Pi Amie Rh bye Hie He in i : ere ; Pw ae. . bi BN Oto Sines eon is cae bh A ymin ie ice Ge We om che nore eR teh ss avsatinw ies! Scehien Rite fea warodeg gee aT ere eA, chet saiees 2 +i Ly! 2 rier een IE aire we ey od wy voeeeee + ete rE em” LEIGHTON BRO ATER: (az A NATURALISTS WANDERINGS IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO A NARRATIVE OF TRAVEL AND EXPLORATION From 1878 to 1883 / BY wf HENRY 0. FORBES, F-R.GS. MEMBER OF THE SCOTTISH GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY ; FELLOW OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON MEMBER OF THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITUTE OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND MEMBER OF THE BRITISH ORNITHOLOGIST’S UNION WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS FROM THE AUTHOR’S SKETCHES AND DESCRIPTIONS BY MR. JOHN B. GIBBS NEW YORK f HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 1885 24 OK rey “t TO THE MEMORY OF MY FRIEND AND CLASS-FELLOW AT THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH, Gilliam Alexander forbes, B.A. F.LS., F.GS., &c., FELLOW OF ST. JOHN’S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE; PROSECTOR TO THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON; WHO DIED IN AFRICA IN JANUARY, 1883, WHILE LEADING A SCIENTIFIC EXPEDITION ALONG THE RIVER NIGER; AND WHO, ALREADY EMINENT FOR ENDURING WORK ACCOMPLISHED IN ZOOLOGICAL SCIENCE, WAS IN FUTURE PROMISE PRE-EMINENT OVER ALL OF HIS TIME, This Volume is affectionately Dedicated, PREFACE. — + Mr. A. R. WAtLace’s ‘ Malay Archipelago’ is so accurate and exhaustive an account of the Eastern Isles, that there have been left but few gleanings for those who have followed him to gather. Most of the islands visited by me were also visited by him; but my route has in each island been altogether _ different.from his. In as far as it refers to islands visited by both of us, I should desire this volume, which is a mere transcript of what I have thought the more interesting of the field notes made during my wanderings, to be considered in the light of an addendum to—unfortunately without any of the literary elegance and finish of—that model book of travel. No detailed account of the Timor-laut Islands has appeared before the present; and very little has been published on the inhabitants of the interior of Timor.* In the chapters devoted to these lands I have contributed some ethnological notes which I trust may be found new and of interest. Before I allow this volume to leave my hands, I have the pleasant task of acknowledging my indebtedness to many friends. Besides those whose kindness I have referred to in the body of this work, I have in the first instance to beg their Excellencies Van Lansberge and ’Sjacob, the two Governors- General of Netherlands India during my stay in the Archi- pelago, to accept my grateful acknowledgments for their many * «As Possessdes Portugezas na Oceania, por Affonso do Castro, membro da Sociedade de Sciencias e Artes de Batavia; Deputado da nacido, &c., ex- Governador de Timor: Lisboa, 1867,’ contains an interesting account of some of the customs of the people of E, Timor. PREFACE. generous concessions and the aid granted to me as a ey traveller. My thanks are due also to all the civil officia im too numerons to name here—whose districts I resided in or passed through. They upheld the well-deserved fame that the Dutch-Indian Ambtenars have earned for their hospitality. The mention of each of their districts is indelibly associated in my remembrance with their names and their numerous acts of kindness. I may be permitted to record the names of those to whom I am under special obligation: Governor Laging Tobias, then Resident of Palembang; Assistant-Resident Schuylinburch, of Muara-dua; Controllers De Heer and Bey- rinck, of the Lampong Residency; and Controllers Van der Volk, Hisgen, and Kamp, of the Palembang Residency. ‘To Dr. Treub and Dr. Burck, of the Botanical Gardens in Buitenzorg, | am peculiarly indebted for more than ordinary acts of courtesy and friendship; as well as to Dr. Bemelot Moens, Director of the Cinchona Plantations. To His Ex- cellency Senhor Bento da Franga Pinto d’ Oliveira, the Governor of Portuguese Timor, to his whole family, and to his son Senhor Bento da Franca Salema, Government Secretary, my wife and myself lie under the deepest indebtedness, not alone for the aid and protection I-was so generously provided with to enable me to visit the interior of that interesting island, but for the most affectionate kindness manifested to us both throughout our stay in Timor. To Mr, H. D. Jamieson, Mr. J. Craig and Mr. C. Haliburton, who did for us many acts of personal kindness and friendship while in Jaya, I tender my sincerest thanks, ; [ have to express my very hearty obligations to the British Association’s Committee for the exploration of Timor-laut, especially to Dr. P. J,. Sclater; to Mr. Carruthers and the Botanists of the British Museum for their aid in arranging Timor Herbarium, and for their describing it in time to appear as one of the appendices of this volume; to Messrs, S. O. Ridley and J. Quelch, of the Zoological Department; PREFACE. vil and to Mr. R. Bowdler Sharpe for his kind revision of the proof sheets of the ornithological lists, as well as for his willing aid in the determination of the birds I obtained. It was Mr. H. W. Bates, the Author of the‘ Naturalist on the Amazons,’ who in my boyhood first inspired me with a desire to visit the tropics; and he, in later years, has ever with ready cheerfulness aided my inexperience by sound and _ friendly advice. Lastly but chiefly, I must acknowledge a heavy debt of gratitude to my friend Alexander Comyns, LL.B., of the Middle Temple, for more acts of kindness, as my constant correspondent and counsellor during my absence, than can be ever sufficiently acknowledged or repaid. I cannot close without adding one word of recognition of the companion of my travels, whose constant encouragement and valued aid lighten all my labours. x Henry O. ForsBes,. RupisLaw DEN, ABERDEEN, January 30, 1885. fre Ah ae SN ie | CONTENTS. P Adel) IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. CHAPTER I. IN BATAVIA AND BUITENZORG. PAGE Arrival in Batavia—First impressions—Buitenzorg and its Botanical Gardens .. og és = ad - os aS * 3 CHAPTER II. SOJOURN IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. Start for the Cocos-Keeling Islands—In the Straits of Sunda—An unex- pected pilot—Arrival—History of the colony there—Terrible cyclones —Home life of the colonists now—The reef and its builders—Fishes in the lagoon—Crabs and their operations—Plant life—Insect life— Mammals—Birds - o ee ~ Ma ie oe ne CHAPTER III. SOJOURN IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS (continued). Coral reef formation—Observations on the elevation or subsidence of the Keeling Atoll. .. “ Be a5 me ie a as) 00 APPENDIX TO Part I. oe Ee es ae oe ne Pail. fee PAE EEE IN JAVA. CHAPTER I. SOJOURN AT GENTENG IN BANTAM. On the road—The Sundanese language—Every man a naturalist—Bird- life at Genteng—Weaver-birds’ nests—A native rural bazaar—Forest devastation—Geological structure of the district—A wonderful case of mimicry in a spider. .. ae a ais He se meee Os CONTENTS. CHAPTER II. sOJOURN AT KOSALA IN BANTAM. Leave Genteng—Native blacksmiths at Sadjira—Hot springs of Tjipanas Birds and plants at Tjipanas—Inyitation to Kosala—The Kosala estate—The curious disease Lata—The Wau-wau—Birds—Bees— White ants—Great trees—Long drought and its consequences—The Hemileia vastatrix, a fungoid blight and the buffalo diseaseo—Flora and fauna of Kosala Mountains—Singular living ants’ nests and their development—Orchids at Kosala and some curious devices for secur- ing self-fertilisation—Ancient remains in the forest-—The Karangs and their curious rites—The Badui—Religion and superstitions of the people of Bantam—Leave Kosala... Hf: re of CHAPTER III. SOJOURN AT PENGELENGAN, IN THE PREANGER REGENCIES. Leave Buitenzorg for the Preanger Regencies—Journey to Bandong in a post-cart—Bandong—Thence to Pengelengan—Visit to the famous Cinchona Gardens of the Government—Plant-life in the surrounding mountains—The Upas-tree—Crater flora—Land slips and the hi of rain—Interesting birds—'Lhe Badger-headed Mydaus—The nteng, or wild cattlke—Wild dogs—Leave Pengelengan for Batavia Arrenpix To PartIl. .. as as ‘h a “ ee PART. TIL. IN SUMATRA. CHAPTER I, SOJOURN IN THE LAMPONGS. Leave Batavia for Telok-betong—Lampong Bay—Telok-betone—Leave for Gedong-tetahan—Forest scenery by the way—LEscape from a tiger—Flowers in the forest—Gedon-tetahan—Birds and insects there-—Move to Kotta-djawa—The village—Ruthless destruction of the forest—Trees—Entomological treasures—Move to Gunung ‘Trane —The pepper trade—Birds there—Interesting butterflies .. E CHAPTER II. SOJOURN IN THE LAMPONGS (continued). Move towards the Tengamus Movntain—Butterflies thither— liohmomon—The Balai, a characte scent of the Lamponge-s—Their language—D s found on the journey ristic institution—De- eee PAGE 66 105 118 125 ivisions of the province _, CONTENTS. Rt PAGE —tTitles and dignities—Ornaments—Festivities and amusemeuts— Marriage customs—Move to Penanggungan—Petroleum and paraftin matches — Penanggungan — Great trees—Interesting plants and animals—The Siamang—Move to 'Terratas—Ascent of the Ten- gamus Mountain—lIts tlora and fauna—Return to Penanggungan and to Batavia “ ote fs ‘is a ee Fi: eG) CHAPTER IL. SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY. From Batavia to Anjer—Return to Telok-Betong —Proceed to Beneawang —Leave this for the Blalau region—Camp at Sanghar—Camp in the forest—Phosphorescent display —Camp again in furest—Reach Bumi- padang—Pass on to Batu-brah—Description of the village—Move on to Kenali—Description of the village—Proceed to Hoodjoong—De- scription of the village—Its tobacco industry—Its rice-fields—Plant- ing and reaping—Superstitions—Goitre—Fauna and flora of the Besagi volcano— Birds and insects of the neighbourhood —.. Gear lO CHAPTER IV. SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY (continued), Leave Hoodjong—Denudation—Great arums—Sukau—Chiefs of the Ranau region—Tandjon-djati on the Ranau Lake—The bigh tempera- ture of the water—Birds, fishes, interesting insects—Banding Agong —To Muara Dua— Through Kisam — Geological notes —Kisam villages—Coat of arms—Writing, dress, religion of Kisam people .. 174 CHAPTER V. SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY (continued). From Gunung Megang—Luntar—A surprise—River Ogan—Curious hills—Ornamental carving—A village fair—A cock-fight—Into the TInim Valley—Muara Inim—Lahat—-Passumah Lands—Ceremonial formulas—The people—Marriage ceremonies—Illegitimate births— Religion—Death superstitions and rites—Sculptured stones—Inter- esting visit from Bencoolen men ABMS ZeE RUE 5 reli saan Mi a ee Go CHAPTER VL SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY (continued). Passumah Lands (contd.)—The Volcano of the Dempo—Its flora and fauna—The crater—Spectre of the Brocken—The view from the summit—Leave for the Kaba Volcano—Gunung Meraksa—River journey on a raft—Lampar—Find again the spider Urnithoscatoides decipiens—BatupantjeiiA. marriage scene—Games of the boys— Houses—Tebbing-Tingei—Tandjong-ning—Great trees—My party attacked by a tiger—Its wiliness—Its capture—Graveyard .. 2.8, 206 xii CONTENTS. i AN RSS SRI a CHAPTER VII. SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY (continued). PAGE Leave Tandjong-Ning—Padang Ulaix-Tandjong—Kepala Tjurup—Hot springs of the Kaba—Earthquake—Botanical features —Curious plants—Fertilisation of Melastoma—A pilgrimage—The crater of the Kaba—Ihe nomadic Kubus—Rupit river scenery—Gold- eatherers—Muara-rupit—The Durian—Surulangun—thieves and thieves’ calendars—Malay dignity—Leave for Muara Mengkulem.. 225 CHAPTER VIII. SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY (continued). Muara Mengkulem—Refised entrance into the Djambi Sultanate—Napal Litjin—Peak of Karang-nata—Geological formation—Botanical , features—Birds—Hemipteron milked by ants—Rakit life—Bigin- telok—Water roads—An escape from drowning—Pau—River squall - —Approach to Palembang—River life and its massive joy—The town of Palembang—Return to Batavia fi a oe «. 200 Arrenpix To PartIll. ., ? es Be ae ee =. eo PART IV. IN THE MOLUCCAS AND IN TIMOR-LAUT. —_—_ CHAPTER I. FROM JAVA TO AMBOINA. Sojourn in Buitenzorg, Java—Leave for Amboina accompanied by my wife—Friends on board—Call at Samarang and Seurabaya in Java— Macassar in Celebes—Bima in Sumbawa—Larantuka in Flores— Cupang and Dilly in Timor—Banda, the island of nutmeg gardens,. 283 CHAPTER IT. AMBOINA. Amboina—Reception by Mr. Reside Amboina—Paso—Move to W fauna—Return to Amboina lent Riedel—Delay—Visit interior of ai—The people there—The flora and -- 288 CONTENTS. xiii CHAPTER III. FROM AMBOINA TO TIMOR-LAUT. Leave for Timor-laut—Saparua—Curious village and atoll of Gessir— New Guinea—Aru— Ké—Timor-laut—First impressions—N ew birds and butterflies—State of siege—Negotiate for a house—Language— Our barter goods CHAPTER IV. SOJOURN IN TIMOR-LAUT. The natives—Hair and coiffures—Vanity—Stature and living characte- ristics — Cranial characters — Clothing—Tjikalele dance — Arms — Marriage — Artistic skill—Individuai and moral character—Treat- ment of their children—Games—Fine figures—Graves—Good butter- fly resorts CHAPTER V. SOJOURN IN TIMOR-LAUT (continued). Religion and superstitions—Visit to Waitidal—Barter for a skull—Send my hunters to the northern islands of the group—Climate of Timor- laut—A mawvais quart @hewre—Designation of the group—Geo- graphical and geological features ag ee aC CHAPTER VI. SOJOURN IN TIMOR-LAUT (continued). Natural History—Flora—Disaster to Herbarium—Fauna—Mimicking birds—Insects—Fever and failure of supplies—Anxious waiting for steamer—Arrival of SS. Amboina—Leave Timor-laut for Amboina APPENDIX TO ParTIlY. .. e ae ee PABRT-AN: IN THE ISLAND OF BURU. CHAPTER I. FROM KAJELI TO THE LAKE. From Amboina to Buru—Kajeli—Trade of Kajeli—Birds—River Apu— Wai Biléi village—Village of Wai Gelan—The Matakau—Forced encampments—Wai Klaba—A Pomalied mountain—Wasilale— Hospitable reception—Houses—Musical performance—Pomali signs —Arrive at Laha se Be ee ae ee PAGE 307 325 oo oo nse 340 3gl CONTENTS. Ce ren CHAPTER II. AT LAKE WOKOLO. ‘ d PAGE ; The Je there—Garments—Cuitivation—Arms an, Pe ahaha Mariage—Death rites—Superstitions about the lake —Explanation of its position and of the absence of fish in it—New birds—Great disappointment—Return to Kajeli—Thence to Amboina —Compelled to leave the Moluccas—A kind farewell—Leave for Timor .. a “i we as A = 401 Aprexpix To Part VY... - me is es ae .. 409 PART’. VI. IN TIMOR. CHAPTER I. SOJOURN AT FATUNABA. Arrival at Dilly—Dreadful effects of fever—Search for a site for a house —The town of Dilly an ethnographical studio—Fatunaba—Our residence—The enchanting view thence—Interesting birds and plants —Difliculty with servants—Preparations for departure into the in- terior—Dialects “e oe we 2 “ oe oo ee CHAPTER IL. ON THE ROAD TO BIBICUGU, Start for the interior—Vegetation on the way—Roads—Camp on Erlura —Mt. Tehula—Kelehoko and its flora—Pass a night under the eaves of a native dwelling—Huts in trees—Bed of the River Komai—Pass a night on Ligidoik mountain—Character of country—Valley of the Waimatang Kaimauk—Singular scene—Unburied relatives—Burial rites—Grave-sticks—Rites attending a king’s death—Swangies— Lose our way—Flora on Turskain mountain—Rajah of Turskain’s— Botanical excursions—The rites of the sacred Ludi and the choosing of warriors—The Rajah “A S - xs Pe + 427 CHAPTER III. IN THE KINGDOM OF BIBIGUGU. Leave for Bibigugu—Bridles—A trio of Braves—War and its attendant ceremonies—Rahomali—Luli ground—Bibicucu—Harvest ' fields— Cultivation—Take the law into my own hands—Connubial rela- tions—W aterfall—Birds— Herbarium—Disquieting — news—Mount Kabalak:—Move forward to Saluki—Native market—Description of CONTENTS. natives seen there—Omaments—Dyes—An enraged Timorese — Red-haired race—Timorese a mixed race—Up the Makulala River—Gold—Ceremonies of gold-gathering—Arrive at the Rajah of Seluki’s : os é CHAPTER IV. SOJOURN IN KAILAKUK AND SAMORO., I proceed to Fatuboi—River Motaai—Crystalline rocks—A weird village —Rare additions to my herbarium—Butterflies—Move on to the Rajah of Samoro’s—Vegetation by the way—Geological notes— Penalties of theft—Samoro—Visit Sobale Peak—Botanising under difficulties—Large Herbarium—Return to Samoro and leave for Manuleo CHAPTER V. RETURN TO EUROPE, Bad news from Dilly—Start thither—Camp in the open—Bees—Laclo river—Rajah’s of Laicor—The Queen of Laclo—A hot ride—Geologi- cal note—Matu—Metinaru—Salt marshes—A long night-ride— Return to Dilly Palace—Extract from A——’s journal—Return to Fatunaba—Fevers—Decide to return to Europe—Surprised by the arrival of steamer—Regretful departure from Fatunaba—Revisit Banda and Amboina— Menado — A lucky accident — Batavia — Krakatoa—Home me 8 ae és APPENDIX TO PART VI. .. ee AC 50 Be a Le INDEX AA sis me be de A re oe oO XV PAGE 449 468 De oa A LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. pee ea da p PAGE Mrs. Forses’ HonEy-EATER (WITH PERMISSION, FROM GouLD’s ‘ Birps or NEw GUINEA’) : . ‘ : F : Frontispiece FIcUs RELIGIOSA, IN THE BoTANIcaL GARDENS, BuITENzoRG facing 10 wo ForMS OF THE Nest OF THE \WEAVER-BiRD 4 . = ABT ABANDONED NEST-FOUNDATION . F ; : : : , 58 A Birp’s-EXCRETA-MIMICKING SPIDER : ; : ; ma G4 NEST OF THE ZETHUS CYANOPTERUS ; : ‘ 5 Es} TRANSVERSE SECTION OF THE STEM OF Myraecont A TUBEROSA fucing 79 YOUNG PLANT OF MyRMECODIA TUBEROSA : : 4 3 80 Young MyrMECODIA AND SECTION OF A SOMEWHAT OLDER ONE ~ 2 Ol Puasus Brumet, Fics. 1 to 8 é . ; : : . 86, 87, 88 SPATHOGLOTTIS PLICATA, Fias.9to15 . : : : : 89, 90 ARUNDINA SPECIOSA, Fires. 16 to 22 : : : 4 5 ils SES Se: ERIA SP., NEAR TO HE. JAVENSIS, Fics. 23, 24 . : af 299 CurysoGLossumM sp., Fias. 25 to 26a A ; ; ‘ : 94, 95 GOODYERA PROCERA, Fics. 27, 28 . : : : : ; aO EGG-SHAPED STONE FROM THE KARANG'S GROVE ; : 5 98 EARTHENWARE Pots FROM 5 3 : : ; 99, 100 Our NIGHT-CROSSING OF THE RIVER 'TuITARUM : : facing 106 IJzAp oF K@RIvVOULA JAVANA ; ; : ; : LS VILLAGE OF Korra-DJAWA . : ; : Vasing 131 LAMPONG CHARACTERS : AN [ILLUSTRATED Phew FROM A NATIVE-WRITTEN RoMANCE . : : : : : : : facing 142 HEAD or BUCEROS AND SECTION : : “ : 5 A pak ailisys VILLAGE OF KENALI . A : : : ; fucing 168 VIEW NEAR THE VILLAGE OF el aniene es LOOKING TowaRDs Mount BESAGI : : : . facing 170 Coat or ARMS IN THE Vv ILLAGE OF Bien Bui LAN cs ; ' ye Lbe0) Tata BUBUR-TALAM . & ; : : : 3 A 86 TATA SIMBAR . : ; ; ; A : ; . 186 LooKING DOWN THE OGAN VALLEY FROM THE RIANG Pr AK facing 186 Tatra RAMo-RAMO i : : ’ : : ; 5 calltely/ SEMINDO CaRvING—OTAR Ouaok ences ox A Hovusr 1x PENGAN- DONAN i j A ‘ : ; ; : wit 2 xviii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. ph cA Passuman Bracevets oF SILVER, SHOWING THE ORNAMENTATION DERIVED FROM THE YOUNG SHOOTS OF THE BAMBOO. j : Moxourra at TANGERWANGI, PAssuUMAH LANDS : A : ‘ at DISINTERRED BY THE AUTHOR AT TANGERWANGI : i SrpE-View oF THE HEAD OF ONE OF THE FIGURES . P 7 i New Species or BruGMANSIA, OF THE FAMILY OF THE RAFFLESIACE Sucing House 1s THE VILLAGE oF BATU-PANTJEH : ; : % My CoLiecror KILLED BY A TIGER , : d : 3 ‘TIGER-TRAP ‘ : . : : é : ‘ 3 My Her ar vue Hor Series, Foor or THE Kaba Voicaxo 5 FLowen (DIAGRAMMATIC) OF MELASTOMA (WITH THE KIND PERMISSION or THE Proprietors oF Nature) . : : : ; : Kup MAN AND WOMAN, SKETCHED IN THE VILLAGE or KotTa Rapsa . ., FF Bs SURULANGUN FLower or CURCUMA ZERUMBET, SHOWING ITS MODE OF FERTILISATION Vaccinium Forbesit . , ; ‘ “ ; ; j P SoLror ORNAMENTATION : : : : E ‘ : 3 NUTMEG-GATHERER’S COLLECTING-ROD . ‘ ‘ A j P CoIrFURES OF THE NATIVES OF TIMOR-LAUT . : : : ; INSTRUMENT FOR CRIMPING THE Hair. : : : ‘ 3 ORNAMENTED BELT-BUCKLE . : i 5 i - : EARRING . ; : é 3 : : ; : 5 Carvep CoMB, ORNAMENTED WITH INLAID BoNE : : ‘ ORNAMENTED CHALK-HOLDER : : : : ‘ es (0 HovseE in Trmor-LAuT : - 5 : 5 ; : F ie Pn witH Roor REMOVED TO SHOW THE INTERIOR : Suspensory CoNTRIVANCE MADE OF PALM-LEAF GRAVE OF A NATIVE CHIEF . } ; é : ‘i CARVED SusPENSORY CONTRIVANCES DUADILAH . J 5 : : : - F ; : ‘ Macuik’s Grounp-TurusH (Geocichia machiki, Forbes) . facing NoRM#® FRONTALIS ET LATERALIS OF THE Mate BRACHYCEPHALIC SKULL, No. 4 (WITH THE PERMISSION OF THE CoUNCIL OF THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITUTE) NoORM® FRONTALIS ET LATERALIS OF THE FEMALE J] 0LICHCCEPHALIC SKULL, No. 1 (WiTH THE PERMISSION OF THE COUNCIL OF THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITUTE) Urrer Surrace or Birt or Hereranax MUNDUS (WITH THE PERMISSION _ OF THE COUNCIL oF THE ZooLoGicaL Society) . ; . . Urrer Sunrace or Brix or Prezoruyncuvs casts (WITH THE PER- MISSION OF THE COUNCIL OF THE ZooLoGIcAL SociETy) : . DIELIS LARATENSIS (WITH THE PERMISSION OF THE COUNCIL OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SocieTy) MATAKAU . . . . . . . ‘Tne Hut-Ciuster, WasILALE, on THE SLOPE OF THE GununG Dupa jacing PAGE 195 200 201 202 206 218 223 224 225 229 234 245 247 278 285 287 308 309 312 313 316 317 318 31% 320 323 324 327 307 044 345 359 309 382 395 398 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Xix PAGE NaTIvE oF WaAKOLO VILLAGE, LAKE WAKOLO : ; facing 402 View OF THE LAKE OF WAKOLO . : 5 : 2 5 405 SIGNALLING PIPE. : : ; : : : : F . 429 TREE-HUTS WITH DEAD BoDIES SUSPENDED BELOW ; s ABS! THE STRONGHOLD OF THE DATO oF Savo . : 4 ; facing 484 GRAVE-STICK IN THE HOMESTEAD OF SAvO ety o ; : . 4387 LooKING TOWARDS Cape Luca, FRoM Bipigugu 2 ; facing 452 HOovsE-CLUSTER IN THE Kinepom oF Bipigugu . ‘ ; * 454 VIEW IN THE SERARATA VALLEY, Bipigugqu : : as 459 ORNAMENTED ComMB ; : ; ; : : : . 462 ORNAMENTA'TION ON SMALL BAMBOO ; : : F ; ow 468 Natives or Biprgugu, Fries. 1 to 4 : : ‘ : - 465, 466 KeErRo , PH % 3 é : : ~ AT2 ih LIST OF MAPS. _—_—he Mar or Eastern ARCHIPELAGO, TO sHow AUTHOR’s RouTE facing Mar or Keexixe Isnanps_.. i : ’ : e ‘ -Maror Sourn Scmatra ss. * t 5 ; : . a Map or Tenxtmper IsLaAnDs on 'TimMoR-LAUT. : : all POLOGICAL itis Ko ifekeaeds Sel, Untied leat ee ee KRAKATAU BEFORE AND AFTER THE Eruprion oF August 1883 (FROM THE ‘ PRocEEDINGSs OF THE Royat GrogRarHicaL Society,’ WITH KIND PERMISSION) . . . . . = plte . CHIPELAGO. ~am 120 ———---— an ; Basil ¥e bie rd = op} Sis ee TRLOK nb ce Melo f yer Wont: ‘fn PART I. IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. ARCHIPELAGO Bere 20 I | ravauTsé | } ad MIND OR CORO, : ACD WN 0 ee 8 uy lo abil Ss S $ pT oer pea zt } , oT nee . a ) PKolas—* Kala ote. i ‘ Fhe «SW Laternostar I Marianne Reet > Bangalore Reet J s Kaplapation Hrown Datel 7 Tinh Bria Ende o ( Sasea Auple Portuguese é ‘ C ; oo / — = LonglO0 E.Gr. Soale of Rogliah Statute Mile w Harper & Brothers Nev York | ; | A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS IN THE HASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. CHAPTER I. IN BATAVIA AND BUITENZORG. Arrival in Batavia—First impressions—Buitenzorg and its Botanical Gard ie ardens. On the 8th October, 1878, I embarked at Southampton on board the Royal Dutch Mail steamer Celebes, for Batavia, on a long-dreamt of visit to the tropical regions of the globe. There is little of interest or novelty to record nowadays of a voyage to the East. The most stay-at-home is familiar with this ocean highway. | The home-come traveller, however, will be pleased to be reminded of that pleasant picture nestling between the Burlings and the Arabida hills—the stupendous and useless convent of Mafra, the sharp turrets and bristling peaks of Cintra, and the flashing towers and white buildings of Lisbon. rising from the banks of the river. Notwithstanding all I had read of Wallace and of Bates, I was going out full of extravagant ideas of tropical blossoms; and had little idea, as I rounded the cape of Gibraltar, leaving to the north of me purple hills of heather, scarlet fields of poppies, and rich parterres starred with cistus and orchids, with anemones and geraniums, and sweet with aromatic shrubs and herbs, that I would encounter nothing half so rich or bright amid all the profusion of the “ summer of the world.” It will please him to have recalled the Straits of Messina, 4 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS bathed in sunlight, its little villages with their olive groves and vineyards slumbering at the mouth of chasm-like gorges, winding away up amongst the mountains which ruggedly overshadow them. In crossing the Mediterranean, we gave a lift to tired wag- tails and swallows, to a goat-sucker and a fly-catcher, and carried them into Port Said. he squalor of that town, the barrenness of the canal shores and the arid bareness of Aden were a splendid offset to the verdure just ahead of us. In the Indian Ocean our friendly yard-arms gave a rest to several bee-eaters (Merops philippinus), to a chat and to little flocks of swallows before we sighted the Maldive and Laccadive coral _ Archipelagoes. Far ahead on the horizon their islets looked like a group of bouquets set in marble-rimmed vases; but as we approached, the vase rims changed into the surf of the sea breaking on the reef to feed its builders, and the bouquets into clumps of cocoa-palms, iron-wood, and other trees which the currents of the sea have washed together, and the passing winds and wandering birds have carried thither to deck these lone homes of the ocean fowl, which came fighting in our wake for the scraps that fell from our floating table. Holding on east by southward for a few days more, a hazy streak appeared on our horizon, and my eyes rested on the first of the Malayan islands—on the distant peaks of Sumatra. We anchored at Padang for a day, and, in sailing southward along its coast, I could not admire sufficiently the magnificence of that island—its great mountain chain running parallel to the coast, and rising into smoking peaks, clad with forest to the very crater rims,—which later I found to be all that I had pictured it from the sea, and more. On the morning of the second day, we entered the Sunda Straits, that narrow water-pass by the opening of which between Java and Sumatra, Nature has laid under grateful tribute all Cape-coming and -going mariners through the Java Sea to and from the Archipelago or Chinese ports. Dotted about in this narrow channel, were low picturesque islands and solitary cones of burnt-out craters, towering sheer up to a height of from two to three thousand feet, all clothed in vegetation. Prominent among the latter stood out the sharp cone of Krakatoa, whose name will scarcely be forgotten by our generation at least, and IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 5 will live longer in the sorrowful remembrance of the inhabitants of the shores of the strait. The appalling catastrophe of August the 27th, 1888, would, however, sink into insignifi- eance, if compared with that which, while this was still an undiscovered sea, must have withdrawn the foundations of the land over which the strait now flows. On our right the Java coast lay in a series of beautiful amphitheatre slopes, laid out in coffee-gardens and_ rice- terraces ; on our left were the more distant Sumatra shores cut into large and beautiful bays between long promontories, on the easternmost of which stood out the high dome of Raja-basa. Rounding St. Nicholas Point, we sailed eastward among the tree-capped Thousand Islands. The coast of Java, on our right, presented a singular appearance, for, for miles into the interior it seemed elevated above the level of the sea scarcely more than: the height of the trees that covered it. Nothing could be seen save the sea fringe of vegetation in front of a ereen plain, behind which rose the hills of Bantam and the Blue Mountains, as the old mariners called the peaks of Buitenzorg. Late in the afternoon of the 17th of November, the Celebes dropped her anchor in Batavia Roads, one of the greatest centres of commerce in all these seas, amid a fleet flying the flags of all nations. I had reached my destination; but, scan the shore as I might, I failed to detect anything like a town or even a village, only a low shore with a fringe of trees whose roots the surf was lazily lapping. As we approached the land in the steam tender, into which we were at length transferred, the shore opened out, and disclosed the mouth of a canal, leading to the town a long mile inland. A traveller, dropped down here by chance, might, from these canals, make a very good guess at the nationality of the dominant power in the island, for these placid water-roads are as dear to the heart of the Hollander as heather-hills to a Highlander. On stepping off the mail, I said good-bye to western life and ways, and entered on others new and strange to me, exciting my curiosity, full of fascination, even bewildering, recalling the confused sensations of my first boyish visit to the capital. Even in the canal, the first aspects of life were intensely interesting. Here and there a fishing-boat passed 6 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS us, novel in cut and rig, decked with flowers at the prow, rowed out to sea by some ten or twelve dusky fishers, singing an intermittent song, timed to the rattle of their heavy oars in the rowlocks; a little further on, we glided past a fleet of gaily painted craft, Malay, Chinese, and Arab, lying at anchor under the canal wall, their occupants, in bright-coloured cali- coes, lounging in unwonted attitudes about their decks. Before we had moored by the side of the Custom-house, it was quite dark, so that our landing was effected under some difficulty, amid the usual and necessary din and confusion, and amid a very Babel of foreign tongues, of which not a syllable was intelligible to me, save here and there a Portuguese word still recognisable, even after the changes of many centuries—veritable fossils bedded in the language of a race, where now no recoliection or knowledge of the peoples who left them exists. By dint of the universal language of signs, I got myself and baggage at last transferred to a carriage, drawn by two small splendidly running ponies, of a famous breed from the island of Sumbawa. After a drive of between two and three miles, through what seemed an endless row of Chinese bazaars and houses, remarkable mostly, as seen in the broken lamp- light, for their squalor and stench, before which their occu- pants at smoking and chatting, I at length emerged into a more genial atmosphere, and into canal and tree-margined streets, full of fine residences and hotels, very conspicuous by the blaze of light that lit up their pillared and marbled fronts. Taking up my quarters at the Hotel der Nederlanden, I had to be content with an uncurtained shake-down on the floor of the room of one of my fellow passengers, as every bed in the hotel was occupied. Next morning, to every one’s surptise, I arose without a single mosquito bite, evidently mosquito- proof. To my unspeakable comfort and advantage, I re- mained absolutely so during my whole sojourn in the Hast, and was thus relieved of the necessity of burdening myself with furniture against these, or any other insect pests whatever. When the chaotic confusion of my first impressions of Batavia had become reduced to order, I found that it consisted of an old and a new town. The old town lies near the strand ; is close, dusty, and stifling hot, standing scarcely anything IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 7 oe LE above the sea-level. It contains the Stadthouse, the offices of the Government, with the various consulates and banks, all convenient to the wharf and the Custom-house, situated along the banks of canals, which intersect the town in every direction. Round this European nucleus cluster the native village, the Arab and the Chinese “ camps.” Of Chinamen, Batavia contains many thousands of inhabi- tants, and, without this element, she might almost close her warehouses, and send the fleet that studs her roads to ride in other harbours; for every mercantile house is directly dependent on their trade. They are almost the sole purchasers of all the wares they have to dispose of. They rarely purchase except on credit, and a very sharp eye indeed has to be kept on them while their names are on the firm’s books, for they are invete- rate, but clever scoundrels, ever on the outlook for an oppor- tunity to defraud. In every branch of trade, the Chinaman is absolutely indispensable, and, despite his entire lack of moral attributes, his scoundrelism and dangerous revolutionary ten- dencies, he must be commended for his sheer hard work, his indomitable energy and perseverance in them all. There is not a species of trade in the town, except, perhaps, that of bookseller and chemist, in which he does not engage. Many of them possess large and elegantly fitted up tokos or shops, filled with the best European, Chinese, and Japanese stores ; their workmanship is generally quite equal to European, and in every case they can far undersell their Western rivals. The Arab, who like the Chinaman is prevented because of his intriguing disposition from going into the interior of the island, does, in a quiet and less obtrusive way, a little shop- keeping and money-lending, but is oftener owner of some sort of coasting craft, with which he trades from port to port, or to the outlying islands. The natives of the town—that is, coast Malays and Sun- danese—perform only the most menial work; they are vehicle drivers, the more intelligent are house servants, small traders, and assistants to the Chinese, but the bulk are coolies. They have no perseverance, and not much intelligence ; and are very lazy. moderately dishonest, and inveterate gamblers, but otherwise innocuous. This was the Batavia — fatal-climated Batavia —of past 8 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS davs. In this low-lying, close and stinking neighbourhood, devoid of wholesome water, scorched in the daytime, and chilled by the cold sea fogs in the night, did the Eastern merchant of half-a-century ago reside, as well as trade. Out of this, however, if he survived the incessant waves of fever, eholera, small-pox, and typhoid, he returned home in a few years, the rich partner of some large house, or the owner of a creat fortune. a ; All this is changed now. Morning and evening, the train whirls in a few minutes the whole European population— which tries, in vain, to amass fortunes like those of past times —to and from the open salubrious suburbs, the new town, of fine be-gardened residences, each standing in a grove of trees flanking large parks, the greatest of which, the King’s Plain, has each of its sides nearly'a mile in length. Here the Governor-General has his official Palace—his unofficial resi- dence being on the hills at Buitenzorg, about thirty miles to the south of Batavia; and here are built the barracks, the clubs, the hotels, and the best shops, dotted along roads shaded by leafy Hibiscus shrubs, or by the Poinciana regia, an imported Madagascar tree, which should be seen in the end of the year, when its broad spreading top is one mass of orange-red blossoms, whose falling petals redden the path, as if from the lurid glare of a fiery canopy above. To these pleasant avenues, in the cool of the evening, just after sunset, and before the dinner-hour, all classes, either driving or on foot resort for exercise and friendly intercourse. In front of the barracks, another fine park, the Waterloo Plain, is ornamented by a tall column, surmounted by a rampant lion, with an inseription to commemorate the prowess of the Netherlanders in winuing the battle of Waterloo. A remark, perhaps not quite fair, of a Ceylon friend on view- ing the pillar and its long inscription: “The lion at the top is not more conspicuous than the lyin’ at the bottom!” “Having been furnished, through the kind influence of Professor Suringar, of Leyden, with an autograph letter of recommendation from His Excellency the then Minister for the Colonies, to the Governor-General of the Netherlands’ Indies, I proceeded, very shortly after my arrival, to Buiten- arg, for the purpose of presenting it. From His Excellency IN THE COCOS-KEELING. ISLANDS. 9 I received most favourable letters of commendation to all in authority under his jurisdiction, and parted with the expres- sion of his warm interest and best wishes. _ Buitenzorg is one of the chief holiday and health resorts of sick -Batavians, and possesses not only a magnificent climate, but scenery of great beauty and picturesqueness. It is overlooked by two large and at present harmless volcanic mountains, the Salak with its disrupted cone, into whose very heart one looks by the terrible cleft in its side, and the double- peaked Pangerango and Gede, from whose crater is ever lazily curling up white vapoury smoke from the simmering water which at present fills the summit of its pipe. Besides the fine views to be had in its neighbourhood, Buitenzorg is chiefly remarkable for its botanic garden, perhaps the finest in the world, which surrounds the Governor’s palace, and in which many weeks might be profitably and delightfully spent by the botanist. To Mr. Teysmann, who died but recently, after some sixty years of unbroken service in it, the garden is largely in- debted for the actual ingathering of the bulk of its treasures. For fifty years he was engaged in collecting through the islands of the Archipelago; and some of the rarest and finest specimens init, brought as seeds by him, he had the satisfaction of seeing develop into the grandest of its trees. A long wide avenue of ‘dace (Canarvum commame) trees traverses the centre of the garden, which interlacing high overhead in a superb leafy canopy, affords at all hours of the day a delightful promenade. Near the principal entrance a tall Breit nobelis forms in the rainy season, when it is ablaze with immense scarlet flower-trosses and plumes of young leaves of the richest brown, a remarkable object of beauty. On the right the garden descends to its boundary stream through arboreta of Buteas, Cassias, Calliandras, Tamarinds, and Poin- cianas, to groves of Bromeleads and tall Cactacew, Pandans, Nipas, Cycads and climbing Screw-pines; to plots of Ama- ryllidee, Iris and water-loving plants; and beneath the richest palmetum in the world, its glory perhaps the Cyrtostachys renda, whose long bright scarlet leaf sheaths and _ flower- spathes, and its red fruit and deep yellow inflorescence hanging side by side, at once arrest the eye. 10 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Bordering the stream is quite a little forest of oaks, laurels and figs, many of them yet unknown to science, merging in a long, dark, tunnel-like corridor of banyan trees. In a dense clump affixed to tall tree ferns and Cambodias, whose white, heavy-odoured flowers entireiy carpeted the ground, were thousands of orchids from all countries, most of them blossom- ing as profusely as in their native habitat, except a few of the higher and cooler-living New World species, such as the Cattleyas, which gradually dwindle away and die out in a few years. More strangely, the native Phaleenopses (amabilis and grandiflora) refuse to thrive in the gardens, 750 feet above the sea, while in Batavia few plants flower so luxuriantly as they do. On the left of the central walk there are two remarkable avenues; the one of stately Brazilian palms, the Oreodoxa oleracea, whose globular base and smooth ringed stems, were as straight and symmetrical as if turned in a lathe, and in their whiteness contrasted markedly with the deep green of the leaf sheaths and crown of foliage ; the other of bamboos, remarkable for the number and luxuriance of its species. The curious root- growing Rafflesias, the Amorphophallus titanum, a giant arum, and the Teysmannia altifrons, a rare broad-leafed palm, from Sumatra, and others as rare, which would require too long a list to enumerate, were to be studied here. My daily morning round of the garden invariably terminated in a seat under an umbrageous india-rubber tree, in front of which a fountain played into a circular pond dotted with blue and white flowers of water-lilies and Victoria regias. In the sparkling light of the early sun it was the most charming of spots for a rest. 124 snort . “DYOZNALING “SNACUVD 'IVOINVLOA AHaG NI vsorbe IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 1] CHAPTER II. SOJOURN IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. Start for the Cocos-Keeling Islands—In the Straits of Sunda—An unex- pected pilot—Arrival—History of the colony there—Terrible cyclones— Home life of the colonists now—tThe reef and its builders—Fishes in the lagoon—Crabs and their operations—Plant life—Insect life—Mammals — Birds. Tue end of the year 1878 was noted for its very heavy rains, which in the month of December were at their worst. Trans- port and travel were not only difficult, but in many districts impossible. Just as I was getting rather puzzled as to how to get away anywhere out of Batavia, I learned that a small sailing craft, on which I was offered a passage, was on the point of leaving for the Cocos-Keeling Islands. With this outlying spot, made famous by Mr. Darwin’s visit in 1836, I was familar from his ‘Coral Reefs.’ It did not, therefore, take me long to decide to accept an offer which was as gratifying as it was unexpected. After a wearisome fight of fourteen days with the Monsoon wind at the entrance of the Sunda Straits, we succeeded in reaching the little village of Anjer, where we stopped a day to replenish our failing stores of provisions, and to eat our New Year’s feast in the picturesque inn there, whose verandah commanded a delightful view of the island-studded strait and of the rugged mountains of Sumatra on the other side. The wind, which had opposed us so persistently, had on the day we again set sail subsided altogether, and it was with the greatest difficulty that we could haul clear off the land. Day after day brought us a monotonous calm. It was something, however, that at this season the forest along the slowly passing shores and isles was in the full burst of spring, when it wears in the morning light its most charming aspect, of surpassing beauty to my novitiate eyes; the piping 12 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS mid-day alone was ungrateful, almost unbearable, exposed to the sun, as we were, without awning or protection ; the evening sunsets were scenes to be remembered for a lifetime. The tall. cones of Sibissie and Krakatoa rose dark purple out of an un- ruffled golden sea, which stretched away to the south-west, where the sun went down; over the horizon grey fleecy clouds lay in banks and streaks, above them pale blue lanes of sky, alternating with orange bands, which higher up gave place to an expanse of red stretching round the whole heavens. Gradually as the sun retreated deeper and deeper, the sky became a marvellous golden curtain, in front of which the grey clouds coiled them- selves into weird forms before dissolving into space, taking with them our last hope that they might contain a breeze, and leaying us at rest on the placid water, over which shoals of water-bugs (of the genus Halobates probably) glided, covering its surface with circles like gentle rain-drop rings; there was not a sound to break the silence save the plunge of a porpoise or the fluck of the fishes in quest of their evening meal. Perhaps these rich after-glows were due to the Kaba eruption then going on in Mid-Sumatra. One day, we passed a large log in the sea floating in the current, to which numerous little crabs were clinging, on their way, perhaps, to colonise some new and distant shore. On the afternoon of the sixteenth day of weary beating from Anjer, a pure white tern suddenly appeared, and, circling about the vessel, produced quite a flutter of excitement. It was the lovely Gygis candida, one of the Keeling Island birds, which our native boatswain declared never went far from home, and that we must, therefore, be near our destination. Several of the sailors ran aloft, and in a few minutes descried to the northward the crowns of the higher cocoa- nut palms on the southern islands. We straightway changed our course ; tor our skipper had evidently miscaleulated our noon position, and, but for this timely pilot, would have sailed past in the night. At sundown the islands appeared from the deck as a dark uneyen line, rising little above the horizon; at ten o'clock we cautiously sailed in to the anchorage in the lagoon, lighted through by the phosphorescence from shoals of large fishes, which darted like rockets from below our keel. The scene that met my eyes next morning was a curious IN THE COCOS-KEELING | ISLANDS. 