to in these pages, and a list of the more im- PREFACE vil portant books and papers from which I have borrowed materials. In the Index I have given translations of many of the Dutch, Malay, and local words and ex- pressions to be found in the text. The kindness and assistance I received from the Dutch officials and merchants, wherever I travelled, contributed greatly to my comfort and opportunities for research. It would be impossible for me to mention here the names of all those who directly or indirectly assisted me in my work, but I am more particularly indebted to the Jkhr. van der Wyck, formerly Resident of Manado; the Dominie Wielandt, the Controleur van Rouveroy van Nieuwaal, Mr. de Vries of Manado, and Mr. Rijkschroeff of Kelelonde. In preparing this volume for the press I have been greatly aided by the valuable advice and assistance of many of my friends. Of these I am specially indebted to Dr. E. B. Tylor of Oxford, Professors Wilken and Riedel, Captain Maclear, R.N., the late Rev. Tenison-Woods, Dr. Guillemard, and Dr. G. H. Fowler. I have also to thank many kind friends in the museums and libraries of Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Leiden, and Utrecht; the officials of the British Museum and the library of the India Office; and the Directors of the Moluksche Handels Vennootschap, for much valuable help and many useful suggestions. Downine COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE : October 1889. CONTENTS CHAPTER I FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES Arrival at Makassar—Objects of my visit to Celebes—Area and physical features of the island—Makassar—Private theatricals—‘ Running amuck ’—Sail for Manado—Beauty of the coast scenery—Manado Bay—lInterview with the Resident of Manado—Etiquette —News of H.M.S. ‘Flying Fish ’—The Government of the district—The inhabitants—Start for Talisse—Unpunctuality of the Malay races —Whistling for the wind—Talisse coral reefs—Koa—H.M.S. ‘ Fly- ing Fish’ . : , : F ¢ x . ‘ - 3 CHAPTER II ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ The characteristics of Talisse Sea—Babirusa hunt—Characters of the forest—The flora— The fauna—Luncheon on the sea-shore—Sand- pipers— Race with a native prau— Visit to Bohoi Promontory—The shore platform—The character of the coral reefs—Conditions favourable to coral growth—Practical importance of the knowledge of the conditions favourable to coral growth —Bohoi Bay—Flight of the natives—Jumping crabs and fishes—Periophthalmus—Limbé Island—Batu Kapal—Rooper Point—Wallace Bay—Manado . CHAPTER III ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH '—continued Sail for Ruang—Visit to the Rajah and the missionary of Tagulandang —Return to Tindela—Back again to the Ruang—‘ Loods ’—Attempt - to walk round the Ruang Island—Maleos—Ascent of the voleano— Fauna of the woods—The lip of the crater—Magnificent view of the neighbouring islands—Refusal of our guides to proceed to the rs PAGE 17 x A NATURALIST IN CELEBES highest point—Recent history of the Ruang—The lava roads —The descent— Difficulties of the collector—Biarro—Tanjong Aros—Caves —Edible birds’ nests—The foam of the sea—Pollicipes—Disticho- pora—Farewell to the ‘ Flying Fish’ : p * , CHAPTER IV TALISSE ISLAND Reasons for settling in this island—Inhabitants and topography of the island—Every-day life in the island—Surface dredging—The ‘ Pan- churan ’—Work on the reefs—Food—Temperature and barometric pressure—Insect pests—Evening amusements—The coolies— Diseases of the natives—My house—Attap—The gardens—Deer- kraal—Hill climbing—Mangrove swamps—Collecting orchids—The plantations—Planting coco-nuts—Ebony—Kinabohutan—Pirates— Banka, Tindela, and Ganga—Absence of coral reefs on shores ex- posed to the N.N.E.—Our visitors—The ae iat songs— The ‘ Minahassa ’’—An Arab é : ‘ CHAPTER V FAUNA OF TALISSE Mammals-—Babirusa and sapiutan both absent—The baboon—The cus- cus — Bats—Parrots —Eagles—Kingfishers—Eurystomus—Swifts— Crows — Shrikes — Starlings — Nectar-birds — Pigeons — Maleos — Sandpipers — Egrets — Reptiles — ao ee —- Spiders — Centipedes—Phosphorescent millipede : CHAPTER VI MARINE FAUNA OF TALISSE SHORES Depth of Talisse Sea—Shore gradients—Fauna of the sea-bottom— Structure of corals—Principal types of corals—A ramble on the coral reefs—Fauna of the lagoon—Fauna of the mangrove swamp—The food of corals— The colour of corals . CHAPTER VII TO SANGIR AND TALAUT Arrival of the ‘ Ternate ’ at Talisse—Lirung—Saha Islands—The rajah of Pulutan—Nanusa Archipelago—Kampong Karaton—Raised coral reefs—Legend of Mengampit—Alaoruru—Mangarang—Abundance o butterflies—Béo—Terrible sickness—Glorious sunset—Sangir— PAGE 37 81 . 106 CONTENTS Coco-nut palms—Taruna—Manganitu—Mr, Steller’s house and gardens—Koffo—Curious mode of keeping time—Visit to the coral reefs—Trip to the interior—Reception of the Resident at Manganitu —Siauw—Tagulandang again—Talisse CHAPTER VIII CHARACTERISTICS OF SANGIR ISLANDS Holy islands—The islands between Celebes and the Philippines— Facilities for the distribution of animals—The avi-fauna—Legend of a former land communication with Sangir—History of Sangir— The Sangirese race—Slavery —Food—Diseases—Religions—Marriage customs—Funeral customs—Fishing implements—Weapons—Dress —Physiognomy—Language . . CHAPTER IX JOURNEY THROUGH MINAHASSA Minahassa—The capital Manado—Heerendienst—Manado as a port— Exports—Start for the interior—Tondano—Condition of affairs a century ago—Ballottos—The Great Lake—Atya Wyckii—Kakas and Langowan—Arrival at Kelelonde—The coffee garden—Mapalus— The Tompusu pass—The forests of Minahassa CHAPTER X MYTHOLOGY OF THE MINAHASSERS Stone implements—Cosmologies—Legend of the origin of sun, moon, and stars—Story of Wailan-wangko—Religion—Story of Warereh— List of the principal Gods—Spirits—Native Prayers—Demons— Priests—Holy Birds—Fossos—Shamans— Giants—Story of sii, —Story of Utahagi : “i ‘ 2 4 CHAPTER XI CUSTOMS OF THE MINAHASSERS Marriage customs—Infant betrothal—Courtship—Use of the betel-nut in courtship—The harta or dowry—Laws of inheritance—Shunning the parents-in-law—Teknonymy—Divorce—Adoption of children— Comparison of the marriage laws of Minahassa with those of other parts of the Archipelago-—Birth customs— Makehet—Sickness— Death—Burial customs—Driving away the spirit PAGE » 152 . 205 . 238 268 xii A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CHAPTER XII SONGS AND ROMANCE IN OLD MINAHASSA PAGE Love songs—Stories—Story of Maengkom—Story of Matindas—Story of Kawalusan — Stories!about apes— Hair stories — Riddles — Proverbs . é : . . 7 . ‘ : : . 301 CHAPTER XIII HISTORY OF AND USEFUL PLANTS IN MINAHASSA Early history of European settlements in Minahassa—Account of the Dutch settlement—The Sagoweer palm—Coco-nut pearls—The Betel-nut palm—The Corypha palm—Woods—Kapok—The Musa mindanensis—Edible fruits—Rice—Legend of the rice—Art of the Alfirs : i : 3 : ‘i F ‘ ‘ ‘ . 823 CHAPTER XIV MANADO Every-day life in Manado—Chinese New Year’s Day—The King’s birth- day—A grand ball—An oath—The story of Makalew—Last visit to Talisse—Farewell to Celebes . i 5 é : ; . 339 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS (Engraved by J. D. Cooper) FIG. PERIOPHTHALMUS KoELREUTERI. (Drawn from specimens by Miss A. W. Hickson) . : : . . . Frontispiece . Nattve DovsLe OvtT-RIGGED CaNnoE or ‘Lonpr.’ (From a model: A. W. Hickson) . : : 5 : - page 22 . ScHEmATIC SECTION OF SHORE PLATFORM, Swamp, AND REEF. (The Author). . : : . 3 ‘ : . 24 . SKETCH OF BuTTeRFLY Bay and Batu Kapa, In List Is- LAND. (From a sketch by the Author: Mr. Percival Skelton) . ; : A : 3 3 . To face p. 38 . SketcH Map or Norra Lives. (The Author) . i . 84 . THE Ruane Votcano. (From a sketch by the Author) . 42 . Cora ReeErs of Passtac AND TAGULANDANG. (From a sketch by the Author: Mr. Percival Skelton) . . To face p. 45 . Potuicrpes. (From a specimen: A. W. Hickson) . 4 « DA . Galacea Esperi. (From a photograph) ‘ F : . 53 9, THE Pancnuran at TauissE. (From a photograph: Miss Lydia King) 3 : ‘ 4 3 é . To face p. 59 xiv FIG, 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. A NATURALIST IN CELEBES PAGE Tur STRAIT BETWEEN TaLisseE AND KinaBonuTAN. (From a sketch by the Author: Mr. Percwal Skelton) . To face p. 75 CYNOPITHECUS NIGRESCENS. (From the Zoology of the Voyage of the ‘ Astrolabe’ (78): A. W. Hickson) To face p. 83 DIAGRAM TO ILLUSTRATE THE AVERAGE SHORE SLOPES IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD oF TaLIsse Pier, Manapbo, AND MANANINTA, COMPARED WITH THE INCLINATION OF TALISSE Hitt. (The Author) . js : . 5 : : . 107 DIAGRAM TO ILLUSTRATE THE ANATOMY OF Galacea Espert. (Dr. G. H. Fowler). i : : ‘ . . . 120 DiscraM oF TRANSVERSE SECTIONS THROUGH A PoLYPE oF Galacea Esperi. (Dr. G. H. Fowler) - . : . 122 ScHEmMaTic DRAWING OF A PoLYPE oF A COLONIAL PERFORATE Corat. (Dr. G. H. Fowler) F : ‘ ; , . 123 Clavularia viridis. (A. W. Hickson) . ; H . - 125 . Cora RuEr anp Lacoon near Koa. (From photographs and sketches by the Author : Mr. Percival Skelton) To face p. 187 Larcze House 1n Karaton. (From a sketch by the Author: A. W. Hickson) . é 5 F F ‘ é . 161 Tampat Gor. (From a specimen: A. Robinson) . : . 162 Saxir Canon. (From a specumen: A. W. Hickson) . . 164 Wooven Spears From Bio. (From a photograph) . . 171 Woopen SHIELD FRom Bio. (From a@ specimen: A. W. Hickson) . : . : . F . E . - 171 Ur6, a Coco-nut Fericu. (From the specimen: A. W. Hickson) F ‘ ; : ‘ ‘ ; . 176 CrREMONIAL SHIELD or SenTRY aT TaRuna. (From the specimen : A. W. Hickson) p é F . . 177 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xV FIG. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 82. 83. 34. 35. I. PAGE Hart or Sentry at Taruna. (From the specimen: A. W. Hickson) . F ‘ : A : i . ‘ 177 Notcuep Sricxs For Krrepinc Time 1n Maneanitu. (From the specimen: A. W. Hickson) . : é ‘ : . 180 A Saco CHoprer. (From the specimen: A. W. Hickson) . 195 Fisoing Froats From SanGiR AND Santa Cruz. (From photographs of specimens in the Pitt-Rivers Museum at Oxfer 5 ke ee ek eR es . 201 Tur Heap or a Matay Fisuinc Spear. (From a photo- graph) . . Ciup From Taruna. (From the specimen: A. W. Hickson) . 208 Boro. (From the specimen: A.W. Hickson) . . . 216 Atya Wyck. (Copied from the ‘ Annals and Magazine of Natural History’ (38): drawn by A. W. Hickson) . 222 A Spear FRom Bwoou. (From a photograph) . ‘ 326 PatTERN on A LancowaNn Mar. (From the specimen: A. W. Hickson) . é 3 : 5 . : ‘ . 334 Tommy Kwacx. (From a photograph) . é . ‘ 857 MAPS . Mrnanassa : : : : j . F To face p. 138 Tur ISLANDS BETWEEN THE PHILIPPINES AND CELEBES ,, 157 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CHAPTER I FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES Arrival at Makassar—Objects of my visit to Celebes—Area and physical features of the island—Makassar—Private theatricals—‘ Running amuck ’ —Sail for Manado—Beauty of the coast seenery—Manado Bay—Interview with the Resident of Manado—Etiquette—News of H.M.S. ‘Flying Fish ’ —The Government of the district—The inhabitants—Start for Talisse— Unpunctuality of the Malayraces—Whistling for the wind—Talisse coral reefs—Koa—H.M.S. ‘ Flying Fish.’ Karty in the morning of Friday, July 24, 1885, the passengers on board the Nederland India s.s. ‘ Generaal Pell’ could see amid the purple mist of the horizon the conical summit of Mount Bonthain rising as it were out of the sea. It was a lovely morning; not a breath of wind disturbed the pond-like surface of the brilliantly blue sea ; not a cloud broke the monotony of the equally clear blue sky above our heads; and as we gradually approached the coast of Celebes and the forest-clad hills and fertile plains exposed themselves to view, a feeling came over me that a veritable earthly Paradise lay before me in that beautiful island. Before introducing the reader, however, to Celebes and the Celebeans, I must pause a while to explain the objects I had in view in visiting this island in the tropics. My main object was the investigation of certain problems connected with marine zoology. 2 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES cH. I Of all the branches of Natural History, not one has made so much progress within the last ten years as that of marine zoology. The vast improvements in the microscope, the new means for anatomical and embryological research, and the beautiful methods of killing and preserving the de- licate inhabitants of the sea, have given a great stimulus to this branch of study; and it is needless to say that the results obtained by investigators have been of the greatest interest and importance. Having directed my attention for some years to questions connected with marine zoology, I deter- mined to undertake, when time and opportunity served, a voyage to that most generous of hunting grounds—the coral reef—to devote some time to the study of such ques- tions under the most favourable conditions. It is perhaps unnecessary for me to relate the series of reasons which induced me to choose Manado, in North Celebes, for my head-quarters. The three conditions ne- cessary for the continued and uninterrupted pursuit of my work—a calm sea free from serious typhoons and storms, a friendly and tolerably intelligent race of natives, anda re- putation for general salubrity—were coexistent, I knew, in that region ; and the writings of naturalists who had pre- viously visited the spot are so full of glowing accounts of the beauty and luxuriance of land and sea that I longed to observe for myself the wonders they describe so well. The long voyage from England, through the Mediterra- nean Sea, the Suez Canal, the Red Sea and Indian Ocean, full of interest and excitement as it was and ever must be to a lover and observer of nature, I must pass over without comment. Nor can I pause to relate my impressions of Java, with its densely populated towns, its wondrous forests, and its awe-inspiring volcanoes. These parts of the world have been well described by other travellers far better acquainted with them than I am, CH. I FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES 3 and I could add but little that would be of interest to the general reader or valuable to scientific men. My own travels and researches were mainly carried on in the Minahassa district of North Celebes and the chain of little islands connecting it with Mindanao. To those regions, therefore, I will endeavour to confine myself in these pages. Anyone glancing at a map of the Malay Archipelago must be struck with the curious spider-like shape of the island called Celebes. It is divided into four long peninsulas or arms and a central continent or nucleus by three deep bays—the Bay of Tomini and the Bay of Tomori, facing east, and the Bay of Boni, facing south. It has an area of 70,000 square miles, being in this respect rather larger than England and Wales. Its greatest length is 800 miles, rather longer than Great Britain, and it has the enormous coast line of 2,000 miles. Its population—who can estimate its peoples? The central continent of the island has not yet seen the face of the white man, and by far the greater part of the four peninsulas is almost unknown and undescribed; in fact, the only parts which are thoroughly explored and utilised by Europeans are not much larger in area than the Isle of Wight and the Isle of Man. It may seem strange to those who live in crowded cities, where the struggle for mere existence is ever keen and bitter, that there still exists a land nearly as large as Great Britain itself, famous for its healthy equable climate and capable of producing in abundance all the necessities and most of the luxuries of our life, still unknown, unclaimed, untilled. It is true that the Dutch flag flies in name over the whole island, but the only parts which are really governed by the Dutch are a small region round Makassar in the south, Minahassa in the north, and the district of Gorontalo in the B2 4 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES cH. I Bay of Tomini. These parts are, however, as nothing com- pared with the wide acres of land still covered with virgin forest and calling no one master but the untutored savage. Makassar is the first port the steamers call at in their passage to the Moluccas. It is a large and busy place, with a mixed population of Makassarese, Buginese, Dutch, Chinese, and Arabs. It is the centre of the trade with the Moluceas and by far the most important port east of Java. It has been aptly termed the ‘Hong Kong’ of the Dutch in the East Indies (25*). The country round Makassar is low and swampy, and the distant range of mountains crowned by Bonthain (10,000 feet), famous for its coffee gardens, is frequently hidden in the dense mist which rises from the surrounding plains. The water as we approached Makassar was of that milky green colour which so often betokens shallows and sandbanks, but the presence of several large ship buoys indicates to the mariner the course that must be taken to bring him safely to his destination. As the ‘ Generaal Pell ’ cautiously picked her way through the shallows to take up her position alongside the little iron pier, we had ample‘opportunities of observing the various craft of steam and sail which lay at anchor in the roads. Drawn up along the beach were several of the curious sailing praus of about twenty to forty tons apiece belonging to the Buginese traders, a race of wandering Malays to be found in almost every port of the Eastern isles. When we were safely berthed, and the crowd of Orientals and Europeans who were awaiting our arrival had come aboard to hear the latest news and transact their business, I took the opportunity of going ashore to gain my first experience of Celebes. (* These figures throughout text refer to Bibliography at the end of work.] CH. I FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES 5 The principal street in Makassar, running parallel with the coast line, is nearly a mile in length and very narrow all the way. In the business quarter of the town it is lined by the warehouses of the European merchants, a few good general shops, and the smaller tokos of the China- men and Arabs. Here may be purchased to the greatest advantage all the products of the Moluccas, from such things as spice and copra, coffee and cocoa to living birds of Paradise and ethnological curios. For the traveller, too, who is bound for little-known parts, where the stolid Holland dollar (24 f.) is valuable only as a lump of silver, there is no market like this; for here he may obtain the surest information about the form of ‘ trade’ which is most likely to be favoured by the tribes with whom he comes in contact. Beads and looking-glasses, wooden combs, knives and cloths may be purchased in Makassar at a price but little higher than that which is charged for them in Birmingham or Manchester. Makassar is the seat of the Governor of Celebes, whose substantial whitewashed palace forms a conspicuous object on the wide plain behind Fort Orange. Close by the palace is the club ‘ Harmonie,’ where, after the heat of the day, the civil and official Dutchmen meet together to play a game of billiards or to gossip over their cigars and ‘ pijtjes.’ One of the most striking features of Makassar is a magnificent avenue of tamarind trees which throws a grateful shade over the long road running from the * plein’ through the ‘ villadom’ of the town. On the evening of our arrival I was invited to attend a social entertainment at the Vereeniging Unitas, a large whitewashed hall in the tamarind avenue. Two short farces were performed by amateurs with much spirit and no little dramatic force. They were en- 6 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES cH. I titled ‘Lente’s eerstelingen’ and ‘Eens gekocht blijft gekocht.’ When the curtain fell on the last of these the chairs were cleared away and the company began to dance. ‘Na afloop bal,’ as the programme curtly put it. These entertainments in Dutch East India usually go on until the early hours of the morning; but, as I was a perfect stranger in a crowd of people who were very well acquainted with one another, I soon grew tired of the gay and festive throng and left a little after midnight. I was accompanied by a young officer of artillery, a fellow-passenger of the ‘ Generaal Pell,’ who soon afterwards, I was told, fell a victim to the feverin Amboyna. As we made our way through the quiet and deserted thoroughfares towards the pier, we were challenged at intervals by the villainous looking ‘ djagas’ or night watchmen, who, armed with long forked ‘thief- catcher ’ spears, dodged in and out like bogeys from pitch- dark corners and recesses. I must confess that at the time I experienced a creepy feeling of insecurity in those lonely streets, brought on perhaps by exaggerated or un- truthful rumours of the dangers of Makassar streets at night. Makassar has an unenviable reputation for that strange form of religious frenzy known as ‘running amuck.’ I dare say this reputation is undeserved, and there are no more ‘Amooks’ in Makassar than in other large Eastern towns with a Mohammedan population ; but, nevertheless, the possibility of the thing occurring is apt to come forcibly before one on a dark moonless night, and remind one of the insecurity of human life even when accompanied, as I was, by a military officer with a glittering sword. Although this form of religious fanaticism, which leads the fanatic to murder indiscriminately every one he comes across until he himself is captured or shot down, is un- doubtedly of the greatest possible interest to the anthro- CH. I FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES 7 pologist, I felt it was too dark perhaps that night to welcome an Amook as a subject for scientific study. We stayed two days in Makassar, and then, shortly after sunrise on Sunday, July 26, we sailed for the northern coasts of Celebes. This, the last part of my long journey from Europe, was in many ways the most interesting and enjoyable, due in no small degree to the clearness and calmness of the atmo- sphere, which, free from mist and cloud, enabled us to see with perfect ease the bold and beauteous scenery of the coast. As we threaded our way through the thousand little islands of the Straits of Makassar, we were able to gain some idea of the great extent and extreme fertility of this beautiful country. The lofty mountains standing out in bold relief against the clear blue sky are covered with dense forest from their summits to the level of the sea. Scarcely a rock or field of grass can be discovered to break the monotony of the sea of trees from Makassar to Manado. Everywhere, on island or on strand, on mountain, plain, and dale, are signs of a richness and fertility of soil unsur- passed perhaps in any part of the habitable world. The little islands of the coast through which we pass add considerably to the beauty of the scene. The little patch of forest with which each one is covered is bordered in some cases by rows of coco-nuts or banana plantations, and the huts of a few families of wandering fishermen may be seen nestling in their shade. Around each island is a narrow strip of sand formed of coral and shell detritus, which glistens and sparkles in the sunshine, and then the shallow milky green water covering the coral reefs blends with the blue waters of the deeper sea beyond it. The traveller cannot fail to be impressed, on such a trip as this, with the clearness and brilliancy of colours in 8 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. I tropical nature. The blue of sea and sky, the various shades of green of the forest, the glistening whiteness of the coral strand, and the glowing shades of gold and red of a fine sunset in the tropics, are colours that we rarely see in our sober temperate climes. I cannot linger now to describe the passing glimpses I obtained of the little villages of Pari-pari, Toli-toli, Dongola, and the more important Amurang, for the steamer stayed but long enough to leave the mails and a little cargo, and was off before I had a chance to go ashore. Three days after we left Makassar we steamed into Manado Bay. There can be no question that Manado Bay is extremely beautiful, and upon this morning of July 29, as we cut our way through the perfectly calm and glassy water, leaving a long streak of placid foam in our wake, we saw it to the best advantage. To the north, like a sentinel at the gate, stands Manado- tuwa, one of those perfectly conical island mountains not unfrequently met with in volcanic regions, and in its immediate neighbourhood lie one or two perfectly flat coral islands covered with swamp and morass. The coast of the bay is flat, but the land gradually rises a short distance from the sea and slopes away to form the mountainous back- bone of the peninsula. In the distance stands the Klabat (6,694 feet), one of the most beautiful and imposing peaks in the island. In the middle of the bay the Manado River brings its muddy sulphurous waters to the sea. But where is Manado? By carefully scanning the coast with a field glass, a few poor native huts may be seen on the north bank of the river mouth, and on the south of it, with greater difficulty, a small wooden pier and a fort. The town itself, with its residency, prison, Government offices, church, and warehouses, lies buried amongst the lofty trees and dense ground foliage of the strand. CHI FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES 9 There is unfortunately no iron pier at Manado for the steamers to come alongside as at Makassar, and the anchorage in the roads is not of the best. When the anchor was dropped, the ship swung round with her stern shorewards, and two stout iron hawsers were sent off to make her fast to the shore. This precaution is necessary at Manado on account of the steepness of the anchorage and the insecure character of the sandy bottom. At one end of the ship there may be sixty fathoms of water, and at the other only twelve, so that, unless special precau- tions are taken, a stiff breeze from the shore may drag the anchor into deep waters, and leave the ship to the mercy of the winds and tides. As soon as the ship was snug, I sent a letter to the Resident, announcing my arrival, and requesting an inter- view with him for the purpose of presenting my papers and permits. Having received a favourable reply, I was put ashore in the steam-cutter attached to the steamer, and made my way to the Residency, where I found the Resident van der Wyck entertaining some of his friends in the verandah. Having introduced myself and presented my papers, I joined the little party of gentlemen and ladies and entered (so far as my limited knowledge of the Dutch language permitted me) into the conversation. Let me pause a moment here to give a slight sketch of the etiquette of visiting in the Dutch East Indies. When a stranger comes to settle in a town, he must first of all call upon the residents with whom he wishes to become acquainted. Itis as well to send a note at once to say that Mr. X. will give himself the pleasure of calling upon Weledelgestreng. Heer This or Weledelen Heer van That on such a day, and then, if he receives in reply a letter saying that he will be received, the visitor must assume a 10 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. I black tail-coat, a white shirt with a black tie, a white pair of pants, and, pro forma, a hat. The visit should take place between six and seven o’clock in the evening, when it is presumed the ladies and the gentlemen of the household have put aside the usual déshabille in which they spend a considerable portion of the day, and are ‘dressed’ in the more civilised but uncomfortable European costume. On arrival at the house he will probably find his host sitting in the ‘ voorgallerij ’ or verandah; if not, he must shout ‘Spada,’ a contraction of ‘Siap’ada’ (Who’s there!) until some one comes. In the verandah is a round table bearing a num- ber of wine decanters and a box of cigars. The decanters contain Geneva, port wine, Madeira, and bitters. To any one accustomed to English ideas of diet, it does not seem quite natural to partake of these strong drinks and smoke cigars immediately before dinner, but the Dutchman looks upon his ‘ pijtje’ before dinner as one of the necessities of life in the East, and seems none the worse for it. I never became quite naturalised to ‘gin and bitters,’ nor could I believe that it is a prophylactic against fever and other tropical diseases, as some of its admirers wished me to, nevertheless I think it is quite as wholesome as any other form of spirits imported into the East. The first visit should not last longer than an hour, and is usually brought to a conclusion by a friendly shake of the hands and a stiff German bow. A few days after the introductory visit, the gentleman, if he wishes to maintain the acquaintance, returns the call, and then the friendship is cemented by card parties, drives, or other entertainments. To return now to my introductory visit to the Resi- dent of Manado. He talked English correctly, but with some difficulty, and I was then unable to maintain a conversation in Dutch, so that we were some little time in understanding one another. However, I soon learnt that CH. I FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES 11 he was willing to help me to the best of his ability, and was himself a man of some powers of observation and fully interested in many of the scientific problems afforded by the district over which he ruled. Subsequent experience fully confirmed my anticipations, and his kindness, help, and hospitality to me was far in excess of anything I had aright to expect. He was a type of the Dutch official in Malayia— kind and courtly, intelligent and hospitable. When my visit should have terminated—I was inexperi- enced then—he warmly welcomed me to dinner and after- wards conducted me to the ‘ Pasangrahan,’ or hotel, if it might be dignified by such a name, where I was temporarily to reside. Upon my arrival in Manado I received a very welcome piece of intelligence. A letter was presented to me by the Resident from Captain Maclear, R.N., telling me that H.M.S. ‘Flying Fish’ had just arrived in Banka Strait for surveying purposes, and that I should be heartily welcomed if I could find an opportunity to join her. The chances that were thus open to me of choosing a suitable locality for my work and investigating a large extent of coral reef before I finally settled down were such as any naturalist in these regions might dream of for years without realising, and consequently I took the earliest opportunity that offered of joining the ship at Banka. Among my letters of introduction was one to the chief agent of the Molucca Trading Company (Moluksche Handel- vennootschap), a company which owns the little island called Talisse, in the Banka Straits. He was about to pay a visit to the coco-nut plantations in the island, and very kindly offered to take me and my luggage with him in his barkas (long-boat), an offer I thankfully accepted. During the two days that I spent in Manado previous to my depar- ture for Talisse I was able to form but an imperfect idea 12 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. I of the beautiful country lying round the town and of the society of the little colony of Kuropeans in this remote corner of the globe. I will leave, therefore, what I have to say about Manado and the Minahassers to a later chapter, mentioning only a few facts which are necessary for a proper understanding of the extent and management of the colony. The district which comes under the jurisdiction of the Resident of Manado includes the whole of the northern peninsula of the island, the coasts and islands of the Tomini Bay, a portion of the south-east peninsula, and_ the islands which lie between Celebes and Mindanao. Of this enormous territory the only parts which have yet been brought under the ‘direkt bestuur’ of the Dutch Govern- ment are the province of Minahassa and a small district round the port of Gorontalo in the Tomini Bay. The rest of the country is governed by native rajahs and chiefs, some of whom are appointed by the Resident of Manado and pay a small annual tribute to the Government. Minahassa itself is in many respects a perfect specimen of the well-governed, peaceful, and contented Dutch colony. In addition to the Resident, who is supreme in the district, there ‘are four Controleurs stationed at Manado, Tondano, Kema, and Amurang, who act as magistrates, collectors of the taxes, and overseers of the Government plantations. Several European missionaries, schoolmasters and mis- tresses are resident in different parts of Minahassa, and the religious training and secular education are sound and simple. The natives are as a general rule well-dressed, clean, respectful, honest, sober, and contented ; they live in tidy little wooden houses in well-regulated villages, and are diligent in their attendance at both church and school. When young, both men and women are often very handsome, 40' 125° MAP OF 156 _,T_Aros Acer, IUNAHAS SA. ae SS Taliss Seale ,1: 700,000. tE 269 He at uae - cui Talisse ANKA Note. 7 plorgh Cape or theges bs » Sago ? = AFDEELING = DIVISION. Sap alempiog an. 18, gag ae, ies StPaits -, ,C. Coffin uo BatuHaxpal PLAN OF MANADO) Seale 1: 77,500 ENGLISH MILE 'G-MONGONDU / or GORONTALO fi BAY oF TOMIN 4.0’ 125° Tongitude East of Greenwich. 40' 20° London ; John Murray, Abemarle Street. CH. I FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES 13 but they soon begin to look crabbed and wizen as they advance in age. Of a pale yellowish brown complexion, perhaps paler than the majority of the Malay races, with high cheek bones and oval eyes, long straight jet black hair, and, when she does not indulge in the practice of betel chewing, perfect pearl-like teeth, the young Minahassa girl is sometimes very pretty, and even among the older people there are types occasionally seen which may be called quite handsome. There is nothing repulsive or offen- sive to European taste about the ordinary inhabitants of Minahassa. In matters of adornment they are simple- minded: no hideous grotesque rings, bracelets, clothes, or coiffures mar their personal appearance; no revolting malformations or mutilations of lips, ears or nostrils shock the European’s sense of what is right and proper. J am never likely to forget the first few days I spent in this fascinating region—the first glimpses of the warm luxuriant scenery, the neat and well-regulated villages and streets, or the quiet and respectful inhabitants. My im- pressions of the place were extremely pleasant, and though in later days I came across some customs, habits, laws, and regulations open to serious criticism, I still believe that this little Dutch colony is fully worthy of the praise and admiration it has excited in every traveller who has visited it and written down his experiences there. I had arranged to start with the agent for Talisse at six o’clock in the morning of August 4, but for some reason or another the boat was not ready for us until nine o’clock in the evening. Coming straight from European cities, where trains and boats, engagements and appointments, are timed to the minute, the traveller is often much annoyed by the un- reasonable unpunctuality of the Eastern races; but a few months’ experience teaches him that no man’s word can be 14 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. I relied upon in the tropics as far as appointments are con- cerned, and he becomes accustomed to it. There is no word for ‘punctual’ in the Malay language. That we did succeed in leaving Manado only fifteen hours late was something to be thankful for. When we left the river mouth that night it was pitch dark in Manado Bay, and I wondered how it was possible for our captain, a Manilla man who could talk a little broken English, to direct our course. For the first few hours we were favoured by the so- called land-wind, a rush of cold air from the highlands to the sea which blows with great constancy from sunset to mid- night at this time of the year, and we made rapid progress towards Tanjong Piso, or Knife Cape, at the northern extremity of Manado Bay. No sooner had we rounded the cape than the wind dropped and we nearly came to a standstill. Our ‘kamudi’—i.e. captain and steersman—did the best he could for us, but in vain; we were doomed to drift about for some hours without much progress. He would whistle softly and enticingly, or would change his tone and with pouted lips whistle angrily and viciously for the wind that would not come to help us on. I have often wondered what can have been the origin of this almost universal custom of whistling for the wind. That the custom is of undoubted practical utility is the firm belief of many races of seafarers, from the English sea-captain to the humble Malay kamudi. I was on one occasion very roughly spoken to by a captain in the Irish Channel for casually whistling in a gale of wind. He thought it a piece of gross carelessness on my part which might lead to serious consequences. Here in Celebes, too, I was warned to be careful not to laugh when the kamudi screwed his face up into an intensely ludicrous expression of feigned passion and whistled angrily for the wind to come, for the CH. I FIRST GLIMPSES OF CELEBES 15 Malay seaman’s belief in the efficacy of this mode of raising the wind is a serious one and will not brook being made an object of derision. Soon after midnight a favourable breeze sprang up, and by sunrise we were passing the little islands of Ganga and Tindela. A little later we struck the strong current running through the straits which separate Tindela from Talisse, at the time in our favour, and soon after we were bumping on the coral reefs which fringe the shores of the latter island. This was my first introduction to a coral reef, and, notwithstanding the fatigue of a sleep- less night journey and an intense desire to reach my desti- nation, I could not help gazing with wonder and admiration on the marvellous sight that was to be seen at the bottom of the transparent shallow waters of the reef. I had ex- pected to see a wonderful variety of graceful shapes in the branching madrepores and the fan-like, feather-like aleyona- rians, for these may be seen in any large museum which pos- sesses a collection of such things, but I was not prepared to find such brilliancy and variety of colour on the reefs. The madrepores, which in the dried collections are uniformly white, in the living state are of a bright olive brown colour, with growing points and polypes of bright emerald green or violet, and the pale-yellow or white starfishes of our museums seem to be studded here with rare jewels which shine and sparkle with all the colours of the rainbow. Soon after we struck the reef of Talisse, the tide turned with a current of some five or six knots against us; our kamudi wished to drop an anchor until the following tide, but as we could already see the steam- cutters of the ‘ Flying Fish’ taking off the surveying parties to different points upon the straits, we urged our men to further exertions with the paddles and succeeded in reach- ing the little wooden pier at Koa before midday. The 16 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES cH. I place, which is called Koa in the map, is not, as might be supposed, worthy of the name of village. It consists simply of the house of the Opzichter or overseer, the mandurs or foremen, a gudang or store for rice and other things, and some half-dozen houses of the labourers in the plan- tations. It is, however, if I might so call it, the port of Talisse, for here the passing praus and sailing vessels stop for water and for shelter on their way from Sangir to Manado. Unimportant as it is to the world at large, it was of considerable interest and importance to me, for here T lived for some months when I commenced my studies of the fauna of the forests and the reefs. There was, at the time of my arrival—it has tumbled down long since—a rickety wooden pier which stretched from the shore to a distance of some fifteen or sixteen yards beyond the edge of the coral reef. H.M.S. ‘Flying Fish,’ a composite sloop of 950 tons, carrying two guns instead of her complement of four as she was on surveying service, was lying at anchor two or three cables from the pier at Koa; and as soon as I had enjoyed a refreshing bath in the beautiful little stream that issues from the mountain-side and breakfasted at the Opzichter’s house, I went on board. I was most heartily and kindly welcomed by all on board, and soon became involved in a running conversation on English politics in general and my own adventures in the past and plans for the future in particular. My subsequent connection with this vessel was in every way a very happy and particularly fortunate one for me, and I cannot more appropriately close this my introductory chapter than by recording my heartfelt thanks to Captain Maclear and the other officers of the ‘ Flying Fish’ for their great hospitality and kindness and for the hearty assist- ance they gave me in my work. CH. II ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 17 CHAPTER II ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ The characteristics of Talisse sea—Babirusa hunt—Characters of the forest—The flora—The fauna—Luncheon on the sea-shore— Sandpipers —Race with a native prau—Visit to Bohoi Promontory—The shore platform—The character of the coral reefs—Conditions favourable to coral growth—Practical importance of the knowledge of the conditions favourable to coral growth—Bohoi Bay—Flight of the natives—Jumping crabs and fishes—Periophthalmus—Limbé Island—Batu Kapal—Rooper Point—Wallace Bay—Manado. Tue little sea which I shall call Talisse sea is enclosed by the islands of Banka on the north-east, Kinabohutan, Talisse, Tindela, and Ganga on the north and north-west, and the coast of the northern peninsula of Celebes on the south. In many respects it is a particularly favourable locality for the marine naturalist, for its waters are only on the rarest occasions too rough for an open boat, and frequently as smooth as a mill-pond and as clear as glass. The shores being of three kinds—namely, coral reefs, steep rocks, and river-sand—present every variation of the tropical shallow- water fauna; and, as the bottom is fairly smooth and even, and the water nowhere more than twenty fathoms deep, trawls and dredges may be used with impunity. Outside, the sea is very deep, 200 fathoms being found quite close to the reefs on the west side of Talisse, and 560 fathoms close to the rocks on the east side of Banka, so that the naturalist, if he be fortunate enough to possess the necessary appliances, can investigate the mysteries of the deep seas within an easy distance from his home. W 18 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. II During the first few days I was busily engaged unpack- ing my trunks and arranging all my bottles and reagents as conveniently as I could for future use, but I also had several opportunities of cursorily examining the reefs and shores in the immediate neighbourhood of the place I after- wards chose to be my head-quarters. On August 9 the ‘Flying Fish’ lay at anchor off Likupang, and the chief agent of the company engaged a party of hunters from the village to serve as guides on a babirusa hunt in the neighbouring forests. We left the vessel early in the morning and rowed towards a little bay which lies about half way between Likupang and Cape Coffin, and then, dividing into three parties, we searched the forests for our game; but babirusas were not to be seen that day, and we returned to the coast with an empty bag. I must confess to a certain feeling of disappointment at our bad fortune, for I was curious to see a specimen of this interesting pig, whose enormous tusks curl back over its head, in a wild state, and I was anxious to solve the difficult problem of the use they may be to the animal in his native jungle. Nevertheless I was glad to have had an opportunity of visiting this particular part of the Celebean forest, for the accounts of its grandeur and magnificence given by Wallace and Guillemard, both of whom had visited it for the purpose of hunting the babirusa, had made a great impression on my mind. Had we only shot a babirusa, I might say that in no respect was I disappointed. The enormous size of many of the ordinary timber trees, the handsome Livistonia palms, the graceful loops of the unending rattans as, stretching from tree to tree, they carried with them endless varieties of other climbers, or supported in their folds large ferns and orchids, formed a framework for the scene which was as CH. IL ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 19 interesting for its richness and variety as it was impressive in its size and grandeur. . One might suppose that, having once seen a small portion of the forest, one has, as it were, sampled the forests of the low-lying districts of the country; but this is by no means the case. The more of the forest I visited, the more I became impressed with the fact that it varies in detail in different places almost as much as the coral reefs, and that to sample it is an impossibility. This particular part, for example, differs in some important respects from any other part of the forests of the continent or the islands I visited. The trees are finer and taller, and the undergrowth of shrubs and herbs is, comparatively speaking, more poorly developed here than in Talisse. That most beautiful palm, the Livistonia rotundifolia, whose leaves are so useful to the Malay for making umbrellas, fans, baskets, and a hundred other things, is abundant here, but in other parts of the forest I have wandered for hours without finding a single speci- men. One of the commonest of the climbing plants here is the well-known ‘ tali ayer’ of the Malays, and probably the Unearia lanosa of botanists, which invariably contains in its internodes a delicious draught of clear pure water. I cannot remember finding it anywhere else. On the other hand, the ebony tree and the Sagoweer palm (Arenga sacchariferum), so abundant in some of the forests, are here but rarely seen. Of the animal kingdom in this spot I do not feel competent to speak. A naturalist who visits a place in the tropics only for a few hours in the middle of the day may come away with the impression that it is singularly poor in animal life, whereas another visiting it in the early hours of the morning, or an hour before and after sunset, c2 20 A NATURALIST IN CHLEBES CH. II may find the whole forest alive with birds and insects and the air filled with their songs and cries. The only birds I remember to have seen were the Horn- bills (Buceros exaratus). These heavy awkward creatures, aroused by our visit from their midday slumbers, shrieked at us through their long yellow beaks and flapped about from bough to bough in short clumsy flights. There were a few pigeons also far away and almost out of sight in the highest branches of the trees. Several of the large handsome baboons (the Cynopt- thecus nigrescens) were to be seen. These baboons are peculiar to the northern part of Celebes and some of the neighbouring islands, where they are very common and abundant. This region may be considered to be an out- post of monkeyland, for no monkeys are found either east or south of this district. After wandering through the forest for some hours, our guides brought us together at the sea-shore, where we spent a welcome hour of rest after our toilsome march up-hill and down-dale in the stifling heat of the forest. The spot we chose for our lunch was one of those beautifully clean white tracts of sand so frequently met with on the shores of coral islands and coasts with fringing reefs. The fine white sand was composed of coral detritus, foraminiferous shells and larger lumps of water-worn madrepores and tubiporas, with a litter of mangrove fruits, catapang nut- shells, husks of coco-nuts and other forest débris left by the last spring tides. Whilst we were at lunch the tide was slowly ebbing, and when the waters of the lagoon became sufficiently shallow, numerous little sandpipers appeared to seek their prey. These little birds afterwards proved good friends to me, for whenever my supply of chickens ran short in Talisse I CH. II ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 21 could always rely upon a brace of them to help me through with my meal of rice and curry. They should have had a more sentimental claim upon my attention than this, for they are also inhabitants of the British Isles. Two Celebean birds—and I believe I am right in saying only two—can hardly be distinguished by ornithologists from British species. One is the common sandpiper (Tringoides hypoleucus), and the other the cuckoo (Cuculus canorus). Of the cuckoo, Guillemard says (24): ‘Its skin cannot be distinguished from European skins in plumage.’ No- thing is at present known of the nesting habits of the bird in Celebes, so that we cannot yet assert that it lays its eggs in the nests of other birds. Although it was abundant in Talisse, I never heard the familiar cry of ‘cuckoo,’ which is so welcome to us in spring in England. It is possible that it utters this cry in the breeding season and is silent for the rest of the year. On our way back to the ship we were participators in an exciting and interesting race. The lunch, provided for us by the agent of the company, had arrived from Talisse in one of the Malay double-outrigged canoes called by the natives ‘londi.’ This canoe and the two whalers of the ‘Flying Fish’ crossed the reefs and hoisted sails almost simultaneously. The Malay sail is oblong in shape, stretched by two yards and hoisted by means of a halyard attached towards the foremost end of the upper yard. Two ropes attached to the port and starboard ends of the upper yard are made fast to branched wooden belaying pins fixed to the outriggers. In sailing, the rope on the windward side is used as a main sheet and hauled fast, so that the sail comes to stand nearly upright almost parallel with the mast, while the other rope is used as a tack to keep the sail steady. 22 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. II The starboard and port sides are called ‘lakki-lakki,’ or man, and ‘ perampuan,’ or woman, respectively. The canoe itself is simply a ‘dug-out.’ It is sometimes twenty-five or thirty feet long, with a beam of only thirty inches. Fic. 1.—Model of a native double-outrigged canoe or ‘ londi.’ The outriggers are generally made of two or three pieces of thick bamboo firmly lashed together and attached to cross pieces of some light strong wood which run right across the canoe. With a fair wind, these canoes carry a great deal of sail and can go very fast; but they are awkward to tack and cannot sail very close to the wind. CH. IT ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 23 On this occasion the race ended somewhat in favour of the canoe, but had the wind been a little more abeam the result would have been very different. , The following day I accompanied one of the surveying officers to a promontory on the north coast to the west of Likupang. This promontory is flat and bordered by a belt of mangrove swamp. I cannot give an accurate estimate of the breadth of this swamp, for it stretched away inland far beyond our sight, and none of the maps nor charts give any plan of the true coast line. The occurrence of a broad shore plain bordered by a broad belt of mangrove swamp is by no means a rare one in these climates. It is, in fact, such a common feature that it deserves a few words of explanation. In the first place it cannot for a moment be supposed that these broad level plains on the sea-coast represent the true bearing of the hill rocks. It is inconceivable that broad plains of the primitive volcanic rocks should be found at precisely the same (sea) level in so many places. We are bound, therefore, to believe that they were built up of some secondary formation at a much later period. What, then, is the probable nature of this formation ? In nearly every case where we find a dense mangrove swamp on the sea-coast we find a vigorous coral ree beyond it. Taking for granted at present—for I shall re- turn to argue this point in a later chapter—that coral reefs under certain favourable circumstances have a tendency slowly to grow out seawards, we must believe that the soil between the reef and the rising slopes of the hills is com- posed of coral sand and débris resting on a substratum of coral rock. This area is covered with water at all times except at low water of the spring tides, but on the shore side banks of sand are formed by the continual ebb and flow of the tides. The mangrove trees flourish best in such a soil 24 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IT of coral detritus, where they are washed by a perpetual flow of shallow water. On the shore side, the heavy rains bringing down from the mountain slopes an abundance of vegetable mould and soil by degrees raise the shore banks above the level of high-water mark, and then the mangroves are replaced by ordinary forest trees and jungle. Jn this manner a shore plain never submerged and covered with ordinary forest is gradually formed. Upon examining the reefs at this promontory, I found a very marked difference between the vigour of coral life upon B C DE F ! yf 1 ban Fic. 2.—Schematic section of shore platform, swamp, and coral reef. A, primitive rock; B, shore platform covered with ordinary forest trees; C, mangrove swamp ; D, lagoon; E, edge of coral reef; F, talus of reef. the extreme seaward point and the sides of the promontory. Where the reefs projected furthest into the sea the corals were few in number, small in size, and separated by considerable intervals of sand. On the northern and southern sides, however, I found the reefs in a very vigor- ous condition. Madrepores, tubiporas, sarcophytums, and sponges were growing in such abundance and profusion that it was impossible to put one’s foot down on anything save living zoophytes. This condition of affairs at the time astonished me, for I had supposed that those corals which grow upon the most projecting reefs would be likely to receive the greatest CH. It ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 25 quantity of food, and in consequence would thrive the best, and I thought that some exceptional and unexpected flow of the tides and currents must cause the languishing con- dition of the projecting reefs of the Bohoi Promontory and the prosperity of the reefs of its sides. Before I had been long at work, however, at Talisse, I came to the conclusion that what I had observed at Bohoi was rather a rule than an exception, for I never found in any single instance that the most vigorous coral growth was to be found upon those pcints of the coast line which project furthest into the sea. The vigorous growth of reef-corals seems to be de- pendent upon a great many conditions, the absence of any one of which causes very obvious modifications in the number of specimens, the number of species, and the size and vigour of corals found upon the reef. First, as is well known, reef-building corals will only grow in the warm waters of the tropical seas; secondly, they will only grow in water which is less than twenty or twenty-five fathoms deep; and, thirdly, in flowing water which is neither too swift nor too stagnant, and bears the kind of food which is necessary for their proper nourish- ment. Unfortunately we have at present but little information upon the rapidity of the flow of water which is most favour- able for the growth of corals and but few observations on the character of the food which the coral polypes like best. At Tanjong Aros, at the north of Talisse Island, I found that, although a few Astras could be seen growing at a depth of two or three fathoms, no true reef was formed. At this point the tide race sometimes runs at six or seven knots an hour. Ata point upon the reefs of Talisse oppo- site the island of Kinabohutan, where the tides flow at 26 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. 11 times with considerable rapidity, the corals are not growing vigorously and well, and in many other places I could refer to I found that luxuriant coral growth is not consistent with very lively water. Again, in deep bays or inlets, where tidal and ocean currents are scarcely felt, there is but little vigour in the reef, and the presence of fresh-water streams entirely destroys all the coral life upon it. The best places for the collector and observer of these forms are always to be found at the sides of reefs or promontories which project some distance into the sea. It is not difficult to find an explanation of the fact that corals will not grow in very rapid water. In the first place, their food, whatever it may be, cannot be easily captured when it is rushed past them as ina millstream ; and in the second place, the embryos which they discharge are carried away by the currents into less lively waters, where they can fix themselves upon the reef and grow. It would not, I think, be a very difficult thing to determine with some considerable accuracy the rapidity of the current most favourable for coral growth, but, to be trustworthy, the observations must be undertaken by a naturalist who is familiar with the fauna of the coral reefs, assisted by practical seamen who are competent to determine the rate of tidal currents, and have the command of steam. The result of such an investigation would not only be of considerable interest to scientific men, but would in all probability lead to several important cautions to the navi- gators of coral seas. Vessels are constantly being lost upon coral reefs in different parts of the world,! and many accidents are due to 1 Two sailing-ships were lost on the coral reefs near Manado during the eleven months I was in Celebes. CH. IT ON BOARD 4.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 27 the inaccuracy of our charts and the want of knowledge about the tides which sweep the reefs. We have abundant evidence to show that charts of coral reefs made one year are almost valueless twenty ycars afterwards ; and nevertheless we have at present absolutely no experimental results to indicate to the navigator or the naturalist in what places the reefs are growing seaward, and where they are gradually breaking down. In such a passage as Banka Strait, the force of the tide is strongest near the middle of the channel, and feebler towards the shores. Let us now suppose that at some point upon the coast the average tidal rate was the most favourable one for coral growth. This particular point would have a tendency, I believe, to grow out slowly into the strait. The rate of growth would be more rapid in shallow water than in deep water, but under all conditions it would grow until it reached that part of the current which was too strong to be favourable to coral growth, and there it would stop; while the sides of the projecting reef thus formed would grow until they reached the same strong currents. A change in the force or direction of the tides of the strait due to the change of reef in other places, or volcanic disturbances, might cause this reef to progress still further into the strait, or, on the other hand, to com- pletely die and become diminished by solution and erosion. My object in referring at such length to the subject of the supposed growth of coral reefs has been to endeavour to show that, apart from any movements of elevation and subsidence of the earth’s crust, the coral reefs should be looked upon not as simple stationary structures, but as living moving things, ever changing their form and aspect. Sometimes they obtain a mastery over the waves and en- croach upon the domains of the sea; sometimes they are beaten back by the tides, eroded and dissolved; whilst at 28 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IT times the water and the reef seem to assume a position of armed neutrality towards one another, and each one holds his own for years together. Whilst the surveying officer was engaged in taking his observations, I wandered about upon the slimy muddy shores and coral reefs, watching the active little squillas darting about amongst the corals, admiring the gorgeous colours with which the polypes are painted, and selecting a number of rare or interesting creatures for future examination. It was an immense pleasure to be at last upon a living coral reef, to be able to see for myself hundreds of the forms of animal life I had read about in books at home, and to correct by personal observation some of the many erroneous impressions I had gained by arm- chair work. I think that the fact which most astonished me was the extreme variety to be seen about me, the immense number of things of all kinds and of every description which lie about in such a spotasthis. If the accounts given of coral reefs fail to convey a true conception of what a coral reef is like, it is, perhaps, because they are more accurate in certain details than comprehensive. There are many animals quite unknown to the average reader, and I might say the ordinary traveller, bearing no names that convey any concrete idea to any one who is not a specialist in the particular branch of Natural History to which they belong. A long list of the Latin names of the corals of a reef, for example, conveys no impression even to many zoologists of the infinite variations of form, struc- ture, and colour which those corals actually present in the living state; and the same might be said of the members of every other group of the animal kingdom. A coral reef cannot be properly described. It must be seen to be thoroughly appreciated. Our work upon the promontory finished, we started in CH. II ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 29 the steam-cutter for a little inlet hard by called Bohoi Bay. The two sides of the bay are very different in appearance. On the north side there is a steep, rocky shore without any trace of coral reef. On the south a broad belt of mangrove swamp and a typical fringing reef. At the base of the inlet, which receives a little mountain stream, there was an elaborate arrangement of bamboo fishing-stakes, and, nestling amongst the trees on the northern shore, a few small houses. No wonder that when the natives saw our little ‘ skuchi api,’ or fire-boat, ploughing through the water towards their home, they thought discretion was the better part of valour and retired into the bush. It must have seemed to them passing strange that a party of apparently sane Europeans should find it worth their while to pay a visit to Bohoi Bay. We landed upon the northern shore and walked along towards a huge basaltic boulder which marked the entrance to the bay.? Between the volcanic rocks and boulders along the shore is a fine white foraminiferous sand, mainly composed of Calearina shellsand Orbitolites. The rocks which lie below high-water mark are covered with a fine layer of acorn shells. Upon them may be seen a number of brilliant little green and yellow crabs and jumping fishes. The crabs are called by naturalists Grapsus varius. They are curiously marked with dark olive-green stripes alter- nating with bright yellow stripes and spots, and they are capable of making the most extraordinary leaps and bounds T have ever seen in crab-life. They would spring from rock to rock with the greatest skill and precision, and when a broad expanse of bare rock allowed it they would scamper along at such a rate that I found it impossible to catch them. 2 The rocks of the volcanic regions of North Celebes belong to the augite- andesite series. 30 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. II Not being endowed with the wisdom of the crab, I wondered why, to escape from such an enemy as they evidently took me for, they did not immediately plunge into the water and hide beneath the rocks. Perhaps they have found that it is safer to trust to their powers of flight from rock to rock, which were, it is true, good enough for such an enemy as I was, than by plunging in the waters, to run the risk of falling victims to larger crabs and other foes that lurk in the rocky pools. The little jumping fishes (vide Frontispiece) are well known upon the shores of all the Indian seas. They, like their crab-comrades, appear to consider that their safety lies above the water rather than in it, for they never attempt to save themselves when disturbed by plunging into the sea. Their position is usually one of clinging to the edge of the rocks or mangrove roots by their fins, with their tails only in the water. When alarmed they make a spring by means of their bent, muscular, pectoral fins, and then skim across the water by a succession of short jumps until they reach a place of safety. The fact that they live the greater part of their lives with their head and gills out of water suggested to me an investigation of their respiratory organs, as I thought it pos- sible that they might possess some interesting modifications of the swim-bladder to enable them to breathe the air. It was not, however, until the Meeting of the British Association at Manchester in 1887 that an explanation of the mystery of their respiration occurred to me—namely, that the respi- ration is mainly performed by the tail. Since then Professor Haddon has been carrying on some experiments in Torres Straits and has shown that this explanation is correct (29). It seems at first sight a very extraordinary thing that a fish should have become so modified by change of habit as CH. ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 81 actually to have transferred the chief part of its respiratory functions from its gills to its tail. It is a well-known and generally recognised fact, however, that in all the Amphibia the skin plays a very important part as an organ of respira- tion, and it is quite possible that the thin skin between the fin-rays of many fishes also acts as an accessory to the gills and performs the same function. If this is proved to be the case we should have to look upon the tail of Peri- ophthalmus as an example of an organ discharging a function which is performed in a lesser degree by the tails of many if not of all fishes. Perhaps the most extraordinary feature of Perioph- thalmus is the curious pair of goggle-eyes. They stand up out of their sockets in a very uncouth manner, and are capable of very extensive rotatory movements. I have examined the anatomy of these eyes in some detail, and can say they are, in accordance with their supra-aquatic existence, more like the eyes of frogs than of ordinary fishes. Periophthalmuses feed upon small crabs and other crustacea, but I have also frequently found in their stomachs flies and mosquitoes. From the fact that they live almost invariably upon uneven, broken ground, and are extremely active and shy, they are exceedingly difficult to catch, and I may as well acknowledge that on this the first day of my acquaintance with them I failed to make a single capture. Some weeks afterwards, when I was at work in Talisse, I tried again. The butterfly-net method failed, however, and so did my attempt to catch them fly-fishing, and at last I was obliged to say to my boy severely, ‘Go, Manuel, and catch me fifty ikan chicchak,’ as the natives call them. ‘Tida boleh tuan’ (‘It can’t be done, sir’), replied Manuel, who had been an eye-witness of all my failures ; and there- 82 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. 