13 one: a calm lake-like sea enclosed by a palisade of palm trees on a narrow riband of land. My first feelings were those of surprise at the size of the atoll; for it was very much smaller than the mental picture I had formed of it from studying the Admiralty chart, and then of wonder that such a speck could hold its own against the relentless ocean, which seemed as if it might wash it away in any angry moment. To form by personal observation more clear ideas of coral formation, and chiefly to note how the struggle between the reef-makers and the waves had been going during the past forty-three years, and perhaps the pride of saying I had lived on a reef, being the objects of my coming, no amount of dissimilarity from conceived ideas could disappoint me, or cause me to regret my visit; but I could not help thinking that it was a woe-begone spot to choose for a perpetual home, and a limited field to expend one’s energies on. Mr. G. C. Ross, the proprietor, shortly came on board, and with the most hearty greeting welcomed me; he rowed me ashore, and, without power of gainsay, installed me as guest in his comfortable home, for I was the first European who, not by compulsion of weather or other disaster, but really of set purpose, had during that period visited his island. We sat far into the night talking together, and I scarcely know which of us seemed most eager to learn. ‘The rapid question and reply shot between us incessantly to the early hours, and as we sat and talked, it was with an eerze feeling that I felt the very foundations of the land thrill under my feet at every dull boom of the surf on the outward barrier—I conveying to my host’s household all that was strangest and most interesting from the busy centres of civilisation, in politics (a far ery to them), in discovery and in invention, all that was newest from the outer and, to them, far-off world; he relating to me the thrilling domestic annals of his island domain. Half a century had elapsed since his grandfather, descended of an old Scottish family wrecked in the troublous times of 1745, having brought an adventurous seafaring life to a close in command of one of the vessels stationed in the Jaya Sea, for the protection of British interests during our occupation of that island, had landed in December, 1825, and virtually taken possession of the group. His intention was to make 3) 14 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS the spot a call port for the repair and provisioning of vessels yoyaging between home and China, Australia, and India. Without then taking up residence, he proceeded to England, but returned in 1827 with his wife and family of six children, accompanied by twelve Englishmen, one Javanese, and one Portuguese. On landing he was surprised to find another Englishman, Mr. Alexander Hare, in possession of a third part of the group. This gentleman had held a govern- ment post in South Borneo during the English supremacy in the Sunda Islands; but having tried to assume the state of an independent ruler, which on the reinstalment of Dutch authority, he found himself unable to hold, he retired here with a large harem of various nationalities and numerous slaves, whom he treated with great harshness. Mr. Ross, having brought out his English apprentices on an understanding that, as the whole atoll was his own, there would be, in the development of its resources, sufficient outlet for their energies, was much discouraged by the turn affairs had assumed. Hare exhibited a very unfriendly spirit towards the new-comers, so that, on Mr. Ross offering his people a release from their agreement, all, except three (a woman and two men), took the first opportunity of leaving in one of H.M. gunboats which touched at the islands. Ross managed, however, to increase his party by seven or eight persons from Jaya, and later on by additional Europeans, some of them his own relatives. With a large number of Sundanese coolies, hired in Batavia, he opened a trade in cocoanuts with the Mauritius, with Madras, and with Bencoolen and various other ports of the Archipelago. Possessed of a considerable fortune, Hare lived for some time a lethargic life in mock regal style, in the midst of the con- stant discord and jealousies of his retinue, and in hostility to his neighbour. For the protection of what he considered an im- portantly situated island, and of his own rights, Ross solicited the authorities in the Mauritius to take the group under their protection—a responsibility they did not see it advisable to assume. Hare, on the other hand, covertly instigated the Dutch Government to claim possession, a suggestion which the Batavian officials entertained only so far as to send a gunboat to examine and report on the condition of the IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 1S islands. Direct application was then made by Ross to Kine William to proclaim the atoll English territory, but without success. Hare, after several years of a most worthless sort of existence, took his departure for Singapore, where it is said he shortly after died. Mr. Darwin’s visit took place not very long after Hare’s departure, and just after the change of the settlement from South-Eastern to New Selima Island and his report as to the comfortable and flourishing state of the young colony at that time is not very favourable. It was always a subject of keen regret to Mr. Ross, that on Mr. Darwin’s visit, in 1836, he was not at home. Mr. Leisk, who was in charge, showed Mr. Darwin over the place, and gave him a great deal of infor- mation, but though given in good faith, much of it was not quite accurate. After a few years of peaceful and undisturbed possession of the atoll, the whole of which Mr. Ross then laid claim to, it attained to a most prosperous condition; and its ships became well known throughout the Archipelago, Ross himself being styled the King of the Cocos Islands. Two villages were erected, one for the hired coolies, and the other, a little way distant, for the Europeans and those who threw in their lot with the new colony and were to share its fortunes—the true Cocos colonists. This state of prosperity was due mainly to the efforts of his eldest son—the father devoting the closing years of his life chiefly to study.* Their trade prospered and afforded a handsome annual balance for many years, and altogether life seems to have been very pleasant save for one element, the hired population. The only coolies who could be got to engage to leave Java for a term of years, were criminals who had served their time in the chain-ganegs of Batavia, and as they far outnumbered the Euro- peans and colonists, and were capable of any atrocity, they were a constant source of danger, and a heavy anxiety to these in charge. Every night a strongly armed patrol of true Cocos people had to mount guard from sunset to sunrise, and still continues to do so, with military regularity and rigour, the watches being struck, as on ship board, all through the night. * By a curious mistake in the Royal Society’s Catalogue of Scientific Papers, Mr. J. C. Ross’s criticism of Mr. “Darwin’s * Coral Reels’ is attributed to Sir J. C. Ross, the Arctic explorer. 16 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS From the amount of cocoa-nut husk, or coir, as well as from the combustible nature of all the buildings and of the palm trees themselves, incendiarism was the crime most feared at the hands of the lawless. Consequently it was sternly enforced that every individual should report himself at the guard-house at a fixed hour; and that every fire should be quenched at sunset. It was penal for anyone to spend the night on any but the Home island, without express permission from the captain of the guard. Every boat was numbered and had to be in its place an hour before sunset ; if it were not, by tock of drum a muster was called, the absentees noted, and a search instantly instituted, to bring back the defaulters or to render aid in ease of accident. Unsullied as their history began, it was not long till a Black Calendar had to be added to their island archives. Criminals inyariably betook themselves to the concealment of the forest-clad islets, where they could often elude capture for weeks; but, unless they could steal a provisioned boat, which was almost impossible, they could get no further. The tale of the restless dread and suspense which held the whole community, when some mutineer, with the desperate spirit of amok in him, was at large, and the exciting efforts to effect and to elude capture, was a chapter, which demanded little from the narrator's art, to engage my sympathies and my profound interest in this community, living its chequered life so far from the sympathies of the world. To prevent any temptation to robbery no coined money is allowed on the atoll. The currency is in sheep-skin notes signed by Mr. Ross, which are good as between member and member of the community. Wages are paid in these or in goods and food articles brought regularly from Batavia, while the notes are exchangeable for Dutch money in Batavia on presentation to Mr. Ross’s agent. On the 3lst March, 1857, as a large inscribed board near the landing place on Home island proclaims, Captain Fre- mantle in H.M.S. Juno visited the Cocos Islands, and, after the usual royal salute, declared them part of the British ° dominions, and.Mr. Ross (the father of the present proprietor) their Governor during Her Majesty’s pleasure. The whole was, it appears, a ludicrous mistake on the part of Captain IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 17 Fremantle, for the island intended to be annexed was one of the same name somewhere in the Andaman group! It is gratifying, however, to know that the islands are after all really British territory, for I myself carried down a copy of the Proclamation in the Ceylon Gazette of November 1878, by which the Cocos-Keeling Islands were annexed to the Govern- ment of Ceylon, “to prevent any foreign power stepping in and taking possession of them, for the purpose of settlement, or fora coaling station,” as Russian agents, it was reported, had been examining the locality with sinister views. The islands being of extreme salubrity, the true Keeling population, now. mostly of mixed blood, had rapidly increased, and they enjoyed unbroken prosperity till 1862, when a eyclone in a few hours entirely wrecked their homes. The present proprietor, the third in succession, then a student of engineering in Glasgow, was hurriedly summoned to aid his father in the restoration of the islands, a task he was suddenly left alone to accomplish, when quite a young man, by the death of his parent. Abandoning all the more ambitious plans of his life, he gave himself up to the new position which he had been so unexpectedly called to fill, and with the warmest heartiness threw himself into all the interests of the islanders. He devised and has carried out liberal plans for their improvement, and for the advancement of those com- mitted to his charge. Marrying a Cocos-born wife, who shared his ideas and interests, they became the parents of the people rather than their masters and rulers. As rapidly as possible he rid himself of the chain-gang men, and being able, by a change in the laws at Batavia, to obtain coolies of the non-criminal class, he engaged only those of the best character. He cleared off the remaining forest and planted the ground with palms. Success attended his efforts. At length he brought into the Indian Ocean the new sounds of the puffing of steam mills, the whirring of lathes and saws, and the clang of the anvil. The general education of the children has been under a younger brother of Mr. Ross’s, educated in a Scottish university. Every Cocos man has had, besides performing his ordinary duties of gathering nuts and preparing oil—-which, exchanged in Batavia, returns as gain, or the food which they cannot produce within their own 18 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS bounds—to learn to work—and their proficiency astonished me —in brass, iron and wood. Every Cocos girl has had her term of apprenticeship to spend in Mrs. Ross’s house in yee under her direction sewing, cooking, and every house-wifely duty as practised in European homes. I shall not soon foreet the deft handmaiden—female servants were employed to do all the household work—who attended to my room; she was a tall Papuan, who had been rescued from slavery, now one of the true Cocos people, in whom all the grace of body and limb that she inherited from her race had developed, under the happy circumstances under which she had come, into the perfection of the human female figure. She could not have performed her work with more neatness and dexterity had she been trained athome. With all the respect of a servant, she mingled a kind solicitude in looking after my comfort and attending to my wants, which as a daughter of the island to its guest, she might without presumption use. A fresh rose was daily laid on my pillow and on the folded-down counterpane, while, that the water in my basin might seem fresher than its sparkling self, she sprinkled it with fragrant rose leaves. No more flourishing or contented community could have been found at the opening of 1876, than its 500 island-born inhabitants. On the 25th of January, however, the mercurial barometer indicated some unusual atmospheric disturbance, and the air felt extremely heavy and oppressive. On the 28th it fell to close on 28 inches, a warning which gave time for all boats to be hauled to a place of safety, and other prepara- tions for a storm to be made. On the afternoon of the same day, there appeared in the western sky an ominously dark bank of clouds, and at 4 p.m. a cyclone of unwonted fury burst over this part of the Indian Ocean. The storehouses and mills, but recently renewed, were completely gutted and de- molished ; every house in both villages was carried completely away. Among the palm-trees the wind seems to have played a frantic and capricious devil’s dance. Pirouetting wildly round the atoll, in some places it had cleared lanes hundreds of yards in length, snapping off the trees close to the ground ; in others, it had swooped down, without making an entrance or exit path, and borne bodily away large circular patches, leaving unharmed the encircling trees; here and there, sometimes in IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 19 the centre of dense clumps, selecting a single stem—a thick tree of thirty years’ growth—it had danced with it one light- ning revolution, and left it a permanent spiral screw perfectly turned, but otherwise uninjured. About midnight of the 28th, when intense darkness would have prevailed but for the incessant blaze of lightning, whose accompanying thunder was drowned by the roar of the tempest, when every one was endeavouring to save what rice—the only provision spared to them—they could, Mr. Ross discovered to his horror, the bowsprit of a vessel which had been lying at anchor, riding on the top of a great wave straight for the wall behind which they sheltered. There was just time to make themselves fast before the water rushed over them, fortunately without carrying the ship through the wall; a second wave washed completely over the spot where Ross’s house had stood, distant 150 yards from high-water mark. The storm attained its height about one o'clock on the morning of the 29th. At that hour nothing could resist the unsubstantial air, worked into a fury; no obstacle raised a foot or two above the ground could resist its violence. The inhabitants saved themselves only by lying in hollows of the ground. To what distance the barometer might have fallen, it is impossible to say, for the mercurial was carried away, and two aneroids gave in at 263 inches. The following morning broke bright and calm, as if the tempestuous riot of the night might have been an evil dream, only not a speck of green could be seen anywhere within the compass of the islands. Round the whole atoll the solid coral conglomerate floor was scooped under, broken up and thrown in vast fragments on the beach. On the eastern shore of Home Island, in particular just opposite the settlement, I observed a wall of many yards breadth, portions of it thrown up clear over the external high rim of the island, and several yards inwards among the cocoanut trees, all along the margin of the island. After six months, every tree and shrub was clothed in verdure; and before three years, they were in full bearing again. About thirty-six hours after the cyclone the water on the eastern side of the lagoon was observed to be ising up frem beiow of a dark colour. The origin of the spring, which 20 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS a continued to ooze out for about ten to fourteen days, lay some- where between the southern end of New Selima and the northern end of Gooseberry Island. The colour was of an inky hue, and its smell “ like that of rotten eggs.” From this point if spread south-westward as far as the deep baylet in South- east Island, where meeting the currents, flowing in at the westward and northern entrances, which run, the one round the western, the other round the eastern shore of the lagoon, its westward progress was stopped ; whereupon, turning north- wards through the middle of the lagoon (becoming slightly less dark as it proceeded), it debouched into the ocean by the northern channel. ‘Within twenty-four hours, every fish, coral and molluse, in the part impregnated with this discolouring ,substance—probably hydrosulphuric or carbonic acid—died. ‘So great was the number of fish thrown on the beach, that it took three weeks of hard work to bury them in a vast trench dug in the sand. At the time of my visit, the islands were slowly recovering from this sad disaster, and the whole settlement, living far from the busy strife of the world, yet sufficiently mingling with it to afford contentment without envy, seemed the ideal of a peaceful and happy colony. Mr. Ross, who is associated with several of his brothers, occupies a commodious and comfortable house midway between the two villages, surrounded by a high wall, enclosing a large garden in which fruit-trees and shrubs .—sow manilla (Mcmusops), bananas, loquat (Hriobotrya), Poin- ‘cianas, and roses in grand profusion,—seem to flourish remark- ably well, notwithstanding the scanty soil. Each Keeling family possesses its own neat plank house, comfortably fur- nished, enclosed in a little garden, Housed in-a trim shed by the water's edge, each has one or more boats. These boats are their pride; and so ardently do they vie with each other in their speed, and in the elegance of their shape and furnishings, that the village possesses’a fleet of really masterpieces of boat architecture. Living on the sea, as they do, they are all from their birth naturally skilful sailors; and one of the pleasantest reminiscences of my visit, is the sight of that little white- sailed fleet beating home across the lagoon; in a sunny evening, against a-stiffish breeze. It was exceedingly pleasant to observe the cordial and IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 21 a affectionate relations existing between The House and the Cocos village. I noted little presents of first ripe fruit, or specially large eggs constantly being offered. When a death oecurs— as one did during my visit—it is felt by each individual as if the departed had been of his own family. The interment takes place as soon as possible, and the usual vocations are resumed at once, every one trying, as best he may, to seem as if he had forgotten that they were one fewer. ‘'hat-in their relations one with another there should be perfection, is not to be expected, but a finer and more upright community I have never known ; not a simpler or more guileless people—many of whom have never known, and never seen a world wider than their own atoll, which can be surveyed in a single glance of the eye; and I feel more than half confident that the English Service for the Dead has been said over, and that beneath the coral shingle of Grave Islet there rest, as blameless lives as perhaps our weak humanity can attain to. ~ The labourers’ village is neatly kept, and though the coolies live under a stricter régime, they are treated liberally and kindly, and housed in comfortable dwellings. Their children are educated along with the Cocos children. Shoulda head of a family die, his children are, at the mother’s option, sent back to their native place in Java, or if she elect, she and they may throw in their lot with, and after a certain probation become, Cocos people. Malay is the language spoken in both villages, though many of the Cocos people understand English. As this was my first acquaintance with living coral formation, everything about me had the interest of novelty. My first morning's walk was to the seaward margin of the reef. As halt a century is hardly a day’s life in the existence of an atoll, Mr. Darwin’s accurate description of that part of it might have been written the day before. The waves so continually break on the shore, that it is difficult, except on the very stillest days, to examine the coral on the furthest margin; yet I got every now and then, on the recoil of the waves, a good view of the shoals of Scarus feeding in the surf on the living coral. They are furnished on the front of their heads with soft pads, so as to be able to retain their position undisturbed among the breakers, by squeezing hard up against the uneven wall, while they are gnawing off the tips of the living polyps. During “4 22 A NATURALIST ’S WANDERINGS my visit I had no very calm days; but in the still waters of the lagoon there was enough to occupy the busiest pair of eyes for weeks, The wonderful display of colour seen in the placid water of a lagoon has been often described; but it can give to one, who has not himself visited a coral reef, but a very slight idea of the fairy bowers to be seen from over the side of a boat gliding gently across the surface of such a marine lake. I carefully examined that part of the lagoon over which the poisoned water had spread, on a day when the water was so calm that I could see the minutest objects on the bottom. Its whole eastern half was one vast field of blackened and lifeless coral stems, and of the vacant and lustreless shells of giant clams and other Mollusca, paralysed and killed in all stages of expansion. Everywhere both shells and coral were deeply corroded, the coral especially being in many places worn down to the solid base. Since the catastrophe, there had been, till almost the date of my visit, no sign of life in that portion of the lagoon; I saw very few fishes, and only here and there a new branch of Madrepora and Porites. I found only one tridacna alive (its three years’ growth being 12 inches in length, and 15 in breadth). That an earthquake certainly occurred on this reef, as recorded by Mr. Darwin, two years before the visit of the Beagle, is an interesting fact. That an earthquake took place in 1876, cannot, I think, judging from the tidal wave, be doubted, although no tremor was detected by any one on the island—searcely to be wondered at during the war of the elements. The wave, as well as the darkened water which issued, doubtless from a submarine rent, was almost certainly the result of voleanic disturbance in the close vicinity of the atoll. Mr. Darwin has described a dead field of coral observed by him, in the upper and south-east part, and has accounted for it by assuming, from information given him by Mr. Leisk, that S.E. island had been at one time divided into several islets by channels, whose closing up had prevented the water from rising so high in the lagoon as formerly; and that, therefore, the corals, which had attained their utmost possible limit of upward growth, must haye been killed by occasional exposure to the sun, IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 23 I examined the chart made by Ross in 1825, ten years before Mr. Darwin’s visit, but it exhibited no perceptible difference in the external configuration of the various islets. The soundings in the lagoon, however, showed a’ greater continuous depth at that time, and I am told that his vessel sailed, on her first coming, far up the bay, and anchored where now no ship can nearly approach. It is more probable that the explanation of this dead field lies in the supposition that a like phenomenon to that just narrated accompanied the earthquake of 1834. Beyond the boundary affected by the dark water, the coral was unharmed, and growing vigorously in thick bosses, (called “patches” by Mr. Darwin,) composed chiefly of Madrepora and Pocillopora, between which were basins of no great diameter, but reaching to a depth of some eight or ten fathoms, which were marvellous natural aquaria planted round with anemones, tesselated in blue and green designs with Fungie and brain-corals. But why no other species should grow in these deep clear pits, and why the various corals forming the bosses—which are chiefly of Echinopora lamellosa—do not stretch out their arms into and obliterate them, seems difficult to understand. In the small boat channel close to the settlement, one of the few poisoned places in which the coral had begun to grow vigorously since 1876, I dislodged with my hand several living bunches from the chalky bottom on which they were growing. Their average diameter across the top was 12 inches, and their height from the centre to the tip of the branches 6} inches. This channel was thoroughly cleaned out down to the white mud on the 20th May, 1878, and as my measurements were made on the 380th January, 1879, the age of these bunches was under eight and a half months. I could not help being struck by the number of brilliantly hued fishes in the deep pools of the lagoon. Banded and spotted Murcenoids (species of Leiwranus and Opiswrus) glided about in snake-like fashion; in sea-weed or hydroid-covered crevices motionless Antennarii lay in wait, but it required a sharp eye to distinguish their quaintly adorned and mimicking bodies from the excrescences of their retreat. Other singular denizens of the lagoon are the Crayracions, which look like 24 A NATURALIST '‘S WANDERINGS round hedgehogs floating (as they do often) on the surface of the water; their jaws are armed with formidable solid teeth to enable them to feed on the coral ; and the File-fishes, painted with ecerulean bands and harnessed with blue bridle-lines, which not only feed on the coral, but bore their way through the shells of Mollusca to extract the succulent morsels within. Their bodies terminate in a most convenient-looking tail, as if made purposely to handle them by, and I could not help feeling maliciously imposed on when I did so, by having very precipitately to drop a fine specimen I was lifting for examination, on the sharp hidden spines, with which that organ is set, running into my hand like a series of lances. One of the commonest genera of fishes in the tropical seas of the Atlantic, Australian and Indo-Pacific regions is the Chxtodon, which is particularly attractive on account of the form and the singular brilliance of the coloration of its species. The heaps of fish that my boys, a couple of urchins not more than four years of age, used, by alternately harpooning and diving after them to bring in, formed when piled on the white background of the coral shore, a bright picture indeed from the wonderful variety of their colours—emerald-green, eobalt- blue, rich orange, and even scarlet. Most of the lagoon fishes are good for food; but there is a species of Scarus which requires to be prepared for the table with very great care, for should the gall-bladder be ruptured, and its contents escape into the body-cavity, the flesh of the fish becomes quite poisoned. Several fatal cases had oceurred in the settlement, especially among children, who almost immediately after partaking of the flesh were seized with giddiness and stupor, followed by death, with a dropsical state of the body, within two or three hours. The effect of the application of the bile externally produced simply a bad fester. A woman while cleanin ¢ such a fish by the shore, on one occasion threw out the entrails on the water, when a x rigate-bird ( Tachypetes minor) which had been hovering over her, swooping down picked up the tempting morsel; but it had risen only some thirty feet in the air, when it fell back on the water lifeless. The sharks, the albacore (Thynnus termo) and the baracuta are the pirates of the lagoon, and the chief agents In restraining its over-population. IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 25 Among the branches of the ginger-coral, a great variety of Crustacea are to be seen creeping about, and in all the crevices Mollusca of every family, most conspicuous among them being the giant clams of the genus Tridacna, whose mantle edged with turquoise beads forms a beautiful object to look down on; but one must shudder for the diver who should accidentally thrust his head or a limb into its gape, which the slightest touch causes to close with a snap. Nor was the interest of the atoll confined to its surf-beaten barrier and its teeming lagoon ; every foot of the surface of the land, every atom of its substance, every stem of the vegetation that covered it, and each separate existence that crept or winged itself on and around it, by its very presence in this mid-ocean speck, was charged with a wondrous tale of strange vicissitudes and wanderings. By the inner margins of some of the islands (as will be seen on looking at the map), and forming lagoonlets in some of them, there are soft imy mud- flats, which are gradually becoming land, mainly by slow elevation and by crustacean agency. One of the largest of these is in West Island. Its lagoon- ward portion, near the entrance conduit, which is submerged at high water, is tenanted by two, if not three, species of crab (Gelasimus vocans, tetragonon, and annulzpes). ‘They live in narrow corkscrew burrows, round the top of which there is always a little mound just such as is seen about an earth- worm’s; and indeed they are most perfect worm substitutes. I counted one hundred and twenty of their holes m an area only two feet square ; and as there were many square acres in the ground of which I speak, some idea of the number of this busy army may be obtained. They were incessantly active during the recess of the tide and even during high water, which is generally perfectly still, in carrying down twigs of trees or fucus leaves, scraps of cocoanut shell, and seeds, laying the foundation of the future land. On placing the foot on the region occupied by them, one perceives an undulation of the surface followed, over a circular area, by a surprising change of the pure white ground into a warm pink colour, which for the moment the stranger puts down to some affection of his eyes from the reflection of the light. He soon perceives that this movement is caused by the simul- 26 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS —_ Me taneous stampede of the dense crowd of the peopled shore into their dwellings, just within the door of which they halt, with the larger of their two pincer-claws, which is of a rich pink colour, effectually barring the entrance except where one watehful stalked eye is thrust out to take an inquiring look ‘¢ the alarm is real. As one advances the pink areas again change into white, as the Crustaceans withdraw into their sub- terranean fastnesses. On traversing a broad field occupied by these crabs, the constant undulations and change of colours, produce a curious dazzling effect on the eyes. The land between tide-marks is occupied by another turret- eyed vigilant pioneer of vegetable occupation against marine possession, which extends its operations further landward than the Gelasimus, and where the ground is more or less wet. This is a species of Macrophthalmus whose colour protects it from eeneral observation till it starts to run. One-third of its time is spent under water, and two-thirds in energetic mining opera- tions on land. It is to be seen constantly scattering around it, with a nervous jerk, the arm-fulls of sand which, held between its body and clawed foot, it has dragged up from below out of the burrows into which it carries all sorts of vegetable débras. On the slightest sound it scampers off to take refuge in the water, and is at once noticeable by its mobile stalked eyes curi- ously pricked up high over its body. These eye-stalks are conical cylinders set round, except on the narrow area along which they are applied to each other in the mid-line of the body, with facets which really form perfect little watch-towers. commanding an unobstructed outlook to all points of the compass. The area along the dry margin of the land is occupied by a third—a short-eyed—species of crab (Ocypoda), whose labours seem to tell more than those of the others. Besides burying smaller particles of vegetable débris, it lowers down large branches of trees, and even cocoa-nuts, by scooping away the soil below them, and carries down also the newly fallen seeds of the iron-wood tree (Corda). Both these trees, which along with a rough sort of grass (Lepturus repens) and the hard- wooded Pemphis acidula lead the van of vegetable occupation of lands wrested from the sea, are in this way aided in their forward march. As soon, however, as its busy labours have IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 27 changed the white calcareous fore-shore into a dark vegetable mould, its occupation seems gone, and it retires in quest of new land to conquer. Further Jandward the soil is tilled and turned up to the sun and rain by a species of Gecarcinus, which lives almost entirely in the dry land, visiting the sea only in times of great drought. A still more effective tiller is the great cocoa-nut crab (Birgus latro), one of the largest of shore Crustacea. It is chiefly noe- turnal in its habits, and is not so often seen as the others. It makes in the ground deep tunnels, larger than rabbit burrows, lined for warmth (?) with cocoa-nut fibre. It has a habit of climbing the cocoa-nut palms, but whether to take the air or for temporary lodging is doubtful; it does not rob the trees, however, as has been charged against it, since it feeds only on fruits that have fallen. One of its pincer-claws is developed into an organ of extraordinary power, capable, when the creature is enraged, of breaking a cocoa-nut shell ora man’slimb. ‘The inner edges of the claw are armed with a series of white enamelled denticulations whose resemblance to teeth is singularly close, even to the irregular scarlet line below them which might pass for gums. The DBirgus feeds on the nuts almost exclusively, using its great claw to denude the frnit of the husk surrounding it, and to get at the eye of the nut, which it has learned is the only easy gateway to the interior. Or the three eye-spots seen at the eud of a cocoa-nut only one permits an easy entrance. The Birgus does not waste its energies in denuding the whole nut, and it never denudes the wrong end. Having pierced the proper eye with one of its spindle ambulatory legs, it rotates the nut round it till the orifice is large enough to permit the insertion of its great claw to break up the shell and triturate its contents, whose particles it then carries to its mouth by means of its other and smaller cheliferous foot. From this nutritious diet it accumulates beneath its tail a store of fat, which dissolves by heat into a rich yellow oil, of which a large specimen will often yield as much as two pints. Thickened in the sun, it forms an excellent substitute for butter in all its uses. I discovered it to be a valuable pre- serving lubricant for guns and steel instruments; and only when a small bottle of it, which I had had for two years, was — 28 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS finished, did I fully realise what a precious anti-corrosive in these humid regions I had lost. na The Birgus, though belonging to a water-living family, spends the greater part of its time on the land, and Professor Semper* has discovered that, following on its change of habit, - a portion of the gill-cavities of this singular crustacean have become modified into an organ for breathing air—‘ into a true lung,” in fact. ae, Not less interesting than the marine, was the terrestrial life of these lonely isles. Mr. Darwin’s famous visit was made about eleyen years after their colonisation. More than half a century more had elapsed till I landed there. In 1836 Mr. Darwin gathered some twenty-two species of flowering plants. On comparing the list (at the end of this Part) of the plants collected or identified on the atoll by me with Professor Hens- low’s of those collected by Mr. Darwin, it will be observed that considerable additions have been made to its flora. It is not improbable, howeyer, that a few of those not enumerated by Professor Henslow may have been overlooked by Darwin during the occupied days of the Beagle’s short stay. Some are of more recent introduction, and are due with little doubt to the accidents of human inter-communication, while others have been intentionally introduced. Direct intercourse has prinei- pally been with Java, Mauritius, and India, and occasionally with Australia, by means of horse-laden vessels calling for water. The greater part of the indigenous vegetation consists, as Mr. Darwin has pointed out, of plants common to Australia and Timor; and it is certainly these we should most expect to find here, as the ocean currents which wash the shores of the atoll by running westward from Australian seas, and sweeping round north-eastward in the Indian Ocean towards Sumatra and Java, bring it nearer to Australia and the eastern part of the Archipelago than to its geographically closer neighbours. Thus by slow degrees and after many a failure have the ocean streams succeeded in clothing this lone speck with verdure. | When first occupied the islands were covered abundantly with iron-wood (Cordia) and Pemphis acidula, as well as cocoa palms. Accidental fires, however, both on North Keeling é 43 Cf. ‘The Natural Conditions of Existence as they affect Animal Life,’ by Karl Semper. International Series; p. 193. Kegan Paul & Co. 1881. IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 29 —_— (fifteen miles distant) and on the south islands, destroyed nearly all the iron-wood forests, the most valuable timber the colonists possessed. ‘This tree grows often with a most curious arching habit, and as the name they have given it indicates, its timber is very durable. I sawa trunk on one of the islets which after an exposure of over forty years was in every part perfectly sound ; and a beam whose natural curve fitted without artificial bend- ing the double arch of the ribs of a schooner of 200 tons building on the stocks of the island. The vegetation of the islands is now almost entirely cocoa-nut trees. The history of this commonest member of its family might occupy a long and interesting chapter, if space permitted. Few, perhaps, know it better than Mr. Ross; and while enjoy- ing the grateful shade and the delicious beverage that its fruits supply, I passed many a pleasant half hour in listening to his accounts of its growth and habits. As a rule it is a branchless palm, but on West Island he took me to see its rare occurrence as a branching tree, which, instead of fruiting spikes, invariably produced persistent branches crowned with a bunch of leaves—adding to the beauty of the already graceful palm. Most nuts, as is well known, contain, on opening them, only one ovary cavity, but, as the three eye-spots indicate, all nuts ought to have, were they not naturally suppressed, three of these. Many of the Keeling palms produce not only their full com- plement of three compartments, but, what is more surprising, some have as many as eight and even fourteen. Such nuts produce palms with a common root, but with as many stems as they have cells. Under favourable conditions the cocoa-nut can produce its first fruit within four years from the fall of the seed nut from its parent tree, while it can go on for an unknown period throwing out every month a new fruit spike bearing from seven to fourteen nuts, which require from eight to thirteen months to ripen. The palms in the centre of the islets grow to a greater height some of them to 120 feet,—on account of the deeper soil and more abundant supply of fresh water, than those along the shores, but the oil-producing capacity of their fruit is not, however, greater. More oil is obtained from nuts which have formed during the early part, and ripened during the later months of the year. Mr. Ross assured me that during every 4 50 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS full moon, many of the fruits exposed fully to its rays are blighted, the pulp becoming puckered and shrunk. Sun- stroke, he said, was also very common ; but in this case the affected nut shrivels up, and when it is opened only a withered embryo is found inside. I searched for the two trees seen, but not obtained by Mr. Darwin, as mentioned in his ‘ Voyage.’ Of the one “of great height on West Island” I would have secured specimens but for an unfortunate discharge by a twig of Mr. Ross’s gun, resulting in a severe and painful wound to his hand (happily not more serious than a bad flesh wound), which necessitated our return home, before we had succeeded. As it was the last occasion I could visit the islet, I was unable certainly to iden- tify the tree, although from the seeds which I obtained, I have: little doubt that it is a species of Pzsonia (probably P. znermis) which is found in the Australian and Pacific islands. Its seeds are spiny and glutinous, and, by adhering in great numbers to their feathers, often prove fatal to the herons that nest in its summit. As many sea-fowl have almost a cosmo- politan distribution, it is easy to perceive how widely this tree might be disseminated by the birds that roost on it. Mr. Darwin records that he took pains to collect every kind of insect he saw. Exclusive of spiders, which were numerous, thirteen species were found by him. A list of all those ‘col- lected or seen by me would far outrun Mr. Darwin’s, showing that by some means or other species are still finding their way to this distantspot. Unfortunately, this collection was destroyed on my way back to Java, and cannot be now named ; but few, if any, of the species were referable to Australian, Timorese or East Archipelago forms, so that the origin of the fauna is evidently different from that of the flora of the atoll, and is doubtless due to many chance passengers, that half a century of the coming and going of ships has brought as stowaways and landed unknowingly ; now an adhering cluster of eggs, now a gravid female, or perchance a mated couple. From the testi- mony of Mr. Ross, whom I have found a most accurate observer, the eyclones of 1863 and of 1876 added, if not new species, at least a host of new individuals to the Keeling fauna. _Among Coleoptera Mr. Darwin mentions only one small later ; while I observed hosts of small Melolonthide (genus oe IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 31 Serica) and Rutelide (genus Anomala), whose presence, I am told, had been noted in abundance for only a few years previous to my visit. I saw them frequenting almost every open flower, towards which they were performing the kind fertilising office usually done by bees, whose place they seemed to take. Of Orthoptera, besides the ubiquitous cockroach (Blatta orientalis), there were a few Acrididae, and the common locust, which was found in increased numbers after the cyclone. The Hemiptera were represented by several species. Of Neuroptera, white ants had spread their baneful hordes to most of the islands; while Chrysopa innotataand dragon-flies were very plentiful. Immediately after the cyclone the surface of the water was observed to be densely strewn with broken bodies of the latter, as if, in its course, the wind had encountered a cloud of them, and scattered their mangled remains as it travelled. I did not succeed in collecting any true Hymenoptera, but ants were abundant; a minute Fire-ant (Camponotus), the common Javan long-legged venomless species, and several black sorts had become domiciled on the islands. Every trading vessel in the tropics has its formicine fauna, and cannot help acting asa transporter of all sorts of ants from one region of it to another. Lepidoptera had perhaps increased more than any other family. The Diopea, so common in Java among the sensitive Mimosa, and a minute Plume-moth sheltering among the red-wood (Pem- phis acidula), and the Scevola, were perhaps the most common ; the large Atlas-moth had become a settled resident here, as well as several moderately large diurnal species with a habit of pitching on the warm, bare ground and frequenting the Guetarda and the Asclepias cuirassavica. Among several sorts of flies, an As¢dus, much like the large carnivorous fly common in South Europe, was most conspicuous. The Mammalian fauna of the Keelings was an entirely introduced one. A herd of deer on Horsburgh Island, was in- teresting as being a cross between the Javan Rusa (Cervus hip- pelaphus) and the darker Sumatran species (Cervus equinus). Pigs ran semi-wild, and throve remarkably well on the broken scraps of cocoa-nuts everywhere lying about in the woods. Australian sheep, which fed on the Portulaca oleracea, on a species of grass, and on the tubers of an aroid which they scraped up, did not seem to suffer much from the novel maritime 29 Vai < { NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS conditions under which they found themselves. The settlers would be rendered supremely happy if such conditions would by any means prove prejudicial to the rats—the sole living ereature unwelcome to their island home,—whose fecundity 1s becoming appalling, for every vessel that calls serves to infuse only fresh blood and vigour into the race. Occasionally flying foxes (Pteropus) reach the atoll, but hitherto in too exhausted a state to survive. Once a pair arrived together; but both, unfortunately, soon died. It is not improbable that some day, through the favourable cir- eumstance of an unusually strong and healthy pair shaping their course Keeling-wards, they may yet survive the arduous journey, and the atoll find them some morning added to its fauna. What has only just failed here, has doubtless sue- ceeded in other oceanic islands, with different volant species. Bird life was limited, but very interesting. Graceful Noddies (Anous stolidus) and Gannets (Swa piscatrim) were in thousands; and I had the satisfaction of watching what has been over and over described, but was new to me, how their industrious habits are taken advantage of by the swift-winged Frigate-birds. Hiding in the lee of the cocoa-nut trees, the Tachypetes would sally out on the successful fishers returning in the evening, and perpetrate a vigorous assault on them till they disgorged for their behoof at least a share of their supper, which they caught in mid-air as it fell. Such feelings of reprobation as I ought to have felt at their conduct was, I fear, not very deep ; for the swoop after the falling spoil was so elegant an evolution, that, I confess, I always hoped that the poor Noddy would give up as heavy a morsel as possible, in order to necessitate a correspondingly eager dive after it. Refractory Gannets were often seized by the tail by the Frigate-birds, and treated to a shake that rarely failed of successful results. Fierce foes as they were in the air, on terra firma they roosted near each other like the best of friends. . They breed only on North Keeling, and during that season the bare skin of the throat is of a very rich scarlet colour. They are powerful fliers, and can head against even a gale by taking in a reef in their long wings, so as to expose only the greater quills to its force. The Tachypetes minor used to nest in the bushes of Pemphis IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 33 acidula on the South Keeling group; but since the settle- ment, constant interruption from the nut-gatherers has driven it to breed in North Keeling. When brought up from the nest in a state of semi-captivity, they can be trained to aid in the capture of their fellows, which are much used as food by the settlers. A hunter wishing to shoot a few of these birds, throws out within gunshot on the surface of the water a piece of attractive bait, which the tame Frigate-bird swoops down, almost osten- tatiously, time after time, to pick up. Several of its hungry brethren, always hanging about, soon make their appearance to struggle for a share; after two or three gyrations, the eager stranger swoops down for the tempting morsel, the decoy soars out of reach, while his unfortunate dupe falls a victim. If the others take flight, the same tactics will be followed again and again by the decoy, who exhibits no alarm at the report of the gun or the death throes of its companions. The white, satin-feathered Tropic-bird (Phaeton candidus) was far from uncommon; but being a very high flier it was difficult to secure specimens of it. I was happy, nevertheless, to be able to examine in the flesh one, at least, of these beautiful creatures. It must possess wonderfully acute powers of sight, for when sailing along at a great elevation, I have seen it suddenly descend like an arrow, disappear below the surface of the sea, and in a few moments soar up with its prey in its mouth. On West Island two species of Heron (Herodias nigripes, and Demiegretta sacra) nested on the high Pisonza trees, and, as I have said above, often died from the number of the glutinous seeds which clogged their feathers. The Australian Night- heron (Nycticoraa caledonicus) builds on the same trees. This is the first record of its occurrence so tar to the west, and ranging, as it does, from New Caledonia through the Moluc- eas and Timor, some ancestor of its own may, perchance, have carried out thence the seeds of the trees on which it now builds, just as its own young may be now distributing them to distant isles. The most engaging of all the birds was our little pilot, the pure white Tern (Gygis candida) so chastely spoken of by Mr. Darwin. As the swallow is to us, such a pet is this bird to 34 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS the settlers. It chooses a strange place to set its nest in, if one may so speak of its brooding place. Its solitary egg is deposited on the leaf of a young cocoa-nut palm, at the time when the leaf has rotated from its vertical position to one nearly at right angles to the stem. The egg is laid in the narrow angular gape between two leaflets on the summit of the arch of the leaf, where it rests securely, without a scrap of nest, in what one would think the most unsafe position possible, yet defying the heaving and twisting of the leaves in the strongest winds. ‘The leaf, as in all palms, goes on drooping further and further till it falls; and among the settlers it is a subject of keen betting, when they see a Tern sitting on an ominously withered leaf, whether the young bird will be hatched or not before the leaf falls. The result I am told has always been in favour of the bird; if the leaf fall in the afternoon, the Tern will have escaped from the egg in the morning. Not infrequently the “ Tjoo-Tjooit ” lays its egg on a ledge in the work-sheds of the island, but it never builds a nest. The young one is fed incessantly by the parents with fishes, whick are brought in mouthfuls of generally six at a time, arranged alternately head aad tail. The old birds often feed on the Papaya fruit, hovering on their wings all the while like honeysuckers at a flower. This beautiful bird is to be found only on the lone islands of the great oceans. z Besides the little Philippine Rail (Rallus philippensis), a resident species often employed by the colonists to hatch out their domestic fowls, which they do with care, a species of Snipe and a Teal visit the islands every February and March in large numbers, where they find a grateful rest in that annual voyage— whence and whither I could not ascertain—that the changing seasons resistlessly impel them to. Jungle fowl, introduced from Java, were breeding and throve well; and lastly, I ob- tained some nests of the Yellow Weaver-bird (Ploceus hypow- anthus.) Strange to say, it also comes often across the sea (most probably from Java) to nest on this lone island. Mr. Ross in- formed me that it builds more frequently on North Keeling ; neither parents nor brood, however, take up their residence, but wend their way back whence they came, leaving their elegant flask-shaped nests on the branches of the trees to intimate that they have come and gone, HEAL TO VE SUTIN UL V2. Cy ee Se epoc To escape this latter most improbable admission, which implies the existence of submarine chains of mountains of almost the vue wom ULES WY MUTE WITT MUS vuarcy” Calle, reaving tas Bi elegant flask-shaped nests on the branches of the trees to intimate that they have come and gone. IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 35 CHAPTER ITI. SOJOURN IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS—continued. Coral reef formation—Observations on the elevation or subsidence of the Keeling atoll. As the Keeling atoll was the reef most carefully examined and described by Mr. Darwin, and that with which, in propounding his famous theory of coral reefs, he has compared the others he describes, I felt specially pleased at being able to go over his own ground with his book in my hand, and gain a clearer understanding of several points which I had found it difficult to comprehend. Unfortunately the weather during my visit was not suffi- ciently favourable to enable me to examine so closely as I could have desired the corals of the outer margins or to make the series of seaward soundings I had intended. The first questions that present themselves to the traveller in midst of his amazement on first reaching that peculiar production of the warm seas—an island-speckled ring of coral holding its own against the waves—are, How came it into being here, Why of this singular form, and How does it continue to exist ? Mr. Darwin was the first to attempt any far-reaching solution of these difficult questions, applicable to coral forma- tions over all the world. As true reef-building corals, it is well known, can flourish only beneath a very limited depth—some twenty fathoms—of water, a great apparent difficulty existed “respecting the foundations on which these atolls are based, from the immensity of the spaces over which they are inter- spersed and the apparent necessity for believing that they are all supported on mountain summits, which, although rising very rear to the surface of the sea, in no one instance emerge above it. To escape this latter most improbable admission, which implies the existence of submarine chains of mountains of almost the NORTH ISLAND | Soundings extend Srales| \tp the East of the a} Abnost pe perutti po soundings I i ruroung SH, meec{?) Le NW, spit Pham. S. Keeling | canbe seen in cabn eather may bebreer. He bvo Pande, Loe Spit of Coral & Soundings said tp extend - nearly Sales toe SSW —— a Zz 8 34 4 ip Uneven Coral, 4 4% 4 withkwuls 3x ( |b Turk 4 ; Reet —— % 44 orig! patches g very rapidly and a Serres) Az F Deep pita betwe i 2 my sturunoy 4 Guup | GENERAL MAP showing’the relative position of the Islands.) 40" 06°50" np yo 18 8 sno? INDIAN OCEAN & Map of the .§ COCOS or KEKLING ISLANDS 270 exhibiting the changes that have talzn place since 1836. cL Sa ee son Sl ~ The outline and. remarks printed. in black 1s a reduolion of the Admiralty chart uiblished in 1866, The changes that have oocurred.,as detineated by ME Forbes, 1879, ure marked in Red Area of poisoned water, Jan 1876... Soundings tn tathams-those marked, this sp that no bottom was found. at, those depths. —S== ——Tt ~, ae 56 58 ire 36 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS same height, extending over areas of many thousand square miles, there is but ore alternative ; namely, the prolonged subsi- dence of the foundations on wh ich the atolls were primarily based, together with the upward growth of the reef-constructing corals.” i! “Since Mr. Darwin published this theory, several expeditions expressly directed towards the examination of the floor of the creat oceans have taken place, prominent among them being the United States Exploring Expedition, the Tuscarora, the Blake, and our own Challenger voyages. These have put us in possession of a large body of facts scarcely guessed at when Mr. Darwin broke deep ground on this subject. Mr. Dana, Professor Semper, Professor Agassiz and Mr. Murray of the Challenger staff, have also specially made coral reefs a subject of study. These three last named investigators have shown that the explanation of coral reef formation may be in other causes than those of elevation and subsidence. Great submarine banks have been discovered, “covered by deposits of Pteropods and Globigerina ooze serving as foundations for barrier reefs and atolls, while their volcanic substratum has been completely hidden.” “The fact that these great submarine banks of modern limestone lie in the very track of the great oceanic currents sufficiently shows that these currents hold the immense quantity of carbonate of lime needed in the growth of the banks. . . . Mr. Murray has shown that if the pelagic fauna and flora extend ..., as experiments seem conclusively to prove, to a depth of 100 fathoms, we should have 16 tons of carbonate of lime for every square mile 100 fathoms deep. But the greater the depth at which these plateaux begin to form, the less rapid must be their formation. Deep. water itself being, as Professor Ditmar has recently shown,f a greater solvent (not from, as has been held, its containing a much greater proportion of free carbonie acid, but because of its depth,) than shallower water, would dissolve up all the lighter and thinner calcareous shells and débris; while in less deep water, the dead siliceous and calcareous shells of Foraminifera, Sponges, Hy- droids, Corals, Mollusea, ete., would accumulate and build up these plateaux,” with a caleareous conglomerate. “ Whenever ie Phe Stru ture and Distribution of Coral Reefs,’ by Charles Darwin, 1842, pp. 146-7. The italics are the present author’s, : : t Official Report of the Scientific Results of the Voyage of H.M.S. Challenger: Physics and Chemistry. Vol. [, ; IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 37 such plateaux have reached, on their windward side, the leyel at which corals prosper, that is, some 120 feet below the surface, these coral reefs spring up and flourish,”* and subsisting at a greater depth than all others, a solid foundation is laid by the close compactly growing Astra ; then on their dense floor, in whose myriad crannies, molluscs and all manner of marine beings have sheltered, died and left their shells compacted by the carbonate of lime let loose from their partial disintegration and solution into asolid limestone conglomerate consisting of coral, of shells and of all that may have fallen on it, which they have raised layer above layer as near the surface as they may, the Brain-corals (Meandrina) and the Porites assume and continue the upward task till they “in their turn reach the limit beyond which they are forbidden by the laws of their nature to pass. . . . But the coral wall continues its steady progress; for here the lighter kinds set in—the Madrepores, the Millipores and a great variety of Sea-Ferns,—and the reef is crowned at last with a many-coloured shrubbery of low feathery growth.” ft This is in its main outlines Murray’s, Semper’s, and Agassiz’s explanation of how a reef originates. Unfortunately for my own satisfaction and guidance when examining the Keeling reef, I had not read Professor Semper’s views, and those of the other two naturalists were not then published. I have now pictured the reef as risen to almost the surface of the sea at ebb spring- tides; higher than this the coral polyps, which die when exposed for a very short period only to the air and the sun, cannot raise it; but as corals flourish best in the battle of the waves, which are better aérated and charged with the pelagic life which sustains them, they can extend only seaward and grow their fastest, checked solely where ocean currents scour too fiercely past them. In this stage such a coral structure (as the Keeling atoll) might be seen to be roughly circular in form,— observable also in all the raised islets of the group as well as in North Keeling,—doubtless by being beaten on all sides. Travelling from the exterior margin of the reef inwards, coral growth from less abundant sustenance is seen to be less * «The Tortuga and Florida Reefs,’ by Alexander Agassiz, Mem. Am. Soc. of Arts and Sc., vol. xi. p. 113. + ‘Florida Reefs,’ L. Agassiz, Mem. Mus. Comp. Zoology, p. 49. Proc. R. S. Edinb., No. 107, 1880 ; “ On the Structure and Origin of Coral Reefs and Islands.” a 0 0 B A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS luxuriant and has grown to a less height than more externally, and consequently we have a Lagoon, which sometimes, though rarely, is enclosed by an unbroken ring of coral ; more com- monly, however, (as in Keeling atoll) the reef is intersected by several channels communicating between the lagoon and the outer ocean. ‘Chese channels are produced by many causes, such as, swift currents interrupting the growth, decay of the coral from local causes, and natural or accidental dis- turbances. On a subsiding or stationary foundation such a reef, raised to the level of low-water mark, can never by any luxuriance of its own growth rise above the water level and become a coral island. Great storms, however, by breaking off blocks of its living and eyer seaward-growing margin, and throwing them on the lagoonward portion of the reef, alone are able to commence the raising above the surface of the ocean of future islets, on which after the gradual accumulation of soil, consisting of sand and the decaying flotsam and jetsam of the ocean, and the germinating seeds that the winds, the sea currents, or the birds of the air may chance to cast on its bosom, a green clothing of vegetation inevitably grows up. In traversing the Keeling atoll it seemed to be unaccount- able how the interior, or lagoon margins of the islets, which must necessarily have been thrown up above water at the earliest stage of the existence of the atoll, still continue (on the supposition that the atoll is subsiding) several feet elevated above high-water level, and show no indication of the water's encroachment. As a storm so violent as the cyclone of 1876 was capable of piling the torn-off blocks of the reef- floor—composed of a natural concrete of worn coral, shells, and the hard parts of pelagic animals, imbedded in a solid calcareous matrix—only a few yards over the higher edge of the island, it is impossible for the lagoon margins, in some places more than 800 yards distant from the sea, to be kept up in elevation by the debris of the outer margin ; and the greatest storms do not affect perceptibly or permanently the shores of the lagoon. : Mr. Ross informed me that what Mr. Darwin, from the undermining of cocoa-nut trees seen by him, supposed to be sea encroachments, was intermittently taking place during IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 39 gales round the lagoon shores; and pointed out to me that where, in such places, a portion of the land was washed out, the same amount was replaced in some adjacent part of the shore. He showed me also on the little islet, named in the chart Workhouse Island, a. rather exposed corner which had been completely washed away with all the trees on it, in the eyclone of 1876, but which in January, 1878, had become to a great extent replaced. A period going on for half a century had elapsed since Mr. Darwin’s observations, and the encroach- ments of the sea on the land had, in my judgment at least, not increased at all; on the contrary, it struck me that the land was gaining on the lagoon. This, too, was Mr. Ross’s opinion, from a thorough and intelligent knowledge of every part of its coast and surface. On West Island, in a short time the lagoonlet will be entirely converted into dry land. At present it is nearly filled up, and remains dry at all ordinary tides except on two or three occasions a year, with a pure white chalk-like sediment, the detritus of coral-attrition by the waves washed in from the outside of the reef, where the sea is always more or less turbid; all along its coast also, as far as its south corner, the West Island is gaining ground by the accumu- lation of sediment. If subsidence were proceeding, this sedi- ment could not rise above high-water level. In the centre of Horsburgh Island, which is three-quarters of a mile in breadth, the ground exhibits an unbroken solid conglomerate surface not composed of the strewn debris from storms; and a lakelet of salt water containing no life, which occurs in it, seems to be an old lagoon extremely shallow and nearly obliterated. In North Island also, 15 miles distant, as Mr. Ross told me, the lagoon was rapidly filling up; its entrance passage has since our knowledge of it been always barred by the reef. In all these islands, in sinking wells down for some 12—20 feet through the solid conglomerate of which all the islands are composed, fresh water can be found. The only exception is Direction Island, in which no fresh water has been discovered, and which is entirely composed, as far as borings have been made, of shingle debris such as is found along the beach of the seaward margin. Between Direction Island and Workhouse Island I observed 40 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS —_—<—<$<$<$——— what seemed to me signs of recent elevation. At ebb tide there the water was very shallow and quite warm to the hand, and I noticed Ostrvide, small Tridacne and other shells all dead where they grew, doubtless killed by exposure to the sun at low tide and by the fresh water during heavy rains. Of these tropical downpours, Darwin records one as having taken place before his visit, and Mr. Ross told me that in 1866, there were several months of such continuous rain that the fresh water stood for several inches on the surface of the lagoon, causing the death of large numbers of fish, and no doubt of corals also. Completely surrounding this little islet was a thrown-up beach of very white sand, quite different from that I saw anywhere else on the atoll, composed entirely of the minute shells of molluscs, Echini, and of crabs, with a small proportion of coral débris, probably raised by the waves from the seaward slope of the barrier, indicating, perhaps, a less abrupt descent than has been supposed. Since its first occupation (by Ross Primus) the lagoon has greatly filled up with coral patches and sediment, as he could sail his vessel much farther up towards South-east Island than now, and several boat channels cut as indicated on the map have become quite obliterated. On the east side of the atoll the islets are much smaller than at any other part, and this may result if such an untoward circum- stance as the irruption of poisoned water, such as I have recorded above, were to occur at frequent intervals. It is possible also that such a stream might issue frequently, if not in great quantity, without being observed. I incline to believe, therefore, that the Keeling reef foundation has arisen as Murray, Semper and Agassiz have suggested ; but that its islets have been the result of the combined action of storms and the slow elevation of the vol- canically upheaved ocean floor, on which the reef is built.* The atoll offers to the marine biologist a rich mine that would take not a few years of working to exhaust;f to the __™ An abstract of an exhaustive resumé and discussion by Dr. A. Geikie, i’.R.S., of the Coral Reef theories will be found in Nature, Nov. 29 and Dee. 6, 1583, of which the full text has just been published in the Proc. Phys. Soc, Edin., vol. viii. (1884). . + I have elsewhere (Proc. R. G. S., March 1884) directed attention to the admirable situation of this spot for a Biological and Meteorological Station, where it could be kept up at the most trifling cost. x ' IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 4] philosopher and student of human nature not a little to reflect on, as to the effect on the colonists of a life so isolated, so apart from the active stimulus of rivalry, and the sharp incentives to advancement born of public opinion and the intercourse of fresh minds, and so distant from the cheering influence of the warm sympathies of their fellow men; yet among whom, at least, instead of symptoms of physical, mental or moral ' degeneration—despite the belief of Mr. Dana * that, “ notwith- standing all the products and all the attractions of a coral island, even in its best condition, it is but a miserable place for arn development, physical, mental or moral,’—he would find continuous endeavour, industry and care crowned with progress, and lives spent in contented happiness; to myself it had opened a field of study charged in every aspect with all that was interesting and very much that was new. On the 8th of February Mr. Ross brought me at last the inevitable news that the Mabel was again freighted with her cargo of nuts and oil, and would sail next day for Batavia, coupled, however, with a warm invitation to wait till her next return from Batavia, and visit in the meantime the North Keelings. Every consideration urged me to accept, but it was with liveliest regret that I found it impossible to do so. The recollection of its pleasures and its owner’s Highland- chieftain-like hospitality (born of his blood) will ever make the Keeling atoll a memory to dwell on. On the 9th we set sail, and falling in a few days later with the steadily blowing Monsoon wind we scudded gaily along before it, and anchored in Batavia on the 16th, accomplishing in a week what it had taken us thirty days to sail over on our outward voyage. * Dana, ‘Corals and Coral Islands,’ p, 246. APPENDIX TO PART I. oo Note.—J., represents Java; 'T., Timor; T-L., Timor-laut; Sum., Sumatra; T vA. Tristan a Actinlin: ‘The plants obtained by Mr. Darwin were described by Rey. J. S. Henslow in Ann. Nat. Hist., vol. i. p. 337. 2 Observed by I.—List of the Keeling Atoll Pants. (utr. Darwin. ‘Ihe Author. Anonacex. Anona reticulata, Z. es ae ne Se te — x Crucifere. Sinapis juncea, Z. Aru... af i si a — x Capparidacee. Gynandropsis, sp. Prob. cultivated. .. xe oe — x Malvacee. Hib’scus tiliaceus, Z. T., J., Pacf. Ids. Bd ute x 22 Hibiscus Rosa-sinensis, Z. Introduced. het cs as — x Sida carpinifolia, L. fil. Madeira. Mauritius. a6 — x Tiliaceer. Triumfetta procumbens, Forse. oe 20 SC x x Lequminose. Acacia farnesiana, W. T. os 58 ee we x x Poinciana pulcherrima, Z, Introduced a 5c — x Guilandina Bondue, Ait. 33 : x x Rosacex. Eriobotrya, sp. Cultivated... de A a -— x Rosa centifolixu, Z. Cultivated, 5c — x Myrtacex. Guava, spp. Cultivated. oh : Be ae — x Lythracez. Pemphis acidula, Forst. T. ,, < x Papayacee. Carica papaya, L, ae se < - — x Crassulacex. Bryophyllum calycinum, Salish. — x Portulacezx. Portulaca oleracea, Z. T.-L. ae Se oh Se x Rubiacex. Guettarda speciosa, L. T. Morinda citrifolia, Z. TT, ee x IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS Compositx. Sonchus oleraceus, Z. J., Sum., TI’. d’A, Apocynacex. Vinea rosea, L. . ee c: Ochrosia parviflora, Hensl. Goodenoviex. Sczevola Koenigii, Vahl. T. .. Asclepiadiacex. Asclepias curassavica, L. J. Bignonraccer. Oroxylum indicum, Vent. Cultivated. Boraginex. Cordia subcordata, Zam. T., T-L., Austr. .. Tournefortia argentea, L. ‘I’., W. Ind. ee Solanacex. Physalis peruviana, Z. .. oc ae Sc Acanthacee. Dicliptera Burmanni, Nees, var. J., T. Labiate. Leonurus sibiricus, Z. .. Verbenacex. Stachytarpheta indica, Z. Trop. Asia. Nyctaginex. Boerhavia diffusa, W, var. B, var. y, Hensl. T. Pisonia inermis (?), Forst. Australia, Amaranthacex. Achyranthes argentea, Lam, var. villosior. T. Urticaceex. Urera Gaudichandiana, Hensi. Euphorbiacee. Ricinus communis, Z. Cultivated. ‘ Aleurites Moluecana, W. (A. 8. Keating.) Graminex. Panicum sanguinale, Lin. var. T. Stenotaphrum lepturoide, Hensl. Lepturus repens, Forst. T. Eragrostis amabilis, L. T, Fimbristylis glomeratus, Nees. Palmacex. Cocos nucifera, L., var. Bali. (A 8. Keating.) Pandanacee. Pandanus, sp. (Holman.) mt sa oe Musci. Hypnum rufescens, Hook. be st a Fungi. Polyporus luridus 38 32 a a 48 x xx | | |xxx RK we all an 44 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Il.—List of the Binns of the Keeling Islands. So aereireas “ Sais Ploceus hypoxanthus, migrant, nesting 1n North and South Keeling. Padda orizivora, in captivity. Gallus bangkiva, introduced. ee: Herodias nigripes, nesting on the Pisonia trees. Demizretta sacra, nesting on the Pisonia trees. Wee: Nycticorax caledonicus. Here found for the first time west of Timor. ‘Totanus canescens, migrant. Seolopax rusticola, migiant. © H ; 2 : ; Rallus philippensis; found in great abundance ; brings up domestic chicks, when her own eggs Lave been changed for those of fowls or ducks. Anas sp., migrant. Anous stolidus. Sula piscatrix. Tachypetes minor. Phaeton candidus. Gygis candida. ]II.—List of Coraxs collected in the Keeling Islands. Determined by S. U. Rip.ey, M.A., F.L.S., and J. J. Quecy, B.Sc. Tydrocoralline. : Millepora verrucosa, Mil-Ed. & Haime. Outside the reef. furskali, Mil.-Ed. & Haime. Inside the reef. Madreporaria. Madrepora scandens, Klaz. orbipora, Dana var. Inside the reef. Anacropora, Ridley, charactcriscd as follows :—* ANACROPORA.T ; Madreporide of ramose habit. Axis and apex of branches formed by a spongy ccenenchyma. New calicles formed centripetally, 7.e. from the base towards the apex; no calicle of any kind at the apex. Calicles equally distributed all round stem and branches, with a tendency to an arrangement in longitudinal series. Septal system well developed, com- prising two cycles of six septa each, two (approximately upper and lower) primaries being larger than the four lateral primaries. ; Obs.—Anacropora is based on the new species A. forbesi, described below, and on some forms which occur in the Challenger collection of reef-corals, to be hereafter described by Mr. J. J. Quelch, of the Natural- History Museum; I have had the advantage of Prof. Duncan’s and Mr. Quelch’s opinions on this important form, opinions which have been freely and kindly given. The general growth and other characters given above are essentially the same in all the species. In all the growth is low, the branches tending to form inosculations between each other; the stem and branches are cylindrical, and no distinet tubular calicles are formed. From Madrepora this genus differs markedly in the centripetal production of the calicles, by which the youngest calicles are always the uppermost. From the subgenus Isopora, Studer (see loc. inf. cit.), it differs in the same point, as well as in its slender dendroid growth; but the first distinction is not so marked at first sight, since the peculiar growth of Isopora almost necessitates the absence of a distinct apical calicle, but (as * Extractcd from Ann. & Mag. Nat. Hist., April 1884, p. 285, pl. xi. + From a», privative particle, &oos, summit, mépos, passage or pore ; inallusion to the absence of pores from the ends of the branches. IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 45 stated Joc. cit) the mode of gemmation is centrifugal in Isopora, as in Madrepora, s. str. Other points distinguishing Anacropora from most species of Madrepora are the formation of the axis of the branches by a spongy ccenenchyma, whereas in many (if not all) Madrepore this, in accordance with the centrifugal habit of budding, is occupied to a greater or less distance from the ends of the branches by the downward prolon- gations of the septa and the interseptal spaces of the apical calicle. The rudimentary condition of the external part of the calicle distinguishes Anacropora; for although it is commonly found (I refer to the sunk calicles occurring in so many species between the prolonged tubular or nariform ones) in some, it is never, so far as my knowledge extends, found in all the calicles in any Madrepora. Although in its general appearance it differs remarkably from even the branched species of Montipora, yet the structural differences which separate Anacropora from this genus are very far less distinctive than those which separate it from Madrepora. In the first place, in spite of its external resemblance to Madrepora, it has the same system of calicular budding (viz. centripetal, from the distal cceenenchyma) which we find well developed in the ramose Montipora ; the trabecular structure and the two-cycled arrangement of the septa is the same in both genera. On the other hand, whereas in Anacropora there is always an undifferentiated ccenenchymal apex, devoid of calicles, to the branches, in Montipora this apex appears always to bear at least one calicle on its surface. In Anacro- pora the calicles are always rather distant and tend to form lines, and are slightly raised above the surface, forming low hill-like eminences, whereas in the ramose Montipora (e.g. digitata, Dana, divaricata and superficialis, Briiggemann), which on the whole most closely approach Anacropora, the cealicles open flush with the surface, are crowded indiscriminately, and no linear arrangement is apparent. In Montipora foliosa, it is true, the calicles, especially on the posterior aspect of the corallum, are elevated in a similar manner; but the foliate growth and the monticular /nter-cali- cular eminences of the upper surface seem to remove this species far from the ramose Montipore. It seems to me not improbable that, for the reasons I have indicated, these ramose forms may have to be separated from the foliate and massive species of Montipora. The relations of Anacropora may be thus shortly stated :—Anacropora has the general growth of Madrepora, but the manner of budding of Montipora. The following is a description of the single species referable to this genus which I am able to describe; owing to the interest attaching to the type, I have allowed myself to give its characters at full length :— Awnacrorora rorbeEst, Ridley. Corallum branching frequently, dichotomously, occasionally subtri- chotomously; branches given off in succession in a subspiral manner, the planes of successive bifurcations varying from about 30° to 100° with regard to each other; angle between branches composing bifurcation 80° to 100°. Stem and branches slightly curved, the apical branches more strongly so, cylindrical, except the terminal branches, which tend to curve outwards and taper gradually to points; diameter, main axes 6-7 millim., intermediate and terminal branches about 4 millim., greatest length between bifurcations of main branches about 30 millim., terminal twigs 25 millim. long. Calicles arranged more or less definitely, for the most part in series which follow approximately the longitudinal axis of the stem and branches, the calicles of one series alternating wit those of the 5 6 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS 5 —— adjacent series; series about 2 millim. apart, calicles about 2 to 2°5 millim, apart in the series. Culicles forming, everywhere but on the tips of the branches, low rounded elevations, by the gradual rising of the surface towards their inferior margins to a height of *25 to 7 millim., and oceasionally by the similar but very slight elevation of their superior margins. Calicles orbicular, looking upwards ; orifice of adult calicles -5 to ‘7 millim. in diameter ; on the tips of the branches they open on the level of the surface of the corallum, are more or less imperfectly defined from the surrounding loose coenenchyma, and measure about *25 to ‘4 millim. in diameter. Septa trabecular, consisting of vertical series of horizontal pointed projections from the wali of the calicle, beginning just below its margin, distinct. Primaries about ‘25 millim. in length in full- grown calicles, comprising two main, opposite ones, variously placed (i.e. from parallel to the long axis to at an angle of 45° with the same), which converge towards the bottom of the calicle, where they meet and form a vertical plate; the other primaries are slightly smaller and do not meet below. Secondaries varying from about half the diameter of primaries to mere points on the side of the ealicle ; the secondary septum between the two lateral primaries is sometimes wanting. —Corallum slightly vermiculate, always covered by minute points at surface (at apex looser, very porous); the outer one-quarter of diameter (except at apex, formed of a denser tissue, in which the calcareous trabecule exceed in diameter the spaces between them; the central one- half of the diameter (viz. usually about 2 millim.), consisting of a loose tissue, in which the calcareous bars are only about half the diameter of the intervening spaces; the meshes of this tissue (as seen in transverse section of a branch) elongate towards margin, smaller and relatively shorter at centre. Apices of branches, to a distance of from 2-8 millim. from the ends, formed of the looser axial coenenchyma, and carrying more or less rudimentary calicles, which are at least 1 millim. from all other calicles in the same longitudinal series. Hab. Keeling Islands, Indian Ocean; deeper water inside reef. Represented by a single colony and a detached branch, which has lived independently after its fracture from the parent specimen.* They were collected and presented to the British Museum by Mr. H. O. Forbes, F.Z.S. &e., who has already (Proc. Roy. Geogr. Soc., Dec. 1879) described these islands, and with whose name I have much pleasure in associating this new type. The chief colony measures 83 millim. (33 inches) in height, 100 millim. (4 inches) in greatest breadth, and 55 millim. (2} inches) from front to back; the detached branch, which bifureates three times, was about 60 millim. long when alive. Parts of the corallum, owing either to an evanescent pigment or to traces of animal matter, | ave a most delicate pink tint. Some interesting points are brought out by the detached branch; this occurs unrooted, but obviously had been broken off from the colony while yet alive, and lived subsequently free. As commonly happens in such cases, the fractured surface has healed over; but in this case the new material is not a continuation of the superficial coenenchyma of the adjacent side over the stump, but the prolongation outwards of the loose central coenenchyma which has developed on itself five or six young calicles. Here also the law of centripetal gemmation asserts itself, these calicles occurring on the sides of a central cone of loose coenenchyma, of ~ See Moseley's ‘Notes by a naturalist on Challenger’ Some specimens of this (Porites) species were unattached, though living, being in the form of rounded masses, entirely covered with living polyps LNs and I suppose from time to time rolled over by the waves”: p. 344. (H. O. F.] : IN THE COCOS-KEELING ISLANDS. 