1 upon I assumed my most serious tone and said, ‘Manuel, I shall be very angry with you if you do not bring fifty ikan chicchak to-morrow morning.’ Manuel left me, and by breakfast time on the following day he brought me fifty Periophthalmuses alive in a large glass vessel. The secret of his success is soon told. When he left me he consulted another boy of mine named Marcus, who, having been born and bred in the country districts, was well acquainted with all the snares and dodges used by boys for catching every living thing that flies, runs, or swims. Now Marcus always had at hand a small bamboo blow-pipe, and in a moment he could manufacture a little dart out of a piece of stick and a plug of cotton wool. In the early morning the two boys sallied out armed with this weapon, and in an hour or two they had succeeded in capturing some fifty specimens. They were all slightly wounded, it is true, but still they lived for some time in a glass bowl upon my table. They are, of course, excellent and rapid swimmers, but nevertheless they preferred to fix themselves to the sides of the bowl with their heads above the water and stare about them with their extraordinary goggle eyes. Having finished our work in Bohoi Bay, we returned to the little village, and found that some of the native men had ventured from their retreat. We presented the chief with a handful of tobacco for having thus unceremoniously intruded upon his property, and then steamed away to rejoin the ship. Two or three days after our visit to Bohoi Bay the ‘Flying Fish’ anchored off the northern point of Limbé Island. It is a wild, inhospitable spot, with a strong tide running in and out of the Straits of Limbé. Steep cliffs of basalt rise almost perpendicularly from the water ‘ENVISI YAMNIT NI ‘TvdVX ALVA GNV AVA AWUALLAG JO HOLAUS—'s “OLE CH. II ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 33 on the coast of the island facing us, and a reef of sharp steep rocks project from the promontory into the sea. At a distance of a couple of cables from this rises a great rock, called the Batu Kapal, or Ship Rock, white with the guano of numerous sea-birds. As the sun slowly sank on the horizon that night a crowd of frigate birds and boobies flew round and round the ship, making the evening hideous with their shrieks and screams. When darkness set in, however, they gradually became quiet, and went away to roost, we believed, on Batu Kapal. The following morning, when Lieutenant Rooper? and I scrambled up the almost precipitous sides of the rocks to take some observations and plant the little white surveying flag upon its summit, the birds were all gone. Not a single one remained behind to guard their island home. We found the rock to be covered with guano, but with the exception of half an old egg-shell I could see no other signs of nests or eggs. The only plant I could find upon the island was a small species of Ficus (£. nitida),* and it was a wonder to me how it could possibly keep a foothold in the crevices and holes of such a barren and inhospitable soil. After seeing all that there was to be seen on the rock, I put off in the whaler for a low sandy beach which lies to the south of it, and spent the morning in wandering through the forest and on the hill-sides. In the afternoon Rooper joined me, and we lunched together in a grove of screw pines near the beach. Among the screw pines there were a few young palm trees and some large aroids. The mid- rib of the leaf of one of these aroids was thirty-six inches 8 This gallant officer soon afterwards lost his life by the accidental dis- charge of a pistol whilst surveying off Murray Island, in Australia. His sad loss was keenly felt by all who knew his open-hearted amiable character and sterling abilities. 4 Ficus witida, Bl. = Urostigma microcarpa, Miq- 34 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. II inlength. During our meal we noticed a rustling among the leaves near us, and, for a moment only, saw the head of an enormous lizard. Before we could seize our guns the beast had disappeared. This was the largest lizard I came across during my travels. Ata rough guess it was probably five or six feet long, the largest one I shot in Talisse being only 3ft.6in. I believe it was a Varanus bivittatus, one of the monitor lizards, so called because they are supposed to give warning of the approach of crocodiles. After lunch we started together upon a little exploring expedition along the coast. When we had crossed the little eee ' ANN NY ip, Ra & y Tra GN He {h Wy A iv LN A S Ui y i si SS Sn SS POOPER POINT Fic. 4.—Sketch map of the Northern portion of the East Coast of Limbé Island. point which I have called Rooper Point, we came toa broad sandy bay left almost dry by the ebb tide, and this we found communicated with a wide marshy lagoon, which, running in a northerly direction, was only separated from the sea of Butterfly Bay by a narrow sandy bar. There can be no doubt, I think, that at one time Rooper Point was an island, that some years ago the northern end of the connecting strait was blocked by a sand-bank, and that, now, the rest of the channel is gradually filling up. In time, perhaps, the lagoon and ‘Flying Fish’ Bay will become dry land covered with dense forest. CH. If ON BOARD H.4M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 35 In many respects the most interesting part of the expedition was the walk across the great sandy flat of ‘Flying Fish’ Bay. It was composed of a mixture of coral detritus and a black stinking mud. Running across it were a number of shallow streamlets draining the water from the lagoon. Where the sand was dry a few Calappa crabs, a few starfishes and gelatincus hydroids, were the only representatives of the animal kingdom; but in the channels of running water there were some large pale green or yellow lumps of the sponge-like Alcyonarian Sarcophytum, a few corals, and here and there a large Fungia, while above our heads a huge fish-eagle (Halietus leucogaster) circled around. In one of the little channels Rooper shot a good-sized conger, probably Bleeker’s Conger anagoides, On the opposite side of the bay we came across a magnificent natural arch in the rocks, and under it lay a little pool of beautifully clear water in which I caught a pair of brilliantly coloured prawns (Stenopus hispidus). The broad bands of bright red across the cephalothorax and abdomen, the remarkably long striped antenne, and the tiny little thorns with which the whole body is beset, give these animals a most gaudy and grotesque appearance. Like many of the brilliantly coloured fishes of the coral reefs, when removed from their proper environment they seem as if they were specially attired to be seen; but in reality their colours are their protection, because they make them inconspicuous. Amongst a crowd of wedding guests it is the unfortunate man without a wedding garment who is conspicuous ; and so amongst the gay colours and strange forms of the coral reef, the sombre-coloured fish or prawn would be most readily observed and fall a prey to its enemies. When we returned to the whaler, which lay off Butterfly D2 86 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. II Bay, the ship was already flying signals for our recall, so we started immediately and went on board. We an- chored for the night in Wallace Bay. August 14.—I stayed on board to-day, owing to a slight injury to my foot, and thus missed the only opportunity I had of visiting the black sandy beach where the maleos lay their eggs. These birds and their strange habits have already been so well described by Wallace and Guillemard (25 and 83) that I must refer the reader to the works of these authors for an account of them. We anchored for the night in Banka Strait. August 15.-—-Harly this morning we left the Banka Strait for Manado, sounding occasionally on the way. CH. Lt ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 387 CHAPTER III ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘ FLYING FISH ’—continued, Sail for Ruang—Visit to the Rajah and the missionary at Tagulandang— Return to Tindela—Back again to the Ruang—‘ Loods ’—Attempt to walk round the Ruang Island—Maleos—Ascent of the voleano—Fauna of the woods—The lip of the crater—Magnificent view of the neighbour- ing islands—Refusal of our guides to proceed to the highest point— Recent history of the Ruang—The lava roads—The descent—Difficultics of the collector—Biarro—Tanjong Aros—Caves— Edible birds’ nests—The foam of the sea—Pollicipes—Distichopora—Farewell to the ‘ Flying Fish.’ August 17.—We left Manado this morning for Tagulandang, a small island about fifty miles distant in an easterly direction. Close to the island, and separated from it only by a narrow channel, lies the Ruang volcano, whose slopes, now partially covered with vegetation, are marked by great roads of black lava and débris stretching from the lip of the crater to the sea-shore. On our arrival, some of the principal natives came off in a canoe to meet us, and they seemed very much astonished when, instead of coming as near as possible to their village, we anchored for the night close to the foot of the Ruang. August 18.—-I went ashore this morning on Tagulandang with Mr. de Vries, a Dutch merchant who had accompanied us from Manado. We were received upon the beach by the Rajah of the islands and his principal officers attired in the correct costume of a black frock coat and white trousers, and by a crowd of natives beating little drums. The Rajah’s house, to which we were forthwith invited, is built 88 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. III entirely of wood and raised on wooden piles about five feet above the level of the ground. It consists apparently of one large room, which may be temporarily divided into several smaller ones by great cotton sheets stretched across it. As we sat and talked to the Rajah, the room gradually began to fill with native men and boys, who squatted upon the floor or crowded along the walls silently watching our every movement with the greatest interest. After a little, finding that we could not get much information from the Rajah, we left his house and walked through the village to pay a visit to the missionary. The houses of the village are situated on either side of a pretty broad road, and with their little garden patches and banana groves have a very neat and tidy appearance. We found Mr. Kelling, the missionary, at home in his little house at the other end of the village. He isa German by birth, but at an early age he left his home and native country to take service under the Dutch as a pioneer of Christianity in the far East. Long past the prime of life now, he has buried two faithful companions who came to share his labours and anxieties; he has suffered terribly from the effects of insufficient nourishment and the ma- larious climate ; a witness of the terrible eruptions of 1871 and 1874, by which he lost many of the faithful members of his congregation, he nevertheless seems willing and contented to pass the rest of his days in solitude and hard- ship for the sake of the sacred cause he has at heart. No one who has seen these faithful men at the scenes of their labour can fail to admire the simple-minded courage and determination with which they spread the first principles of a higher civilisation amongst a savage people. It is true that there are some black sheep even in this noble flock who do an immense amount of mischief amongst the people they are sent to minister unto; but, as a rule, the traveller CH. WI ON BOARD H.M.8. ‘FLYING FISH’ 39 can see in a moment both in the bearing of the natives and the regularity of their homes and villages the beneficent influence of the minister they are fortunate enough to have in their midst. An hour spent with Mr. Kelling, who talked to us in German both of the troubles and anxieties in his work and of the natural history of his highland home, passed pleasantly enough, and then he took us through a grove of screw pines and another of coco-nut palms to a little hill from which we were able to obtain a magnificent view over part of the island, the Ruang voleano, and the sea. Returning to the shore, we found our time was up, so, bidding good-bye to Mr. Kelling, we hurried on board the ‘Flying Fish’ and were soon under way again for our observation island, Tindela. We stayed less than twenty-four hours at Tindela, the object of that flying visit to our observation spot being only to correct by it the determination of the longitude of the Ruang volcano. The spot that Captain Maclear had chosen was a low sandy spit on the southern side of Tindela. It combined the advantage for astronomical work of a considerable sea horizon with an uninterrupted view of many of the most important islands, capes, and headlands in the Straits. It was an interesting place in many other respects, and T have often wandered up and down the sandy shore when the officers were taking observations, watching the crowds of hermit crabs crawling along the sand at high tide or picking up the lumps of water-worn coral and other débris with which the beach is littered. “When the observations were concluded, we hastened back to Tagulandang, and once more we dropped our anchor off the Ruang as the sun was setting. 40 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IIT Before leaving Manado we had taken on board a native of the Gulf of Tomini, named Motiara, who from his knowledge of the navigation of all these islands was em- ployed to make himself as useful as he could as a pilot. He came on board with a large leaf hat, which was painted red all over and had the word ‘ Loods’ (pilot) printed in large white letters in front. This man, whose utility as a pilot was very slight, mainly amused himself while on board by painting and repainting his wonderful hat with any of the ship’s paints he could get hold of, and, under the guidance of the blue-jackets, who were much more adept with the needle than he, in mending the many rents in his scanty garments. As I was anxious to see if the eruption of the Ruang in 1874 had completely destroyed all traces of coral reef round the island, I asked Motiara if it were possible to walk all round the island, and he told me that it was. With the permission of Captain Maclear, he and I started in the afternoon to attempt the walk, but before we had got half way round we came to a low cliff standing well out into the sea. Motiara thereupon calmly informed me that it was impossible to cross that cliff before sunset, and that we must go back. Before finally abandoning the attempt, however, I made the ascent of this cliff alone, leaving my guide contentedly smoking a pipe on the trunk of a tree that had been washed ashore. I struggled on for some distance through a dense growth of leguminous herbs and Cyperacex, but at last, finding that my progress was very slow and that the vegetation, already up to my waist, was becoming deeper and denser asI advanced, I was obliged reluctantly to retrace my steps. Although I did not succeed in my attempt, I gained some insight into the character of the shore of this remarkable island volcano, and I can pretty confidently assert that no coral reef has, CH. III ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 41 as yet, formed on any part of it. The beach is composed of a fine black volcanic sand, upon which may be seen scattered lumps of water-worn tubiporas, astreas, fungias, and other corals. In many places I found the footprints of the maleos, and several little pits where they may have deposited their eggs, but as the island had quite recently been visited by a number of natives from Tagulandang, none of the eggs were to be found. On the following morning (August 21), accompanied by two of the officers of the ‘ Flying Fish,’ a small party of blue-jackets, two native guides and the schoolmaster of Tagulandang, I made the ascent of the Ruang. Plunging at once into the thick undergrowth of leguminous herbs which seems to form a belt surrounding the island just above high- water mark, we soon came to a small thicket of young trees profusely festooned with creepers. Then we came to a broad bare lava road consisting of large lumps of dried mud which broke into a fine black dust as we trod upon them. Leaving this lava road, we plunged again into a wood of young trees with a profuse undergrowth of ferns and grasses. As our guides were frequently occupied for some minutes in cutting a way through the undergrowth, we had ample opportunity of looking around us at the various natural objects that presented themselves. The maleos seemed to be here quite tame, for they would calmly watch us from the branches of the trees until we got within thirty or forty yards of them, and then only, slowly and clumsily flew on a few yards further. Pigeons were in the woods, too, in great numbers. There was the handsome bronze- winged pigeon, Carpophaga paulina, and the beautiful little green dove with a bright red tail. Large and brilliant Epeira spiders hung in the centre of their huge coarse webs. Butterflies and diurnal moths flitted in countless 42, A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. III numbers through the dense foliage, and brilliantly coloured flies fed upon the greenish-white umbels of a small shrub. Now the ascent became steeper and steeper, the under- growth became less dense, the trees farther apart, and at last we emerged upon the bare black rocks and stones of the -erater-lip. Five or six minutes more of hard climbing over loose and difficult ground, by far the most tiresome part of the journey, and at last, footsore and weary, we were able to look into the great crater of the Ruang, and rest _ awhile after our exertions. The crater-cup is not particularly deep, and only a Fig. 5.—-The Ruang Volcano. dozen small jets of smoke were issuing from its sides, but there is a restless and uncanny look about it, which seems to suggest the evil deeds it has done in the past and is capable of doing in the future. The little jets of smoke flicker and spurt from time to time, and, without warning, great slices of the friable walls of the crater dash down the slopes into the cup-shaped bottom accompanied by a dull rushing sound anda cloud of dust. Turning from this scene of restless voleanic energy to the peaceful sea at our feet, a magnificent view rewarded us for the toils of the morning. CH. Ill ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 43 Just across the strait lay the forest-clad slopes of Tagulan- dang, and close by it the little island of Passiac, while in the same direction we could see in the far distance the summit of the Siauw volcano, with the ever-present cloud of smoke hovering over its conical peak. We could not see, however, from that position the mountains of Celebes, for the opposite walls of the crater hid them from view. Our barometers told us that we had reached the height of approximately 1,700 feet, but there was a peak a little to the southward of our position, some 500 feet higher, which rose like the pinnacle of a temple from the edge of the cup. From this point and this alone could we hope to obtain our true bearings with the mountains and islands of Celebes, and consequently we called upon our guides to lead the way to this summit. The guides, however, who imagined that they had already fulfilled their mission, refused, and by telling us that it was not possible, and then that it was not lucky to go there, tried to dissuade us from the attempt. This they did not succeed in,doing, for very shortly they had the mortification, or disappointment shall I say, of seeing our little white surveying flag floating upon the highest point of the volcano. It was by no means an easy task to attain this summit, for nearly every step we took sent showers of sand and stones down the slopes of the mountain, and the heat caused by the midday sun shining upon this black soil was intense. On hands and knees we scrambled up, here surmounting a great black boulder, and there crossing a small patch of soft white ash, but at last we reached the-summit, a small plateau not more than fifty square yards in area, with all the sides precipitous except the one by which we had approached it. We were, in all probability, the first who had ever reached the summit of this peak, for the natives have neither the courage nor the curiosity to make the ascent, and white visitors are 44 A NATURALIST IN CHELEBES CH. III almost unknown in these parts. But even if we were not the first, we were at any rate to be the last, for upon visiting the Ruang a month afterwards I noticed that the greater part of the turret-shaped peak had given way and rolled down into the crater. From this plateau we obtained a view of the sea in all directions, and were able to make such observations as were necessary of the relative positions of the neighbouring islands. It is impossible for me to describe the beauty of the view from this commanding position, for no words of mine can do justice to the richness and variety of the colouring or the tone and boldness of the outline. The clearness of the atmosphere in the dry summer months of this tropical region not only renders objects at a distance re- markably clear and distinct, but seems also to exaggerate the intensity of colouring of sea and forest. The wide expanse of the sea at our feet, of that deep sapphire blue colour which is only met with in the deep waters of the great oceans, framed by the greenish blue water of the shores and coral lagoons, the great expanse of the blue heavens, broken only by a single cloud stationary over the distant Siauw volcano, the infinite variety of green and brown foliage on the forest slopes of the neighbouring island, and then in the far distance the azure mountains of Minahassa in one direc- tion and of the Sangir Islands in another, presented one of those magnificent panoramic pictures which it has rarely been my good fortune to see, and which once seen can never be forgotten. The little island of Passiac, which, as may be seen by reference to the chart, lies only about four miles from the Ruang, was of particular interest to me. The part above water and covered with trees