47 which the apex, 1 millim. long, is undifferentiated and bears no calicles. The same law is followed in the process of repair exhibited by a broken stump of a branch on the larger specimen. The wide angle of bifurcation of the branches causes the colony to assume a low decumbent form, and bringing, as it does, neighbouring branches into juxtaposition, gives riso {o anastomoses ; the branching in various planes gives it a broad top. Echinopora lamellosa, Esp. Montipora digitata, Dana. Inside the reef, sp. near expansa, Dana. Porites levis, Dana. (7) Outside the reef. Pavonia lata, Dana. Inside the reef. Pocillopora brevicornis, Lam. Inside the reef. elegans (?) Dana. Outside the reef. ieee IT, IN JAVA. CHAPTER I. SOJOURN AT GENTENG IN BANTAM. On the road—The Sundanese language—Every man a naturalist—Bird-life at Gentenge—Weaver-birds’ nests—A native rural bazaar—Forest devastation —Geological structure of the district—A wonderful case of mimicry in a spider. On my return to Java from the Keeling Islands, I had the good fortune to meet in Batavia with a countryman, Mr. Alexander Fraser, one of the few freeholders of land in Jaya, who though just starting for England, kindly offered me the privilege of collecting over his vast property situated in the western province of Bantam, and the hospitality of his house if I should choose to stay there. This offer I was only too pleased to accept, in order, while still within reach of civilisation, to become acquainted with, and gain some practical experience of, the necessities and modes of tropical life and camping, of which the novitiate traveller has such crude ideas—for collect- ing among tropical vegetation is very different from the ideas formed of it from like operations conducted amidst the sparse woods of our temperate climate ;—but principally to isolate myself from all European-speaking people for the purpose of acquiring, with the aid of a few books and chiefly with my native servants, the Malay language as rapidly as possible. In addition, the late Dr. Scheffer, the kind Director of the Botanical Gardens in Buitenzorg, had recommended to me Bantam as a profitable and by no means, botanically at least, well investigated province to visit. Having hired a couple of cahars—a sort of spring-cart with one horse, the general mode of conveyance when one travels as I was about to do, off the main roads,—one for myself and one for my baggage, I left Batavia at sunrise on the 12th of March, by the western road along the low northern shore lands towards 52 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Rangkas-betong, by the famous highway which Dandels, one of the most energetic and far-seeing of all the early Governors- General of the Dutch Indies, constructed along the whole lenzth of the island, and which has proved one of its greatest benefits and colonizers. ‘Io expedite the journeys of their various officials round their districts, at every five or six miles stable stations have been erected by the Government, where horses are changed, and which private travellers can obtain permission to make use of on payment of small mileage dues. All along the road we passed little sign-posts with Arabie inscriptions indicating how many yards of the road on each side of them must be kept in repair by the various neighbouring villages. As the keeping of the roads is most strenuously enforced, they are never out of condition, and are a pleasure to drive over. Here and there it has been impossible to bridge the larger rivers in steep defiles where the stream is deep and swift, and these are crossed in large picturesque rafts which ean accommodate horse and carriage and quite a little crowd of people at once. These rafts, by sliding on rattan rings along two strong cables of thick rattan canes securely fixed to both banks, are floated over by the ferrymen by hand-over- hand traction on these cables. When on the road the dress of the Sundanese, especially of the women and children, is invariably bright coloured calicoes, clean and newly ironed, and their head-covering is the gaily lacquered bamboo hats for whose manufacture they are famous. The burdens of the men, whatever they may consist of, are made up in neat and tastefully arranged bundles, carried always on the shoulders, suspended at the ends of a bamboo— and it is amazing what a weight these thick-set stout fellows ‘an carry in this way. Such a ferry, in the sunlight, with a background of green, wooded slopes, presents therefore always a gay scene and forms quite an interesting break in the drive. The country throughout was rather tame, being quite stripped of forest, but full of interest, as the land, being entirely under rice cultivation, was laid out in the most beautiful system of terraces. The province of Bantam is densely populated, and scarcely a portion of uncultivated land was to be observed. As Mr. Wallace in his < Malay Archipelago, has fully described, this method, introduced by the Hindus on their IN JAVA. 53 invasion of Jaya, has attained a wonderful development throughout the whole of the lowlands in the western part of the island. In these sawahs, as the natives call their wet rice fields, the grain is cultivated in small square borders separated by green, grass-ridged banks, kept constantly flooded with water brought by a wonderful network of channels in which an intricate system of sluices or valves distributes or cuts off its flow wherever desired. The entire face of such low hills as have a gentle slope, are thus laid out down to their bases, and at the season when the young corn is in its fresh green leaf the country is extremely pretty. Mr. Fraser’s estate-house at Tjikandi-Udik, which I reached late in the evening, I found to stand amid a rich and entirely cultivated country, but as regards my pursuits a barren terri- tory. After enjoying for a few days the hospitality of the Administrator I moved south-westward to Genteng in the higher region of Lebak, where I was told some forest was then being felled. Here I built a bamboo-hut in an open spot with an exhila- rating look-out on the high mountains, and alone with my Malay boys began my initiation into the language of the country, and into the nomadic joyous life of a field naturalist. Tt is a life full of tiresome shifts, discomforts, and short commons; but these are completely forgotten, and the days seem never long enough amid that constant flash of delighted surprise that accompanies the beholding for the first time of beast or bird or thing unknown before, and the throb of pleasure experienced, as each new morsel of knowledge amal- gamates with one’s self. Between myself and my boys for a time the most ludicrously comprehended sign-language was carried on, till their speech, whose sentences to my unaccustomed ears seemed composed of but one continuous word of innumerable uncouth syllables, began to shape itself into distinguishable elements, when to my amazement, as if some obstruction had been suddenly re- moved from my ears, I comprehended them as if I had been brought up among them. Before many weeks were over I could converse in the Malay tongue with an amount of freedom that surprised me. The language of the district, that is, of the Sundanese them- 54 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS selves, though containing many Javanese and Malay words, is quite distinct from either. It is a coarser and rougher speech, and it was some time before I managed to acquire it; but I found it to be—like broad Scotch in comparison with pure English—one of great expressiveness. mis As soon as I was able to follow their discourse with ease, my daily taiks with these men were a source of great pleasure to me. I soon found out that in regard to every thing around them, they were marvellously observant and intelligent. Not one or two only, but every individual amongst them seemed equally stored with natural history information. ‘There was not a single tree or plant or minute shrub, but they had a name for, and could tell the full history of; and not a note in the forest but they knew from what throat it proceeded. Every animal had a designation, not a mere meaningless designation, but a truly binomial appellation as fixed and distinctive as in our own system, differing only in the fact that their’s was in their own and not in a foreign language. Often enough this designation has so close a resemblance and sound to Latin, that it has been accepted by Western naturalists as if it had been so. One of the liveliest and most obtrusive of the squirrels in Java and Sumatra is a little red-furred creature called by the natives fwpaz, and to distinguish it from its more arboreal - congeners they add, from its habit of frequenting branches near the ground, the word tana (for earth); and Tupaia tana is its accepted scientific term among European naturalists. They have unconsciously classified the various allied groups into large comprehensive genera, in a way that shows an ac- curacy of observation that is astonishing from this dull- looking race. In this respect they excel far and away the rural population of our own country, among whom without ex- aggeration scarcely one man in a hundred is able to name one tree from another, or describe the colour of its flower or fruit, far less to name a tree from a portion indiscriminately shown him. How acute is their observation is exemplified by their name for the groups of true parasitic plants of the Loranthacee (or Misletoes), which are disseminated chiefly by being unob- trusively dropped by birds in convenient clefts of trees, they denominate as Tai booroong (“ birds’ excreta”); while to epiphytic plants they give a name that has almost the signi- IN JAVA. 55 ficance of our own scientific term. The great group of the Laurels, which so vary in flower and foliage as to be separated off into many genera by botanists, are all designated by the one name Huruw, but they are differentiated by no fewer than sixty- three different specific terms, in every instance indicating some prominent distinguishing characteristic of flower, fruit or timber; and on examination, very few indeed of them turn out not to belong to the Laurel family. Of oaks, Passang in their tongue, they discriminate sixteen different species, commencing their list with the one they consider most typical, just as we find in our own catalogues of birds, among the Warblers for instance, Cisticola cisticola representing the typical species, the Sunda- nese say Passang betil, or “true oak,” for what they consider the oak of oaks. Among animals their system of classification into genera is not carried so far; but all the more distinctive groups, especially those living in communities, and every insect and bird, if in any way peculiar or where it can be mis- taken for another, have each their own binomial appellation. I was disappointed in finding that the forest about Genteng was nearly all second growth, with scarcely any of what I was principally in search of for my herbarium—specimens of the primal trees. Birds, however, were more plentiful, and in the avenue-like roads and paths, stretching for miles in the neigh- bourhood, butterflies and other insects were very abundant, but though interesting to.me, and occasionally new to the ornithology or entomology of the Malayan region, most of them were species well known to science. Amid an expanse of low scrub in front of my door, on which the buffaloes from the neighbouring villages wandered more at their own will than directed by their young herds, stood within gunshot of my verandah table several tall trees, from which, frequented as they were at all hours of the day by different kinds of birds, I was constantly able to add with great ease to my collection, and to observe the habits of many species that it would have been difficult otherwise to see. I never tired of watching the friendly relation between the Buffalo-birds (Sturnopastor ialla and 8. melanopterus) and their bovine hosts. ‘They used to collect in impatient flocks about the hour of the return of the herd to their feeding grounds from the wallowing holes, whither in the heat of the 56 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Sie re dav thev retired; and as soon as the cattle arrived they would alight on their backs in crowds, to the evident satis- faction of the oxen, which they relieved of troublesome parasites. Although the herd-boys commonly lay dozing at full length on the buffaloes’ backs, the birds seemed to know that they were quite safe, and would even alight on the bare backs of the sleepers, and from that hop on to the haunches of the quadruped ; and when the herds were driven away at nightfall the Sturnopastors flew off to the forest. One of the rarer birds obtained here was the fine red- erested Woodpecker (Mvglyptes trists), which much resembles the M. gramminithorax of Malherbe, which is not found in Java, while the former, distinguished by its uniform black breast and abdomen, is confined to this island.* In the eloaming, frequenting leafless branches, I often saw the minute Butterfly Hawk (Microhieraz fringillarius), not so large as a shrike, darting after grasshoppers, moths and late- flying butterflies. Among the songsters that made them- selyes more noticeable by frequenting the isolated trees near my house, were the golden Oriole (Oriolus maculatus) and the yellow crowned Bulbul (Trachycomus ochrocephalus), which late in the evenings filled the whole neighbourhood with their melodious, clear, bell-like notes; while two members of the Cuckoo family, the “ Doodoot” (Rhinococcyx curvirostris) and the “ Boot” (R. javanensis) used to utter their curious bleating call in the low jungle behind, often breaking with their weird modulations the stillness of the midnight. In a neigh- bouring clump of canes a colony of Yellow Weaver-birds (Ploceus hypoxanthus) had thickly hung their nests. Each nest was artfully suspended between the interlacing leaf-stems of one or two reeds in a most skilful way, to secure as much as possible the safety of their eggs during the waving of the reeds in the wind. These nests were not made fast to, but strung lightly on the leaves, sometimes passed through the fork of another leaf to form a pulley, so as to permit, by sliding along in the swaying of the grass, of their retaining their vertical position, which they must do, weighted as they are by a layer of clay in the bottom of the nests. I noticed that many of them were * C/. Hargitt, ‘ Ibis, 1884, pp. 190, 191; and Nicholson, op. cit., 1879, 16. IN JAVA. 57 deserted from the breaking of one or more of their eggs, after incubation had progressed some way ; in others, where there was only one chick, there was often one egg which had been eracked and become dried up, so that even with all their acute architectural devices the wind appears to wreck the hopes of the little builders. What can be the use of the mud in the Weaver-birds’ nests has often been discussed. Mr. E. L. Layard, the accurate TWO FORMS OF THE NEST OF THE WEAVER BIRD. observer and well-known ornithologist, has suggested * “ that these lumps of mud were used as scrapers on which to clean the birds’ bills”; but if in the nests I found here they were used for this purpose, it must have been only at the commence- ment of their task, for the layer of mud would be quite con- cealed at an early stage of their nest-building. JI am more inclined to the belief that they are to weight and balance the nest, from having found loose among the lower stems unfinished portions, which were evidently the foundations of * Nature, Dec. 1879. 58 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS nests, which had been blown down before being properly secured, or were they, perhaps, abandoned unsuccessful first attempts? They had the exact shape of tiny key baskets, such as are used by housewives, one end being weighted with a layer of clay. I was also struck by the fact that different indi- yiduals had adopted different forms of nests, which, though agreeing fundamentally, exhibited considerable variation. The bulk of them were of the retort shape, set with a long- necked orifice hanging down- ward, but a considerable number, of the progressionist party per- haps, had inaugurated a new fashion by inverting the retort and shortening the neck, giving the doorway an upward and forward entrance, which, if more enticing to depredators, may perhaps be less awkward to the owners. I much regret that I have: no note as to the position of the clay in this new form; for what was previously the bottom of the nest had become a dome over the bird, while its eggs were laid in what would correspond in the older pattern with the upper curve of the neck of the retort, so that if my belief is correct that the use of the clay is to retain the nest in its vertical position, it ought to be found occupying a corresponding site in the new structure. It is possible, however, that the deviation from the ancestral pattern may result from an unequal distribution of clay during the laying of the foundation of the nest, causing it to become reversed without diverting the bird’s purpose from completing its work as best it could, under the altered conditions. One of the bird-cries that early attract attention is the reiterated, unvaried call of the Bell-birds (Megaleminz), poured forth in long stretches from the top of some high tree, where, from their plumage according so well with the varied colours of the vegetation, they can select a perch even in a prominent branch without fear of discovery. I obtained five different species of these birds, which belong to one of the most varied and beautiful-plumaged families, and of which some idea may be obtained by turning over the pages of Marshall’s splendid monograph of the eroup. : ABANDONED NEST-FOUNDATION. IN JAVA. 59 A stream which ran near my house was crossed by one of those native-made bamboo bridges, which spaciously housed and thatched over, have such a neat and attractive look about them. Every Sunday morning the district market was held under it, which from an early hour presented quite a gay and busy scene. I never missed, if I could, an opportunity of visiting these Passars, 2s I found them delightful resorts for studying the native in his gayer moods; for market-day was always their holiday, and the market-place the rendezvous for the youths and maidens of the district, as well as the news- exchange of the old men. The vendors, to be early at the market-place, generally spent Saturday evening and night under the shade of the bridge, or collected in the neighbouring: village, whence the tinkle of the gamelang, their characteristic musical instrument, would be heard throughout the livelong night in company, if not concord, with the higher notes ot their curiously drawling voices, repeating tjeritas or semi-historical tales, and adaptations from the Koran, varied by pantins or love songs. The collection of wares exposed for barter was always a curious one: sarongs from their own looms—whose incessant click-clack is one cf the most pleasant and characteristic of the industrial sounds in their villages—calicoes and silk kerchiefs from Manchester and Liverpool; Clark’s Paisley thread of “extra quality”; native-made horn combs, gay ornaments of spangles and beads, and the elaborate inlaid silver breast-pins for which the district is famous, worn by every female to fasten her loose upper robes ; and bamboo hats in great variety. The Bantamese are specially noted for the manufacture of these last, and some of them are really exquisite specimens of plaiting. In the finest quality, made of carefully prepared narrow strips of the wood, a quiet but lucrative trade is done with European markets by unobtrusive go-betweens who collect them through the district. In Bantam they cost a mere trifle, but in Paris, I am informed, they are retailed at a profit of nearly one thou- sand per cent., as true Panama hats, from which it is difficult to distinguish them. One of these hats, that I treated to the roughest jungle work of three years, was scarcely impaired when we parted company. Other than these the chief articles were household utensiis, 60 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS large copper jars for make palm, without which and its twin brother the bamboo, native prosperity and happiness would ecase. There were besides piles of various species of dry-salted river fishes, chiefly Gabiis (Ophiocephalus striatus), Soro and Regis (Barbus duronensis and B. emarginatus), and Guramé (Ophromenus olfax), the most prized of them all, in which a large and profitable trade is carried on with distant parts of the Archipelago. Many of these fishes are carefully preserved in the larger wet rice fields, where during the rainy season, having abundance of food, they multiply with great rapidity. During the hot season, when the sawahs have become, except in the centre, dry fields, the fishes are captured in immense numbers. Fried in fresh oil they form an excellent dish, and are the staple flesh-food of the natives. A yile odour which permeates the whole air within a wide area of the market-place, is apt to be attributed to these piles of fish ; but it really proceeds from another compound sold in round black balls, called trass’. My acquaintance with it was among my earliest experiences of house-keeping at Genteng. Having got up rather late one Sunday morning—an opportu- nity taken by one of my boys to go unknown to me to the market, which I had not then visited—I was discomfited by the terrific and unwonted odour of decomposition :—* My birds have begun to stink, confound it!” I exclaimed to myself. Hastily fetching down the box in which they were stored, I minutely examined and _ sniffed over every skin, giving myself in the process inflammation of the nostrils and eyes for a week after, from the amount of arsenical soap I inhaled; but all of them seemed in perfect condition. In the neighbouring jungle, though I diligently searched half the morning, I could find no dead carcase, and nothing in the “ kitchen-midden,”’ where somehow I seemed nearer the source ; but at last in the kitchen itself I ran it to ground in a compact parcel done up in a banana leaf. “ What on the face of creation is this?” I said to the cook, touching it gingerly. “Oh! master, that is trassi.” IN JAVA. 6] “Trassi? What is ¢rass¢, in the name of goodness !” “Good for eating, master ;—in stew.” “ Have I been eating it?” “ Certainly, master; it 1s most excellent (enak sekali).” “You born fool! Do you wish to poison me and to die yourself?” “May I have a goitre (daik gondok), master, but it 7s excel- lent!” he asseverated, taking hold of the foreskin of his throat, by the same token that a countryman at home would swear, “ As sure’s Death!” Notwithstanding these vehement assurances, I made it dis- appear in the depths of the jungle, to the horror of the boy, who looked wistfully after it, and would have fetched it back, had I not threatened him with the direst penalties if I dis- covered any such putridity in my house again. I had then to learn that in every dish, native or European, that I had eaten since my arrival in the Hast, this Extract of Decomposition was mixed as a spice, and it would have been difticult to convince myself that I would come by-and-bye knowingly to eat it daily without the slightest abhorrence. Dampier, who mentions it in his ‘ Voyage,’ seems to have formed his acquaint- ance with it in a more philosophic spirit, for he describes it in these terms :—“ As a composition of a strong savour, yet a very delightsom dish to the natives. To make it they throw a mixture of shrimps and small fish into a sort of weak pickle made with salt and water, and put into a tight earthen vessel. The pickle being thus weak, it keeps not the fish firm and hard, neither is it probably so designed, for the fish are never gutted. Therefore in a short time they turn all to a mash in the vessel ; and when they have lain thus a good while so that the fish is reduced to pulp, they then draw off the liquor into fresh jars and preserve it for use. The masht fish that remains behind is called Trassi. "Tis rank scented ; yet the taste is not altogether unpleasant, but rather savoury after one is a little used to it.” One of the most terrible scourges of the island, and for which no remedy seems possible, is the spread everywhere of a species of tall, slender cane—useless for fodder and good only for thatch, —which the natives call alang-alang. Every spot unoccupied by forest, falls a prey to it; and when once it gets the upper 62 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS hand. forest seeds refuse to root init. Neither the incessant rains, nor the driest droughts of summer kill it. The fire may sweep the surface bare, but it fails to touch the roots, which spring again in fresher vigour through the ashes. Deep shade alone seems to check its growth. The native in the hill regions does not make sawahs (which are good from year to year), but constantly takes in his fields by felling, where -he lists, in the unbroken forest. As, after reaping for only two seasons this new land, (on which he scatters his seed between the fallen trunks), he deserts it for a newer patch, broad tracts of the island are every year becoming covered with this ineradi- cable exhauster of the soil, and by-and-bye the virgin forests of this country will have entirely ceased, if some sharper supervision be not exercised by the Government over the timber-felling mania of the native. As Colonel Beddome remarks of the like devastation in India: “the value of the timber thus destroyed by one man, calculating it by the number of logs it might have yielded, is at least twenty times as great as the yalue of the crop of rage obtained in the two years that cultivation is continued. The low jungle which comes up after desertion of kumari land is more injurious to health than lofty forest open below. Besides health considerations and decrease of rain and moisture, this rude system of culture [results in] the destruction of valuable timber . . . . and rendering of land unfit for coffee.” The present vegetation of the whole of this portion of the island stands on an unbroken layer of volcanic mud, which tells of a period of almost unparalleled voleanic activity. Wherever the streams have opened sections, or a road cutting has been made, numbers of great trees, some of them. thirty yards in length, are exposed in a completely silicified condition, and often so perfectly as to have preserved to their cores the structure of their tissues. Standing on some one of these hare denuding slopes, I have tried to picture to myself the terrible outburst in which this region must have been overwhelmed, at a date which cannot geologically have been very remote ; for lying prostrate in great numbers as they were,—many of them having fallen across each other,—the forest of which they formed a part must have been suddenly entombed beneath an avalanche of the petrifying mud so deep that the powerfully IN JAVA. 65 corroding tropical rains of centuries are only now beginning to exhume them. About the only piece of exposed strata in this part of Jaya, I believe, lay within a few miles of my hut. Out of it] picked fossil fragments of vegetable stems, and of broken Ostraa and Pecten shells, closely resembling those still in the adjacent seas, and showing that an elevation of some 200 to 300 feet had taken place here at a recent period. ‘That these subterranean forces whose activity resulted in the varied physical changes which West Java has experienced (such as the subsidence of the Sunda Straits), had not ceased, was brought home to me with all the vivid and indescribable sensations that accoinpany one’s first experience of powerful and unwonted phenomena. On the 28th of March, 1879, about eight o’clock in the eyen- ing, while sitting under my verandah, a sudden shiver and a violent bumping wave passed as it were through me and under my feet, bewildering me, but affording me the ineradicable experience of a violent earthquake. For some thirty seconds my hut and all its contents were lustily shaken, but otherwise no harm was done. Some forty miles away, however, at the base of the Gedé volcano, the village of Tjanjoor was wrecked and several lives lost amid the falling houses, while on the following day volumes of smoke and ashes were emitted by the mountain whose summit formed the background of my view. One of my most interesting discoveries here was a case of mimicry in a spider, of the kind named alluring coloration by Mr. Wallace. ‘he spider itself, to which I had given the previsional name of Thomisus decipiens, has proved interesting as the type of a new genus, named Ornithcscatoides by the Rey. O. bP. Cambridge. ‘The great interest attaching to this find, however, is on account of its habits. I had been allured into a vain chase after one of those large, stately flitting butterflies (Hestia) through a thicket of prickly Pandanus horridus, to the detriment of my apparel and the loss of my temper, when on the bush that obstructed my farther pursuit I observed one of the Hesperiide at rest on a leaf on a bird's dropping. I had often observed small Blues at rest on similar spots on the ground, and have often wondered what the members of such a refined and beautifully painted family as the Lyce- nide could find to enjoy at food seemingly so incongruous for 64 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS DS I ee a butterfly. I approached with gentle steps but ready net to see if possible how the present species was engaged. It per- mitted me to get quite close and even to seize 1t between my fingers ; to my surprise, however, part of the body remained be- hind, and in adhering as I thought to the excreta, it recalled to my mind an observation of Mr. Wallace’s on certain Coleoptera falling a prey to their inexperience by boring in the bark of trees in whose exuding gum they became unwittingly entombed. I looked closely at, and finally touched with the tip of my A PIRD'S EXCRETA-MIMICKING SPIDER. ‘ finger, the excreta to find if it were glutinous. Tomy delighted astonishment I found that my eyes had been most perfectly deceived, and that the excreta was a most artfully coloured spider lying on its hack, with its feet crossed over and closely adpressed to its body. The appearance of the excreta rather recently left on a leaf by a bird or a lizard is well known. Its central and denser portion is of a pure white chalk-like colour, streaked here and there with black, and surrounded by a thin border of the dried- up more fluid part, which, as the leaf is rarely horizontal, often runs for a little way towards the margin. The spider, which belongs to a family, the Thomiside, possessing rather tubercu- IN JAVA, 65 lated, thick, and prominent abdomened bodies, is of a general white colour; the underside, which is the one exposed, is pure chalk white, while the lower portions of its first and second pair of legs and a spot on the head and on the abdomen are jet black. This species does not weave a web of the ordinary kind, but constructs on the surface of some prominent dark green leaf only an irregularly shaped film of the finest texture, drawn out towards the sloping margin of the leaf into a narrow streak, with a slightly thickened termination. The spider then takes its place on its back on the irregular patch I have described, holding itself in position by means of several strong spines on the upper sides of the thighs of its anterior pairs of legs thrust under the film, and crosses its legs over its thorax, Thus rest- ing with its white abdomen and black legs as the central and dark portions of the excreta, surrounded by its thin web-film representing the marginal watery portion become dry, even to some of it trickling off and arrested in a thickened extremity such as an evaporated drop would leave, it waits with con- fidence for its prey—a living bait so artfully contrived as to deceive a pair of human eyes even intently examining it. 66 A NATURALIST'S WANDERINGS CHAPTER II. SOJOURN AT KOSALA IN BANTAM. Leave Genteng—Native blacksmiths at Sadjira—Hot springs of Tjipanas— Birds and plants at ‘Ijipanas—Invitationto Kosala—The Kosala estate —'The curious disease Lata—The Wau-wau—Birds—Bees—White ants —Great trees—Long drought and its consequences—'l he Hemileia vas- tatrix, a fungoid blight and the buffalo disease—Flora and Fauna of Kosala Mountains —Singular living ants’ nes's and their develop- ment—Orehids at Kosala and some curious devices for securing self- fertilisation—Ancient remains in the forest—The Karangs and their curious rites—The Badui—Religion and superstitions of the people of Bantam—Leave Kosala. AFTER a very interesting period spent at Genteng, I removed further to the south in search of a station on the mountains, whose distant slopes I could see covered with the great forest which I had never yet beheld close, and under whose shade I had ever had such an intense longing to roam, the charm of whose grandeur, after spending unbroken years in it, remains still as one of the most delightful reminiscences of my residence in the tropics. Halting for a night at Sadjira I was taken by the chief of the village to see numerous blacksmiths at work in the manufacture of knives and krisses. The bellows used by them in order to give a continuous blast was made of two large cylinders of bamboo vertically set in the ground, in each of which a piston made of a dense bunch of feathers wound round a rod, was worked alternately, the wind being conducted through a small tube at the bottom of each bamboo, to meet in one pipe before passing below the fire. Pande is the Sundanese term for a worker in iron; the word is ef Sanscrit origin, and originally meant “learned.” Though this signification is not attached to it by the natives now, the smiths are held in the greatest esteem by them. Before the Hindu invasion the people of Java used only stone implements and hatchets, often of great elegance of design IN JAVA, 67 and beautifully polished and turned. Dr. Solewijn Gelpke, the director of “the cultures ” in Java, has formed at ereat cost a splendid collection of the implements of the stone age of the island, some of which I had the pleasure of examining on my way home in 1883. Of the beautiful workmanship of the early Javanese one or two fine specimens are to be seen in the ethnological collection in the British Museum. In the village of Tjipanas, in the Tjiberang valley, distant only a few miles from Sadjira, I spent a week. The village derives its name from the hot-springs (which the name signifies) that issue from the ground there at a temperature of 137° 140° F. The place is permeated with the odour of sulphur rising from the springs, which had been dug out into cisterns, round which a crowd of sufferers from long distances were constantly seated, bathing their diseased and ulcerated limbs and rheumatic joints. An abrupt hill which overshadowed the village, rising up to about 1000 feet above the sea, reminded me, in the way in which it was composed of great blocks of disrupted rock lying in all positions and at every angle one on another, of the titanie structure of the hills of Cintra to the north of Lisbon. Both probably owe their disintegrated condition to the con- stant earthquakes by which they are shaken. Growing on the thin soil on the tops of the rocks I gathered one of the most conspicuous of ground orchids, a tall white-flowered species of Calanthe, nearly all of whose flowers 1 was surprised to find had been shed without being fertilised ; while in the crevices grew luxuriant Osmundas (0. javanica) closely resembling the Royal-ferns found at home. In the young forest on its slopes I shot three interesting birds; a male and female of the Platylophus galericulatus, a crow-like bird with a handsome black crest resembling a cockatoo’s, finally settling the question that Count Salvadori was correct in asserting its Sumatran ally (P. coronatus) to be a distinct species, and not the female of the Javan bird as was supposed by Mr. Elliott; the other the Fairy Bl] ue-bird (Irene turcosa), one of the finest plumaged birds of the island, which is highly prized in Europe for plumassiers’ purposes. Its wings, throat and breast are deep velvety black, while its head ¢ back and tail are of glistening turquoise-blue, as if the colour 58 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS 65 had been enamelled on in an unbroken sheet. It was found quite solitary or in company only with its mate, and never in cks. ae was pleased to see the liveliness of the village children, who amused themselves with games very similar to those of children at our country schools at home—games of marbles played with small stones, very like what is called heap in the north of Scotland, with varieties of chevy, tig, and blind-man’s buff. : Hearing that I had come to reside in the village, a country- man, Mr. H. Lash of the Kosala estate, sent me a warm invitation to make his house in the mountains my head- quarters, which, as Tjipanas was a very unprofitable station, I was only too glad to do. Kosala was only a forenoon’s ride up through winding valleys to an elevation of 1800 feet. My gratitude can never be warmly enough expressed to this esteemed friend (now, I regret to say, no more) and his accom- plished wife, for their great hospitality and kindness; and for the assistance which for many months was afforded me by my host, both personally and through his servants and horses, in making botanical collections in the large stretch of virgin forest which he owned, specimens of whose great trees were special desiderata with me. Orchids abounded in great variety in the unopened forest, while the tree trunks that had been lying felled in the coffee gardens for some time were overrun with the species more delighting in sunshine. Being soon struck with the large number whose flowers fell without setting any fruit,—a fact that first struck me while botanising some years before in the south of EKurope,—I determined to institute a series of observa- tions on these plants, a project in which Mr. Lash—himself one of those who sedulously cultivate science in their leisure hours—entered with the greatest interest, and never wearied of personally searching for specimens, for whose rearing he put a great part of his beautiful garden ungrudgingly at my disposal. The estate house, planned by himself, was a large tiled edifice of planks not subject to the attacks of insects, elevated * few feet on piles standing on an asphalt floor, isolated by a stream of water entirely encircling the building, so that it was IN JAVA. 69 absolutely free from the tropical pest of ants. Perfectly con- structed and furnished for a tropical climate, and provided with a large and valuable library, it was admirably situated for a botanical station—the hills rising round it to three thousand feet,—whose advantages the want of the necessary instruments alone prevented me from fully utilising. In no part of the world can the climate reach greater perfection, I think, than in the mountain regions of these islands, among which I first felt the real charm of the life I had espoused. The first thing of interest to attract me, within a few hours of my arrival at Kosala, was a case in one of the servants of the house of that curious cerebral affection called by the natives lata. It is of a hysterical nature, and is contined chiefly to women, although I have also seen a man affected by it. On being startled or excited suddenly, the person becomes lata, losing the control of her will, and cannot refrain from imitating whatever she may hear or see done, and will keep calling out as long as the fit lasts the name—and generally that word alone—of whatever has flashed through her mind as the cause of it : “ He- ih-heh, matjan!” (tiger) ; “ He-ih-heh, boorung besar!” (a great bird). Her purpose will be arrested, as, if walking, she will stop short, and on going on again will often follow some other course. ‘The prefatory exclamation is an invariable symptom, seemingly caused by involuntary hysterical inspirations. According to the degree of alarm the symptoms may remain only a few moments or last for the greater part of a day, especially if the patient be prevented from calming down. The afflicted, if not very seriously affected, are not altogether incapacitated from performing the duties to which they are accustomed. The most curious characteristic of the disease is their imitation of every action they see. On one occasion, while eating a banana, I suddenly met this servant with a piece of soap in her hand; and, perceiving she was slightly lata, but without appearing to take any notice of her, I made a vigorous bite at the fruit in passing her, an action she instantly repeated on the piece of soap. On another occasion, while she was looking on as I placed some plants in drying paper, not knowing that caterpillars were objects of supreme abhorrence to the natives, I flicked off in a humorous way on to her dress one that happened to be on a leat; she was 70 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS instantly intensely data, and, throwing off all her clothing, she made off like a chased deer along the mountain road, repeating the word for caterpillar as she ran, until compelled by exhaustion to stop, when the spasm gradually left her. . My own “boy.” who would unconcernedly seize all sorts of snakes in his hands, became one day Jata also, on suddenly touching a large caterpillar. My host’s maid once, while alone at some distance from the house, having come unexpectedly on a large. lizard—the Baiawak—was seized by a paroxysm; dropping down on her hands and knees to imitate the reptile, she thus followed it through mud, water and mire to the tree in which it took refuge, where she was arrested and came to herself. Another case which came under my knowledge was more tragic in its results. This woman, startled by treading in a field on one of the most venomous snakes in Java, became so lata that she vibrated her finger in imitation of the tongue of the reptile in front of its head, till the irritated snake struck her; and the poor creature died within an hour. During the attack the eyes have a slightly unnatural stare, but there is never a total loss of consciousness, and throughout the paroxysm the patient is wishful to get away from the object affecting her, yet is without the strength of will to escape or to cease acting in the way I have described... Lata persons are constantly teased by their fellows, and are often kept in an excited state for whole days. In the early mornings here, I was at first constantly awakened by the loud plaintive wailings of a colony of Wau-waus, one of the Gibbons (Hyalobates leuciscus) from the neighbouring forest, as they came down to the stream to drink. On first hearing their cried one can scarcely believe that they do not proceed from a band of uproarious and shouting children. Their “ Weo- o0o-ut———-woo-ut Woo-00-ut wut-wut-wut wutwut- wut,” always more wailing on a dull, heavy morning previous to rain, was just such as one might expect from the sorrowful countenance that is characteristic of this group of the Quad- rumana. ‘l'hey haye a wonderfully human look in their eyes ; and it was with great distress that I witnessed the death of the only one I ever shot. Falling on its back with a thud on the ground, it raised itself on its elbows, passed its long taper fingers oyer the wound, gave a woful look at them, and fell IN JAVA. 71 back at full length dead—* saperti orang” (just like a man), as my boy remarked. A livespecimen brought to me by a native, I kept.in captivity for a short time, and it became one of the most gentle and engaging creatures possible; but when the calling of its free mates reached its prison-house, it used to place its ear close to the bars of its cage and listen with such intense and eager wistfulness that I could not bear to confine it longer, and had it set free on the margin of its old forest home. Strange to say, its former companions, perceiving perhaps the odour of captivity about it, seemed to distrust its respectability, and refused to allow it to mingle with them. I hope that amid the free woods this taint was soon lost, and that it recovered its pristine happiness. The habits of the Wau-wau closely resemble those of the Siamang of Sumatra. Large stretches of the forest in the immediate neighbourhood of the house were planted in coffee gardens, cultivated not as in Ceylon in the open sun, but under moderate shade chiefly of the Erythrina indica, in patches cleared out of the forest some distance isolated from each other so as to prevent the spread, if possible, of any outbreak of the coffee disease (Hemzleia), and to give each garden a chance of escape. Seen from the heights above, these parterres scarlet with erythrina flowers, had a very brilliant effect on the landscape. In the newer gardens many of the felled trees still lay rotting, and there insects and birds were in abundance ; but Java has been so well collected over by excellent entomologists and naturalists for so long a period that few novelties could be expected. Nevertheless, in all departments, species of interest were constantly falling under my notice for the first time. I used to place a lamp close to my open window, in hope of attracting moths; but, while very unsuccessful in this respect, I had frequent visits from the smaller sorts of bats, which, on my slamming the window to, were, though safely trapped, not ensnared within the folds of my butterfly net without a deal of clever dodging on their part, and of noisy disturbance of fur- niture on mine. Of these one was a very rare species, Coelops frithii, and another has been described as new to science by Mx. Oldfield Thomas, under the name of Kerivoula javana, a form intermediate between the Philippine and New Guinean types. For many months after my arrival the earliest hours of the 72 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Be SS iu) re morning were always resonant with the rich deep notes of the Tjiung or Béo, as the Javancse Grackle (Gracula jawvenensis) As named. They used to frequent a papaya-tree which grew just outside my window, whose fruit they are extremely fond of, whence they poured forth their song in the intervals of feed- ing. This bird, which is of a rich metallic blue-black plumage, has the nape of the neck adorned with two deep orange lappets, and is greatly prized as a pet by the natives, from its deep and yentriloquistic voice, its wonderful aptitude in learning to speak and whistle, and for itscomical ways. A very high price is often given for a well-trained bird, even by the natives. The Grackle is somewhat difficult to rear at first, but when once accustomed to confinement it thrives well—I have seen one which had been caged for nearly eighteen years—especially if a bamboo cylinder be placed in the cage for it to creep into at night, as, when in freedom, it does into a hole in a tree. Pink-headed doves (Ptilopus porphyreus) fed in flocks on the figs; and at 3000 feet I stumbled on a nestful of six fledg- lings of Pomatorhinus montanus, which were being tended, I was surprised to observe, by three parents; but I was unable to satisfy myself positively whether the additional parent was male or female; my boy, however, who on most subjects was well informed, said that “the female ‘ Patjingpayor’ has always two husbands.” No insect sooner attracts the observation of the new comer than the destructive carpenter bees, Xylocopa, which with noisy ostentation are incessantly boring their wide tunnels into the woodwork of every building. To sit watching their entrance, and clay each up in a living tomb of its own digging, was one of the most hilarious amusements of the boys. Many other species of Hymenoptera attract atten- tion by their curious persistence in building mud-cells from every hanging thread, in locks and hollow tubes, and in every unoccupied corner, stocking them with the caterpillars and spiders which is all the store their parental feelings induce them to lay up for the benefit of their progeny. Jn the forest the resemblance of their domiciles to their surroundings makes them less easy to discover; but the accompanying figure of a nest of one of the Eumenide (Zethus cyanopterus) shows how artistic and ingenious some of these creatures are. IN JAVA, "13 A colony of these bees had covered the stems of a species of Asclepias, overgrowing the face of a high cliff; and it took a sharp eye to distinguish their nests from clusters of the withered leaves of the climber. Composed of chips of leaves glued together, they were protected from the rain by a projecting roof, which for the purpose of concealment was cunningly shaped like the foliage of the plant itself. There NEST OF THE ZETHUS CYANOPTERTS, was quite a crowd of them, and as they circled about, their dark wings flashing in the sun as they darted out and into their nests, they reminded me of swallows about a church window. Less obtrusive, more destructive, but full of interest, are the operations of the various colonies of termites or White-ants. It is impossible to observe the habits of those that bore in the 74 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS interior of planks and trees ; but by the species, that build large excrescences on the tree-trunks, one must admire the specially happy way in which has been settled the difficult question of. how to keep their thoroughfares clean and unobstructed, and with the least trouble dispose of the refuse of so large a colony. It is worth while to break down a portion of their tough walls, to watch for half an hour the outrush of the city guards with their pikelhaube heads, who with elevated antenne sniff round everywhere for the cause of alarm, charging about frantically, nodding and beating their spiked frontlets against the walls in a most threatening way, till they think the danger past, when they retire and order out hordes of builders to repair the breaches, who, distinguished at once by the absence of a frontal spike, have till then kept away from the scene. After a general survey of the ruins, each worker retires to fetch a small squarish chip, carefully examines the exact place into which it is to be built, then applying to that spot the tip of its abdomen, it excretes a drop of a pale glutinous sub- stance, places in it the chip, and hammers it down by the combined application of its maxilla and antenne. While the building is going on acompany of soldiers stalk about the walls guarding the workers, every now and then tapping their heads with the conscious air of a constable reminding them that his presence is their safety. Thus block after block with amazing rapidity is cemented together, and the sewage of the colony is piled into the odourless homogeneous walls of their dwelling. I was astonished one day in making a sweep through a swarm, as I thought of bees, which was buzzing overhead, to find that it was composed of flies called by the natives Papan- tong, a species nearly related to our common Blue-bottle. Above the coffee gardens the heights, up to 4000 feet, were clothed with virgin forest, full of noble giants of the woods. In the gardens many of the finest of these trees had been allowed to stand, where they exhibited all the stateliness and grandeur of stem and crown which can be fully appreciated only when surveyed at some distance off. Prominent for their straight and shapely pillar-like stems stand out the Lakka (Myristica iners), the Rasamala (Liquidambar altingiana), and , the white-stemmed Kajeput trees (Melaleuca leweadendron), all of them rising with imposing columns, without a branch often IN JAVA, iis for 80 end sometimes 100 feet. Of the other stately trees here, I noticed the Mangosteen (Garcinia mangostana) and the Vernonia javanica, a member of a family, the Composite, that in our own country never attains any importance greater than that of a moderate herb. The season, however, was a very unfortunate one for enlarging my herbarium. Little over ten per cent, of all the forest trees in 1879 produced either flower or fruit. During 1877 a great scarcity of rain prevailed, while in 1878 almost an unbroken drought existed during the East-monsoon. The parched sur- face of the ground broke up into ravine-like cracks, which, ex- tending from four to five feet in depth and two to three in breadth, destroyed great numbers of the forest-trees by en- circling and snapping off their roots. Shrubs and small trees in exposed places were simply burned up in broad patches. Flowering was almost entirely suspended—so much so that the wild bees could produce no honey, which in ordinary years is one of the very abundant products of the forests. Crops of all kinds failed, while devastating fires, whose origin could seldom be traced, were so frequent in the forest and in the great alang- alang fields, that the population lived in constant fear of their villages and even of their lives and stock. It was in vain that the natives, following their superstitious rites, carried their cats in procession, to the sound of gongs and the clattering of rice blocks, to the nearest streams to bathe and sprinkle them; the rain after such a ceremony ought to have come, but it did not. The Batavia Handelsblad states the loss in Java, consequent on the drought ot 1878, to have been on coffee, ten millions of guilders; on sugar, seven; on tobacco, five ; and on rice fifteen—equal in all to a loss in English money of £3,000,000. The West-monsoon (November to March) of 1878-9, memorable for its excessive rain, was followed by an abnormally wet and sunless dry season, which was almost as disastrous for the cultures of the island as its predecessors had been from drought. The coffee-trees produced abundance of flowers, but as scarcely a bee was to be seen anywhere, very few of these became fertilised or produced berries—so easily is the balance of nature disturbed. Later in the season, however, the coffee shrubs produced a secend show of flowers, which in a multitude 76 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS of cases did not proceed further than knobbed buds, the bulk of which I found, by marking and carefully examining them every day, produced fruit without expanding their petals, or, to. use the scientific term, cleistogamously. Marching in company with these disastrous seasons came the terrible epidemic among the buffaloes (the natives stay in the cultivation of their fields, and the main part of their riches), which had not disappeared in the middle of 1883, being less violent only from paucity of victims. The plague was nearly coincident with the blight—fortunately net of a yery seyere nature—of the Hemileca vastatriz in the coffee cardens. It is a remarkable fact that the buffalo disease and the Hemileia appeared without, as far as can be traced, extraneous contagion, on the western coasts of Sumatra (happily for that island in a slight degree only), and on the extreme west of Java, whence it vaulted in most eccentric rjot throughout the whole island. Not only was the coffee blighted, but the grass meadows and the forest trees also were so covered, especially in places with a westerly exposure, with a fungoid disease as to become a subject of native remark. One could not help suspecting that these noxious germs had been brought by the winds, and that perhaps even the plague in the herds had resulted from the blighted grass.on which they fed. The correctness of this view seems to some slight degree corroborated by the information I subsequently obtained from natives and others in various parts of the Archipelago. In Sumatra, not only the buffaloes suffered, but the elephants, the deer and the wild pigs died in the forest in immense numbers, and, by preying on the dying herds, even the tigers fell victims to the stalking pestilence. In Timor also, in the higher parts of the interior of the island, the cattle were attacked, while in the southern plains the pigs and the horses, which there run wild in herds, were found scattered about in the forest dead. Closely following the bad years and the bovine pestilence, which deprived them of the means of cultivating their lands, came a scarcity bordering on famine and a fever epidemic of a virulent kind, to which the natives succumbed in thousands. The tale of the woes of their province must surely have seemed to them full and running over when the volcanic wave IN JAVA. 17 from the eruption of Krakatoa, in 1883, overwhelmed its sea- board and washed so many of their fellows to destruction. Notwithstanding the bad season, by hunting far and wide my herbarium grew slowly in bulk, for, though the great trees were in a very destitute condition, herbaceous plants were abundant, and not a few of the smaller shrubs and trees had begun to recover somewhat. Among the most attractive shrubs were the species of figs, of which there was an endless variety. The whole group of the Artocarpee is remarkable for beauty of foliage and fruit—as the hollow receptacle in which their minute flowers and true fruits are developed is often popularly called—for their striking habit and for their useful products. Some of them, as the india-rubber producing waringins and kawats species of Urostigma (U. microcarpum, and consociatum), are among the giants of the vegetable world, and its most relentless parasites and tyrants. Brought by “some wandering bird or fruit-eating quadruped to the cleft of a high tree, the seed germinating drops down all reund its host long tendril-like roots, which in a few seasons become indissoluble bonds that interlace, grow together, and close up the tree-stem that gave it its support, till its life is choked out, and only here and there, before it finally disappears, can it be seen through latticed apertures, like an Inquisition martyr built into the wall. The young kawat grows, shoots upward its top and “spreads her arms, Branching so broad and long, that on the ground The bended twigs take root; and daughters grow About the mother-tree, a pillared shade.” Less stately but not less beautiful are the shrub forms, the species of Hamplas (Ficus microcarpa, amplas, and politoria) whose rough leaves nrovide the natives with ready-made sand- paper; the Ficus cordifolia, the Amismata (Ficus aspera), and the Kihedjo—a bushy shrub, whose fruit, always in profusion along its branches, is when ripe of a rich purple hue, and unripe of the brightest vermilion or carmine colour, in brilliant contrast to its dark foliage; while the semi- parasitic climbing Ficus radicans delights to cling to the tallest trees of the forest. Its fruit, which is as large as an orange, is put forth throughout the whole extent of its stem in a 78 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS eee profuse abundance, massed in clusters in every stage of growth ; and as these in their passage to maturity assume all the diffe- rent brilliant hues. by which rich orange changes into the sombre shades of purple, the effect against the background of the tree-stem and of its own singularly chaste foliage is strik- ing in the extreme, and is one of these objects that the eye can meet every day with renewed pleasure. The hizhest mountain in this neighbourhood attains an elevation of nearly 5000 feet, and for the last 500 yards of its ascent presented many interesting features. In producing plants rarely found at so low an elevation on higher moun- tains, the Jayan flora on the pure volcanic clay differs from that where the soil is more overlaid with forest humus. Two ferns, a species of Gleichenia and the broad-fronded Dipteris horsfieldi—here at its lowest altitudinal limit—pro- fusely covered the ground; and, as if stretching their utmost towards the heights where they naturally grow, rhododendrons and a beautiful creeping species of Lricacex (Gaultheria repens) clothed the tops of the tallest trees. The lemon-scented laurel (Tetranthera citrata), whose leaves and fruit give out a sweet odour that can be detected a long way off, grew in clumps; and its fruits, a favourite food of the Bulbuls and the Bell-birds, retain their perfume even after they have been dropped by these birds. At the summit pitcher-plants (Nepenthes phyllamphora) appeared in profusion, climbing up the trees and running oyer the ground among the moss, out of which peeped the delicate bright star-like flowers of the Agrcstemma montanum, which always reminded me of the pretty Huropean Chickweed Winter-green (Trientalis europea) of our northern woods. Un one of the lower knolls I found perhaps the most in- teresting plant in my Javan collection, a species of Petrea (P. arborea), growing entirely wild in the forest. This genus, belonging to the family of the Verbenacex, is almost entirely confined to the South American continent; and it is of extreme interest to find it, in this inexplicable way, cropping up in a region so far removed from the centre of its distribu- tion. A species from the island of Timor occurs, without history, in the collection in the British Museum made by Mr. Robert Brown; but these are the only two examples, so , TRANSVERSE SECTION OF THE STEM OF Myrimecodia tuberosa. ‘ IN JAVA. p 79 far as I am aware, hitherto collected uncultivated in the Old World. The 14th of June is to me memorable as being the day on which for the first time I saw in its native habitat, and gathered there, that most singular of the vegetable productions of the Indian Archipelago, the Myrmecodia tuberosa and Hydivophytum fornicarum. ‘Their most striking characteristic will be indelibly marked in my remembrance by the sen- sations other than mental, by which their acquaintance was made. In tearing down a galaxy of epiphytic orchids from an erythrina tree, I was totally overrun, during the short momen- tary contact of my hand with the bunch, with myriads of a minute species of ant (Phezdole javana), whose every bite was a sting of fire. Beating a precipitous retreat from the spot, I stripped with the haste of desperation, but, like pepper-dust over me, they were writhing and twisting their envenomed jaws in my skin, each little abdomen spitefully quivering with every thrust it made. Going back, when once I had rid myself of my tormentors, to secure the specimens I had gathered, I discovered in the centre of the bunch a singular plant I had never seen before, which I perceived to be the central attraction of the ants. It was called Kitang-kurak by my boy, who said it was the home of the ants. I was over- joyed with the revelation that a slice struck off by my knife, made of an intricate honeycombed structure swarming with minute ants—a living formicarium. In the space of a short search I found, generally high on the trees, abundance of specimens of both genera, which, not without several futile attempts and many imprecations and eroanings on the part of my boys, were brought to the ground ; and, at the ends of a pole over their shoulders, up which the infuriated dwellers would ascend to spread over their bare bodies to their frequent discomfiture, they were at last safely deposited in a spot in Mr. Lash’s garden, where I could examine them with comfort without disturbing their inhabi- tants. The accompanying representation (page 89) represents the general appearance of the epiphyte: a spine-covered bulb surmounted by a cylindrical axis bearing leaves and minute 80 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS flowers, while the longitudiual section on the opposite page shows the complicate system of galleries—some of them papillated—inhabited by the ants. ik Observing the ants often employed in carrying out whitish particles, I at first conjectured that the irritation of their digging out a dwelling must have induced the swelling of the bulb; and, curious to see the modus operandi of its commence- ment, I decided to raise a few of them from seed. This turned my attention to their flowers and fruit. The flowers are pro- duced in deep spine-protected pits on the axis surmounting YOUNG PLANT OF MYRMECODIA TUBEROSA. the bulb, and are remarkable for the extreme rapidity with which the cycle of their functional changes are performed. The pellucid white flower appears, and is followed by an orange, watery fruit, whose seeds ripen and often germinate in the little pits where they grow, all within the space of thirty- six hours. Some years later Dr. Burck, of the Buitenzorg Gardens, most kindly showed me specimens and microscopic slides illustrating some interesting observations * he had made on these flowers : that the corolla segments rarely open (though a slight touch * These have since been published in the ‘ Annales du Jardin Botanique du Buitenzorg,’ vol. iv., p. 16. ‘ IN JAVA. 81 ean effect it); that the pollen grains exsert their pollen tubes while still in the anthers; and that both the external and the internal surfaces of the lobes of the pistil are covered with papille, indicating that these surfaces are functionally active. I bave never observed these flowers approached by the ants that infest the interior, nor by any other insect, which to gain admission to the flower, even if open, must be very small indeed. The anthers and the pistil do not seem to reach maturity together, yet it would seem that self-fertilisation alone can take place; perhaps the tubes of the pollen grains which fall to the bottom of the corolla manage to reach the lower lobes of the pistil and produce fecundation. The seeds I planted germinated with great freedom, and I cultivated quite anumber of young Myrmecodia, whose growth I watched with the greatest interest. Many of them I kept quite isolated from the interference not only of the Pheidole javana, which seems to be the only species of ant which lives in these plants in their native state, but of all other species, and I was surprised to find that from their very earliest appearance this curious galleried structure arose without the presence of the ants, and that the plants continued to grow and thrive vigo- rously in their absence as long as I cultivated them. Some bulbs had a single canal reaching to their centre from a round orifice opening generally close to the little tap-root ; others presented one or two loculi in the interior, without any communication at first with the exterior, partially full of a spongy substance look- ing like its own degenerated tissue. These chambers invariably developed a spongy pith—which in a section it was not diffi- cult to trace out in advance in the still fleshy substance—towards and to open at last at one or more spots on the exterior of ae one the bulb. Secondary galleries, arising in OLDER ONE. the same manner as the primary, soon formed communicating channels, extending with age, throughout the whole of the growing bulb. At a later period, in Amboina, where the Myrmecodia and the Hydnophytum were very abundant, I found many specimens containing a large central and quite isolated chamber full of water—not rain-water—round which Z hi zd $2 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS radiated the galleries tenanted by ants and their larvae of the same species as in Java. Since my original observations, Dr. Melchior Treub, Director of the Botanic Gardens in Buitenzorg, has-conducted and pub-. lished * a series of important researches into the development of these bizarre plants, which have confirmed generally the observations I had made, and have proved besides that what I haye called degeneration is the result of a transformation into cork of the tissue of the plant; which, becoming entirely dried up, gradually extends the galleries towards the exterior, when the fluffy mass disappears or is carried out by the ants. Notwithstanding these researches it remains still a mystery- what causes the development of these corky cells, what advan- tage the plant derives from its unusual structure, and what is the mutual benefit of this close relation between insect and plant. That the ants should so persistently infest and yet derive no advantage beyond accommodation from the plant, seems unlikely; it is probable however that the papille in the galleries, whose function is still an enigma, may afford some nourishment to them, but that the insects are not absolutely indispensable to the perfect performance of the functions of the plant is certain from Dr. Treub’s observations. He suggests that they perhaps ward off enemies from the plant, or that they may remove, for their own nourishment, injuricus excretions from the papilla of these channels whose office may be to distribute air through the fleshy mass of the bulb. Altogether these Myrmecodia are among the most singular of vegetable pro- ductions, showing us how much we have yet to learn of the intricate processes of nature. I gathered here another interesting specimen in some leaves of the Bryophyllum calycinum. As is well known, the marginal notches of the leaves of this plant, when laid on the ground or ina damp place, produce buds which develop into new plants. In the leaves I gathered here, however, complete flowers and fruit were produced directly from the notches. While botanising in Portugal, in the spring of 1877, I was remarkably struck by the number of orchids I gathered that * In the ‘ Annales,’ sup. cit., vol. iii., pp. 180-157, from which the accom- panying figures here reproduced are taken. t Nature, vol. xvi. p. 102. ’ IN JAVA. 83 seemed never to have had an effective visit paid them by any of the crowd of bees, butterflies, and beetles, among which they blossomed. They were mostly terrestrial species, ophrys chiefly, and were some of them handsome, and very sweetly scented ; yet'they might as well have wasted their sweetness on the desert air, for scarcely any of them ever lost their pollen masses, or had these fertilising grains applied to their own stigmas. Since then I have carefully examined all orchids that I have encountered, and have been surprised at the immense numbers which—possessing brilliant, small, and not seldom even large flowers, often highly perfumed—never or very rarely produce seed capsules, but which blossom and fall without benefiting in any way their race. At Kosala I was able to continue my observations both on those growing naturally in the forest as well as on those I reared in Mr. Lash’s garden, where, after once taking to the trees they were as nearly as possible under natural conditions. The Cymbidium tricolor produces flower-spikes often attaining a length of nearly four feet, studded with florets which are rather sombre in colour; yet it could scarcely be passed without attracting admiration. Of the florets of several plants I counted, seventy- nine yer cent. had their pollinia intact, after, to all appearance, having been exposed for a long time, and of those that had lost their pollinia not one stigmatic surface had pollen grains applied to it. On another occasion the whole of the florets examined were unvisited ; while on a third occasion eighty- nine per cent. of the florets examined had their pollinia safe in the anthers, nine per cent. being damaged, either having lost their labellum or having the column eaten by the larve of a species of Coccinellide. One alone was fructified. I gathered the rather rare Cymbidium stapelioides, growing at a height of 2600 feet above the sea, flowering on a fallen tree. I brought it home, 1000 feet lower, and fixed it to a tree- stem, to which it at once took kindly. None of the flowers which were expanded when I found it were fertilised; but one of the bulbs had a stem with a solitary capsule. For three weeks the plant remained in the condition in which I found it, its large and handsome, though somewhat dull-coloured, flowers retaining their perfect freshness during all this eriod. I then took compassion on its barren state, and fertilised from 84 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS their neighbours four of its florets. These alone of the sixteen flowers bore fruit. A couple of months later a fine new spike appeared, which I left to its own resources. For between four and five weeks it exhibited a very fine tross of twelve flowers ; but not one seed-capsule was produced. ‘The insect life at the lower station seemed quite as abundant as at the higher. This orchid possesses no nectary, and its odour, if not pleasant, is not disagreeable. The viscid disk of its pollinia is remarkable for its elasticity. After removing a pollen mass from the anther, I applied it to the stigma of another floret, and on withdrawing the pencil to which it was ad- hering, it sprang back with an audible snap, the viscid disk stretching quite one-eighth of an inch, without leaving pollen on the stigma, for the floret did not set a capsule. The same result followed after allowing the pollen to remain for some seconds in contact with the stigmatic surface. After the lapse of a week the viscid disk still retained its elasticity unimpaired, so much so that I was able to extend it as often as ten times for yarious distances up to nearly one-fifth of an inch before the connection gave way—a sharp snap always accompanying its relaxation. One of the prettiest and commonest orchids here was a pure white Dendrobium (D. crumenatum), which suddenly appears in flower on all the trees of a district nearly on the same day. I have examined many hundreds of flowers, and I am quite sure, though I have not kept very accurate statistics of the numbers, that not one in eighty ever sets a seed capsule. Growing terrestrially in abundance in damp shady situa- tions is another group of this family belonging to the genus Calanthe. Calanthe veratrifolia produces quite a dense head of elegant white flowers, but the number of those that become fertilised are in enormous disproportion to those that fall off barren. I have examined plants in numerous localities, in heights amid the deuse forest, as well as in more open situations; I have studied them low down, both in the sun and in the deep shade, but have invariably found that a very small proportion produces fruit. Generally the pollinia are found in the anther after the fall of the flower; but often they are absent, without any pollen being left in return on the stigma. In five different plants, out of 860 florets examined, IN. FAVA. 85 109 were withering with intact anthers, or had lost their pol- len and were unfertilised, 245 had fallen off, six only had produced capsules. These are not selected instances, but the result of the examination. of five plants as they occur in my note-book. I have several times found in various species of Calanthe, specimens which at first I thought to be cleisto- gamously fertilised, where the ovules were enlarged in the evary, and the flowers quite open; but close examination has shown that this is the effect of the irritation of a small species of Hymenoptera—-a cynips probably. Mr. Darwin, in his ‘Fertilisation of Orchids,’ enumerates but four instances of self-fertilisation as coming under his observation, namely :.in Ophrys apifera, by the falling forward of its own pollinia, which are then, by the agency of the wind, brought into contact with the stigma—the plant being capable also of cross fertilisation ; in Peristylis viridis, which is pos- sible to be self-fertilised by its own pollen from the head of the visiting insect; in Cephalanthera grandiflora, which is perpetually self-fertilised by its pollen grains that rest against the upper sharp edge of the stigma thrusting down their pollen tubes into the ovary ; lastly, Dendrobium chrysanthum, which may possibly be self-fertilised by its own peculiar acro- batic pollen. In the additional instances here given, some will be found to be singular and different, I believe, from any hitherto recorded.* The genus Phajus is an exceedingly handsome and attrac. tive coterie of orchids growing in open and sunny, places, throwing up from their large broad root leaves, stout erect flower-stalks, one and a-half to two feet in height, crowded with florets. The expanded sepals of Phajus DBlumet mea- sure laterally from tip to tip twelve to fourteen centimetres. Their external margins are white and interiorly rich chest- nut brown; the labellum is of a beautiful bright purple magenta colour, margined with yellowish white. Its fringed mouth forms a broad landing-stage for passing insects, for whose benefit brightly coloured ridges point the way in vain to the nectary, as, unfortunately for the visitor, it rarely con- * From here to the top of page 96 may be passed over by the general reader not interested in this subject made so fascinating by the studies cf Mr, Darwin given in the volume referred to above. 86 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS tains any nectar. The column, embraced by the labellum, is massive, expanding into a stigma eleven millimetres broad, secreting an abundance of viscid matter, crowned with the anther and its pollen, whose candicles, composed of pollen FIG. 1.—PHaJUS BLUMEI, SHOWING AN- FIG. 2.—PHAJUS BLUMEI, SHOWING THE THER WITH POLLINIA REMOVED; POLLINIA AVALANCHED DOWN- C, STIGMA; F, BASE OF ANTHER; WARDS, CARRYING WITH THEM THE G, ROSTELLUM. ROSTELLUM, G; A, ANTHER-CAP; B, [The following jfiqures are all slightly SWOLLEN POLLINIA; CG, STIGMA; diagrammatic. ] E, TIP OF CAUDICLES OF POLLINIA. grains, protrude their tips from beneath the anther-cap. I exa- mined more than one hundred and fifty flowers of P. Blumei, but I did not find one that was not, or could be otherwise than, self-fertilised. Its essential organs exist in two forms, slightly but interestingly different. FIG. 3.—BUD OF PHAJUS BLUMEI, SHOW- ‘FIG. 4.—LONGITUDINAL SECTION OF ING POLLINIA IN ERECT POSITION; COLUMN OF PHAJUS BLUMEI (SIDE A, ANTHER-CAP ; B, POLLINIA; C, VIEW); A, R, C, D, AS IN RIG. 35 STIGMA; D, MEDIAN RIDGE. I, BOUNDARY OF STIGMA. Flowers of the first form have, arching over the deep and covered stigma, a well-developed tongue-shaped projection or rostellum, on which lie the caudicles of the pollinia, which have no viscid disk (Fig. 1). On each side, the rostellum leaves between itself and the external walls of the column a IN JAVA, 87 narrow channel. by which the viscid matter of the stigma reaches the anther. In examining an advanced bud, the viscid matter of the stigma is seen to be in large quantity and rather liquid. It increases with the growth of the flower till it overflows,—often before the bud opens—and, immediately on its opening, inundates the pollinia, which now increase in size, and either avalanche downwards, sometimes quite obliterating the rostellum (Fig. 2, p. 86); or, while retaining their position in the anther, emit their tubes over the narrower portion of the rostellum into the stylary canal. Very often both anther and stigma become quite filled up by the multitude of pollen- tubes and by the swollen pollinia. AI1 these plants produced large and well-filled seed-capsules on every flower; but I FIG. 5.—PHAJUS BLUMEI, SHOWING THE FIG. 6.—1HAJUS BLUMEI, SHOWING A ANTHER ROTATED LOWNWARDS ; A, MORE ADVANCED STAGE THAN FIG. 5; C, AS IN FIG. 3, THE ANTHER-CAP A, HAS OPENED; B, SWOLLEN POLLINIA; C, E, AS IN Fic. 2; K, TIP OF ANTHER-CAP. , never saw an insect visit the plants during all my observations, although the plants were situated where I could inspect them constantly throughout the day or meght. Of flowers of the second form, I examined many more examples. Here there is no rostellum, nevertheless the boundaries of the stigma are quite distinct (Figs. 3. 4, p. 86). On examining a young bud, the anther (enclosing the pollinia) is seen standing verticaily erect on the top of the column—i.e. of the detached column, without reference to its position in the flower—forming as it were a pointed extension of it, and attached to it by its minute filament. As the flower progresses in growth, the anther- cap ruptures and rotates forward. When it has descended through about 90°, it occupies (Fig. 5) the position which, if it possessed a rostellum, it would naturally retain; but, having 88 A NATURALIST’S. WANDERINGS none, it continues to rotate through about 70° more, till it comes into contact with the face of the column, that is with the stigmatic cavity, which is very large, broad and full of viscid matter (Fig. 6). ‘Lhe whole surface of the lower four pollinia come into contact with the viscid matter and sink well into it, while the viscid matter finds its way gradually about all of the pollinia. The inner members of the upper row of pollinia sometimes escape this inundation, but it seems of little avail to the plant for its cross-fertilisation, for they remain throughout eovered by the anther-cap. The tips of the caudicles, how- ever, remain in most cases unaffected throughout, but I have found it difficult to remove any of their pollen grains. The inundated pollinia have no obstacles to bar the way of their tubes to the ovary. On clearing out with a blunt instrument F G. 7.—PHAJUS BLUMET, SAME AS FIG. 6, FiG. 8.—PHAJUS BLUMET, SHOWING EXTRA WITH ANTHER-CAP MERELY DOTTED ANTHER, H; A, B, C, AS IN PREVIOUS IN ; A, B,C, AS IN PREVIOUS FIGURES. FIGURES. the swollen pollinia from the stigma, it can be seen that from nearly the top of the column, along the posterior median line, a prominent ridge (Fig. 3, p. 86) runs down almost to the ovarium. In the light afforded by the dissection of an Arundina speciosa (to be mentioned below) this would appear to represent the absent rostellum. Large seed-capsules were produced by every flower of this form. This Phajus is also remarkable for pro- ducing, at times two, supernumerary anthers on the top of the column one on each side of the normal anthers (Fig. 8). Here then we have an orchid whose flowers present every attraction to insects to pay at least a first visit (when they would find no nectar), all of them gay, with a nectary, and a beautifully painted and finger-posted labellum, yet ‘rarely possible to be anything but self-fertilised. IN JAVA. 89 Ihave examined other species of the genus, and found them to be fertilised in almost identically the same manner. A not uncommon orchid by the sides of second-growth forest or banks of streams over all the Archipelago, is the FiG. 9.—SPATHOGLOTTIS PLICATA (FRONT ~—FIG. 10,—SPATHOGLOTTIS PLICATA (SIDE VIEW); A, ANTHER-CAP; B, POLLINIA; VIEW), WHEN ANTHER HAS ROTATED C, CAUDICLES OF POLLINIA; D, DOWNWARDS; A, C, E, F, G, AS IN STIGMA ; E, FRONT OF COLUMN; F, FIG. 9; H, ROSTELLUM. TIP OF ANTHER-CAP; G, FLAP OF MARGIN OF STIGMA. white or purple terrestrial orchid Spathoglottis plicata, B1., whose method of fertilisation differs from that of the Phajus. Its pollinia le in a rather deep anther, which runs out into a Fr:G. 11. — sPATHOGLOTTIS PLICATA, FIG. 12.—SPATHOGLOTTIS PLICATA. LONGITUDINAL SECTION (SIDE VIEW); (FRONT VIEW), WITH THE ANTHER AS Cs) EY ES) 5 AS IN PREVIOUS ROTATED DOWN OVER THE STIGMA; FIGURE; B, POLLINIA. [DIAGRAM- LETTERS SAME AS IN PREVIOUS MATIC. | FIGURES. long sharp triangular rostellum far overarching the stigma (Figs. 10,11). The pollinia-caudicles, composed of pollen grains, protrude from below the anther case and lie on the rostellum, projecting a little beyond its tip, as seen in the lateral view of 90 A NATURALIST’S .WANDERINGS the longitudinal section, Fig. 10. The stigma is triangular, with its apex downwards. here is no nectary. ‘The stigmatic substance becomes viscid even in the young bud; and as soon as the anther has rotated into its normal position, it begins to increase in quantity—the increase is often so great that it bulges out in front of the rim of the stigma—and, swelling up, flows over into the anther by the canals (seen in Fig. 15), between the column and the edge of the rostellum. Hvyen before the opening of the flower I have found the external rig, 18,—spatnoctorms Pollen masses on each side bathed with PLICATA SAME ASFIG.12, the stigmatic fluid, and already exserting REMOVED: B,C, «, asin. their tubes... These descend by the grooves Fig. 12, I have mentioned on both sides to the stylary canal. Concomitant with the flood- ing of the anther there has been taking place a slow approxi- mation of the under side of tke rostellum to the lower lip of the stigma, till its lobes finally embrace the rostellum, bind- ing down the whole anther (Figs. 10, 12), so that when the FIG. L4.—sPATHOGLOTTIS PLICATA (FROST FG. VIEW) DIAGRAMMATIC, SHOWING ROUTE TO THE STYLARY CANAL TAKEN BY POLLEN TUBES, B?; A, B, ©, F, AS IN FIG. 10. 15.—sPATHOGLOTTIS PLIGATA; 1HE APEX OF THE COLUMN, WITH THE POLLINIA REMOVED ; SHOWING THE MARGINAL CANALS BETWEEN THE COLUMN-WALL AND THE FLOOR, I, OF THE ANTHER; H, THE ROSTELLUM. a0 - onl) ieeayay ose Be c . . act of fertilisation has been completed the stigma is almost obliterated, leaving no room for any foreign pollen to be Held : its surface. The direction taken by the pollen tubes is show1 hat diagr i in Fi pie n_somen hat diagrammatically in Fig. 14. The poen grains of the caudicles of the pollinia remain as a rule unaffected, but, not being at all viscid, they are not easily IN JAVA. 91 removable. ‘The operations here described are often completed before the opening of the Spathoglotts at all. Of the orchids I gathered here none interested me more FIG. 16.—aRUNDINA SPECIOSA; A, B, E, FIG. 17.—ARUNDINA SPECIOSA (BUD); AS FIG. 17; C, UPPER MARGIN, AND A, TOP OF CREST OF ANTHER-CAP ; D, LOWER AND SIDE FLAPS OF B, POLLINIA; D, LOWER MARGIN OF STIGMA, STIGMA; E, STIGMA; F, FRONT OF COLUMN. than the Arundina speciosa, Bl. This cane-like species grows to a height of between five and six feet, producing without intermission for many months a succession of large and beautiful purple flowers. The labellum is tubular, and has a FG. 18.—ARUNDINA SPECIOSA SHOWING FIG. 19.—ARUNDINA SPECIOSA SHOWING ANTHER QUITE ROTATED INTO POLLINIA ROTATED INTO STIGMA STIGMA ; D, LOWER FLAPS OF STIGMA AND THE FRONT OF COLUMN, fF, CLOSING DOWN ANTHER-CAP; A, F, BURST WITH SWOLLEN POLLEN AS IN FIG. Ie TUBES. ANTHER-CAP REMOVED. broad fringed dark purple margin, from which radiate deeper lines converging towards the bright yellow throat, where they merge in two ridges leading to the shallow nectar-depression at the base of the column. In the very young bud (Fig. 16) the column is crowned with 92 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Wo ee eee its anther erect on the posterior part of the column. Underneath is the stigma, of a roughly square shape, its upper rim standing erect in front of the pollinia, rising to about one third of their height as atriangular eminence, which corresponds with the front margin of the rostellar platform. It is not in every flower that the shape of the stigma can be seen well, for the stage presently to be described begins very soon, often before the flower is expanded ; and only by the examination of a very large series have I been able to follow the modifications that have occurred. Concurrent with or even before the commencement of the rotation of the anther into its normal position some in- FIG. 20,—ARUNDINA SPECIOSA, SHOWING FIG, 21.—ARUNDINA SPECIOSA, BUD SHOW- A SECTION OF COLUMN OPENED FROM ING THE UPPER RIM CF STIGMA BEHIND; C, TOP OF UPPER MAR- ALREADY INVERTED DOWN THE GIN OF STIGMA (CORRESPONDING TO STYLARNY CANAL; LETTERS AS IN RCSTELLUM); C*, PORTION OF STIGMA; Fic. 17. G, STYLARY CANAL. fluence—which I do not know— causes the upper margin of the stigma to become inverted close down the posterior wall of the stylary canal, as seen in Fig. 17, and in longitudinal section opened from behind in Fig. 20, where the rostellum is seen hang- ing down the canal asa narrowband. Fig. 21 represents a very young bud, in which, though the pollinia had scarcely begun to rotate, the stigma had become already much modified, and is in waiting for the rotation of the pollinia. Along with this in- vagination of the upper margin of ig Q 1 lower lip is in Bee: panne Dee e eged (1 ards. ssections of the column showed that the rostellum goes on elongating down the stylary canal, as in Fig. 20, while the pollinia, slowly continuing to rotate downwards, finally precipitate them- selves into the stigma, whose flap-like margins embrace the IN JAVA, 93 anna nnnnresiererese Sones eS anther-cap, as seen in Fig. 18 and in 19, where the anther-cap is removed. On the conclusion of these singular movements no remains of the stigma can be seen. As a rule these operations are con- cluded before the full expanding of the flower, whose petals, after remaining expanded for only a few hours, fade, and, closing round the column, exclude any intruder from dis- turbing the interesting and mysterious rites of nature being enacted within. I have found that in some cases the rostellum (the upper margin of the stigma) is not invaginated down the stylary canal, but retains the more natural orchideal form of a broad flat rie. 22.—arvnpiva sprctosa, floor to the anther, projecting far over SUOWING Tun Sire eae the stigma as seen in Fig. 22. When FIG. 16; 1, RIDGE ON FLOOR the flower of Arundina speciosa has this ¢h"Naueneam rare form it invariably, as far as my observations enable me to speak, falls off unfertilized. The pollinia also lie far back in the anther, and are entirely con- cealed by the anther-case, which fits close down all round. An insect, to secure the pollinia, would require to alight on the FIG. 23. Figs. 23 anp 24.