is only a small arc of the rim of a large almost ring-shaped atoll stretching out towards a very wide barrier or fringing reef on the coast OM4 aT} WOM 4oq 4reI}s OULL SONVONVINDVL GNV OVISSVd JO Squat TVaoO—"9 Slt TOTPBAISNTTT UAVS OTT] OFT WIOTY Surtq 09 TIpLvorq UT poonper Aesodind taeq sey spuryst ‘ONVOU FHL JO LINWOAS FHL Woudl CH. Ilr ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 45 of Tagulandang. The presence of atolls and barrier reefs in the neighbourhood of active volcanoes is by no means a common occurrence, and Darwin was inclined to believe that, as volcanoes are usually situated in regions of elevation, this fact was consistent with his famous theory that atolls and barrier reefs are only formed during subsidence of the land. For many reasons which I cannot enter into now I am persuaded that the subsidence theory is not sufficient to account for all the facts, and that the presence of such an atoll as the Passiac so close to a region of quite recent and considerable volcanic activity is difficult to account for under this theory. But, as Ihave spoken so frequently of the volcanic energy of the Ruang, I may be allowed to digress here a little, to relate the story of the recent eruptions as told me by Mr. Kelling, the missionary at Tagulandang. The first recorded eruption was in the year 1811, but that and another in 1835 seem to have done but little damage. On March 8, 1871, there was a terrible explosion, the top of the mountain being blown into a thousand atoms. This was accompanied by a terrible seaquake, the water rising over fourteen fathoms, sweeping away several villages on the coasts of the islands, and followed by a shower of stones and ashes which de- stroyed many lives and the greater part of the crops. It was said that over 400 persons lost their lives by drowning and by the showers of hot stones and ashes. Finally, there was an eruption in 1874, when another fall of stones ruined many of the trees and huts, but no lives were lost. It is very probable that during the eruption of 1871 the whole of the forest on the Ruang was completely destroyed, for there are now none of the large forest trees standing, such as those found growing over every one of the neighbouring islands. Thestonesand ashes thrown out by the volcano, upon falling again on the mountain slopes, were arranged by the 46 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. III action of gravity into broad streaks or roads radiating from the crater outwards to the sea-coast. These roads are composed either of large blocks, big stones or lumps as big as a man’s fist, or of a fine powdery dust. Now those composed of the last material retained the moisture on the surface longer than the others, and consequently seeds brought by the wind, by birds, and other agencies, germinated upon them first and in a very short time the beginnings of a new forest made their appearance. The roads made up of blocks and lumps are, however, not so favourable for the germination of seeds, because the rain soon soaks through them and the sun quickly dries them up again. They thus remain barren for several years after the forest has become established upon the finer soil. In 1885 the slopes of the Ruang were mapped out as in a crude pattern with stripes of young forest and stripes of stones and blocks, presenting a very curious and strange appearance when viewed either from the summit or from the sea (see fig. 5). For some reason, the vegetation ceased about 200 feet below the lip of the crater, and I could find nothing growing there but a few blades of a grass (Imperata arundinacea) and here and there a fern (Blechnum orientale). The wonder is, however, that anything could grow there at all, for the heat of the soil at midday is intense. Many of the lumps of rock were so hot that it was impossible for me to keep my hand upon them for any length of time. Not- withstanding the intense heat, the absolute dryness, and the absence of vegetation, these higher regions were simply alive with insects of all kinds, whose brilliant colours were very conspicuous against the black rocks and stones. These in- sects were preyed upon by numerous swifts, whose shrill cries alone broke the absolute silence of that desolate spot. The condition of the summit of the Ruang seems to be character- istic of the peaks of the volcanic islands in these regions. CH. III ON BOARD H.4MLS. ‘FLYING FISH’ 47 Professor Moseley records the same abundance of insect life on the heights of the Gunong api of Banda and the volcano of Ternate (49). I was on the point of leaving the officers, whose work was not concluded by the time I had finished all that I wished to do, when we saw a little way below us the showers of dust and stones which marked the footsteps of a visitor. Strange as it may seem, the visitor was no other than one of our guides who, braving the wrath of the spirits of his ancestors who dwell for ever at the summit of the mountain, had come to beg a drop of water to quench his thirst. Un- fortunately, our own throats were in the same condition as his, and we had not the wherewithal to satisfy them, so that it did not require much pressure upon my part to persuade him to return with me to the ship. The descent was quickly accomplished, anda plateful of good soup prepared by the excellent Chinese cook soon re- lieved me of my thirst and fatigue. Two hours later the rest of the party arrived, none the worse for the hard day’s work. When I look back upon this visit to the Ruang I feel that in many ways I had greater opportunities for collecting specimens of botany and terrestrial zoology there than I had in the same space of time at any other period of my stay in the tropics. The absence of any old forest trees and the presence of a considerable undergrowth bring the flowers, the birds, and insects, and in fact all objects of natural history, much closer to the hands of the naturalist than they are usually in tropical forests. I regret now exceedingly that my collections from the Ruang are not more extensive, but I admit that at the time I did not appreciate the value of my opportunity, and my anxiety not to be separated from the party during the ascent and the cravings of my flesh for water during the descent 48 A NATURALIST IN CHELEBES CH. III rather cooled, I am afraid, my enthusiasm for adding to my collections. I had hoped before leaving Celebes to have another opportunity of visiting the Ruang and making some collections more at my leisure, but the opportunity never came, and my investigations were consequently never concluded. Such feelings as these, however, are common to the travel- ling naturalist. He always feels, I imagine, dissatisfied with what he has done upon any particular coast or island, and always hopes that fate will bring him there again to com- plete his work. He forgets in his contemplations the difficulties and hardships he laboured under and the thou- sand trifling details which absorbed his time and attention, and perhaps he does scant justice in blaming himself for things he has left undone. It takes a great deal of time and energy to collect plants ‘and birds, butterflies and shells, flies and spiders in a new and difficult country, and one who makes but a rapid march through it cannot expect to obtain many specimens. The feelings of the naturalist upon leaving such a country must be something like those of the visitors to King Solomon’s mines, who left with only one pocketful of dia- monds. August 22.—After cruising about all day taking sound- ings we arrived at about five o’clock off the island Biarro. We found a very good anchorage on the northern side in about twelve fathoms. The time was now fast approaching when the ‘ Flying Fish’ was to leave these waters for the South, and, in the interval, Captain Maclear very kindly gave me several opportunities of dredging in the Talisse Sea from one of the steam-cutters. I propose in a later chapter to give a slight sketch of the results I obtained from these investiga- tions, but I have still to describe before concluding this chapter one other little expedition we made to Tanjong Aros, CH. Ir ON BOARD HAMS. ‘FLYING FISH’ 49 or Stream Cape, the northernmost extremity of the island Talisse. Starting at five o’clock on the morning of August 28, we reached the extreme point of the island before six o'clock. The rugged rocks stand straight up out of the sea, and are capped by a low forest of screw pines and other trees, in which numbers of black baboons were disporting themselves. Al- though the water is not particularly deep, there is no reef off Tanjong Aros, and this may be accounted for, I believe, by the very strong tide which rushes past and gives the name to the point. It must not be understood, however, that because there is no reef there are no corals, for, in the beautifully clear water I could easily distinguish clumps of sarcophytum, brain corals, astreas, and others resting, at intervals, on the white sandy bottom. All that I wish to imply is that the strong tides prevent the corals from growing in such luxury and abundance as to forma reef. The same may be said of the coast from this point to the Kinabohutan Straits, where the upright basaltic cliffs and the great caves and grottoes tell the story of the scouring action of the tides and waves. Immediately to the east of Tanjong Aros there is a little bay, at the side of which are two splendid caves. The one to the north must be about fourteen feet in height, and its walls are whitewashed with the excreta of the bats and birds inhabiting it. The other one is much lower, and we had some difficulty in getting into it in the dingy. It was inhabited by countless swifts of two species of those which build the edible nests (Collocallia esculenta and fusca). These delicate little creatures, terribly agitated by our visit, flitted about in a perfect cloud around our heads. The walls of the cave were simply lined with their nests; and if I had been so disposed I could have gathered thousands of them in a very short E 50 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. III space of time. Contenting myself, however, with a dozen nests and eggs, and two or three specimens of the birds for future identification, I was glad to get away from the stifling atmosphere of the cave, and the heart-rending shrieks of the terrified parents, into the purer air outside. I found that the nests were of a very inferior quality—from a commercial point of view—that is to say, they were com- posed of a very large proportion of vegetable fibre and feathers, and a very small proportion of the consolidated saliva of the bird. These nests were in bygone times of some value, and the cave used to be the ‘ property’ of the Rajah of Manado. Of recent years, however, there has been some dispute as to the ownership of this cave, and I believe that at the present time no one actually claims the sole right to take the nests. As the approach to the cave is not without danger, and the Chinese in Manado now import large quantities of the nests from Borneo and the Philippines, where they can be obtained of very much better quality, the value of this cave has very much diminished, and J believe it is now worth very little. At any rate, I tried to persuade myself that I had not been guilty of committing the heinous crime of poaching on another man’s preserves. There has been a considerable discussion as to the way in which these little birds manufacture their nests; but there can be no doubt now that they are formed by the consolidation of the mucous secretion of the salivary glands. The belief that the little bird makes them by the mastica- tion of a particular kind of sea-weed is now known to be erroneous. The natives, however, have an explanation of the formation of this material which is novel, if not plausible, They pointed out to me that in July and August, when the birds are building, the waves of the sea are fre- quently capped with crests of foam. Thousands of the CH. IIT ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 61 little swifts may be seen skimming over the waves, and as they go they are said to collect a certain quantity of the foam in their mouths, from which they manufacture the mucilaginous material which helps to consolidate their nests. Ii is strange how many things have been supposed by the unlearned of every race and clime to have been born of the sea-foam. I suppose its graceful, ever-changing beauty, both of form and colour, has induced the poetical and fanciful mind to believe that it must contain something that is more than air and water. In our own country it Fie. 7.—Pollicipes. was generally believed that’ the Alcyoniwm digitatum, or Dead-men’s fingers, of our coasts is formed by the churning of the waves, as butter is produced from milk; and the eges of the common whelk, the eggs of cuttle-fishes, and many other objects which are thrown upon the sand by heavy seas, were said to have been born of the ocean’s foam. Aphrodite herself, goddess of love and beauty, was born of the foam of the sea; and many other examples might be quoted from history, legend, and myth, in which similar ideas may be traced. E2 52 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. Itt In the neighbourhood of these bat and bird caves there were several broad ledges of rock covered, of course, with barnacles and limpets, but often bearing small shallow pools containing specimens of the fauna and flora of the sea-bottom. In one of these I obtained half a dozen specimens of the curious barnacle Pollicipes; in another I found a few small specimens of the purple Distichopora. As this was the first time—and, as it happened, the last— I had found Distichopora, I was very anxious to see the polypes alive and expanded, but I was disappointed, for they were all retracted. I fancy that in these shallow pools the polypes are generally expanded only at night or in the early morning, for the sun soon raises the temperature of the water to such a degree that their movements, if expanded, would be sluggish and uncertain. The Distichopora does not belong to the same class of the animal kingdom as the ordinary corals. The animals which build up the vast masses of madrepores, astraeas, and other reef-building corals, are allied to the sea-anemones, but the animals which build up the arborescent skeleton of Distichopora and the great lamin of the millepores are more nearly re- lated to the common fresh-water polype Hydra and its allies. They exhibit, however, a very curious division of labour in their colonies, as Professor Moseley discovered. Some of them are simply stomachs for the reception and digestion of food, while others are simply feelers for catching it. As all the individuals of such a colony are united together by a very complicated system of canals, this arrangement for catching and digesting the food benefits all alike, and is no doubt extremely efficient. The majority of the forms in these pools were, however, true corals. I remember a beautiful piece of a coral called Galacea, most splendidly decorated with bright-green ten- tacles, and a mass of Astrea whose polypes were marked cH. TI ON BOARD H.M.S. ‘FLYING FISH’ 53 with gold and purple colours. But it would take a chapter to describe all the forms of interest and beauty which were to be found within these sea pools. Hach was a mine of wealth for the naturalist. Unfortunately my supply of spirit was at the time not very large, and I was unable to preserve more than a limited number of them; but never- theless I was extremely sorry when my time was up and I Fic. 8.—Portion of the skeleton of Galacea Esperi, reduced to half diameter. was obliged to leave these interesting places to rejoin the cutter. Two or three days after this little expedition to Tanjong Aros the surveying work of the ‘ Flying Fish’ in the Banka Straits was finished, and the time had at last arrived when I was to part for a time from my kind and hospitable friends. A farewell dinner in the ward-room, a hearty exchange 54 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. ur of well-wishes for good health and success, and my ex- tremely enjoyable and interesting cruise on board H.M.S. ‘Flying Fish’ came to an end. I was put ashore in the dingy, and for the first time I passed the night on Talisse Island. The next morning when I awoke the ‘ Flying Fish’ had departed. CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 55 CHAPTER IV TALISSE ISLAND Reasons for settling in this island—Inhabitants and topography of the island —Every-day life in the island—Surface dredging—The ‘ Panchuran ’— Work on the reefs—Food— Temperature and barometric pressure-——In- sect pests—Evening amusements—The coolies-—Diseases of the natives— My house—Attap—The gardens—Deer-kraal—Hill-climbing— Mangrove swamps—Collecting orchids—The plantations—Planting coco-nuts— Ebony—Kinabohutan—Pirates—Banka, Tindela,and Ganga—Absence of coral reefs on shores exposed to the N.N.E.—Our visitors—The post prau—Native songs—The ‘ Minahassa ’—An Arab. Berore describing my life and surroundings in the little island of Talisse I must explain why it was I fixed upon that island for my head-quarters. I required for my in- vestigations a good, vigorous coral reef, not far from my house; I required a sea shallow enough for me to dredge, but at the same time not exposed to monsoons; I also wished to be near a primitive forest and a mangrove swamp, and not too far away from Manado. As all these conditions were fulfilled in Talisse, and as I had already acquired a considerable knowledge of the topography of the Talisse Sea during my stay on board the ‘Flying Fish,’ I thought that I could not do better than make it my head-quarters. I believe now I made the best choice, and that Talisse possesses greater advantages in these respects than any other place on the coast or islands of the north part of Celebes. There is a fringing coral reef varying in vigour and size nearly all round the island. On the east side it is washed by the Talisse Sea, which is over twenty 56 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV square miles in area, in no place deeper than forty fathoms, and fairly protected in all winds and seasons; there is a considerable mangrove swamp in many places on the coast, and more than half the island is still covered with primitive forest. A canoe in the Dutch postal service calls about once a week, and the agent of the Moluksche Handels Vennootschap, a Dutch company that owns the coco-nut plantations on the island, calls on a tour of inspection about once a month. The only disadvantage that I found was the difficulty of hiring for a reasonable price a good seaworthy boat for my investigations upon the sea. Another time I should be careful to hire a boat at the principal town of the district before fixing upon my headquarters. Talisse Island is situated in lat. 1° 49’ 30” N., long. 125° 4/19” E., and is bounded on the north-west by the Celebes Sea, south by the Straits of Tindela, and east by the Talisse Sea and the Straits of Kinabohutan. It is about seven miles long from north to south, and about three miles broad at its widest part. With the exception of a small portion at the northern extremity, which contains the birds’-nest caves, the whole island is owned by the Moluksche Handels Vennootschap, a Dutch trading and culture company, with its head agency at Manado. The company has a resident ‘ opzichter,’ or overseer, on the island, whose duty it is to superintend the clearance of the forest and the planting of the coco-nuts by a band of some eighty to one hundred coolies. Besides the coolies there are a few wandering fishermen belonging to the Sangirese race, who reside temporarily in little tumble-down huts at various places on the coast. In addition to these, the island is from time to time visited by the canoes of those strange, gipsy-like people, the Wadjorese, who wander from place to place, subsisting CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 57 alone on the fish they can catch to eat or barter, and seem to know no home but their frail little outrigged canoes (54). Running down the middle line of the island there is a range of hills from 1,000 to 1,300 feet in height, and from the foot of the hills to the sea-shore there is in many parts of the island a level plain from 100 to 200 yards in breadth. The presence of this broad level plain surrounding the hill- sides cannot be accounted for entirely by any theory of elevation, but rather by the accumulation of soil from the hill-slopes advancing on the mangrove swamps, as I have explained above in Chapter Il. Although I searched care- fully in the watercourses, I could find no evidence of any considerable elevation of the land in this region, nor do I believe that these coasts and islands have undergone any subsidence. The presence of a broad shore platform proves, I imagine, that the land has remained stationary for some considerable time. There are only two constant streams in the island—one at Koa, where I lived, and one on the opposite side of the hill. In the rainy season there are many watercourses. These completely dry up in the summer. The water of our stream was cool, clear, and tasteless, but I always took the precaution to boil it before drinking. The agent of the company allowed me to live in the house of the opzichter for the first few weeks of my resi- dence in the island, but subsequently he kindly provided me with a small but comfortable little house in the imme- diate vicinity containing three rooms. A slight sketch of my daily life in Talisse may not be uninteresting to those whose travels have not taken them so far or into such strange surroundings. Being situated only 2° north of the equator, the difference of the duration of daylight between summer and winter is 58 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV hardly appreciable. For all practical purposes we may say that the sun rises and sets at six o’clock in the morning and evening. My usual custom was to rise between half-past five and six. My flannel sleeping costume was quite suffi- cient dress for the fashions of the island, so that I could, without any fear of losing my social status, read or write for an hour or two before my bath over a cup of coffee without the trouble of further dressing. I had not been long in the island before I found that reading and writing were not to be indulged in at that early hour; it was much too precious for other work, for not only are the birds and insects, which disappear as the sun becomes more powerful, particularly visible at that hour, but it is the time of the day above all others when the surface of the sea teems with animal life. I remember well my disappointment when I first got into tropical waters at finding that my surface-net invariably came up almost empty. It was not until I had been at work some time that I made the very simple dis- covery that in the early morning hours every sweep of the net brings up countless pelagic forms of all sizes and de- scriptions. This may be due to the change in the tempera- ture of the water. The temperature of the surface-waters off the reefs in the middle of the day was as high as 80° F.; in the early morning hours it was often below 70° F. It is very probable that when the temperature of the surface rises above 70° F. these forms sink to a cooler zone a little below the surface, and that they could be readily caught in a tow-net sunk to a proper depth at all times of the day. Thus, after a time, I used to forsake my books and diaries in the early morning for expeditions after birds and insects, or for excursions in a canoe for surface dredgings. At 8 o’clock a.m. one of the two great treats of the day was in store for me. This was the morning bath. Within a Fig. 9—THE PANCHURAN. CH. IV TALISSH ISLAND 59 hundred yards of my house a little stream of water emerged from the hillside, and close by its source a long wooden gutter had been arranged to make a spout, or ‘ panchuran,’ as the natives called it. The ‘panchuran’ had been surrounded by a palisade of split bamboos, and thus a primitive bathing retreat was formed, free from the gaze of the inquisitive natives, who seemed to be always pleased to get a glimpse of the white skin of the ‘ tuan puti,’ or white gentleman, as I was sometimes called. The ‘ panchuran ’ was overshadowed by lofty forest trees and the great leaves of some young sagoweer palms, and these were the favourite resort in the dry season of many of the most beautiful birds of the island. There I often saw that extremely handsome red kingfisher, called by the natives the ‘rajah udan,’ or ‘king of the forest;’ the beautiful parrot (Tanygnathus Miilleri), with its dark green wings and bright Cambridge blue back, and many other familiar friends of my rambles in the forest. How delicious it was to allow the cool fresh water to trickle over me, or to order Manuel to pour bucketfuls down my back! After my bath I went back to my house to breakfast, which usually con- sisted of boiled rice and chicken. From breakfast until lunch I employed myself in microscope work, in skinning birds, or otherwise attending to my collections; but when there were spring tides Ihad to prepare in the mornings for my expeditions to the coral reefs. Low water at spring tides is at Talisse in the middle of the day, and I found that I could work upon the reef for an hour or two, two days before and after the lowest spring tide. On these days (five every fortnight), Manuel and I would start off a little after eleven o’clock, armed with two or three iron buckets, a small case of collecting bottles, a crowbar, and other implements that were useful or necessary for our work. I protected my feet and legs with a pair of water-tight 60 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. 