—ERIA SP., NEAR TO E. JAVENSIS; A, ANTHER-CAP, IN FIG. 23, SHRIVELLED UP}; B, POLLINIA; B*, POLLINIA SWOLLEN AFTER FALLING INTO STIGMA; D, ROSTELLUM; E, STIGMA. margin of the rostellar platform and lift up the anther case, a difficult operation, which supposing it to have successfully accomplished, it might wander far to find a stigma to apply the pollen so obtained to, for its own form of organs does not 8 94 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS A ennui probably occur on a second floret of its own species, within a wide area. Flowers with this conformation, however, remain expanded and fresh for several days, in marked contrast to those of the first form, which close up in a very few hours. In the median line of the upper surface of the rostellum there is a well-marked ridge (Fig. 22) which runs out to the tip to form the central promontory of the rostellum. In describing Phajus Blumei I remarked that there existed on the back of the stigma a prominent ridge running down nearly to the ovary. Now if we were to suppose the ridged rostellum of Arundina to become adherent to the back of the stigma instead of hanging down free, we should have such a ridge as is seen in FIG. 25. FiG. 20.—CHRYSOGLOSSUM SP. THE FIG. ON THE LEFT REPRESENTS TWO FLORETS ON FLOWER STEM; THAT ON THE RIGHT ONE CLEISTOGAMOUSLY FERTILISED. Phajus ; so that it is probable that the ridge in the latter plant may be the remnant of its rostellum adherent to the back of the stigma. Abundant on trees at 2000 feet above the sea, I gathered the dull-flowered Eria albido-tomentosa, remarkable for having its perianth densely covered with a felty mass of white wool. Its anther is separated by a rim-like rostellum from the broad and rather shallow stigma. Out of sixty flowers which I examined at various times, I did not find one otherwise than self-fertilised while still in the bud, by the viscid matter of the stigma swelling IN JAVA. 95 oe up and inundating, by the channels at the side of the rostellum at least the most external pollen masses on each side. These pollinia emit their tubes over the rim of the rostellum, almost - obliterating it, into the stylary canal. On the opening of the flower and the retraction of the anther-case, the most internal pollinia may sometimes be found in the condition of loose grains unaffected by the inundation of viscid matter. In its fertilisation this species of Evia seems to resemble Dendrobium chrysanthum. The mode of fertilisation described as occurring in Ophrys apifera by Mr. Darwin, I found to be followed very closely by a species of Hria near to E. javensis, in which the anther-cap shrivels up backwards after rupturing, so as to disclose the FIG. 26, FIG. 26a. FIG. 26.—CHRYSOGLOSSUM SP.; A, ANTHER-CAP; B, POLLINIA IN SITU; 6, STIGMA; D, UPPER MARGIN OF STIGMA; E, LOWER MARGIN OF STIGMA. FIG. 264,—SECTION OF SAME. THE VISCID MATTER FLOWS OVER THE MARGIN, D, INTO THE ANTHER. pollinia, which at once, even when quite shaded from wind and all other disturbances, begin a slow tortuous movement, during which they fall into their own stigmas, as seen in Fig. 25, p. 98. In a species of terrestrial orchid unknown to me, but nearly related, if not belonging to the genus Chrysoglossum, I found these contrivances for effecting self-fertilisation carried to their extreme limit, by its fertilising itself without ever opening its florets at all (Figs. 25, 26). I observed them in the forest, as well as grew a few of them in Mr. Lash’s garden, and every specimen was fertilised in the same way. In opening 96 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS (WA ee its locked-up petals, I found the labellum beautifully marked with lines of purple, carmine and orange, and the column also ; but no insect eye could ever be fascinated or allured by its painted whorls. ee In the rather inconspicuous Goodyera procera self-fertilisa- tion takes place by the swelling up of the viscid matter of the stigma beyond its true boundary, till it touches, as seen in Fig. 28, the viscid disk of the pollinia, and spreads into the pollinia chamber. I have no doubt this takes place in many other species of Goodyera, and very probably also in our own Highland species, Goodyera repens. Other species which I have Lhe tr, | WfA} iy M if UA, te FIG. 28. Gee GOODYERA PROCERA; A, SWOLLEN UP CAUDICLES OF POLLINIA (SOMEWHAT EXAG- GERATED) ; B, SPLIT ROSTELLUM, SHOWING IN FIG. 28 THE DISK OF POLLINTA ; C, STIGMA; D, UPPER MARGIN OF STIGMA BEFORE STIGMATIC FLUID HAS BEGUN TO SWELL; E, HE STIGMATIC FLUID SWOLLEN UP. not been able to designate by name presented similar or allied modifications for securing self-fertilisation. . To me was especially interesting the purple Arundina, which one might imagine to have become tired of vainly displaying its beauty to wayward and inappreciate butterflies and bees, and had assumed a form that should—let all the glittering humming wings pass heedless as they would—per- petuate a fertile race. These instances go to show that the rule that “the flowers of orchids are fertilised by the pollen of other flowers” is not so universal as has been supposed. It is to be feared that too often the interesting cases of flowers observed to be cross- fertilised by insects have been recorded, while those of flowers otherwise fertilised haye not been mentioned, so that the law IN JAVA. 97 of cross-fertilisation in orchids has been in danger of being unduly magnified, from the absence of evidence on the other side. The estate of Kosala derives its name from the rounded hill above the house. The word is of Sanscrit origin, but its meaning is unknown. It is a country along the bank of the Sarayu, forming a part of the modern province of Oude. It was the pristine kingdom of a solar race, and in the time of Buddha its principal city was. Sewet (Srivasti). There is another Kosala in the Deccan (Dakshina Kosala) ; so Kosala or Kusala is the name of a land or a race. Ala occurs as a termination in many names of countries, but the root Késh or Kush has such an immense variety of significations that it is impossible to find a good translation for it. The city of Sewet in Kosala was visited in a.p. 401 by the Chinese Buddhist pilgrim Fah-hian, and where he saw the famous sandal-wood figure made by order of the king of Kosala. He found at some distance from the city a copse called Aptanétravana (“recovered sight’’), where originally five hundred blind men lived who were restored to sight by Buddha. The blind men threw their staves on the ground, which forthwith grew up into trees and formed a sacred grove or copse. The name has most probably come down from Hindoo times to the present associated with some sacred legend whose influence hovers still over the spot; for when the coffee gardens were being made the natives refused to fell the forest that grew on the Kosala hill, and only under compulsion could they then be persuaded to enter it. Under its shade there stand several mounds, blocks, and slabs which Mr. Lash conducted me one day to see. On entering the forest we were somewhat surprised to find a portion of the ground newly cleared of underwood from about several of the stones, and against them standing the remnants of small torches of sweet gums which had been offered before them. I felt certain that this was the work of none of the surrounding people who were afraid to enter the copse. I decided therefore to make a full survey of the buried ruins, and after some difficulty I succeeded in securing, for a consideration, the services of a youth who was willing to 98 ‘A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS eae a cages brave with me the wrath of the guardian spirits of the grove, and assist me in the sacrilegious work of hewing which my operations woul, entail. In the immediate neighbourhood, was discovered a bronze bell of undoubted Hindoo manufacture, its handle ornamented with the sacred bull, but without the clapper which had dropped from its ring; and within the boundaries of the grove stands a rude figure of the Buddha, with elevated finger, as if in the act of instructing. The ruins consist of terraces built up round the hill, which probably once encircled it entirely, but part of which has evidently extended where now the coffee plantation exists, and has been obliterated perhaps in the cultivation of forest patches by the natives in former periods. Only the portion surrounding for some distance that used by the worshippers has EGG-SHAPED STONE FROM THE KARANG’S GROVE. been left unmolested. There the terraces are completely laid out in quadrilateral enclosures, their boundaries marked out by blocks of stone laid or fixed in the ground, which with singular exactitude lie within a degree of the true magnetic cardinal points. Here and there on the terraces are more prominent monuments—erect pillars surmounting oval piles of stones ; flat slabs on the ground supporting egg-shaped blocks, which are distributed in many spots in such numbers and_ perfection ot shape that to have made them or searched the brooks for them must have entailed a vast expenditure of time and trouble. Here and there also I found flat slabs raised on end and remains of circular paved areas, set round with upright blocks of stone. Specially noteworthy was a pillar, erect Within a square marked out with stones on the ground, round IN JAVA, 99 ee which the worshippers had plaited a fringe of Areng palm leaves. This same stone is thus decorated at every visit made by the worshippers to the sacred grove. At the base of two of the stones, where perhaps they have lain for unknown time, I found an earthenware jar, both of them somewhat broken, but of elegant shape and _ artistic design, not of ordinary native pattern or workmanship ; but, besides these jars, the egg-shaped stones and the image, all the monuments were of rough stone and without inscription or sign of handicraft. At the base of all the principal mounds and pillars I found remains of their offerings. I learnt that the worshippers belonged to the tribe called the Karangs or Kalangs, who lived in a village lying several days’ journey to the southward. Four times a year a proces- EARTHENWARE POT FROM THE KARANG’S GROVE. sion of old men and youths repairs, by paths known only to themselves, through the dense intervening forest in a direct course by valley and mountain, to this sacred grove; the old men te worship and make offering, the youths to see and learn the mysterious litany of their fathers. The old men lead the way; the rest follow in single file, no one breaking the silence of their journey. Should any one be encountered by them on the way their pilgrimage is considered for that time unpropitious, and they return to their village to wait for a more favourable occasion. On their arrival with early morning at the grove they camp in a small hut, cleanse the ground about the sacred mounds, and perform during the night or on the following day the rites known to them- selves alone; in the evening they take their departure to an 100 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS. Nie ee adjoining valley, where below a great overhanging rock they wait till break of next day, when they return home in a similar secret and silent manner to their coming. ‘They all wear garments of cloth striped with black and white. Rafiles* has given an interesting and full account of these people in his ‘ History of Java’ from which I make the foilow- ine extract: “They were at one time numerous in various parts of Java, leading a wandering life, practising religious rites different trom those of the great body of the people, and ayoid- ing intercourse with them, but most of them are now reduced to subjection, and are become stationary in their residence, having embraced the Mahomedan religion. In a few villages their peculiar customs are still preserved. Although by tra- ; EARTUENWARE POT FROM THE KARANG’S GROVE, dition their descent is from a princess of Mendang, Kamilan, and a chief transformed into a dog, they have claims to be considered the actual descendants of the aborigines of the island. They are represented as having a great veneration for a red dog, one of which is generally kept by each family, which they will not permit to be struck or ill-used.t When a young man asks a girl in marriage he must prove descent * For additional information the reader is referred to Tijdschrift v. Ned. Ind. i, jaarg. ii. deel, p. 295 e¢ seg.: iv. j. ii. 217; vii. j. iv. 885 ef seg.; Bijdragen yv. Ind. T. L. en V.-Kunde, iii. Volgreeks, iv. deel. ; Indisches Maga- zine, 1845, t “According to the Zend Avesta, certain dogs have the power of protecting the departed spirits from the demons lying in wait for it on the perilous passage of the narrow bridge over the abyss of hell; and a dog is always led in funeral processions, and made to look at the corpse."—Macmil. Mag., “Village Life in the Apennines,” June 1879, a IN JAVA. 101 ee from their peculiar stock. When the Kalangs moved from one place to another, they were conveyed in carts, with two solid wheels with a revolving axle, drawn by two pairs of buffaloes, according to the circumstances of the party. In these were placed the materials of huts, implements of husbandry, &c. In this manner, until forty or fifty years ago, they were continually moving from one part of the island to another. They have still their separate chiefs, and preserve many of their customs. They are treated with contempt by their Sundanese neighbours, so that ‘ Kalang’ is considered an epithet of contempt and disgrace.” Living despised and secluded in villages apart by them- selves, they follow the rites and customs that have descended to them from their forefathers with the superstitious awe that comes of ignorance. ‘he pillars in the centre of rudely circular heaps, as perhaps also the ovoid blocks resting on tablets and other shaped slabs, point no doubt to the celebra- tion here of phallic rites and to the worship of the Linga and Yoni, the emblems of Siva and Vishnu. It is interesting to find the goblets or vases at the base of the upright pillars ; they point probably to the “mystic vessels or goblets in the hands of Siva in the image of this god in Indian temples in central Java.” Not less significant is the upright stone decked with palm-leaf fringe, a symbol round which these rude and ignorant villagers, following their blind traditions, weave to this day hangings, “just as the women did for the Ashera in the Jewish temple, and the Athenian maidens [following their old traditions] embroidered the sacred peplos for the ships presented to Athene at the Dionysiac festival” (Cox). In standing under the forest amid these ancient remains, I felt as if I were having an unbroken view down the ages to distant antiquity ; these relics still warm, as they were, with the inter- mittent fires which have been kept alive from the dim past till now, and echoing with the footsteps of the rude worshippers who, unaffected by the incessant waves of change that have broken about them, are themselves as much ancient monuments as the very blocks of weather-beaten, lichen- matted trachyte, whose purpose is lost to their traditions, before which they torpidly mutter a litany they do not comprehend 192 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS OO pitch eee and listlessly perfume the air, they know not why, with the odours of their incense. Not far distant from the Karang dwellings lies the sacred village of Tjibéo, inhabited by the Badui, containing never more nor fewer than forty souls. If their number be increased by birth the overplus must go out and reside in one or other of three neighbouring villages ; if their number decrease the deficit must be made up from among the Outsiders, as they call these extraneous villagers. No foot but one of their own—not even of the highest European official—may cross the sacred boundary, which at some distance hedges the sanctity of their abodes. Like the Rodiyas of Ceylon, they eat carrion and the flesh of animals offensive to their neighbours ; flesh of buffalo they may eat, but they may not kill the animal themselves, and of fowl also if the life have not been taken by the letting of its blood, but by a stroke on the head. They wear oniy a short loin-cloth, whose colour must never be other than white striped with black.* In speaking to any one not of their own stock, of however high a rank he be, they use the pronouns by which a superior distinctly indicates that he is addressing his inferior. At various periods of the year they also pay mysterious and religious rites to rude venerated blocks of stone, arranged in terraces near their village. The Kalangs are probably an offshoot of the same stock as the Badui, though they are not reckoned among those outsiders who may be received to make up a deficiency in the sacred Forty of Tjibéo, nor do they worship at their shrines. On the high Tengger Mountains, in the east of Java, a colony with rites and customs similar to those of the Badui exists in all the isolation and opprobrium that a schismatic religion can call out. With the exception of the Karangs and the Badui, the entire population of Bantam profess the Mahomedan religion, which however seems to be merely a lusty and fanatical graft on the pagan superstitions of the ancient times, * “A magnificent robe having been given to Gotama, his attendant Ananda, in order to destroy its intrinsic value, cut it into thirty pieces and sewed them together in four divisions, so that the robe resembled the patches of a rice-field, divided by embankments, and in conformity with this precedent the robe of every priest was similarly dissected and reunited.”—Henry’s ‘ Eastern Monachism,’ chap. xii. p. 117. Can the striped garments of the Kalangs and Badui have any reference to the above tradition ? IN JAVA, 108 On Mount Dangka and on the summits of many of the neighbouring hills I stumbled on groves containing either rocks naturally in situ, or stones that had been placed there, which my porters refused to enter for fear of being affected by some sickness or misfortune. “They are Patapahaan ” (places of penance and worship), they would say, and are the sacred spots where they believe their ancestors who, refusing to embrace Mahomedanism, fled to the forests, vanished in invi- sible forms. Whenever calamity overtakes them—when their crops have failed or they are childless—they repair (in greatest numbers during the month of the chief Mahomedan fast—Ramadan) to these Tapa, where they will spend days of fasting and awesome terror, in the hope that the spirits of their transfigured forefathers will grant them the desire of their hearts. In dire sickness, when the slender list of their pharmacopeeia has been exhausted, they will as a last resource send to gather lichens from the sacred stones of the despised Kalangs or the Badui, in the belief that a decoction therefrom will avail to ward off or heal their sickness. It is quite a common thing to encounter by the wayside near a village, or in a rice-field, or below the shade of a great dark tree, a little platform with an offering of rice and prepared fruits to keep disease and blight at a distance, and propitiate the spirits ever lying in wait in gloomy, sunless (and naturally depressing) spots to harm the passer by. This fear of lurking evil ever oppresses their lives. No one can be found brave enough to touch a man struck to the ground, for instance, by lightning; they will cover him up where he fell, with leaves or generally with stable dung, and commit his re- covery to nature. If he recover, well and good; but to carry him from the spot, to lift him or meddle with him while un- conscious, would be to ery down the Avenger’s displeasure on their own head. In the month of January 1880, Dr. Scheffer, the then Di- rector of the Buitenzorg Gardens, wrote to me that, as much virgin forest was being felled among the mountains not far from the Government Cinchona Plantations in the adjoining province of the Preanger, a good opportunity offered itself of increasing my herbarium. This was not a chance to let slip, so, bidding a reluctant farewell to Kosala, I set off for Buitenzorg 104 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS by the direct foot-road through the forest. The only sound which disturbed the woods was the “ Kang-kang-kong ” of the “bird of the rainy season,” as the native has named a species which disappears or is silent during the dry monsoon—a bird I could never catch a sight of, however, notwithstanding my most wary stalking. IN JAVA. 105 CHAPTER III. SOJOURN AT PENGELENGAN, IN THE PREANGER REGENCIES. Leave Buitenzorg for the Preanger Regencies—Journey to Bandong in a Post-cart—Bandong—Thence to Pengelengan—Visit to the famous Cinchona Gardens of the Government—Plant-life in the surrounding mountains—The Upas tree—Crater flora—Land-slips and the power of rain—Interesting birds—The Badger-headed Mydaus—The Banteng, or wild cattle—Wild dogs—Leave Pengelengan for Batavia. AFTER a few days of preparation for my new tour spent in Buitenzorg, I sent off my baggage to the Preanger in the care of astring of coolies, and secured for myself a seat at the mode- rate rate of twenty cents per mile in the mail-cart which every evening leaves Buitenzorg for Bandong. The mail-cart was not the most luxurious, but it was the cheapest and certainly the most expeditious way of getting over the ground. This cart was arough edition of our own mail-gig—simply a box on wheels— whose cushionless and slippery top formed a most uncomfort- able seat, yet I would not have missed the ride for a good deal. We started with a couple of stout ponies yoked tandem-wise, and in place of side lamps our way was lighted by an immense torch made of splints of bamboo some seven feet long tied together, which a youth, who straddle-wise clung on behind, held to the wind to keep it ablaze. Our road lay over the Megamendoeng Pass, 4509 feet above the sea. At first the gradient was not very steep, and we proceeded at a fine pace. Towards every post-station, five miles apart all along the road, our progress was heralded by loud shouts, and by the louder shot-like whip-crackings that these drivers are famed for. At each station a halt of three or four minutes sufficed to put in the fresh horses standing ready for us, out blazed a fresh flaming torch, and our plunging and kicking steeds were off again, at a gallop which by voice and whip was not allowed to flag until we pulled up under the 106 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS ee ee Eee eer next station. By and by the ascent became steeper, and our team had to be augmented by the addition of a buffalo in front of our horses; further up a second was added, till at last the equine was altogether discarded for the bovine element. Under the soothing evenness of their progress I might have dropped into a pleasant doze ; but the night was so beautiful that I preferred to enjoy the picturesque effect produced by the light of the torches on our team and their drivers—who were dressed in short red trousers, deep yellow jackets, and their tartan sarongs thrown sash-wise across their shoulders, and wore immense hats more than two feet in diameter; and to lose none of the charm of the bright starlit night and the fire-flies that illuminated with their fitful light the borders of the forest through which we were ascending whose low moan was the only sound that broke the stillness of the night, for the driver had coiled himself up as best he could, and was fast asleep, and the buffalo-boys walked like mutes at a funeral. At about midnight we reached the summit of the pass, where it was so cold that I was glad to crouch by the fire of a small hut there, while the buffaloes were being changed. The place of the oxen was now taken by a single horse, which, urged at a pace more swift than safe, carried us down the mountain side into a warmer region in a very short time. The up-hill seat might have been more comfortable; but the down-hill ride was interspersed with practical lessons in dynamies which rather tended to disagree with the general quiet order of one’s internal arrangements, yet the sensation of being whirled along at such a rapid speed was full of exhilaration and great pleasure. At 3 a.m. we pulled up at our half-way house— the post-office at Tjandjoor—where I was checked off with the rest of the baggage which had been consigned to the driver at Buitenzorg, re-booked for the remainder of the journey, and handed over to the charge of a new Jehu to be delivered at his destination. Beyond Tjandjoor the road passed through a more level country, leading to the deep valley of the Tjitaroom. As there was no bridge over the ravine we were, on arriving at the near bank, assisted to alight by what seemed a regiment of walking torches, and with cart and horses transported on a bamboo raft to the further side, where two buffalo friends were OUR NIGHT-CROSSING OF THE RIVER TJITARUM. IN JAVA. 107 in waiting to haul us up the long steep bank out of the gorge, beyond which the road was easy, and the horses, urged to their utmost speed, dashed along through village after village, rousing the dogs and awakening the sleepers. The night growing into day brought us one of the pleasantest portions of our drive. ‘The grey tints of the short dawn passing gradually through many lovely hues into a delicate blue, and the fresh wooded landscape lit up by the morning sun more charmingly than at any other hour of the day, are the beauties, never wearying to the eye, that accompany the opening of a tropical day. At 8 a.m. we drew rein at Bandong post-office, having accomplished somewhat over eighty miles in thirteen hours. Bandong is the chief town of the Preanger Regencies, one of the largest and richest residencies in Java. In this province the Government has some of its most extensive coffee gardens, tobacco and cinchona plantations. The town is large and straggling, containing but few European houses; its most interesting building is the residence of the Regent or native governor of the district. In front of his door is a great square, in the centre of which a giant fig-tree grows, beneath whose shade on high days the natives congregate to sport and to pay respect to the chief. Though some 2000 feet above the sea it is hot and close at all seasons, and is not a very pleasant place to live in. The larger part of the trading population is Chinese and Arab, the natives taking little or no part in it ; but the district is noted for its beautiful ornamental baskets of bamboo wicker-work. Bandong stands in the centre of an immense level plain hemmed in on all sides by very high mountains—most of them yoleanoes—which discharge their streams into it, whose waters can find only one outlet, the Tjitaroom, which issues from the western angle and flows northward into the Jaya Sea. In prehistoric times this plain must have been one large lake, till, by the convulsions and eruptions of the volcanic peaks that banked it in, a gap was formed, which drained off the water, and turned its bottom into a fruitful field. On the whole one would have preferred the lake, and Jaya could then have boasted of one respectable fresh-water sea, a feature of beauty conspicuously and unexpectedly absent from so moun- tainous and volcanic a country. 108 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS After resting a day in Bandong I proceeded to my destina- tion, some thirty miles farther to the south. For fifteen miles of the way it was possible to drive in a spring cart, which I hired in the town; but the rest of the road, which rises to 4500 feet, is yery steep, and had to be accomplished on horseback. The road in the lower districts, shaded at short intervals by leafy Hibiscus trees, passed between hedges of bright yellow- purple- and red-flowering Lantana ; higher up broad patches of pink balsam (Impatiens), shady Albizzias, purple Bin- tino (Lagerstremia), tall tree-ferns and a shrubby species of Cassia bearing large trosses of bright golden. flowers, were met with. A little higher a species of Datura, with broad leaves and large white trumpet-shaped flowers, suddenly became abundant.. Being utilised by the natives as boundary hedges for their coffee-gardens, it formed by the size and abundance of its flowers a marked feature of the vegetation. Five or six hours of slow ascent brought us at last to Pen- gelengan, a small village lying at an elevation of 4500 feet above the sea, on an undulating plateau formed by the inner slopes of the Malawar, Wayang and Tilu mountains, whose summits range from 6000 to 7500 feet, and at several points command a view of the South Indian Ocean. On the out- skirts of the village was a comfortable and convenient Govern- ment bungalow, in which visitors to this rather out-of-the-way spot could, with the permission of the Resident (always wil- lingly granted), be accommodated for a time. Here I was in the centre of one of the great Government coffee districts, and in the vicinity of its cinchona plantations on the slopes of the surrounding mountains. One of my iirst visits was paid to the ‘ Bark’ gardens in order to see in a living state these famous trees, and especially that species with cream-coloured flowers, the Oinchona Ledgeriana, which had attained so great a celebrity, and could in 1880 be seen, excepting in our Himalayan gardens, almost nowhere else but.in the Dutch plantations. It is now little more than thirty years since the Netherlands Indian Government began to cultivate cinchona. ‘Their first seed was brought by Haskarl, of the Botanical Gardens in Buitenzorg, who had been deputed by the then Colonial Minister to visit Peru to see the tree in its native forests and bring home IN JAVA. 109 with him a collection of what seeds he could find. He was unfortunately very unsuccessful, and obtained seeds of only very inferior sorts. In 1866 the Government purchased, for less than £50, a small quantity of seed of a supposed variety of C. calisaya sent from America by Mr. Charles Ledger. So well had this species been propagated that there were nearly one million trees, worth more than a million and a half of money, in the gardens, raised from the-seed then purchased. It is well known that cinchona is so liable to hybridisation that it is very difficult to obtain pure seedlings from the seed even of pure trees, the offspring containing very often less alkaloids than their parents. An experiment, which has proved a great success, was made by Dr. Moens of grafting on the easily reared and quickly growing C. succirubra stems, shoots from the highest alkaloid-yielding trees. They have’ been found to grow very rapidly and to reproduce pretty regularly the same proportion of alkaloids as the trees from which the grafts were eut. Of Mr. Ledger’s variety, now raised to the rank of a new species by Dr. Moens, the seed-raised trees may be of many degrees of value, but all contain a far higher percentage of quinine than any other species. I gathered as a memento of my visit some flowers from trees whose bark yielded, with a trace only of any other alkaloid, the extraordinary amount of ten and even thirteen per cent. of pure quinine. Continued cultivation has therefore, it would seem, vastly developed the amount of quinine that these Ledgerianas contain, compared with what they yield in their native forests of Bolivia. The story of how the seed of this priceless tree (which can now be propagated ad lilitum) reached the Old World is so in- teresting that i have extracted a few paragraphs froma letter of its introducer, Mr. Charles Ledger, in the Meld of Feb. 5, 1881, addressed to his brother, evoked by an account of the Dutch Gardens I had contributed to the same journal in 1880: “While engaged in my alpaca enterprise in 1856, a Bolivian Indian, Manuel Tucra Mamani, formerly and afterwards a cinchona bark-cutter, was accompanying me with two of his sons. He accompanied me in almost all my frequent journeys into the interior, and was very useful in examining the large quantities of cinchona bark and alpaca wool I was constantly 9 110 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Wie ee purchasing. He and his sons were very much attached to me, and I placed every confidence in them. Sitting round our camp-fire one evening, as was my custom after dinner, convers- ing on all sorts of topics, I mentioned what I had read as to Mr. Clement R. Markham’s mission [in search of cinchona- seeds]. Now Manuel had been with me in three of iny journeys into the circhona districts of the Yungas of Bolivia, where I had to go looking after laggard contractors for delivery of bark. It was while conversing on the subject of Mr. Markham’s journey, and wondering which route he would take, &c., that Manuel greatly surprised me by saying: ‘The gentleman will not leave the Yungas in good health if he really obtains the Rogo plants and seeds. Manuel was always very taciturn and reserved. I said nothing at the time, there being some thirty more of my Indians sitting round the large fire. The next day he reluctantly told me how every stranger on entering the Yungas was closely watched un- observed by himself; how several seed-collectors had their seed changed; how their germinating power was destroyed by their own guides, servants, &c. He also showed me how all the Indians most implicitly believe, if by plants or seed from the Yungas, the cinchonas are successfully propagated in other countries, all their own trees will perish. Such, I assure you, is their superstition. Although there are no laws prohibit- ing the cinchona seed or plants being taken out of the country, I have seen private instructions from the Prefect in La Paz, ordering strictest vigilance to prevent any person taking seed or plants out of the country. More than half-a-dozen times I have had my luggage, bedding, &c.,- searched when coming out of the valley of the Yungas. [Mr. Ledger unsuccessfully attempted to communicate with Mr. Markham, who was not permitted to enter Bolivia.] * “You are aware how I am looked upon as a doctor by the Indians. Well, one day I said: ‘Manuel, I may some day require some seed and flowers of the famous white flower, rogo cascarrilla, as a remedy; and I shall rely on your not deceiving me in the way you have told me.’ He merely said, ‘Patron, if you ever require such seed and flowers, I will not deceive you.’ And J thought no more about it. (f. Markham’s ‘ Travels in Peru and India.’ IN JAVA. bd “ Manuel was never aware of my requiring seed and leayes for propagating purposes; he was always told they were wanted to make a special remedy for a special illness. For many years, since 1844, I had felt deeply interested in seeing Europe, and my own dear country in particular, free from being dependent on Peru or Bolivia for its supply of life-giving quinine. Remembering and relying on Manuel's promise to me in 1856, I resolved to do all in my power to obtain the very best cinchona seed produced in Bolivia. ; “His son Santiago went to Australia with me in 1858. In 1861, the day before sending back to South America Santiago and other Indians who had accompanied me there as shepherds of the alpacas, I bought 200 Spanish dollars, and said to him : ‘You will give these to your father. Tell him I count on his keeping his promise to get for me forty to fifty pounds of roge cinchona (white flower) seed. He must get it from trees we had sat under together when trying to reach the Mamore river in 1851; to meet me at ‘l'acna (Peru) by May 1863. If not bringing pure, ripe rogo seed, flowers and leaves, never to look for me again.’ “T arrived back in Tacna on the 5th of January, 1865. I at once sent a message to Manuel, informing him of my arrival. At the end of May he arrived witb his precious seed. It is only now, some twenty-four years after poor Manuel promised not to deceive me, manifest how faithfully and loyally he kept his promise. I say poor Manuel, because, as you know, he lost his life while trying to get another supply of the same class of seed for me in 1872-3. You are aware too how later on I lost another old Indian friend, poor Poli, when bringing seed and flowers in 1877. “T feel thoroughly convinced in my own mind that such astonishingly rich quinine-yielding trees as those in Java are not known to exist (in any quantity) in Bolivia. These wonderful trees are only to be found in the Caupolican district in eastern Yungas. The white flower is specially belonging to the cinchona ‘ rogo’ of Apolo. “You will call to mind, no doubt, the very great difficulties you had to get this wonderful ‘seed’ looked at, even; how a part was purchased by Mr. Money for account of our East Indian Government for £50 under condition of 10,000 112 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS werminating. Though 60,000 plants were successfully raised from it by the late Mr. M‘Ivor, I only received the £50. “The seed taken by the Netherlands Government cost it barely £50. «Such then is the ‘story’ attaching to the now famous Cinchona Ledgeriana, the source of untold wealth to Java, Ceylon, and, I hope, to India and elsewhere. I am proud to see my ‘dream’ of close on forty years ago is realised ; Europe is no longer dependent on Peru or Bolivia for its supply of life-giving quinine.” In my new locality I experienced, as at Kosala, the same difficulty in obtaining herbarium specimens of the great trees, with a better opportunity of verifying the fact that the bulk of those that had been felied were really barren. The fallen trunks, however, afforded an abundant harvest of ferns ; while on the surrounding mountains, several of them quiescent yoleanoes, which were higher than any I had yet visited, I was happy in gathering many shrubs and plants which I had not before seen. Close to my door grew one, our common rib- grass (Plantago major), which I would have passed by at home as a rank weed, but I gathered it here with real affection, as much “for auld acqua’ntance sake,’ as in sympathy with its distant exile and inexorable durance, with a few compatriots, on these unquiet peaks, which the hot surrounding plains haye made an island-in-an-island prison, more hopeless to escape from than the most ocean-compassed speck. At 4500 feet.above the sea I found a small species of Hypericum on wet ground, like our own Marsh St. John’s-wort (H. elodes) ; here and there, about 5000 feet, appeared purple violets (V. alate), increasing in abundance with the ascent through woods of magnolias and chestnuts, their stems clothed with orchids, I’reycinetias, climbing aroids and lycopods, and on whose floor the dreaded Upas dropped its fruits. Beneath the shady canopy of this tall fig no native will, if he knows it, dare to rest, nor will he pass between its stem and the wind, so strong is his belief in its evil influence. In the centre of a tea estate not far off from my encampment stood, because no one could be found daring enough to cut it down, an immense specimen, which had long been a nuisance to the proprietor on account of the lightning every now and then IN JAVA. 113 striking off, to the damage of the shrubs below, large branches, which none of his servants could be induced to remove. One day, having been pitchforked together and burned, they were considered disposed of; but next morning the whole of his labourers in the adjacent village awoke, to their intense alarm, afflicted with a painful eruption, wherever their bodies were usually uncovered. It was then remembered that the smoke of the burning branches had been blown by the wind through the village; this undoubtedly accounted for the epidemic ; but it did not allay their fears that they were all as good as dead men, for the potency of the sap as a poison is but too well known to them. To prevent a general flight of the workmen it became necessary to get rid of the tree altogether, but the difficulty was to find any one willing to lay the axe to its root. At last a couple of Chinamen, after much persuasion and the offer of a high fee, agreed to perform the hazardous task of cutting up and carting it away. ‘To the surprise of everybody they accomplished their task without experiencing the least harm. They pocketed their fee and departed in silence, without, however, saying that they had at intervals during their work, artfully smeared their bodies with cocoa-nut oil. The sap of the bark alone is hurtful, for the logs into which the stripped trunk was cut were made into furniture for the owner’s dining-room, without ill effects to the carpen- ters. The bark of another denizen of the same forest—Gluta benghas, one of the Anacardiacer—contains a, sap even more noxious, for, falling on the skin, it produces stubborn ulcers which, on the woodcutters—who often get splashed on their arms and body—require months to heal ; but its sap is not used by them for poison, as the antiarin is. It is curious to reflect how acute native ingenuity has been in elaborating a pharmacopceia abounding in subtle articles to waste or take away life, while it contains hardly one to preserve it. The action of some of these preparations, whose effects I bad heard of as well as seen, astonished me vastly, but no bribe that I could offer was tempting enough to induce their old dukuns to disclose their composition. At elevations of 5000 feet Podocarpus trees (of the yew family), oaks and laurels formed much of the shade, under 114 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS which flourished elegant Melastomas, with white instead of pink flowers, and raspberries (Rubus) of many kinds, the Rubus lineatus, a form with specially beautiful foliage, bemg abun- dant between 6000 and 7000 feet. On many of these moun- tains a single step would often lead the foot out of the green forest on to the edge of a great scar-like blotch, exuding sulphureous. vapours through every crack and orifice, dis- figuring their verdant slopes, like a suppurating sore on a fair neck. Yet within the indurated margins of these smoul- dering craters, a flora specially and surprisingly interesting is to be encountered. Amid the very vapours of the fumaroles I gathered bunches of Hricaceous flowers, such as Gaultheria leucocarpa and punctata, and Vaccinium floribundum, their leaves loaded with sulphur and other deposits, but their flowers stiff with healthy waxiness and fragrant with their own sweet honey odour; Dipteris horsfieldi and other ferns and plants, nowhere else to be seen on the mountain, grew in the steaming mud; while Rhododendron vetusum stretched its roots out into the fuming streams, which boiled and bubbled oyer out of the rumbling cauldrons below. The Dipteris fern 1s not found in Java much farther to the east. A line through the longitude of Samarang, which ap- pears to be its eastern boundary, is also the western limit of the teak (Tectona grandis), of the camphor tree (Dryobalanops camphora), and of several species of palms (Borassus flabellifor- mas), and several species of Caryota and other trees, which are not found in West Java, though abundant in Sumatra. Mr. Wallace has pointed out how much he found the Ornithology of the eastern to differ from that of the western portion of the island; and among mammalia, I am told by intelligent natives, neither the rhinoceros nor the Badger-headed Mydaus crosses this boundary eastward. Outside the rim of the craters, where the eround had begun as it were to heal, broad patches of a beautiful species of lichen (Cladonia vulcanica) covered the surface, each tip of its pale grey thallus crowned with a fructifying scarlet disk. This is the lowly vegetation with which N ature, when a crater has become extinct, first slowly hides the wounds her strife has made, while scars made by landslips are concealed in a single season with a luxuriant covering of bananas. IN JAVA. 115 During the rainy season the thunder of slopes laden with forest trees and shrubs crashing down, often for hundreds of feet into the valleys, was a daily sound, which impressed me with the supreme potency of rain as an agent in planing down the mountains and widening the valleys. I have often been astonished at the rapidity with which even a small stream will carry away the débris of a great landslip. When a heavy gale accompanies continued rains, the fall of giant trees on the narrowed ridges of mountains, is very often the cause of extensive landslips into both the adjacent valleys, which lowers down by very perceptible degrees their barrier ridges. Among the more interesting zoological objects of this district added to my collection, were the Stphia banjumas, a fairy fly-catcher of a beautiful azure blue, whose nest, a thing of beauty like itself, I found cunningly concealed and protected by the curled edges of a Rubus leaf and containing a delicate, pure white ege¢ dotted over with brownish-red spots ; a sea-green magpie (Crssa thalassina), with brown wings, coral beak and legs; and a handsome shrike (Laniellus leucogram- micus), known only from Java. Civet-cats were very abundant ; and the nocturnal scaly anteater or pangolin (Manis) was pretty often captured in the evening, while clumsily climbing on the trees, licking up with amazing rapidity streams of ants, which are its sole food—an interesting form especially to the embryologist and the genealogist, who find in its structures surviving “marks of ancientness,” which have greatly helped to unravel the mammalian pedigree. Another slow prowler, the Mydaus meliceps, very often made my evening hours quite unbearable by the intensely offensive odour with which, even in its most inoffensive frame of mind, it hedged its crepuscular walks for at least a mile round. It was no use to try to frighten it away, for if its equanimity were disturbed it did not haste to his lair as one could have desired. It thickened, instead, the very air with a malignant scent that clung to one’s garments, furniture and food for weeks. Hors- field has stated that it is exclusively confined to mountains rising over 7000 feet, “and that on these it occurs with the regularity of some plants extending from one end of the island to other on the numerous disconnected summits.” Its altitu- dinal distribution is, however, not nearly so restricted as here 116 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS oi ON Gow ci ae stated, fur I have encountered it on hills and hot plateaus at all elevations down to below 500 feet above the sea; and it is said not to extend to East Java. The native has a superstition that if a man has fortitude enough to eat its flesh he will have become proof against sickness of all kinds. In the forests on the southern slopes of the Malawar and the Wayang, the banteng (Bos banteng) lived in considerable herds. The full-grown animal has a magnificent head of horns, and I was very anxious to secure such a trophy; but only after the most wary and patient stalking was I able to get within range of a herd of them, and then only of a calf with immature horns. No more bellicose and dangerous inhabitant of the forest than a wounded bull need hunter care to encounter. The baying of troops of Adjags or wild dogs often reached my ears, but in all my efforts to meet them in full hunt I was disappointed. The native accounts—repeated to me in Sumatra a year later, in identically the same terms—of their manner of hunting credits them with so much intelligence, if not reason, that I was anxious to witness the performance for myself. Their food is chiefly the Kanfjl and the Muntjac deer, and the natives in both countries averred that, on discovering a patch of alang-alang grass in which these are hiding, the adjags first urinate all the grass in a circle round their fugitives, then drive them out, when, blinded and maddened by the pain of the pungent urine in their eyes, they fall an easy prey to the dogs. They are so exceedingly shy and wary that it is difficult to secure a shot, and I obtained only a single speci- men in bad condition. As soon as the fact became known I had quite a crowd beseeching for shreds of its skin, or if not that for a few hairs or some portion of its body, to suspend or to burn with a form of words near their rice-fields, as a charm to keep off evil influences from the crop. The whole of the carease was cut up by them, distributed, and carefully carried away for this purpose! Such forms of words are implicitly believed in, as I had an opportunity one day of learning from a dealer in krisses, who came to my house to trade. He was very anxious for me to buy a blade, and carefully showed me how to select one that would not fail me in time of need. To bea trusty weapon for IN JAVA. 117 me, it ought to be especially made to some measure of my own body—of hand, arm or thigh, of the breadth of my two thumbs or of my span; but to discover the same potency in a ready- made blade, I ought to divide a straw or a grass-stem, of equal length with the blade, into as many lengths as it contains of its own breadth at a distance from the hilt of twice the measure of the first joint of the thumb. These pieces laid on the blade alternately lengthwise and crosswise would reveal the suitability of the weapon for my use, by the direction of the last piece— crosswise it would indicate a fence—a bar sinister” ; length- wise, no obstruction—a favourable omen. Another test was to measure its length by the breadth of my right and left thumbs alternately, repeating at each alternation one of the words, “ S72, Lungu, Dunia, Rara, Pati, Sri,” &c., and according to which of these words should fall to the last thumb-breadth would the blade be for me a wise choice or not. Sri being a designation of honour, and Dunia, signifying the world, would therefore be good omens; whereas Iara, meaning sickness, and Patz, death, would indicate misfortune, and the purchase of such a kriss would bring me disaster. In much the same way, I can recollect how as boys we used to augur our destiny by the number of buttons on our garments,-—whether we were to become “a soldier, a sailor, a tinker, a tailor, a hangman, a lawyer or a thief.” In the beginning of May I left my bungalow on this salubrious piateau on my return to Buitenzorg. Kvyerywhere the golden rice-fields were dotted with harvesters, their lacquered hats resplendent in blue and gold, the brown shoulders of the men and the scarlet calicoes of the women and children in the midst of the yellow grain, forming bright pictures in the sunny landscape all along the way. After a few weeks in Buitenzorg and Batayia, spent in packing up and despatching my collections, I left for Telok- betong, in South Sumatra. 118 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS 1 a ere APPENDIX TO PART II. ee Ageeecomeen I Description of a new Bat from Java, of the genus Kerivoula. By OLp- FIELD Tuomas, F.Z.S., Assistant in the Zoological Department, British Museum. [From the Annals and Magazine of Natural History, for June 1880.] The specimen upon.which this description is based was obtained by’ Mr. H. O. Forbes at Kosala, in Bantam, Java, 2100 feet above the sca, on the 24th of September, 1879, and is now in the British Museum. KERIVOULA JAVANA. Fur greyish-black, each hair being nearly black for its proximal third, then white for the middle third, the end being black, with sometimes a shining white tip. Ears rather short; laid forward they reach to about half-way between the eyes and the tip of the nose. Shape of ears and tragus exactly as in K. jugori, the former having the second small con- cavity in the middle of the outer edge, and the latter the deep horizontal notch above the external basal lobule described in that species, as shown in the wood-cut. Dis- tribution of fur as in K. papuensis, there being short shining yellowish hairs thickly set along the forearm, on the thumb quite to the claw, all along the second finger, on both phalanges of the third, and on the digital phalanges of the fourth and fifth fingers. ‘here are also a few hairs on the HEAD OF K. JAYANA. proximal end of the fifth metacarpal. The tail and the hind limbs quite to the bases of the claws are covered with similar hairs; the edge of the interfemoral, ‘however, is without a fringe. The teeth are quite similar to those of K. papuensis. 4X. javana is thus intermediate between K. jagori, a Philippine species, and K. papuensis, from New Guinea, differing from the latter in the shape of the ears and tragus, and by the absence of an interfemoral fringe, and from the former by the presence of fur upon the limbs, that species havirg these quite naked. It differs from both, however, in the tricolor character of the fur, as they are of a nearly uniformly dark reddish brown colour, though the tips of the hairs are lighter. Measurements of the type, an adult female in spirit: Length, head and body 1:93", tail 1:72”, head 0-78”, ear 0:6”, tragus 0 87”, forearm 1°68”, thumb 0:27”, third finger 3-0”, fifth finger 2:2”, tibia 0°72”, foot 0:35”. IN JAVA. 149 Ii. On a new Genus of Spiders. By Rey. O. P. Camprinas, M.A.,C.M.Z.S., &. (Extracted from The Proc. Zool. Soc., 1884, p. 196 et se7q.) Mr. H.-O. Forbes has lately described (Proceedings of the Zoological Society, 1883, p. 580,) under the provisional name of Thomisus decipiens the habits of a spider which he met with in Java. The spider itself is remarkable from its exact resemblance to the droppings of a bird; and it is still more remarkable from the increased resemblance added in the spinning of a thin white web on the surface of a leaf, by means of which it secures itself, on its back, to the leaf, leaving its legs free to enclose and seize any insect unwittingly resting upon or crossing the apparantly innocuous bird-dropping. Mr. Forbes kindly sent me the spider for examination before writing an account of its habits. I immediately 1ecognised its near affinity to an East-Indian spider (Thomisus tuberosus, Bl.), of which I possess the type specimen ; but, unable at the moment to make a thorough examination avd scarch through books and specimens, conjectured that it was allied to some spiders described by Dr. Karsch, and to one sent me some years ago from South Africa. A more complete examination since made has convinced me that these latter species (referred to by Mr. Forbes) belong to entirely different groups. I find, however, in my collection two other spiders, from Ceyion and Bombay, of the same genus and very closely allied in species, but quite distinct from that which Mr. Forbes notes. . Upon these, together with the one last mentioned and Thomisus tuberosus,, Bl., I have ventured to found a _new genus, and I beg to record my thanks to its discoverer for so kindly sending me an example of Thomisus decipiens and for having also made known to us the very peculiar and interesting habits belonging, not only to that spider, but also, I haye little doubt, to other closely allied species.* In his description of the habits of 7! decipiens, Mr. Forbes expresses the difficulty he has in understanding the formation by the spider of a web which, while serving to attach itself to the leaf, at the same time so exactly represents the fluid portion of a bird’s-dropping spread out on the leaf around the more solid parts; and his concluding sentences seem to me to imply the conclusion that the spider consciously supplements the effects of natural selection on its form and resemblance to the solid ex- ereta, by spinning a web to resemble the fluid portion. It seems to me, on the contrary, that the whole is easily explained by the operation of natural selection, without supposing consciousness in the spider in any part of the process. The web spun on the surface of the leaf is evidently, so far as the spider has any design or consciousness in the matter, spun simply to secure itself in the proper position to await and seize its prey. The silk, which by its fineness, whiteness, and close adhesion to the leaf causes it to resemble the more fluid parts of the excreta, would gradually attain those qualities by natural sclection, just as the spider itself would gradually, and probably pari passw, become, under the influence of the same law, more and more like the solid portion. * Doleschall (‘ Tweede Bijdraze tot de Kennis der Arachniden yan den In- dischen Archipel,’ p. 58, pl. xi. figs. 9 and 9a) describes and figures, also from Java, a spider (Thomisus dissimilis, Vol.) possibly of this genus, and perhaps nearly allied to T. decipiens; but the description is too meagre and general to enable any certain conclusion to be drawn from it, an| the figure given of the eyes 1s totally unlike. 120 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS FOU eed a Fam. THomiIsID#.—ORNITHOSCATOIDES. Cephalothorax short, broad, as broad or broader than long, moderately convex above and slightly enone caput short, truncate in front, and strongly compressed on its lateral margins. een nai curved rows, the anterior shortest (the convexity of the enrves directed forwards, and forming a crescent); small, not greatly differing in size, but the four laterals are largest, and the four centrals smallest; those of the lateral pairs are seated on or at the base of tuber- culose eminences. ; Falces strong, not very long, conical, and nearly vertical. Mazille moderately long and strong, a little wider at the top than in the middle; rounded at the top on the outer side, and slightly leaning over the labium, which is about half the length of the maxilla, and of a somewhat oblong form rounded at the apex. Sternum oblong-oval. Legs strong, moderately long, 1, 2, 4,3; those of the first and second pairs much the strongest and longest, but nearly equal in length; those also of the third and fourth pairs are nearly of equal length and strength. All are somewhat roughened or tuberculose, especially those of the first two pairs, and furnished with spines of varied length and strength ; those on the tibie and metatarsi of the two anterior pairs are strongest, the longest forming two parallel longitudinal rows beneath the joints. The legs terminate with two strong, curved, pectinated claws, beneath which is a small claw-tuft. Among the spines are one or two not very long, rather strong, of a pale colour or semi-diaphanous appearance, on the upper sides of the femora; these spines have a peculiar function as observed in one of the species, and may very possibly be of generic value, though spines of various sizes are found similariy situated in many other Thomisid genera, while their speciai function (if any) has not been yet observed, so far as I am aware, in other instances. The palpi terminate with a single pectinated claw. Abdomen broader behind than in front and truncated at both extemities ; the upper surface and hinder part more or less thickly covered with round or subconical, shining, or other tubercular elevations. The spin- ners are short, stout, and closely grouped within a somewhat circular sheath-like cincture much resembling the disposition of those of many Epeirids. ORNITHOSACATOIDES DECIPIENS. Thomisus decipiens, Forbes, P. Z. S. 1888, p. 5&6, pl. LI. Adult femaic, length rather above 63 lines. The general colour of this spider is a hoary or yellowish ashy grey marked with black. The abdomen has a large, somewhat quadrate black patch at the middle of its hinder extremity; on this patch are placed eight shining roundish dark-brown tuberc!es; the fuur largest form a transverse, unequally-sided parallelogram at the fore part of the black peteh ; the other four, which are much the smallest, form a longer trans- verse parallelogram immediately behind the other. At the hinder part also, oa either side of the shining tubercles, are several strong tuberculi- form eminences or prominences, of a similar kind to which are also four small ones in a transverse line at the extreme fore margin ; some other depressed spots or pits are also disposed on the upper surface, with a dark blackish suffused patch at the middle of the anterior extremity, and another on each side just in front of the foremost lateral cminence. IN JAVA, 121 The cephalothorax has a black irregular patch on each side of the hinder part of the thoracic region. The ocular region is somewhat suffused with blackish, and an irregular black, somewhat V-shaped marking indicates the junction of the caput and thorax. The two anterior pairs of legs have some black suffused markings on the upper side of the femora, the fore half (or rather more) of the tibis, the meta- tarsi, and tarsi of those two pairs being almost wholly black; while the two hinder pairs have only an irregular black marking here and there. The spines on the tibize and metatarsi of the first and second pairs of legs are numerous, Icng, strong, and conspicuous. The pale ones (mentioned above) on the upper sides of the femora are used, according to Mr. Forbes’s observations, to secure the spider on its back to a patch of whitish silk spun upon’ the surface of aleaf. When so secured the spider has the exact appearance of the droppings of some bird, and the white silk patch emerging irregularly outside the spider has the appearance of the more liquid portion of the droppings flowing out an l drying on the leaf.* The eyes of cach row respectively are equidistant from each other, but those of the fore-central pair form a shorter line than those of the hind- central pair. The four central eyes form a square whose anterior side is the shortest; and the height of the clypeus, which projects forwards, is nearly about equal to half that of the facial space. The Zeys are, as described in the generic diagnosis, strong and minutely tuberculose, the tibize being of a peculiar bent form. : A single example was found by Mr. Forbes in W. Java, and at a later period a second on the Musi River, Sumatra * Mr. Forbes has, since the above was printed,-remarked to me that in the two * instances which came under his notice, the resemblance extended even to the running down of the fluid excreta towards the lower side of the sloping leaf, ending in a kind of knob. Mr. Forbes also expressly disclaimed the idea of crediting the spider wiih any conscious design, but he says that “the similitude is so exact, that the spider might have had consciousness, and it could not have been more exact if the spider did have it.’ Is not its exactness probably the result of the unconsciousness of the spider? Conscious design would possibly have resulted in failure and abendoning the plan, or at least in a more clumsy imitation. er ba atlas eet a) oy ‘ IN SUMATRA, CHAPTER I. SOJOURN IN THE LAMPONGS—continued. Leave Batavia for Telok-betong—Lampong Bay—Telok-betong—Leave for Gedong-tetahan—l'orest scenery by the way—Escape from a tiger— Flowers in the forest—Gedong-tetahan—Birds and insects there— Move to Kotta-djawa—The village—Ruthless destruction of the forest—'l'rees — Entomological treasures—Move to Gunung ‘l'rang—The pepper trade —Birds there—Interesting butterflies. EMBARKING at Batavia on the morning of the 18th of No- vember, 1880, our course lay westward through the Thousand Islands into the Straits of Sunda, where, rounding the base of the Rajabasa volcano, we steamed up the Lampong Bay, between its scalloped shores girt by high hills—the southern fork of that unbroken chain which, commencing in the north of the island, runs down the western coast, and trifureates before reaching the extremity of the island to form two bays, on the west Kaiser’s Bay, and on the east Lampong Bay. As we steamed under the shade of these peaks, the sun went down tinging the crests on our left with gold, and those on our right with the richest purple. Before we dropped anchor off the little town the full moon had come out; and one ean scarcely say which was fairer, the sun-lit panorama of the day’s sail, or the moon-lit landscape, with the pale, soft light on the hills, whose slopes guided the eye down to the white circle of the shore-line, on which the palm-trees, everywhere dotting its margin, had their crowns transformed into flashing plumes of silver. Telok-betong is the chief town of the Lampong Residency, which forms the most southerly province of Sumatra. Be- sides the Resident and the chief administrative civil officers, the only other European inhabitants were the commandant, a couple of lieutenants, and a surgeon Dr. Machik, an enthusi- astic ichthyologist and conchologist, in charge of a native gar- 10 a= To face Page 325 A Narrenk sts Wandersogs the Eastern Arctipelago” eX SN 3 > ce meee ‘i § Bove net ety Nea solns PENCOOLEN a Pulu Fkaisé SKETCH MAP SOUTH SUMATRA Va ete shewing the Author's route LOK BETONG Route thus —-— ENGLISH MILES o 10 20 30 60 The boundary tine of the Mountains on East & West ts drawn where attain ar elevation of 600 feet, ; Talks below that im. are not tdticated the portion thus shaded (2 indicates alluvial lands. aitude Eastfrom Greatiech Harper & Brothers New York. a senna: 126 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS rison of some 200 men. In addition to the true natives of the town, there was a large campong of Chinese, a few Arabs, with a considerable fluctuating population of traders from Borneo and Celebes, and other islands of the Archipelago. The Buginese or Celebes men are by far the most skilled navigators, antl the greatest traders of them all; Macassar praus being famous throughout the Eastern seas ba their voyages made without compass, yet rarely with mishap, from the eastern coasts of New Guinea to the Indian Ocean in the west, trading in their native-made cloths, in the lovely lories which they bring from east of their own shores, and in the native Macassar oil. The town was, therefore, before its destruction by the terrible earthquake wave of August 1883, inhabited by a rather hete- rogeneous collection of islanders; and, in consequence of each race building their domiciles according to the fashion in their own country, it was very irregular; but what it lost in this respect it gained in picturesqueness. It stood but little above the level of the sea, on a low narrow flat, which intervened between the shore and the very abrupt'y rising hills, on whose slope are situated the Government offices and some of the Euro- pean residences, commanding a most lovely view of the bay. One cannot examine a map of Sumatra without being struck by the singular disposition of the land. Along the whole length of the west coast is found, as already remarked, a long range of mountains with their outliers, while to the east of the Barisan, as this range is named, not a mountain, and scarcely even a hill, is to be seen. The entire eastern portion is one vast plain, of which immense tracts often lie at a time under water—the word Lampong signifies “bobbing on the water.” One may trayel in some parts in a straight line west- ward from the east coast for 150 or 200 miles without reach- ing an elevation of over 400 or 500 feet, while some 30 miles farther the Barisan peaks may ascend to over 10,000 feet. After a short stay in the town, I started for Gedong-tetahan, some twenty miles north, provided by the Resident with a man- date to the chiefs of the varions margas or districts through which my road lay, commanding them to render me every assistance. In Java the traveller has to look out for his own coolies, with whom he makes his own terms as to distance and remuneration, and finds no difficulty in so doing; but here, the IN SUMATRA. 1OF, people being more lethargic, not a single individual would be got to volunteer to work, however tempting the hire, but for a Government enactment, then in force, that the chief of each village be responsible for the conveyance of the baggage of all officials and persons travelling under the authority of the Government from his own village to the next. Where villages lay close together, much time was lost by changing, and as within a considerable radius of the coast they dotted the wayside at every half mile or less, progress was distressingly slow and wearying to the temper as well as to the flesh; for, notwithstanding the order sent forward in advance, the coolies were never on the spot; one had gone to eat, another had gone in search of his knife, without which no one will stir, another had been taken sick gute suddenly, and such as were waiting were ready to swear that the baggage was twice the regulation weight—80 to 90 lbs.—and they would not touch it. Before many of the houses which I passed were spread out drying in the sun large quantities of pepper, what I saw repre- senting alone a sum of money sufficient to feed their whole families for nearly eighteen months. Were cockfighting and gaming not ingrained in them as a second nature, these people might amass great fortunes for their condition of life. Some do, indeed, hoard up considerable sums; but one had only to look on the children and young girls to see where a great deal of it went. very girl is arrayed in sinkels or necklets, of various shapes of heavy silver, few or many, according to the wealth or position of her parents; on their arms rows and rows of bracelets, and in their ears large button-like earrings. These ornaments are the sign of a girl’s maidenhood, and are worn till she marries. The wealth of a Lampong lady is thus estimated by the number and weight of her ornaments, which are, however, fully displayed only on feast days and high occasions. Most of these ornaments are made by native silver- or gold-smiths, and are purchased weight for weight in silver or gold as the case may be. After the first few villages were passed, my road lay mostly between dense forest, extending for miles on both sides of the way. The trees were magnificent in shape and foliage—giant pillars, seventy and eighty feet without a branch, supporting superb leafy crowns under whose shade a thousand men might 128 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS (i EEE pivouae, with trunk and limbs entwined and warped, often even to fatal strangulation, by an impossible unravelment of lianes and huge autor which hung in coils and loops, and stretched from tree to tree for hundreds of yards, themselves adorned as with finely curving scroll work, with ferns and orchids and delicate twining epiphy tes. Beneath this shade a second forest grows of lesser trees, below which again a dense thicket of low ibe and herbs, Caladiums, faci broad-leaved Seita- mine (or Ginger pails) and of horrid thorn- and hook- bearing rattan-palms, climbing and holding on to everything, blocking up every unoccupied space-—the whole forming an impenetrable wall of vegetation. In this same portion of the road, a few weeks later, while returning from the coast, on horseback alone and unarmed, on a pitch dark night, I had a narrow escape from a tiger. My horse suddenly snorted in a strange manner, and came to a dead stop with its feet planted in the ground, then reared back; at the same moment the great body of a tiger shot close past my face and alighted with a heavy thud in the jungle on my other side. Haunted with the idea that I was perhaps being stalked, the night became doubly dismal to me. My horse, a miserable pony at best, was so terror-stricken as to be almost useless, and the seven miles that I traversed before the light of my own dwelling flashed on me seemed the longest I ever rode. Mr. Wallace's truthful works have, or ought to have, now dispelled the erroneous ideas about the wonderful profusion of fine flowers existing in the tropics. This is just one of the products of “ the summer of the world ” that the traveller fails to see unless he search very well and very closely. The great forest trees are too high for cne to be able to see whether they bear either fruit or flowers. It is only on rare occasions—and then the sight repays him for many a weary mile—that he alights on a grand specimen, whose top is a blaze of crimson or gold; more generally he knows that some high tree, which of many it is often very difficult to say, is performing its fune- tions by seeing broken petals or fallen fruit spread over yards and.yards of the ground. Of the great mass of lower vege- tation nothing is seen but green foliage. Hours and hanes sometimes days even, I have traversed a forest-bounded road. IN SUMATRA. 129 without seeing a blossom gay enough to attract admiration; far oftener I have stopped to pluck a gorgeous fruit. A vast amount of tropical vegetation has small inconspicuous flowers of a more or less green colour, so that when they do occur the eye fails to detect them readily. The fresh green, the rich pink, and even scarlet of the opening leaves are beautiful beyond description, and the autumn-tinted foliage never ceases . through ali the seasons, and with so much colour one is quite content to forget the absence of flowers. On the passing traveller, therefore, the vegetation at the lower elevations leaves the impression of a tangled heterogeneous mass of foliage of every shape and shade mingled together in such unutterable confusion, that not one single plant stands out in anything like its own individuality on his mind. Every now and then a curve of the road brought me on a colony of Siamang apes (Scamanga syndactyla), some of them hanging by one arm to a dead branch of a high-fruiting tree with eighty unobstructed feet between them and the ground, making the woods resound with their loud barking howls. The Siamang comes next in size to the Orang-utan, which is the largest of the great apes living in this part of the world, and which is found elsewhere only in the Malacca peninsula, the Orang-utan being confined to Sumatra and Borneo. The Siamang is a very powerful animal when full grown, and has long jet-black glancing hair. In height it stands little over three feet three or four inches, but the stretch of its arms across the chest measures no less than five feet five to six inches, endowing it with a great power of rapid progression among the branches of the trees. Its singular ery is produced by its inflating, through a valve from the windpipe, a large sac extending to its lips and cheeks, situated below the skin of the throat, then suddenly expelling the enclosed air in greater or less jets, so as to produce the singular modulations of its voice. Gedong-tetahan proved a_ very unfavourable hunting ground, as it was surrounded by unprotitable alang-alang fields. Nevertheless, I obtained some interesting birds. Among them I secured the crested bee-eater (Nyctiornis amicta), a beautiful creature with rose-coloured head and a throat of a rich shade of vermilion, which preferred the open 130 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Seen ee wayside trees to the dense forest shade; Rhododytes diardi, one of the cuckoo family, with a light green bill, and velvet scarlet eye-wattle; and green and black barbets, whose peculiar and incessant cries filled the air. In the open paths and sunny roads I netted scarlet Pieridz (Appias nero), often flying in flocks of over a score, exactly matching in colour the fallen leaves, which it was amusing to observe how often they mistook for one of their own fellows at rest, and to watch the futile attentions of an amorous male towards such a leaf moving slightly in the wind. Among the Pieridz, it has been said by Mr. Wallace that the male is as 2 rule more conspicuous than the female; but in this genus Appias—with the exception of alittle more black in the female, the sexes of Appias nero are alike—the female is really, fre- quently, more conspicuously marked, and attracts the eye on the wing quite as readily as the male. Nearly all the species of Callilryas and Catopsilia, as Mr. Butler has pointed out to me in specimens in the British Museum, have the females more conspicuously marked than the males. Hebomoia glaucippe and its allies may be instanced, and the genera Ganoris and Belenois, as for example B. eudoxia and B: theora, in the latter of which only the female has the front wings orange. From Gedong-tatahan I moved a little further west to Kotta- djawa. All along the way crowds of Buceros birds kept con- stantly flying overhead with their peculiar noisy scream and the breeze-like whirr of their wings, while from far in the woods came the softer koo-ow of the Argus pheasants, than which, among all the feathered tribes, scarcely any bird is lovelier. In Sumatra, the Argus occupies the place held in Java by the Peacock —a bird belonging to the same natural family—which seen in its native wildness is unsurpassed for brilliancy of colour and decorative appendages, but its ornamentation is too gaudy for long contemplation; while in the case of the Argus Pheasant one may admire feather by feather, and the same feather again and again, and daily see new beauties. The tail of the peacock is formed by a great development of what is technically known as the upper tail coverts, while that of the Argus pheasant is formed chiefly by an enormous elongation of the two tail quills and of the secondary wing feathers, no two of which are exactly the same; and the closer they are VAMVIG-VLLOY FO HOV TTIIA IN SUMATRA. 131 ee examined, the greater is seen to be the extreme chasteness of their markings, and their rich, varied and harmonious colourin g. When alarmed the Argus escapes by running through ia thick underscrub, when the brillianey of its plumage, by: being gathered close about its body, is quite concealed. Till I had observed it at a later period, I was not aware of its habit of making a large circus, some ten to twelve feet in diameter, in the forest, which it clears of every leaf and twig and branch, till the ground i is perfectly swept and ¢ garnished, On the margin of this circus there is invariably a projecting branch or histeanched root, at a few feet elevation above the ground, on which the female bird takes its place, while in the ring the male-—the male birds alone possess great decoration— shows off allits magnificence for the gratification and pleasure of his consort, and to exalt himself in her eyes. It isa strange fact that when the male bird has been caught—these birds are much trapped by the natives, their excessive shyness making it almost impossible to shoot them—the female in- variably returns to the same circus with a new mate, even if two or three times in succession her lord should be caught. The female bird is rarely caught, owing to her flying to her roost when approaching the circus, while the great winged males walk into the ring, which the native skilfully barricades all round except the one spot where he sets his snare. The houses in Kotta-djawa at first sight looked as if they were all roof and no body, for the broad thatched slopes and gables reached down to within five or six feet from the ground, ‘ where they projected out somewhat horizontally, so as to leave a free space all round the square bamboo or bark-made, box- like, propped-up edifice, in which, protected from sun and rain, most of the rice-stamping and other household operations were performed. In south Sumatra, though rivers abound, and there is much level land, the natives, till very recently, took always their rice crops from forest land, which produces a far less return of grain, of a quality, too, much inferior to sawah (or wet-field) grown corn. To make this dadang the native goes after the virgin forest, leaving his old fields to produce a new crop of trees, if the alang-alang grass does not get the upper hand. ‘The virgin woods contain the really interesting and valu- 1382 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS able vegetation of the country ; these trees being, to a great extent, the lineal descendants of the vegetation that has alwavs existed on the island since it came into its present condition at least. Perhaps indeed some of the aged giants may have actually witnessed the young days of the present eeological eycle. In the virgin forest death and decay are just as rapid as anywhere else ; individual trees are constantly falling out of the ranks, but their place is taken by younger members either of the same or of neighbouring species. When, however, this ancient forest is devastated to any ereat extent, either by natural means or by the woodcutter’s axe, the trees that arise belong to a different lineage, the new wood is in great bulk of different species, which, strange to say, were but rarely to be found in the old forest. As in Java the original forest is rapidly disappearing ; each year sees immense tracts felled for rice fields, more than is actually necessary, and also much wanton destruction by wilful fires. T'rees of the rarest and finest timber are hewed, half burned, and then left to rot; amid their prostrate trunks a couple of harvests are reaped, then the ground is deserted, and soon fills up with the fast-growing and worthless woods, or falls a prey to the ineradicable alang-alang grass. Our children’s children will search in vain in their travels for the old forest trees of which they have read in the books of their grandfathers; and to make their acquaintance, they will have to content themselves with what they can glean from the treasured specimens in various herbaria, which will then be the only remains of the extinct vegetable races. In every clearing, trees, from their gigantic size, have here and there escaped the axe, and been allowed to stand un- molested. One cannot resist a feeling of pity for the solitude of these towering monarchs, whose grandeur, concealed as they stood amid the multitude of their peers, can now be seen in all their stateliness. They look the very picture of strength and immobility ; yet, though they have withstood, in the company of their fellows, the storm and sun of centuries, they survive their solitude but a very few seasons, getting feebler year by year, one great limb after another dying and dropping off, till . all life ceases, when some lightning flash or sudden blast measures their noble stems on the ground. IN SUMATRA. 133 To obtain specimens of the ancient arboreal race was a task siow and difficult of accomplishment ; for but few trees could be felled in one day, and good eyes were required to tell at a height of 150ft. or 200ft. if there were fruit or flower to reward the labour and time spent in the operation; and when, after hard toil, a great tree came crashing down, letting in the sunlight on the damp ground, the beauty of the foliage and of the flowers or fruit was often a rich recompense for the labour. It was a happy thing, that such a giant could not fail to bring to the ground portions of one or more of his neighbours in his downfall, large enough to afford grand specimens. No one could fail to be attracted by the at first unusual sight of trees bearing their blossoms, or fruit, or both, in great profusion on their bare trunks. Of these the oftenest recurring belong to a group producing some of the most beautiful trees and shrubs in the world, the Ternstremacex, or Tea-family, to which the Camellia belongs. The pendent pure white or pink-flushed, golden-centred corollas of the Saurayas, cluster round their trunks, hiding them for twenty or thirty feet of their height, like maypoles busked for a féte. Besides orchids and the Asclepiadacex which contain the wax-plants, or Hoyas, the brightest epiphytes were certainly the species of Aschy- nanthes, many of which have drooping bell-flowers of the deepest scarlet. Zoological prizes had just as diligently to be searched for as botanical trophies ; as in the case of flowers, insects, birds and other animals do not wait, even in the profuse tropics, at every blossom, or on every branch for the collector’s net and the hunter’s gun. In the depths of the virgin forest little life is to be seen ; there, an oppressive silence reigns. One hears occasion- ally only a distant note from some bird or mammal, or the stridu- lating of a cicad on a tree trunk far out of eye-shot, and in the second growth, if these are more abundant as the ear asserts, they are as difficult, from numerous obstacles to sight and progress, to see or secure. The ornithologist and the entomo- logist obtain most of their treasures in the small virgin forest patches in the neighbourhood of villages, in wide shady paths in the great forest, and along sunny walks amid the opened portions of the second growth. I was fortunate in finding a little of all this description of 134 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS country at Kotta-djawa. My favourite resort was the sunny pathways, bordered by second growth forest of some size, where many attractive Mussendas, euphorbiaceous trees and shrubs, and thick clumps of the aromatic and brightly varie- gated Lantana, were always in flower. The Lantana was one of the greatest favourites of most kinds of insects; beetles, bees, and butterflies were always present by scores; and I observed that they visited the different coloured florets quite indiscriminately. Of the last the swallow-tailed species— Papilio brama, theseus, arycles, arjuna, and a lovely black-and-white species which is known as Papilio saturnus —were specially abundant, but difficult to secure, as they were greatly persecuted by all the other species feeding on it—the Pieride and the dragon-flies being their worst enemies. They constantly sailed round and round in a timid way, as if watching for an opportunity to swoop in, but were often so driven off that for half an hour at a time I have seen them unable to make one successful visit. The beautiful tailed Loxuras and Aphnzus were also in abundance, while Hypolymnas anomala frequented the thick jungle, floating out at intervals into the open. “This species offers the most remarkable case known among butterflies of a reversal of the usual sexual colouring, the male being always dull brown and the female glossed with rich blue . . . The brilliant blue gloss causes the female to resemble or mimic Huplea midamus” (Wallace). Mr. Butler has shown me in the British Museum, however, males with nearly as much blue as the females. It is singular that no male of this species is yet known from Jaya. Specimens in the British Museum, named by Mr. Wallace as males of Anomala,are not from Java. Undoubted males from Malacca and Borneo have broad patches of blue towards the border of the front wings. The female Anomala from Java has more blue than the specimens of the same sex from Borneo, and it is not improbable that the Java male may have more blue than the Bornean. What appears to be a female, named Hypolymnas wallaceana by Mr. Butler from ‘ India,’ corresponds with the male H. anomala (of Wallace’s description) in the British Museum from Borneo. The Euplewa which these species mimic is common to Indo-Malasia. From Kotta-djawa I moved further westward to Gunung- IN SUMATRA. 