1V Magdala boots, and Manuel wore an old pair of boots I had given him for these occasions, for even his tough feet could not stand the wounds and lacerations caused by this rough work upon the reefs. As soon as the ebbing tide permitted, we waded across the shallow sandy lagoon towards the edge of the reef, and worked away as hard as we could until the flowing tide compelled us to retreat. It was extremely hot work in the middle of the day, with the sun pouring down upon our heads, but as I was generally pretty well wet through all over, and constantly put my head in the water to keep it cool, I was never any the worse for it. I used to enjoy these excursions, however, notwithstanding their great physical discomfort, for the variety and interest there is in every square yard of a vigorous coral reef affords ceaseless amuse- ment and wonder, the difficulty being to devote one’s attention to any particular form or problem, and not to fritter away the time in watching the active movements of the brightly coloured reef fishes, the slow and steady march of the great sea-slugs and star-fishes, the slow and graceful waving movements of the Alcyonarian polypes, or the darting frightened scrambles of the crabs and squillas. I was never sorry when the time came to turn our faces homewards, for, notwithstanding the excitement, this reef- work is extremely exhausting. Sometimes I would fling off my wet clothes when I reached home, and fall fast asleep for an hour or so before lunch; but asI had always a great many things to attend to, I tried to avoid this as often as possible, and get my corals and other things properly preserved at once. In such a climate I could rely upon nothing to keep for an hour. When the thermometer stands at 90° in the shade, a bucketful of water soon reaches a temperature at which all its living contents languish and die, and as soon as anything is dead putrefaction sets in CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 61 immediately and kills the rest. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to attend to my collections as soon as I returned to my hut, and to keep only one or two choice creatures alive in separate glass jarsin the coolest places I could find. At first I was inclined to be dissatisfied that I could utilise only five days on the reefs in the fortnight, but after a time I found that, during those five days, I could obtain more material to work upon than would last for two fortnights ; in fact, the difficulty was to finish the examination and preservation of the material I obtained at one tide before it was time to work upon the next. But, besides this, I found it very important to keep well up to date as far as my writing was concerned. It is surprising how very soon one forgets facts and details which have made such an impression at the time that one fondly imagines they will never be forgotten. Letters, diaries, notes, and labels take up a great deal of time and energy, and it was as much as I could do to keep abreast with the times in that respect. The morning’s work done, I would have my luncheon brought in. I need not enter into particulars: lunch was the same as breakfast, and breakfast the same as dinner. Each meal consisted of boiled rice flavoured with curry and whatever fish, flesh, or fowl I could get. I generally kept a stock of chickens, but, as many of them would run wild in the woods, or be killed by snakes at night, or otherwise disappear, and as my commissariat arrangements with Likupang and \anado were not always in working order, I sometimes ran short of these useful fowls, and then I had to rely upon the produce of my gun. I have tried at times very many kinds of game for food, such as baboons, bats, parrots, sandpipers, pigeons, bivalves of many kinds, and cuttlefish, but, as the resources of my kitchen were limited, I can only say with varying success. Monkey is not bad— I could recommend it as an entrée, but it is too tasty and 62 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV strong for a hungry person. Bats, when thoroughly imbued with Spanish pepper (chillies) so as to disguise completely their own peculiar flavour, are excellent, but great care is required in the cooking of them. The wild bronze-winged pigeons (Carpophaga paulina) are very good, and so are the sandpipers. They can be made palatable even by an inex- perienced cook ; but parrots are inferior as an article of food. The bivalves are not very bad, but, like the fish, are quite inferior to those of colder climates. The natives spoke very highly of the quality of the cuttlefish, but from the specimen I tried—it may have been improperly cooked or of inferior quality, it is true— I should think that first-class india-rubber would be more palatable and digestible. I was not always so badly off as this, however; for after my visit to Manado at the beginning of October I had a supply of tinned soups and vegetables, and a large sack of potatoes, which enabled me to add considerable variety to my table. After lunch was cleared away I often followed the custom of the colonial Dutchman, and turned into bed for a good midday sleep. I found this rest a useful and refreshing one when I was not on any of my expeditions, for it was an excellent way of getting through the hottest and quietest hours of the day, and at the same time a valuable stimulus to the exertions of the afternoon and evening. I spoke just now of the ‘hottest part’ of the day. Perhaps I ought to explain this more accurately. It would never be considered very hot in Talisse by those who are accustomed to the heat of Egypt, British India, or even Java. The average temperature in my hut in the middle of the day was 85°5 F.—that it is to say, about as warm as it is in England on an exceptionally hot summer’s day. I kept regular records of both temperature and barometric pressure, but there is so very little change from day to CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 63 day that the record is uninteresting and monotonous. My aneroid registered 29-9 inches of mercury pretty constantly at nine o’clock in the morning, and 80-0 inches in the middle of the day during the dry season, and rose to 30:1 inches in the middle of the day during the rainy season. The advent of the rainy season was not marked by any dis- turbance of the barometer. So regular, in fact, is the rise and fall of the barometer in these parts, that it is almost possible to tell the time of day by a good aneroid. After my afternoon slumber I would call my boy and start off for a walk in the forest. There were three paths open to me—one running northwards for about a couple of miles, one running southwards, and one across the hill to the other side of the island. Along one of these paths I would start, and plunge into the forest or the mangrove swamp in search of birds and insects. Sometimes I came back quite empty-handed, but I generally had a few new butterflies or some birds either for my larder or my collection. I had practically to do all the collecting myself. I found that Manuel, although a fair shot and expert with the butterfly-net, was not in- dependent enough to do any work for himself. If I had the gun and he the net, he would be much more anxious to find birds for me to shoot than to look out for butterflies himself; and vice versd, if he had the gun and I the net, he seemed desperately desirous of catching butterflies. On my return from these shooting excursions I would indulge in another bath at the panchuran, and then settle down to write my letters and the notes and observations for the day. Writing is not in these coast places an unmixed pleasure after the sun has set, for the scribe is pestered by all kinds of winged abominations, which, attracted by the light and half-killed by the heat of the lamp, perform their 64 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV dying gymnastics in the ink and on the paper. I remember well on one occasion I was visited by a swarm of flying termites that fairly drove me out to seek another occupa- tion. These horrible insects alighted on my table, dropped their wings, and then chased one another.on foot over my paper, up my pen, over my hands, and up my shirt-sleeves in such numbers that it was almost impossible to make a legible mark upon the paper. Fortunately this was quite an exceptional visitation. But the pests that were not exceptional were the mosquitoes. When I first landed in Java I suffered severely from the bites of one or two mosquitoes, but afterwards I found that they became less irritating at the time, and left no lasting discomfort; but I was always cognisant of their presence, and the constant humming and pricking of these little brutes were always more or less distracting to me when engaged in any serious work. When my writing was pretty well up to date I would often stroll round to the opzichter’s house, and spend an hour or two with Mr. Cursham. Fortunately I had on the voyage out learned to speak a little Dutch, so that I could converse with him in a language that was not Malay, of which at the time I knew only a few sentences. But our répertoire of amusements for spending a quiet evening was not very extensive. He had a backgammon board—and many and many a game I played with him in the verandah of his house—and a fairly good musical box ; but even back- gammon becomes tiresome after a time, and the dulcet strains of ‘ Home, Sweet Home’ and the ‘Blue Danube’ (with a few notes missing) fail to charm. On moonlight nights such indoor recreations, however, were hardly necessary, for a stroll on the rickety little pier in the delicious cool evening breeze, listening to the rippling music of the ebbing waters, was a far greater attraction, CH, Iv TALISSE ISLAND 65 As arule, the sea at Talisse is not particularly phosphor- escent, not more so than it is on the coast of Scotland, for example—nor did I ever see any such milky-white seas as 1 afterwards saw in the Banda Sea; but nevertheless the path of a small shark or other predaceous fish was frequently marked out in lines of fire even on moonlight nights, so that there was constantly something to divert my attention. Iwas always on perfectly friendly terms with the natives of the island, and could generally make myself understood, either by signs or language, even by those who were not acquainted with Malay, and many a hearty laugh have we had together in trying to understand one another. The ‘coolies,’ as they were collectively called, varied in number from forty to a hundred or more. They were recruited from Manado, Tidore, Sangir, Talaut, and other places, and often arrived in a half-starved, fever-stricken condition. The Company always had a great difficulty in getting them to stop for any length of time upon the island, for as soon as they had had a few good meals of rice, and had earned a little money, they were anxious to be off again to their wives and freedom—a ‘ Freedom’ which, as a philanthropist, I ought to spell with a capital ‘F,’ but which is, as a matter of fact, synonymous with idleness, sickness, and general unhappiness. Of course, the Company makes contracts with these men to stay so many months, but, as the Government officials are very anxious that there should be no whispered suspicions of slavery in the relations between European individuals and the natives, these contracts are broken with impunity, and the coolies often calmly run away after a few weeks’ work, with some portion of their wages paid in advance. The coolies were under the supervision of two mandurs or foremen, natives of Minahassa, both of whom had lived on the island and served the Company faithfully and well F 66 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV for some years. The wives of these two mandurs were my most constant visitors, and would often spend the greater part of the day chatting with my boys and super- intending the cooking. I soon acquired the reputation of being a medicine-man, and my small medicine chest was a valuable aid to me in establishing friendly relations with these simple-minded people. Their complaints were usually fevers, diarrhcea, boils, and ulcers, all of which I could treat with considerable success; but a very prevalent disease of the eye, consisting of a clouding of the cornea, was beyond my skill. The Sangirese men were very often afflicted with a form of ichthyosis, and were constantly scratching themselves like monkeys, but they never sought relief for it nor seemed to consider it anything but natural. I never saw any cases of measles or scarlet-fever, small- pox, or of any other zymotic disease, nor any traces of syphilis acquired or inherited. Such complaints, however, do, I believe, occur. The natives have a great many medi- cines of their own, obtained by the infusion and decoction of various herbs and fruits, and many of the Europeans who have been a long time in the country, and the half- castes are firmly persuaded that they are much more effective than the drugs of our European pharmacopeeias ; but as the native doctors are able to extract live lizards, nails, and all sorts of things out of a patient’s head when he is afflicted with a headache, I should not feel disposed to place too much reliance on their efficacy. A thorough and systematic study, however, of native medicines might lead to some valuable results. The natives have but little idea of some of the simplest laws of sanitation, and allow themselves to get extremely ill before they seek for assistance. It is wonderful, some- CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 67 times, what a simple remedy will do for them, and how quickly their skin will heal when wounded. I remember on one occasion a man came to me whose legs were nearly covered with large vicious-looking ulcers. He was ex- tremely dirty, and the wounds had been seriously irritated by flies and mosquitoes. I first of all sent him to the ‘ panchuran ’ to wash himself, and then I covered the sores with strips of rag soaked in a weak solution of carbolic acid. On the following morning the ulcers were nicely granulating, and two days later he went to work again, and troubled me no more. As this man was exceptionally dirty when he came to me, I ought, in justice to the Minahassers, to notify the fact that he was Sangirese. I never saw or heard of such a case amongst the Minahassers, partly because they are accustomed to a more plentiful supply of wholesome and nourishing food, and partly because they are more cleanly and particular in their habits. The natives often suffer terribly from large boils, but they come and disappear again in a day or two. The house in which I lived after leaving the opzichter’s was raised above the level of the ground about four feet six inches on piles. The piles and framework were of some kind of hard wood, probably the Eusiderorylon Zwageri, the famous ‘ belian’ iron-wood of commerce; the walls and doors were made of a plait-work of young split bamboos, suspended on frames of thicker bamboos or other wood. This was sufficient to make the rooms quite dark in the daytime, but it would have been but little protection against draughts, if there had been any in the island to be avoided. It was quite possible to pry into the house through the interstices of this bamboo plait-work; and at night, when the rooms were illuminated with oil-lamps, it looked from outside not unlike a large hamper. The floor was made of strips of Arenga wood, tied together by an ill- F2 68 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV prepared string, made from the gumutu or leaf fibres of the same palm. ‘These strips of wood were of various thicknesses, and consequently the floor was very uneven and irregular. The roof was very large, and covered with ordinary attap of Arenga palm-leaves. In some parts of Java attap is made from the allang-allang grasses, but in Celebes invariably from palm-leaves, in the fol- lowing manner. The pinne of the leaves are first of all separated from the mid-rib. The Arenga palm-leaves are often fifteen to twenty feet in length, bearing 100 or more pinne on each side of the mid-rib. The pinne are about four feet in length, and from three to four inches broad when fresh. A lath or rod of split bamboo or reed about six feet long is then chosen and placed in a convenient position, with each end resting on a wooden stool or support. The pinne are then folded evenly over the lath, care being taken that each one slightly overlaps its neigh- bour, and sewn together in position by rattan strings or gumutu fibres. Hach strip thus prepared is called ‘ faras katu’ (22). It is carefully dried in the sun and then put aside until required for use. When a roof is made, several hundreds of these ‘ faras katu’ are placed overlapping one another like the slates upon an ordinary European roof, and it is then called ‘ attap.’ An attap roof is a far better protection against sun and rain than slates or tiles, the only serious disadvantage it possesses being that it affords a cosy retreat for spiders, mosquitoes, and other vermin. My house contained three rooms, one of which I used as a bedroom, the front one as a dining and sitting-room, and the middle one, which was the darkest and coolest of the three, as a library and store. All round the house was a narrow verandah—well protected by the enormous roof—in which I had a couple of tables set apart for microscope work and writing. I had every reason to be satisfied with CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 69 my abode, although it was very much infested with the white ants, and so rickety that a single footstep made the whole house shake, for I might have been much worse off in such an out-of-the-way island. In front of my house was a sandy path which ran a distance of fifty paces to the sea in one direction, and to the panchuran, a distance of a hundred yards or thereabouts, in the other ; joining these were the footpaths to the other parts of the island. By the sea-shore ran a path past Cursham’s house to the pier. On either side of this path had been planted a number of aloes (?), yuccas, hibiscus shrubs, and other garden plants, and it was shaded by two splendid casuarinas, an Acacia cesia, and a number of sour lemon trees. At the back of the two houses were some banana plants, and in a clearing round the flagstaff, which stood in front of the opzichter’s house, a number of pineapples had been planted by Mr. Rijkschroeff, a former opzichter. Immediately in front of my house was a large bamboo kraal, in which two stags and three does of the Cerrus moluccensis were con- fined, and in another, next to it, a fine specimen of the babirusa pig. There was great excitement when, at the beginning of September, the does gave birth to young ones; but the excitement was changed to disgust and disappointment when the unnatural mothers stamped the young to death. In every case, soon after the young was born, the mother, in a fit of puerperal frenzy, stamped upon her offspring with her fore-feet, and in this murderous intent she was immediately joined by the other does and stags. At no little risk—for the animals were all more or less vicious when the young were born—Manuel rescued for me one of the young, and I tried for some days to feed it with bananas, hoping that in time the mother would take kindly to her offspring, but it was no good; the doe remained inexorable, 70 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV and the young one was killed like the others. If I had been able to obtain a good supply of fresh cow’s milk, I would have tried to feed it with an artificial nipple, but that was just what I could not get, and so I was obliged to try again the affections of the parent, with the painful result just mentioned, Besides the companionship of one of my boys, Manuel or Marcus, Mr. Cursham, the half-caste opzichter of the plantations, often accompanied me on my expeditions, and I learned a good deal from his wide and varied know- ledge about some of the details of animal and plant life in these forests. His experience in these matters often left me in the lurch, however, for in swarming up the hill- sides, or in breaking through a bush tangle, he and Manuel could get along so much faster than I could, that I was left a long way in the rear, while they were potting merrily at the birds, baboons, or kusis far ahead. The chief difficulty I experienced in getting along was that the leather soles of my boots became so slippery by walking on the dry leaves that I was obliged to plant my feet with the greatest deliberation and caution to avoid falling down. On some occasions I took off my boots, and went with naked feet, like Cursham and the boys, and then I found I could keep up pretty well; but this is not a plan I should advise a European to adopt too readily, for our feet perspire much more than native feet, and consequently our skin is much more liable to abrasions, and to suffer from the attacks of flies and mosquitoes, than is the hard, dry skin of the feet of coloured men. India-rubber canvas shoes are ex- tremely valuable when climbing up the slopes of a forest- clad mountain ; they give almost as much grip as the naked feet, and are for a time cool and comfortable. When I became more experienced in forest work, I always carried a pair of these with me, and put them on in place of my CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND vee ordinary boots on rising ground or where it was particu- larly slippery with dried fallen leaves. Work in the mangrove swamps was always rather depressing and disgusting. The damp, stifling, stinking atmosphere, the muddy slippery ground, and the swarms of ants, flies, mosquitoes, and other abominations, made the work tiresome and annoying. The mixture, however, of marine and terrestrial faunas, and the varied conditions of life the swamp affords, make it an important locality for the naturalist. The best swamps on the east coast of Talisse —that is to say, those that were the broadest and most luxu- riant—are situated opposite the southern point of Kina- bohutan Island, and about half-way down the coast between Koa and Tindela Straits. The best place, as far as numbers go, to collect orchids is the sandy beach on the shore side of the swamp, where there are usually a number of young or stunted forest trees, bearing parasitic ferns and orchids which are not beyond the reach of a good long pole or rake. Of the many heart-rending disappointments it was my fate to undergo, I think that my experience as an orchid collector was the chief. When I first arrived, and was well enough to search for such things, there were few orchids—in ac- cessible places, at any rate—in flower. The only one I obtained was a species of Grammatophyllum. I set to work to collect a number of the bulbs to send to England. Now, collecting orchid bulbs in the region of the swamps may be an entertaining amusement to other people who are looking on, but it is an unpleasant sport for the naturalist ; so disagreeable is it, indeed, that Manuel, after one day's experience of it, refused to help me any further. The reason is that, as one pulls away the orchid from the tree to which it clings, numbers of large red ants, which are always running over them, turn round and fiercely attack the would-be orchid collector. 72 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV These ants ran up my arms, down my neck, up my trousers, and in a short space of time no part of my body was free from their sharp painful nips. An hour spent in collecting orchids in the swamps made me as angry and uncomfortable as two or three hours of ordinary forest work, and the irritating thing about it was that Manuel, who, no wonder, refused to help me in it, would stand aside and grow gradually more cheerful and amused as my pains and aches increased. By the time the rains commenced Thad a tolerably large collection of orchid bulbs to send home, but they were neglected when I fell ill in December, and had finally to be thrown away, as they had become quite useless for transport to Hurope. The plantations of Talisse were mainly, as I have said above, plantations of coco-nut palms. Coffee and cocoa had been tried, but, with the exception of one or two small patches at the foot of the hills, the soil was not sufficiently favourable to raise a paying crop. The first process necessary for the formation of a coco- nut plantation is the destruction of the primitive forest. Strips of forest are selected, about two or three hundred yards broad, stretching from the crest of the hill to the sea- shore. The wild trees are then ringed by the coolies, with a kind of hatchet knife, and when the leaves are withered, and a favourable breeze is blowing, the forest is fired. The dried trees burn for about a week, the subterranean roots sometimes remaining glowing for months after the fire is apparently extinguished. The strip thus cleared in the dry season is left until the end of the rains, and then the young coco-nuts are planted. The coco-nuts are imported from the mainland or from Sangir in the autumn; a small piece of the outer husk is chopped off with a hatchet to allow the plumule to protrude, and then they are arranged in rows under the opzichter’s CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 73 house until the ground is ready for them to be planted out. I must confess I do not see the utility of thus allowing the coco-nut to germinate before it is planted. The opzichter told me that unless they did so the palm might grow up crooked. This is undoubtedly absurd. It is probable, on the other hand, that if they were not thus partially husked before the rains actually begin, the risk they run of drying up and dying before they are planted would be considerably lessened. When once fairly started, the young coco-nuts grow rapidly and in five years bear fruit. In ten years they are in full fruit, and give but little further trouble. For the first few years of their growth the planter allows a certain number of the young forest trees to grow up with them, so as to afford them shade and shelter. In three or four years these are ringed again and allowed to wither and die. The forest is prepared in strips as described above to afford protection to the young and tender palms from strong driving winds. When a coco-nut plantation is once well established, it is perhaps as good a class of property as could be wished for in the tropics. The trees require little or no care, are free from any serious diseases, and the copra can be easily prepared for export by unskilled labour. The copra-market, too, is fairly constant, and always returns a good profit to the grower. The most annoying parts of coco-nut planting are the initial stages, when many of the young palms and nuts are destroyed by droughts and other unforeseen cir- cumstances, and the fact that there is always a period of some five or six years when there is absolutely no return for the capital invested. In ten years’ time, when the 54,500 coco-nut palms which had in 1886 and previous years been planted in Talisse and Kinabohutan are full grown and bearing fruit, they will yield a handsome profit to the M.H.V. In the meantime 74 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV the most valuable produce of the island is the ebony wood, the Kayu hitam of the local Malay, Diospyros Ebenum of bota- nists. There are several of these trees on Talisse, their long straight, dark unbranched trunks being very conspicuous objects in the forests. The trunks are cut into lengths of two metres each and then carried down tothe shore. These logs of ebony are very heavy; it takes fifteen to twenty coolies to carry one of them. The chatter, noise, and hub- bub they make about the job is very ludicrous. The wood is taken down to the inner side of the coral reef, where it is allowed to remain for some weeks or months seasoning in the water. When a ship arrives bound for Europe, a large raft is formed of light-wood logs and the ebony is floated on it to the vessel. The little island, Kinabohutan, is said to have derived its name from having been used in former years as the burying place of the pirates. Not being an authority in any sense of the word upon the languages and dialects of the Eastern races, I simply record this saying without at- tempting to refer it to any language or to vouch for the truth of the assertion. The word Talisse is, I fancy, derived from the Buginese word —\N ‘AY CZ Talisey, which signifies, according to Matthes (45), the Katapang (TZ'er- minalia Catappa), a tree which is common in the island. According to Filet (17), however, the word Talisseij (Mak.) refers to (Barringtonia speciosa), a tall tree common on the coast of most of the islands of the Indian Archipelago. Whatever may be the etymological derivation of the word Kinabohutan, there seems to be no doubt that it was originally used by the pirates as a burying-ground. Scarcely twenty years ago the Straits of Banka were literally haunted with pirates from the Sulu Archipelago, and, it is said, from the Gulf of Tomini. It was commonly reported to be ‘agstTeg, JO ysvoo oT]y Jo dumea\s oAoASTUNT Ty 4791 9} TO ‘NVLAHOSVNIN GNV ASSIIVL NIAMILT LIVaLs ABL— Ot Out CH. Iv TALISSE ISLAND 15 one of the most dangerous passages in that part of the eastern seas. The island Banka was their chief resting- place, whilst Limbé, Cape Coffin, Ganga, and Talisse offered convenient places for concealment and retreat. It must indeed have been an ideal place for the Malay pirate-king and his dauntless followers. The coral reefs and shallows, the racing tides and currents must have been of great ad- vantage to those possessing local knowledge and resource, and the wide extent of primitive forest, reaching from the hill tops to the sea-shore, must have afforded them endless opportunities for complete concealment and escape on the approach of men-of-war. Thanks, however, to the vigorous conduct of the Dutch navy, piracy in these seas is now practically extinct. We hear no more of those bloody but exciting sea fights such as are found recorded in the voyage of H.M.S. ‘Samarang ’ at Ternate in 1845, and the European sailing vessels and the native rorehis, sopis and praus sail these seas without encountering any dangers but those of the winds and tides. The change in this respect has been brought about by the vigorous action of the Dutchmen, and is almost as marvellous as the change in the character of society in the highlands of Minahassa, which I shall presently describe. The pirates are practically extinct now in the northern parts of Celebes, and, although the stranger may occasion- ally see in Manado or upon the seas a dusky individual with a thin black beard and a certain air of disputed chief- tainship about him, that rumour says was once a captain of the pirates, his life is more likely to be that of a prosaic scoundrel of the nineteenth century than one flavoured with the freedom and romance of a ‘ Paul Jones’ type of hero. Banka is no longer the haunt of pirates and sea-robbers. At Djiko Sago there is a small village of peaceful people who have taken advantage of the two little streams of 76 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV fresh water and the fairly good anchorage afforded by the bay, to carry on their peaceful agricultural and fishing pursuits unmolested and unmolesting. When the herrings come, a certain number of wandering fishermen from Sangir and elsewhere follow them to the bay called Djiko Calimata, and at other seasons some of these same people may often be seen at other parts of the island (21). Kinabohutan now belongs to the M.H.V., and is covered with young coco-nut trees. The neighbouring islands, Ganga and Tindela, do not call for much comment. Ganga has a small village on the western coast, Tindela is uninhabited. They are both covered with bush and scrub. The most interesting fea- ture about them, and one which puzzled me considerably at the time, is that there are no coral reefs on the eastern shores at all, whilst on the western sides the reef is extensive and vigorous. Without more definitive information than I have at my command it is with some hesitation I put forward now the view that this is due to the scouring action of the tide which sets in through the Straits between Kinabohutan and Banka across Talisse Sea and out through the Straits of Tindela and Ganga. Having experienced the effect of this current so often in canoes and sailing ships, I can testify to its strength and regularity, and it is a pity I cannot be more accurate and give in figures its measurement and average duration. Whatever may be the cause of the absence of the coral reef on the eastern shore of Ganga and the vigour and extent of its growth upon the west, it seems to act upon nearly all the promontories of the coasts and islands ex- posed to the N.N.E. If the reader will refer to Map II. he will notice that no coral reefs are marked on the east- ern shores of Ganga and Tindela, at Tanjong Aros and a CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 17 considerable portion of the eastern coast of Talisse be- tween T. Aros and Kinabohutan, at the eastern promontory of Banka Island, at Cape Coffin and the southern shores of Wallace Bay, the northern and eastern coasts of Limbé. From personal experience I can vouch for the accuracy of the Admiralty chart in this respect in most of these places. To carry the problem into other regions, we find it stated by those who have visited these places—and their testi- mony is supported by official charts—that on the eastern side of the peninsula the shores are steep and rocky, with very few extensive mangrove swamps and coral reefs facing seawards. Contrast this with the western coasts of the peninsula. From the North Cape to Cape Piso there are many wide and extensive coral reefs and swamps, and the same at Tanawangko, on the other side of Manado Bay. The obvious conclusion to be drawn from these facts is that for some reason or another—I will not enter into that now—direct exposure to the flood-tide from the open ocean is unfavourable for coral growth. Although our life in Talisse was solitary enough, it must not be supposed that we were entirely without visitors. Once and sometimes twice a week a little post prau from Likupang might be seen coming across the Straits. It was manned by two natives, who announced as officially as they could their approach by sounding the classic triton-shell and flying the flag of Holland. They brought my mails in a thick bamboo to shelter them from the wet, and they always presented them to me with a graceful Oriental obeisance—a form of respect due to one who had so much communication with the outside world. Then there were the fishermen who frequently called for drinking water or to gather bark to twist into impromptu string for their rowlocks. These men would sometimes do 78 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV me the great favour of selling me some fish, but more frequently they would plead that they were taking them to the market at Manado, and my attempts to trade with them were unsuccessful. Then there were the sopis from the Sangir Islands, bringing perhaps a rajah on his way to pay a visit to the Resident of Manado. It was always interesting to see new faces ; and so strong was the sense of security in the island that we never felt the least anxiety about our property when these wandering seamen came to visit us in our settlement. I wonder where else in the world a small colony of planters, almost unprotected and perfectly unprepared, would welcome as we did boat-loads of dusky-looking villains such as these. I may say that my house was often left entirely unguarded; and yet, with two exceptions, I never lost a single article of any value to me during my ten months’ residence in the island; and of the two exceptions I may say that it is quite as likely as not that the things were taken away by a misunderstanding of my instructions rather than by wilful theft. Just behind my house there was a large shed, where frequently the crews of passing vessels would make a fire to roast their pig or cook a turtle or simply boil their rice and spend the evening in a sing-song. For many hours of an evening the wild plaintive songs of the Sangirese sailors would continue, now rising and swelling in a general chorus, now sinking to a low, half-muffled solo. The Sangirese music affected me at first, as I suppose most Oriental music does English ears, as painfully nasal and discordant ; but after listening to it carefully for several even- ings together, and at last recognising the several songs as they were sung, I began to feel their weird spirit and power and even to look forward to hearing them again. The curious and annoying thing about their music was that I found it CH. IV TALISSE ISLAND 79 quite impossible to repeat. I tried in vain to remember one of the most frequent and familiar tunes, but by hum- ming, whistling, or singing I could make no tune at all resembling theirs. Whether this is entirely due to my deficiency of ‘ear’ or to a different number of the notes in the Sangirese musical bar to ours, I do not know, but the fact remains that, although the music of those sing-songs is still rmging in my ears even as I write these pages, I cannot make a sound even now that in any way resembles it. We had but few European visitors to Talisse besides the agent of the M.H.V. The visits of the ‘ Flying Fish’ and ‘Ternate’ were, of course, of exceptional importance and interest to all of us. There was a little schooner called the ‘ Minahassa,’ belonging to the M.H.V., which came occasionally. The captain and the mate of this vessel were Dutchmen. Then a German brig named the ‘ Claus’ and a Danish brig, the ‘Louise,’ came to take a cargo of ebony wood for Europe. One day in December a brig came to Talisse with a cargo of rattans from the Tomini Bay. She flew the English flag, as she belonged to Singapore, but she was the property of the old Arab trader who always sailed with her as skipper. The captain had a harem of five wives on board, all of them Malay women from various parts of the Archipelago; the crew were mostly Arabs and Malays, the others being Chinamen. This captain often came ashore to see me, and told me many interesting things about the people of the Tomini Bay. He had spent the greater part of his life cruising about the Malay Archipelago, barter- ing his clothes and knives and beads for rattans, copra, copal, and whatever other produce he could procure. I was told that he had amassed a very considerable fortune in this trade, and I dare say it is true. But, like so many of the wanderers over the face of the earth, he could not 80 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. IV bring himself, even in his old age, to settle down to a life of retirement and inactivity. T should like to have before me a true history of the experiences of one of these Arab traders. Like all Moham- medans, they seem to have facilities for travelling in un- known, unexplored regions of the world which are effectually closed to Europeans; and I feel certain that some of their experiences amongst the wild Malays must be full of interest and adventure. This Arab captain who visited me in Talisse told me about places in the Tomini Bay which are still blank spaces in the maps, and others which are said to be inhabited by savages dangerous to deal with. It might be said that perhaps my friend the captain was not telling me the truth, and it is quite likely that if there had been anything to gain by it he would not have hesitated to ‘draw the long bow;’ but there was absolutely no reason why he should not tell me all he knew, for he was perfectly well aware that Thad no connection but a friendly one with the Company he was dealing with. When he had discharged his cargo and there was really nothing I knew of to detain him, he was an amazingly long time getting off. On Friday he could not go because it wasn’t lucky; on Saturday the wind was not strong; on Sunday it was not lucky, and on Monday he was not ready. Thus for a whole week he postponed his departure, for one cause or another, from day to day, and every day he came ashore and told me most decidedly he would sail on the morrow. I mention this incident, not because it affected me in any way whatsoever, but as an example of the dilatory life that is led by the Orientals in these regions of the world. I must now bring this general account of Talisse to a close, and pass on to consider some of the most striking features presented by its fauna. CH. Vv FAUNA OF TALISSE 81 CHAPTER V FAUNA OF TALISSE Mammals—Babirusa and sapiutan both absent—The baboon—The cuscus —Bats — Parrots —Eagles—Kingfishers—Eurystomus— Swifts — Crows —Shrikes—Starlings—Nectar-birds—Pigeons — Maleos — Sandpipers — Egrets — Reptiles — Amphibia — Insects — Spiders— Centipedes—Phos- phorescent millipede. Havixe described the details of my daily life in Talisse, I must now devote a chapter to a consideration of the fauna of the island. As might be expected, there are not many terrestrial mammals. Neither the babirusa pig nor the sapiutan is found wild there, although fairly common near Cape Coffin, on the opposite shore of the mainland. As these two animals are among the most characteristic of the Celebean mammals, I cannot pass them by without some notice. The babirusa (Sus babirusa) is a hog which, while closely resembling in colour the ordinary wild pigs, is characterised by possessing a very curious modification of the tusks. The tusks of the lower jaw are very long and sharp, while those of the upper jaw are curved upwards and backwards over the snout as far as the level of the eyes. It has always been a puzzle to naturalists to account for this curious modification of the tusks of babirusa. We hada full-grown male specimen in captivity at Talisse, and I watched it carefully for some months, in hope of being able to solve the difficulty ; but I must confess that I was unable G 82 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. V to observe the animal use them for any particular purpose. I am inclined to believe that they are only useful to the animal when fighting; the tusks of the lower jaw being most valuable weapons of offence, and those of the upper jaw, by protecting the eyes and the fore part of the head, serve as excellent weapons of defence. The babirusa has only been found on the seaward slopes of the Klabat and ‘ Two Sisters’ hills of North Celebes, but I was informed by Mr. Rijkschroeff that it is also to be met with on the Kelelonde and Saputan mountains of the interior. It is also stated that it may be found in the island of Buru. It is a very shy animal, and never comes near any of the native villages and huts (25), but is nevertheless active and ferocious. Of the Anoa depressicornis Wallace says: ‘The sapi-utan, or wild cow, of the Malays is an animal which has been the cause of much controversy as to whether it should be classed as ox, buffalo, or antelope. It is smaller than any other wild cattle, and in many respects seems to approach some of the ox-like antelopes of Africa. It is found only in the mountains, and is said never to inhabit places where there are deer. It is somewhat smaller than a small High- land cow, and has long straight horns, which are ringed at the base and slope backwards over the neck’ (83). It is fairly common on the slopes of the Batu Angus in Wallace Bay, and also lives on the more desolate slopes of the moun- tains of the interior. _ A jet-black baboon (Cynopithecus nigrescens) (fig. 11), with small red ischial callosities and a stumpy tail, is as common in the forests of Talisse as it is upon the mainland. A full-grown male measures twenty-three inches from the tip of the nose to the tip of the tail, eighteen inches from the hips to the tips of the toes, and has a span of sixty-four inches. If it were to stand erect, therefore, it would be a Fic, 11—CYNOPITHECUS NIGRESCENS. cH. V FAUNA OF TALISSE 83 little under three feet in height. These baboons are usually seen in pairs, but sometimes a family of seven or eight may be found together feeding in a tree. Such families invariably consist of a pair of adults and a number of young ones. The natives told me that these baboons, when once paired, remain faithful to one another until separated by death. I should not like to place too much confidence in the veracity of this story ;. but at the same time I should like to point out that any information we can obtain concerning the social arrangements of the Quadrumana is likely to be of the greatest possible interest. Ethnologists have now acquired a very considerable knowledge of the marriage laws and customs of the most savage races of mankind, ancient and modern; but at present we are almost entirely ignorant of the degree of conjugal fidelity of any of the genera or species of the anthropoid apes and monkeys, and consequently considerable controversy exists as to what systems should be considered primitive and what degenerate. I believe, for example, that if we knew more of the habits of the apes, we should find that a system of polyandry never occurs amongst them. The baboons of Talisse are usually to be found in the branches of the trees feeding upon leaves and fruits, grubs and insects of various kinds, but when the tide is low they may often be seen walking over the roots of the mangrove trees picking up and munching the mollusks and small crabs they find in the swamps. A fairly common mammal in Talisse is the Cuscus celebensis, a slow, awkward, nocturnal, frugivorous animal, rather larger than a cat. It lives entirely an arboreal life, and can only move slowly and awkwardly when placed upon the ground. It usually hangs suspended from the underside of the branches by its four feet and long prehensile tail. The young are carried on the back of the female with their G2 84 A NATURALIST IN CHLEBES CH. V tails firmly twisted round hers. The flesh of the cuscus is rather tough, but quite palatable. When I was in Manado, a native brought me a male, a female, and a young one alive, but they refused to eat the fruits and leaves I offered them, and soon sickened and died. It is rather strange that in this little island the only conspicuous mammals inhabiting the forests should be representatives of two widely distant great zoological regions. The tailless baboons are characteristic of the African fauna, the cuscus of the Australian region. The island of Celebes is the northern limit of the genus Cuscus, and with the exception of the island of Batjan, where it may have been introduced by man, the southern limit of the genus Cynopithecus, and yet here we find them, living together in the same forests, and the only large mammals of the island . A small squirrel (Sciwrus murinus) is fairly common, but, as it is very sharp and shy, I could only obtain one or two specimens. There are several species of bats to be obtained. A large fruit-eating bat (Pteropus Wallacei ?) may be seen fly- ing about amongst the trees every evening as the sun is setting. The Cynonycteris minor is also very common, and I obtained a fine specimen of a female Harpyia cephalotes with a young one clinging to its mother’s nipple by its mouth, and holding on firmly to the hair of her breast by its little claws. This species is readily distinguished by the bright yellow spots on its wings and body, which, however, lose much of their brightness after a long immersion in spirit. It is a very curious fact that whilst the specimens of Harpyia cephalotes obtained in Celebes have longer forearms than those obtained from any other parts of the world, the CH. V FAUNA OF TALISSE 85 average measurements of the forearms of Cephalotes peronii are smaller in the specimens from Manado than those from other parts of the Archipelago (see Appendix A). It is difficult to form any very consistent theory to account for these remarkable facts. It may he, however, that the struggle for existence among bats is so keen in Celebes that only the extremely long-winged forms and the extremely short-winged forms have been able to compete in the conditions of life. _ One day, as I was passing the house of one of the man- durs, I saw a little boy with a beautiful little bat attached to a piece of string. For a small consideration I persuaded him to give it to me, and the next day he brought me another of the same kind. This bat has a body not much larger than that of a mouse, covered with long bright reddish brown hair, and the iris is quite white. It belongs to the variety fulvus of the species Phyllorhina bicolor. It has a very wide distribution, occurring in Ceylon, Sumatra, Java, Amoy, Celebes, Amboyna, but the colour varies from bright yellow to dusky brown. The specimens I obtained in Talisse are decidedly redder than any of those in the British Museum or the Rijks Museum at Leyden. A few field notes on the birds of Talisse may not be out of place in this chapter. It is true I cannot add a single new species to the known birds of Celebes, nor can I say much about any birds that are not well known to the orni- thologist, but my excuse must be that while naturalists in these regions have endeavoured to make their lists of the avifauna as complete as possible, they generally fail to give an idea to the general reader of the birds in any particular spot which are common and of every-day occurrence. My object, then, will not be to give a complete list of the birds known to inhabit the island of Celebes—for that has already been done by such competent ornithologists as 86 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. V Lord Walden (80) and Blasius (6)—but rather to say a few words about the feathered friends I met on my daily walks, as one [would describe the blackbirds and thrushes, the sparrows and martins, the rooks and magpies of our own country. The only parrots on the island belong to the species Tanygnathus Miilleri. They are handsome green birds, with a patch of light creamy blue on their backs. They are very common towards sunset in the lower branches of the trees, and keep up a constant chattering noise until past midnight. The adult males can be readily dis- tinguished by their bright scarlet bills, the bills of the hen birds being almost invariably white. Some ornithologists consider that there are really two species of this parrot because a few specimens of hen birds have been found with a scarlet bill and some cock birds with a white one, but I must agree with Meyer (46) that this view is erroneous. My boys and I shot a great many of these birds, partly to settle this vexed question and partly for food, and I found without exception that those with scarlet bills were males, and those with white bills were females. They live together in the same trees and fly about together in the same coveys, so that I feel perfectly convinced that they belong to the same species. It is very rarely that we find birds of two species so closely allied as these would be living together in any numbers. The struggle for existence is so keen in the tropical world that the laws of natural selection would soon pick out that species which was the better fitted for the environment and the other would go to the wall. We should, therefore, not expect to find that there are two closely allied species of this genus of parrots living together and feeding on the same fruits in this little island, and the burden of the proof goes to show that there is really only one. Tam surprised to read that Mr. Wallace (82) found that CH. Vv FAUNA OF TALISSE 87 the natives universally recognised these birds as two species, because my experience is that the natives of Celebes uni- versally recognise them as the same bird; and, moreover, look upon the one with the scarlet bill as the ‘ lakki-lakki,’ or cock bird, and the one with the white billas the ‘ peram- puan,’ or hen bird. Dr. Meyer considers the parrots with white bills to be younger specimens, and that the scarlet bill is a sign of age. I-have seen some hens with a bill slightly tinged with red, and it is very possible that they may have been older birds than the others ; but if the bills of the hens do eventually turn scarlet, I should think, from the large number of them I obtained without any such tint, they must change very much later in life than those of the cock birds. The natives call this bird the ‘ Burong Kakatua,’ but this name, it must be remembered, is applied by them to all parrots and cockatoos in general. There are several large birds of prey in Talisse, but, as they have wonderfully keen sight and are very shy of human beings, it is very difficult to get within range of them. The great osprey (Pandion leucocephalus) has an expanse of wing of four feet. I saw several of them hovering over the forest of Talisse, but I never got a shot at one. The only specimen I obtained was shot for me by the Dominie of Manado in a rather remarkable way. It was on one of the Saha islands in the Talaut group. A small party from the ‘Ternate’ had landed on the island to shoot birds for me, and the Dominie was armed with one of the Government rifles used by the colonial navy. As we pro- ceeded through the bush, two or three of these huge birds rose from the trees and whirled round and round some con- siderable distance above our heads, uttering the most piercing cries. The Dominie fired, and at the third shot brought down one of them. Now to hit a bird on the wing with a rifle bullet is at all times a difficult task, but the conditions 88 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. V of this shot were so exceptional that it is worthy of being classified as a ‘ crack’ shot, and should be recorded with a certain amount of respect. At the same time, I cannot recommend to ornithologists the Dutch naval rifle as the best weapon for use in collecting specimens, for the bullet is apt to derange the feathers. I found in the crop of this specimen a partially digested starling (Calornis neglecta), but both this great osprey and the sea-eagle (Halietus leu- cogaster), which is very common in these parts, mainly prey upon fish. I have often watched them for hours from the pier at Talisse fishing in the shallow waters of the reefs. They hover over the water for some time and then suddenly splash into it, seize an unfortunate fish with their claws, and sail away majestically to their home in the forests. A bird, often seen on the orange trees and the higher branches of the trees in the mangrove swamps, is the beautiful brown falcon (Erythrospiza trinotata). The only specimen I obtained was shot for me by Cursham’s boy on an orange tree just in front of my hut. I had been out shooting all the afternoon, and on my return I found this bird lying dead upon my table with a little skewer of wood through its breast. The boy, who boasted of the name of ‘Solomon,’ noticed the bird as he passed my hut on his way to the panchuran, and, finding that I was out, hastily manufactured a blowpipe from a piece of bamboo, and using a dart of the same wood and a little plug of cotton wool, at the first shot pierced the bird through the heart. Now this was not only an excellent example of the ease and accuracy with which the natives of these islands can use the blowpipe, but, as nota single feather was displaced in the operation, and scarcely a drop of blood spilt, an instance of the superiority of the weapon in many respects over fire-arms for collecting specimens. I am afraid, however, that it will never come into general CH. V FAUNA OF TALISSE 89 use, for it would require much patience and practice for a European to use the weapon with such accuracy as this, and the natives, when opportunities arise, infinitely prefer the pomp and vanity of fire-arms. Another falcon, rather larger than this (Spilornis rufi- pectus), is also fairly common in the mangrove swamps. I saw one of these birds nearly every day not far from my house, but could never get a shot at it until at last one day I managed to break its wing as it rose from a mangrove tree. I had started out that afternoon with the intention of collecting insects only, and had left my guns behind, taking with me only some nets and collecting bottles. As I passed this tree, however, I saw the falcon within easy range of my gun, and instead of flying away, as he usually did when I approached, he calmly sat and looked at me first with one eye and then with the other, as if he were making quite certain that I had no dangerous weapon about me. This was too much for me, so I hurried back to my hut and returned with my gun just in time to indicate to him that he had been for once a little too bold and that I wished to add him to my collection. I saw several other specimens afterwards, but never one that was anxious to repeat the experiment. The Poliornis indicus is not so often met with in Talisse as the other rapacious birds, and is, I fancy, purely a forest dweller. I never saw one in the swamps on any occasion, and the few specimens I found were usually some two or three hundred feet above the sea in the depths of the forest. The general native name for all the large birds of prey is Kohéba: thus, the sea-eagle is usually called the Kohéba besar, or big eagle; the osprey, Kohéba gunong, or osprey of the mountains, and so on; the Erythrospiza, however, is usually called the ‘ Sikip abuabu.’ Some of the most beautiful of the many beautiful birds 90 A NATURALIST IN CEHLEBES CH. V of the Malay islands are the blue kingfishers. They are seen in nearly every field and road-side, and their plaintive cry of ‘ kiss-kiss ’is one of the most familiar sounds to the field-naturalist. The commonest species in Celebes is the Sauropatis chloris, a beautiful little bird with a white body, bright blue wings, and a long jet black bill. On nearly all my walks near the swamps or water-courses I found them skipping about on the huge leaves of the young coco-nut trees or feeding among the roots of the mangroves. They were by no means shy birds, and I could often get quite close to the trees upon which they were perched and watch them for some minutes before they became frightened and flew away. The natives call them ‘ Kiss-kiss,’ from their cry. A less common but by no means rare bird is the Halcyon coromanda, one of the most beautiful of the king- fishers, called by the natives ‘ Rajah udan,’ or king of the forest. One of these, which I never had the heart to shoot, was nearly always to be seen perched on the bamboo palings of the panchuran when I took my morning bath. It has a dull red body and wings, with a patch of very brilliant light blue in the middle of its back. The bill is very long and thick, and has the same dull red colour. My boys shot a specimen for me one day, but I found it by no means an easy task to make a good skin of it, as its bill was so large and awkward to pass through the neck. Another little kingfisher (Alcedo bengalensis) I occasion- ally met with in the mangrove swamps, but it is not so often seen as the other two. The cuckoo to which I have already referred and the Eurystomus orientalis are occasionally met with. The Eurystomus is one of the most fearless birds in the island. He will sit upon his perch in a low tree or shrub flapping his wings and uttering a series of ‘ kiak-kiak’ cries while his enemy approaches and he seems to have no fear of any CH. V FAUNA OF TALISSE 91 consequences that may ensue. On the first occasion I came across this bird he was sitting on the top of a small dead stump a few yards only from the spot where I had cut my way out of the mangrove swamp, and he was really so close to me that I was afraid of injuring the specimen. I waited a few minutes to slip into my gun a cartridge lightly loaded and with very small shot. I had plenty of time, however, to take deliberate aim, and the bird came down uttering most piercing shrieks. At the sound of his cry four or five scissor-tailed birds, which I had not noticed before, came out to join in the hubbub, and from the noise they made I assumed that they were rejoicing over the death of an old enemy. My boys called this bird ‘ Koko- taka,’ but Meyer (46) says that the native name is ‘ Tjetje.’ Three kinds of swifts are very common in Talisse—two of the birds which build the edible nests (the Collocallia esculenta and fusca), and a larger bird with very long wings, the Macropteryx Wallacei. They may frequently be seen perching on the trees of the mangrove swamps or skimming over the waves of the sea in search of food. The two Collocallias build their nests in the almost inacces- sible caves of the sea-shore, as described in a previous chapter, but I searched in vain, both in Talisse and else- where, for the nests of the Macropteryx. The native name for the Macropteryx is ‘ Pavas.’ The Corvus enca is a crow very commonly seen in the coco-nut plantations. In size, shape, and cry it very closely resembles our English crow. But the Celebean bird seems to be rather smaller than those from Java, Sumatra, and Borneo (24). The native name for it is ‘ Woka-woka.’ A shrike called by the natives ‘Burong maspas,’ or ‘Kukt inewahat’ (24), and the handsome black drongo- shrike or scissor-tailed bird, Chibia leucops, or ‘ Burong 92 A NATURALIST IN CELEBES CH. V gunting,’ are as common as the blackbirds and thrushes of our English woods. The latter is a very handsome jet black bird, with two long tails which open and shut during flight like a pair of scissors in action. There is a starling, too (Calornis neglecta), frequently seen in thousands upon the dead trees of the forest. It is of a uniformly dark colour, with a brilliant orange-red iris. The native name is ‘Sié.’ It is but rarely seen in the forests and fields of the main island, but is nevertheless quite the commonest bird met with throughout the islands which lie between Celebes and the Philippines. I found it in numbers in Tagulandang, Siauw, Sangir, Talaut islands, and the Nanusa islands.! A beautiful golden oriole (Oriolus celebensis), reminding one of the English bird, is occasionally seen. It is called the yellow bird, ‘ Burong kuning,’ by the natives. The smallest and at the same time the most domesti- cated of the birds of Talisse are the beautiful little nectar- birds (the Anthothreptes celebensis), called by the natives ‘Burong chuwi.’ They may be seen upon nearly every hibiscus shrub in the gardens behind my hut, and seem to be always so busy searching for insects upon the leaves and flower stalks that they hardly know what it is to be shy. The male has a most brilliant little head of green and pink and brilliant metallic colours; the throat is dull brick red, the breast pale yellow, and the back covered with a bright violet and green metallic gloss. Every specimen is a perfect little bird gem. The female chuwi is not nearly so brilliant, the back and breast being of a rusty pink and the wings of a dull golden green colour. There were several kinds of pigeons, the commonest and at the same time the most conspicuous being the 1 The variety of this bird found in these islands is regarded by some ornithologists as a separate species (67). cH. V FAUNA OF TALISSE 93 large fruit-eating bronze wing (Carpophaga paulina). The breast is of a creamy pink colour, and the wings dark green, with a very well marked reddish-copper gloss. Its native name is ‘ Kum-kum,’ which approximately describes in words its deep musical cooing song, which is not unlike that of our common wood-pigeons. I usually found them in pairs, perched on some of the highest branches of the trees, and many an anxious moment have I spent, when my cupboard was bare, waiting to see if my fowling- piece would be effective at such a distance. The feelings of a hungry naturalist when he sees a really edible bird calmly waiting for the next shot are better imagined than described. The grey pigeon, ‘ Kum-kum putih’ (lyristicivora luc- tuosa), is not very common in Talisse, although it abounds in the neighbouring islands.