135 Trang, the chief centre of the pepper and dammart trade, where there was more high land and virgin forest. From this village alone in the height of the pepper season more than fifty pony loads go every week to the coast, each carrying 12 piculs, or 219 Amsterdam pounds weight. It is rare that single loads are sent down to the coast, generally a small troop goes to- gether, and the village square presents rather an exciting scene in the early morning of a despatch of cargo. The strong but wofully skinny creatures have, like their masters, little relish for hard work, and conduct themselves in the most refractory manner possible—objecting first of all to be caught, then resenting with teeth and limbs the impost of pack-saddle and bags. When, however, the last cord has been adjusted, after many imprecations and Allah-il-Allahs from the pack-master, they give in to the inevitable with perfect grace, marching off as docilely as possible generally behind a belled leader, and thereafter require little or no attention. The price obtained for this amount of pepper at the coast amounts to about £118, no mean amount per week (during the season) for a small village, whose only outlay consists in the cost of food and the Government tax of one guilder per head. It takes seven or eight years for a new pepper garden to reach maturity, but when it is in full bearing, each shrub will yield as much as 10s. 8d. worth of fruit in a season. The other great industry of the place is dammar collecting. This substance, as is well known, is the resin which exudes from notches made in various species of coniferous and dipterocarpous trees. Some of these, especially of the latter family, are immense giants, out of whose stem—which often reaches 100 feet before branching—the native cuts large notches, at intervals of a few feet, up to a height of some forty or fifty feet from the ground. The tree is then left for three or four months, when, if it be a very healthy one, sut- ficient dammar will have exuded to make it worth collecting ; the yield may then be as much as ninety-four Amsterdam pounds. Most trees, however, exude a far less quantity and require a longer time. The damar attam (from the H pea dryobalanotdes and other Dipterocarpex, and not from the Dammara (Conifere) ), a beau- tiful clear glass-like substance —the “eye dammar,” as_ the 136 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS native name signifies—is the most prized, and fetches about two guineas for 125 Amsterdam pounds. ‘The greater part of this goes to the European market, to be made into varnishes principally, and is purchased at the coast by the Chinese traders, who in turn carry it to Batayia and Singapore to resell it. A much inferior sort called “stone-dammar” got from Vatica eximia, also one of the Dipterocarpeex, is worth about 9s. 6d. only per 125 Amsterdam pounds, and is purchased at the coast by the Bugis from Celebes and the Bawean men from near Borneo, to be used by the native prau-builders to fill up seams and leaks. The thick, close, tough bark of the tree, however, is a much more valuable commodity, for, as it can be stripped off in immense sheets, it is greatly used instead of planks or the more open bamboo wickerwork, as sides for their houses, and is an excellent substitute. The native distinguishes his pepper shrubs and his dammar trees from all other sorts by the expressive title of pohone wang, or money trees. The pepper (calamitously, he holds,) does not grow wild in the forest in any way suitable to his desire, but must be planted and tended. ‘The dammar requires no such care; and as he roams the forest, to his eager eye no tree, shrub, or herb has the slightest interest if it is not an unclaimed pohone wang. He has not sufficient interest in those who are to come after him two generations hence—just as his forefathers before him had none—to plant a dammar- yielding arboretum; he prefers to spend days in hunting the forest in their quest. When he has fallen on such a prize—now to be found only in the dense forest far from any dwelling-place—he at once proceeds to clear off from under it the surrounding vegetation, and to make several deep hacks or distinctive marks as the sign of appropriation. It is then safe; for it is in their code of honour to respect such a tree, not from any high moral principle, but from the more interested reason—lest, if to-day he robs his neighbour’s dammar, he himself, who may to- morrow be the lucky finder of perhaps several richer trees, may in like manner be robbed. ‘There exists also the inherited superstitious dread of some unknown evil to follow; for perchance the finder has hedged his property by the sanctity of a spell, the violation of which, will, sooner or a IN SUMATRA. 137 later, it is believed, be followed by the visitation of a sétan in the form ofa sickness or misfortune. If a sétan be supposed to reside in any spot, not an individual will be found brave enough to approach it, however great profit might accrue to the venturer. In these forests I added to my collection some of the fairest of the feathered tribes—orange and scarlet-crested woodpeckers, green barbets, blue and bronze doves, green and scarlet twitter- ing Loriculi ; and on dead snags of the lonely outliers large hawks and falcons. Of mammalian animals my most interesting capture was the Sciuropterus, a flying squirrel with large gentle lemur-like eyes, soft fur, and black margined parachute expansions. The neighbourhood of this village I found to be an excellent locality for butterflies; for there were abundance of paths among second-growth forests, many open clumps of flowering shrubs, and hot sandy and pebbly banks along a broad and shallow stream unobstructed by bushes, sunny corners, and shady nooks innumerable. Almost every: walk I took is indelibly and most delightfully memorable by the finding of some gay or remarkable form. Especially numerous were those interesting species, which have the gift of the slippers of invisibility to rescue them in dangerous moments. I'requent- ing the dense thickets they would flit out into more open spots, displaying for a few seconds the rich brillianey of the cobalt of the upper sides of their wings, then settling either on a dry leaf, or more commonly on the ground among fallen foliage and twigs, whose colour, exactly matching their closed wings, concealed them beyond power of detection. Of these I obtained Amathusia amethystus, Coelites epiminthia, C. eupty- chioides and Kurytela castelnaui. Few butterflies can compare with another of my captures here, the Amblypodia ewmolpus, the upper sides of whose wings are of the most sparkling emerald. A less brilliant but very chaste species of Cyrestes (C. periander) fell also to my lot only after great difficulty, for it loves the dense thickets, flitting with short flights from the under side of one leaf to the under side of another, where, spreading itself flat out, 1t disappears and is not easy to find. If with my hunters I sat down for a rest in an open sunny spot after a hot chase, we 138 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS were often the centre of attraction for quite a flock of a very beautiful large butterfly, Huplea ochsenheimert, which would fearlessly rest on their naked bodies and on my sweating hands, whence they allowed themselves to be captured be- tween the fingers in the easiest manner possible. Another butterfly also, the Cynthia juliana, was often caught at the sweating bodies of the natives. IN SUMATRA, 139 CHAPTER II. SOJOURN IN THE LAMPONGS—continued. Move towards the Tengamus Mountain—Butterflies found on the journey thither—Tiohmomon—The Balai, a characteristic institution—Descent of the Lampongers—Their Language—Divisions of the province—Titles and dignities — Ornaments — Festivities and amusements — Marriage customs—Move to Penanggungan—Petroleum and paraffin matches— Penanggungan — Great trees— Interesting plants and animals —'The Siamang—Move to Terratas—Ascent of the Tengamus Mountain—Its flora and fauna—Retirn to Penanggungan and to Batavia. In the middle of August I moved my camp north-westwards to the village uf Penanggungan towards the high peak of the Tengamus at the top of the Semangka Bay. I followed a native forest path, reported to be good, but which turned out to be an execrable tunnel through a grove of low rattan-palms, whose delicate but unbreakable tendrils, hanging down on all sides, studded with the sharpest and most unrelenting hooks, were ever suddenly fetching me up by a lasso round my neck or body from which no amount of ill-natured tugging or pulling would avail to relieve me, and from whose thorny grapnels I could release myself only by yielding, and stepping calmly backwards. Here an immense tree-trunk, six or seven feet in diameter, lay athwart the path; there a gigantic mud bath, the wallowing hole of a herd of elephants, in which my porters sank to the waist and sometimes to the armpits. On the way I netted a large Ornithoptera (O. amphrysus), and the first known female of Amesia juvenis, a day-tlying moth which mimics Trepsichrois mulciber, while by the margin of a small stream I caught Leptocireus virescens, which derives protection from mimicking the habits and the appearance of a dragon-fly, in a crowd of which it is often to be found. In form it reminded me of the European genus Nemoptera. It flits over the top of the water fluttering its tails, jerking up and down just as dragon-flies do when flicking the water with the 140 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS tip of their abdomens. When it settles on the ground, it is difficult to see, as it vibrates in constant motion its tail and wings, so that a mere haze, as it were, exists where it rests. Emerging from this forest, I found myself in Tiohmomon, a typical Lampong village, in a district which had been in- habited for many generations. The houses were all substan- tially built of planks, with, in many cases, carved decorations on the cross beams, and painted designs on the intermediate panels. The Balai is the most—we might almost say the only— peculiar and characteristic institution of the Lampongers. It is always the largest and most prominent edifice in the village, situated apart from all others, and in the most central position. It stands eight or ten feet from the groun(, on massive pillars formed of great tree-stems, and is built generally of planks of wood, or of bamboo wicker-work. It is evident that much labour has been bestowed on it, for, as a rule, it indi- cates the highest available workmanship, as it is the result of the combined labour of the whole community. It is lofty, and roofed either with thatch of grass or rattan-palm leaves, or covered with wood or bamboo “slates,” according to the fashion of roofing in vogue in the village. It is fairly well lighted, but the light, as a rule, is admitted only by the latticed gables, and by long slits and small windows a few feet above the level of the floor, more suitable, of course, to the squatting native than to a European sitting on a chair. Two doors, reached by strong bamboo ladders, or well-made wooden stairs, and situated one at each end of the building, either in the gables or in the sides, afford ingress and egress. At one end within a small inclosure is a cooking place—a deep layer of earth on which the fire rests. The Balai is in reality the town-hall of the Lamponger. It is the common property of every man, woman, and child in the village. In Mahomedan lands a man’s house is sacred ; fora man rarely enters the dwelling of his neighbour, and never without the head of the house ; but the Balai is the assembly- room—the meeting place for all. Its doors stand ever open. All business is transacted under its roof; all bitjaras (consul- tations and discussions) are held there. At whatever hour one enters, its most characteristic occupants, lazy, sleeping IN SUMATRA. 141 villagers, are to be seen dotted over its floor. During the day, the orang-jaga, or watchman, who occupies an open guard- room during the night, makes the Balai his watch-tower, All travellers passing through the village are free to its shade and shelter. The orang-bedagang, or itinerant pedlar, finds at once a free lodging, a market-place for his goods, and an eager crowd to listen to the news he brings. Here all civic feasts and festive gatherings are held. Here they enjoy the pleasures of the dance for unbroken days and nights together. This being truthfully explained, means that the seated youths behold with delighted eyes the peculiar and monotonous posture figures, supposed to be elegant and most bewitching, of the ornament-bedizened maidens performing two and two at a time to the clanging and clamour of gong and drum, and that the maidens in their turn have the privilege of gazing on their future lords going through the same performance. Under its roof, their love is consummated in the wedding and attendant ceremonies. Here, before a crowded audience, they are invested with their equivalent knighthoods and peer- ages; and here, in many villages, they are at last laid out, and pass from it to the grave. Around the Balai, therefore, centres, as it were, the whole life of a Lampong village. The Lampongers claim to be descended from the Malays of Menangkabanu (a district in the Padang region of Sumatra’s West coast), where it is believed the first conquerors of the island established their kingdom, whence they spread to the northern central portion, and thence along the west and southern coasts, of what is now the Lampong Residency, at first, slowly by families and small communities, which agglomerated into separate margas with their chiefs. The dialect spoken in the Lampongs “appears to be an original tongue, with one-third of its words of unknown origin.” * I am doubtful how far this will be borne out by its closer study. It contains a very large number of corrupted Malay and Sundanese words; but the written symbols are pecu- liar to Sumatra. In Java, where Malay (met with in the coast towns), Sundanese (spoken only in the west of Java and supposed to be a distinct language), and Javanese are the spoken languages, Arabic is employed for expressing * Stanford’s Compendium of Geography, Australasia, Appendix. 11 142 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS in writing both Malay and Sundanese, and the beautiful, interesting well-known Javan symbols for its own language. The Lampong characters have no resemblance to either of them, but Mr. Keane holds that they are based on the Devana- gari, as he affirms the Javanese to be also. The letters of which a specimen is given on the opposite page are mostly either horizontal lines, or lines meeting each other at acute angles, with marks and dots above and below the line, to form nineteen characters, representing the sounds ka, ga, gna, pa, ba, ma, ta, da, na, tya, dya, nya, ya, a, la, ra, sa, wa, cha (rough). Marks and hooks above and below the letters are used to indicate the vowel sounds and the addition of n and ng, and a sign to indicate the dropping of the final vocable, so as to express the consonant, as “Ka tanda mat” (“dead sign”) in- dicates K. At first, with only a native teacher, scarcely half of whose discourse I could comprehend, the acquisition of the language seemed very difficult; but, having the key given, it was far easier to acquire than it looked. The margas are the old native districts (one might almost call them regencies) into which the country was originally divided, each owning its own independence. The Govern- ment, in parcelling out the country for administrative pur- poses, has retained as much as possible the boundaries of the marea intact, as each had often its own peculiar customs, to which the people adhere with hereditary tenacity. In the old days each marga, and possibly each kampong (village) had a copy of its oondang-oondang, or laws, written on bamboo-stems, or on lontar (Borassus) palm leaves, which were preserved as heirlooms from generation to generation, till eaten up by a small boring beetle—which can in a very short time reduce the stoutest bamboo to powder if it is not looked after—or till destroyed in the fires by which every village has been periodi- cally wiped out, when it would be reinscribed from the memory of some old villager, and again transmitted. In very rare cases only would the bamboo record be applied to, for in every vil- lage there was always some one, as now, who knew its con- tents with perfect accuracy, to whom it had been taught when a child by his father, as he in like manner had been taught by his; so that when a case arose in which the adat (custom) was in question, recourse would be had to the living repository, as oe A oe pe len a ae a eee Cae ; ee a Bae ete Se OE Fa iS Bega on ee eo Re ee ee : ae Of SiMe Kee ae omen & Ce eee Pe = 658 E ; a = ras. RE REELS KES KRG a JPAR AGS os “3 x os en 353 eS De 7" 4S 4 ee —- act LAMPONG CHARACTERS: AN ILLUSTRATED PAGE FROM A NATIYVE-WRITTEN ROMANCE. IN SUMATRA. 143 the quickest means of settling the point; for their reading, like their act of inscribing, was, even as now, a painfully slow and difficult affair to the most learned. Now-a-days these interest- ing relics are very rare, and almost impossible to procure. Each marga, as a rule, has in it several villages, each with a chief. Each village community is a collection of families, either related or not to each other by the ties of blood—con- sisting of the original family or nucleus of the village and those descended from it, and of the companies of immigrants who have come from different places, and at different times, with their descendants. Each of these companies, or families, was called a suku, and each selected one of their number to represent them in all matters affecting their interests. So then a village community consisted, and still more or less completely consists, of several sukus, each with its head, all subject to the village chief, who would, in the first instance, be the representative of the first swkw or nucleus of the village, and thereafter, if that representative left no heirs, the person on whom the choice of the swkus might fall. A trivial cause of dispute in a sukwu would be brought before the chief of the suku, associated with some of its old men from whom an appeal might lie to the head of the village with one or more of the Kapala sukus. A case in which more than one sukw was concerned would come before the village chief, sitting with the uninterested Kapala sukus. ,An appeal from this village court might be made to the chief of the marga, possibly along with the village chiefs of the marga, beyond which, of course, it could not in past days go. ‘This court also exercised jurisdiction in cases of inter-village disputes. A marga was therefore a little independent principality, or rather elan, whose boundaries were the limits claimed by the first immigrants to the place; and seems to have been at first ruled by him among the settlers who was most influential or of the closest biood relationship with the chiefs or princes of Menang- kabau giving them the right to the title of Penyimbang. The highest Peny ee within the boundaries ruled over the marga; then in each village the highest ranked was chief of the filles and the next ae him boone chiefs of the village sections. The Penyimbang need not of necessity become chiet of this village or marga; he could delegate his authority to 144 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS another, but still his voice, in all matters where he chose to exercise it, had pre-eminence. The Penyimbangs constituted a hereditary nobility, which exercised great influence; and if I have understood the narratives of those old chiefs with whom [ have talked, they were nearly all of equal rank. No one could be raised de novo to the honour of a Penyimbang without the consent of all the Penyimbangs in his marga. When this was obtained he was called out, by the Marga chief, amid the accla- mations of the people convened in full assembly in the Balai of the capital of the marga, before whom the services entitling him to the honour and showing him to be a “ fit and proper” person to be so endued were proclaimed, to take his place on the raised benches occupied by the nobility. The new peer was then bound to kill in honour of the occasion, a number of buffaloes, according to the degree of his rank, sometimes as many as ninety, and give a great feast, as well as bestow a present on each of his brother Penyimbangs. As margas increased in number, so their boundaries became eternal subjects of dispute, referred as a rule to the arbitra- ment of war. Now, as the Sunda Strait alone separated the south eastern extremity of Sumatra from Bantam (which, until abolished by the Dutch Government in 1811, was,a flourishing kingdom under powerful Sultans), a rich trade in rice, pepper, and pottery, at length sprang up between the Bantamese traders and the Lampongers. Whether the former intro- duced the cultivation of pepper into the Lampongs, or found these settlers already acquainted with the culture, _ is doubtful; but it is certain that at an early date rich spice gardens flourished in southern Sumatra. Every year the Sultan sent across a fine prau laden with all sorts of earthen- ware, an art then unknown to the Lampongers, with a letter full of compliments and good wishes, which was publicly read on a day when all the Penyimbangs had assembled, to which they returned a complimentary reply with gifts of pepper and elephants’ tusks; so trade gradually increased, and with it the power and influence of the Sultan, whose aid in these intermargal disputes, either by mediation or more practi- cally, was often besought. Grateful chiefs sent in return rich presents of ivory and pepper, with acknowledgments of his influence, till gradually the Sultan’s protection was IN SUMATRA. 145 extended over the greater part of the Lampongs in return for a yearly tribute. Special services were acknowledged by the bestowal of titles and dignities. These honours and ranks were hereditary, and were at first conferred directly by the Sultan; but afterwards they could be purchased, with the assent of the other peers of the marga, from a hereditary Right-holder, by such as were of faultless “name and fame.” A pangkat, or title, was just as dear to the heart of a Lam- ponger as now to his European brother, and assiduously did he labour to hoard up the necessary sum, and cultivate by presents the good will of the Penyimbangs, in order that he might some day have the pride of occupying one of the seats of honour at marriage feasts and on gala days, almost the only occasions on which the happy possessor of a pangkat could be distinguished from his fellows. The Order of the Pepadon was the highest conferred by the Sultan. The Pepadon was a great wooden chair, with a high back richly carved, and stood in the Balai. The honour consisted in occupying this seat at feasts and high occasions before the assembled marga, while the Penyimbangs of lesser rank occupied lower seats to right and left. On grand days the Pepadon was often overlaid with gold and silver plates, lent for the occasion by the people of the marga. On his first installation to the Order the new noble was drawn on a wooden car from his house to the Balai, and if he were of old family it was shaded by a yellow or white canopy. If within a marga a person be found murdered, and the murderer cannot be discovered, the whole marga must pay to the relatives a sum of money according to his rank, as an expiation. On this acezount all travellers are saluted with, “ Where to, master?” and “ Where from, master?” “ Where did you spend last night?” that there may be some clue as to his whereabouts should he go a-missing; and of the people among whom he was last seen alive, in order, if possible, to saddle some village with the crime. The Order of the Pepadon gave the possessor and his relatives the right, if murdered, to a higher sum of blood- money than any one else. Not only this; for his daughters he could demand a sum (djudjur) from the man claiming her hand four times as great as from a man who had no rank. 146 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS The next lower rank consisted in the privilege of sitting in the Balai on state occasions against a wooden pillar, called the Sesako. It entitled the relatives of its possessor to a sum of blood-money less only than could be demanded by those of members of the Order of the Pepadon, and a like proportionate djudjur for his daughter’s hand. Should he be afterwards elevated to the rank of the Pepadon, the Sesako was nailed to the back of the Pepadon. The Lawang Koree, or “honour-door,” the third rank, was a gateway of carved wood or stone which was erected near to the dwelling of the holder. On women of ancient family and of high rank certain honours were also bestowed. They were entitled to be borne to the Balai on great occasions on a state car; but the right to be carried with the foot resting on the body of a man as a footstool belonged to the most high-born alone. Women of less distinguished birth could come walking on variously adorned mats spread before them by their slaves. In a full assembly of the marga on a high occasion, the foremost places are occupied by the Penyimbangs of various orders. In a line fronting the Penyimbangs sit all the budjangs, or .unmarried youths, facing a row of young maidens. The sight is a gay one. All are in their best attire, the general crowd in whatever garments please their fancy most, but generally of the gayest colours of coats and headcloths, and sarongs suspended by large silver- and gold-buckled belts, with ivory- and gold-handled krisses stuck in the waist; the women—for those that stand round have all been married—more sombrely, wearing the matri- monial symbol, the sulung, a necklet of massive gold or silver rings strung immovably, except for a little piece in front, on a cylinder of the same metal, and the thick stud-like earrings, the only ornaments that their severe laws permit to those who have known the bonds of wedlock. Here and there among the crowd a crownless boat-shaped hat, made of cardboard, and bound round with a gold plate, indicates that its wearer is a childless wife. The young unmarried men are simply attired in a sarong of a bright colour, supported by a belt fastened by a buckle of greater or less value according to his rank, with the corresponding number of krisses stuck in it, IN SUMATRA. 147 and with a headcloth tied about his temples in the fashion of his district ; but from the waist upwards naked. The. centre of attraction is the long line of maidenhood, glittering in silver and gold of native workmanship. The hair of each girl, neatly arranged and odoriferous from abun- dance of cocoa-nut and cajeput oil, is tied in a knot behind and transfixed by a high-backed comb overlaid with gold plates ; her head is crowned with a coronet (seqgar) of gold, of form and magnificence according to her pangkat; a shawl worn sash-wise hangs from the shoulder to the ground, while from above the middle hangs a rich sarong, or petticoat, of home-grown and spun silk, interwoven with gold thread, and decorated with hundreds of small coins of the Dutch mint, which jingle pleasingly 4s she dances. Above this the body is girt with a silk slendang, half concealing the breasts. The arms, shoulders, and chest are bare, except: for the nume- rous gold or silver collars and necklets and_ bracelets, of patterns peculiar to her marga, with which she is loaded. Often these collars are entirely composed of the large dollar pieces of Spain, Holland, and Mexico, and of English half- crowns. Of the highest-born maidens, the arms from the wrist to the elbow are almost concealed by the display of pure “barbaric gold,” for they may wear as many bracelets as they choose; while their sisters less fortunate in the matter of blood and rank must conform to the regulation number cor- responding to their degree. The breast is overlaid with crescent-shaped gold plates, suspended in tiers; the waist is encircled by a belt of one of the precious metals secured by an elaborately-carved buckle of the same material. The rather bony fingers are encircled with many rings, and even the uails are lengthened by additions of silver into talon-like claws; so that altogether the Lampong maiden presents a dazzling appearance in the dim uncertain light of a lamplit Balai. The cost of such a costume represents no mean sum ; it is not uncommon for a girl to have as much as £100 worth of ornaments about her person at a festival. When all is ready, the ever monotonous music commences, and the Master of the Ceremonies, whose place is between the two lines, at a signal from the chief calls—and his directions must be implicitly obeyed—on two of the maidens to dance. 148 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS His office is both a delicate and a difficult one. He must himself be of good position in the community, and be more or less a general favourite; but especially must he be intimately acquainted with the social position and rank of all present ; for should he unwittingly call on two maidens or two youths of different ranks to dance together he will have committed a mistake which has many a time turned the festival into a fight, for the parents or the relatives of the higher-ranked of the dancers, feeling themselves insulted, have suddenly revenged themselves by amok—that mode of retribution which is to them the swiftest and most gratifying ; the first victim being generally the unfortunate Master of the Ceremonies himself. The daughter of a low Penyimbang’used to have the right to have one girl attendant behind her, with a young man to hold a white umbrella over her head; but a maiden of the highest rank was entitled toas many as six attendants, and to be shaded by a silk umbrella, gaily ornamented with flowers and gold-leaf, which, when she was not dancing, lay folded in front of her, by the side of a cushion on which her rank entitled her to place her fans. The daughters of villagers without pangkat danced in the best they could afford, but unattended and unshaded. The high-born youth was distinguished by the number and gorgeousness of his krisses, and further by the number of youths prostrate on the ground before him, on whom he placed his foot as a sign of his authority. ‘These customs have now been greatly modified, as the attendants on the high born were in former days their slaves (and slavery has been for many years abolished by the Government), and where they now appear they are paid servants, or relatives or friends who haye volunteered to take for the oceasion the place of the slaves of former days. White was the sign of nobility, which alone those of high pangkat could use, all others being obliged to wear cloth of a dark colour. Blue remains even now when all restrictions have been removed by law, the commonest colour of garments worn by the people ; but even yet the sight of white in one of low rank incites envy or enmity. The Magistrate of one of the districts informed me of a case he had shortly had before him, in which the complainant had the white umbrella he was IN SUMATRA. 149 earrying snatched from him and broken before his face. The accused pleaded, an excuse which he thought sufficient, that his neighbour had no right to an umbrella of that colour, as he was a man of no pangkat. Even in their houses, till recent times, only chiefs had the right to sleep on a mattress, or have it protected by curtains, every one else being obliged to sleep on a mat laid on the floor. The performers called on by the Master of the Ceremonies come forward and seating themselves in the open space, perform towards the chiefs and the assembled company with graceful respect the sembah, a form of obeisance made by placing the hands together and bringing them to the forehead at the mo- ment of inclining the head. Hach maiden has a fan in both hands, which she holds by fixing them before and behind alter- nate fingers, and the performance, which consists in posturing the arms and hands, and but little in the movement of the feet which really scarcely stir out of the spot, can hardly be denominated dancing. ‘The various attitudes assumed are few and not very elegant, and, after being repeated to all sides, they are ended by the danseuse gradually sinking down to the sitting position, sembahing to the company, and resuming her seat among her fellows, when her place is taken by any two youths whom the Ceremony-Master may call on, who go through much the same performance in a less elegant manner. Inter- vals in the dancing are filled up by the singing of love songs by the young men, which are responded to by the maidens, often in extempore verses, which are generally scratched with needles on pieces of bamboo, and passed to their sweet- hearts through the hands of the Master of the Ceremonies to be preserved by them as valuable keepsakes. Such festivals mostly last through a whole night; but on great occasions often for several days and nights together. When the festival lasts several days the forenoons are given up to feasting, the early afternoons to sleep and talk, and during the latter part the youth engage in the middle of the village square in a game of ball called “simpak,” in which they vie with each other before the maidens, as well as the general public—who congregate in the shade of the eaves of the surrounding houses as spectators and admirers—in the display of the proficiency and elegance of their movements. 150 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS The game consists in the young men, who dispose themselves in circles of as many as twenty, keeping in the air a large hollow sphere, made of rattan cords neatly twisted together, by kicking it only with the side of the foot as it descends— touching with any other part of the body being .out of rule. In dealing the kick, the limb is swung out with great vigour almost perpendicularly, while the body is thrown back nearly to the horizontal position, and the beauty of the play consists, besides keeping the ball continually in the air from player to player, in the elegant leap with which the body is brought back to the erect posture without the player changing his foot-ground ; and the more elegant these movements—and really very elegant they are—the greater favour and applause the player wins among his female spectators. On tiring of this, various couples engage in a species of dance—the relic of a war dance—full of spirited action, and of a character quite different from that to which the nights are devoted. When in the small hours of the morning the finale of such a festival takes place, the maidens are escorted home by the young men, who flank their wards, each bearing a great flaming torch, which now reflected in the water of some wide stream which must be crossed, now blinking through the trees of some forest-skirted path produces a most pleasing effect as the various parties wend their different ways from the village. Their homegoings end—in what land do they not ?—in the old tale. He who has long spent his evenings by the rice block—a large heavy log of wood, with a conical hole init, in which the rice corns are husked by being stamped by a long pole—admiring, as well as assisting, the maiden of his choice in her work, (which displays more than any other employment the grace and beauty of the female figure,) is at length rewarded. The sign of engagement is often a ring, but more generally the youth and the maiden exchange some portion of their garments. As a rule the engagement is kept secret from the parents ill near the time when the youth desires to marry. When he goes to the parents of the girl his real difficulties begin. A daughter is so much property, and cannot be lightly allowed to leave her father’s roof without fetching an equiva- IN SUMATRA. 151 lent. The Government has now enacted that all marriages shall be without let or consideration, between “him who will with her who will,” but the system of djudjur (or price to be paid for a wife), sanctified by generations of custom, it is almost impossible to prevent, as when a fair sum is not paid, the girl’s father can always raise insurmountable diffi- culties, so that, in fact, the djudjur is almost invariably paid, and is in amount according to the status of the youth, and of the parents of the bride. When this has been (sub rosa, of course) satisfactorily arranged, the parents of the youth and of the girl must appear before the chief of the village (if they belong to the same village, or to both chiefs if the parties belong to different villages) to give official information that their children wish to marry. This is the hatrangan (trang, is clear) of the affair; it is, in fact, the publication of the banns. After this has taken place, it is legal for the parents to receive a small fixed gift (marriage gold, as it is called), but any demand for a greater sum is penal. The system of djudjur has acted, and still acts, very detri- mentally on the population, for, as a rule, the sum demanded by a father for his daughter’s hand is so great that many young men cannot afford to marry ; and as children born out of wedlock are from of old considered to be a stigma on the village, the people have increased but little in number. Of course if a youth should complain to the magistrate that he cannot marry the girl of his choice on account of the large sum demanded by her father, the magistrate would at once interfere ; but it is very rare that any complaint is made, the youth preferring to pay the djudjur, beaten down to the lowest figure possible. If, however, the youth chooses he may marry the girl in the manner known as “ambil anak ” (literally, “taking a child”), in which ease the father of the girl receives the husband into his house as one of his children, bound to labour in her place, for him absolutely. In effect, by this form of marriage, the husband becomes the ’ slave of his wife; he is bound to do all that she may demand, and, should he rue his bargain and obtain a divoree, the children of the union remain with her, and he goes out as he came into the house—portionless. It always remains open to him, however, should he fall heir to any property, to pay the 152 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS djudjur and remove his wife to a home of his own. If a man have a larger family of daughters than of sons, it is very customary for the eldest son to bring a wife to his father’s house, but for the rest of the sons to go to the houses of their mothers-in-law, and for the daughters either to bring their husbands to their mother’s house also, in order that her parents may reap the benefit of their labour, or to migrate to their husbands’ homes. Where a man’s only child is a daughter, marriage is almost always by “ambil anak.” With the richer members of the community it is a matter of pride to pay djudjur for their wives. When no agreement can be come to about the djudjur between the youth and the parents of the girl, the two often elope together to the man’s village (if they belong to different villages, or to another village if they be of the same village), in which she is placed in the house of his father, but, if she is of higher rank than himself, in the house of the head of the village. The father of the girl pursues with an armed following, and, being met at the entrance of the village by a like force, a fight (nowadays a shain fight) takes place in front of the Balai, in which the father of the maiden allows himself to be overcome, whereupon an adjournment is made within the building, and matters are amicably settled, the day ending with football, dancing, cock-fighting, and festivities. Their marriage ceremony fol- lows the Mahomedan rites. From ‘Tiohmomon I continued my way to Penanggungun. I was greatly surprised to see, even in the smallest villages, the universal use of two articles of western civilisation— petroleum oil and paraffin matches. There was scarcely a dwelling in a village of even eight to ten houses in this out-of-the-way corner of the world in which this oil was not the illuminating medium; if there was not in the house another article of western origin, there was a lamp, often of a most elegant and costly pattern, of gilt brass, and complete with wheel and pulley apparatus. I daily saw packhorses laden with De Voe’s well-known boxes passing through the villages to more distant places, Nearly every native, too, produces from a fold of his cotton kilt, or his head- cloth, when he wants “fire,” one of the little yellow-papered chip boxes, with “Patent paraffinerade sakerhets tandstikor IN SUMATRA. 153 utan svafvel och fosfor,” which arrive in these parts from Sweden—if not also from the “ fabriks”’ of swindling China- men in Singapore—by the hundred thousand. There is scarcely a western article but the Chinamen haye introduced its counterfeit here, sometimes with such wonder- ful ingenuity that, even when anathematising them, one cannot help feeling a sort of respect for their perseverance and assi- duity even in evil doing. ‘This broad dissemination of tind- stickors has driven into oblivion the savage’s picturesque friction block. He strikes his match on the box and lights his cigarette at the flame, guarding it from wind between his half-closed’ hands, as if he were a native of the Isles of the Blest. Though one is certainly pleased enough to have those commodities ready to one’s hand, yet it is decidedly disap- pointing not to be able to outrun civilisation ; one would fain see “some new thing,” some strange artifice or curious custom. To the ethnographical student, the latest Paris designs in the furniture of a Polynesian or New Guinean hut must be extremely interesting and edifying ! Penanggungan was quite an embryo village in the middle of a fresh clearing: in a piece of very ancient forest, and conse- quently a rich botanical hunting-ground. In its near vicinity grew one of the grandest Urostigma trees I have ever seen ; its broad buttresses and sturdy supporters, among which a wanderer might almost lose himself, looking like the pillars of some ancient Moorish temple. It was thick in fruit, and harboured legions of skipping squirrels, great apes, and troops of monkeys, which, to the eye surveying them from below, looked like pigmies flitting about amid its branches. Immense flocks of the large fruit-pigeons, and of the smaller members of that numerous and beautiful family, crowded to this rendezvous, their wings keeping up a constant whirring in the air by their coming and going; scores of the great hornbill (Buceros galeatus) with their five-feet expanse of wing, and myriads of smaller birds whose yaried calls and notes alone indicated their presence, flocked from far and near to this inexhaustible storehouse (and its produce could not be less than tens of thousands of bushels of’ figs), and yet the vast assemblage but sparsely peopled this single magnificent specimen of the vegetable kingdom. 154 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Here also I gathered a splendid orchid (Galeola sp.) grow- ing on damp rotting tree-trunks, climbing over the low forest, singular in producing no foliage but putting forth a stem pro- fusely flowering at short nodes for forty feet in length, with blossoms of a rich yellow colour. In the depths of the forest I found the large Raffiesia arnoldi and Hasseltii, and the smaller but handsomer Brugmansia Low. On the giant Urostigma I shot several specimens of Bucerotide, the white-crested -Hydrocisa albirostris, and the great hornbill (Buceros galeatus), whose heavy scarlet hammer- fronted casque, which it uses to beat with far-resounding thuds the branches of the trees, draws upon it a severe perse- cution, as in Palembang each head commands a large price, for out of its dense white ivory-like consolidated horn, are manufactured studs and sleeve-links of great beauty. The casque in most species of this family is a cancellated structure permeated by blood-vessels so teased out as to give it great lightness, that it is difficult to understand why in this species it should be so solid and heavy ; yet, notwithstanding, no bird could flit about more lightly in the tree-tops, or gather its food more agilely. In a longitudinal section of the head and casque of this bird, the thick horny hammering por- tion, as well seen in the figure opposite, has behind it a layer of dense bone to which osseous bars radiate towards the occipital condyle, where the head joins with the neck, and pass above and around the brain cavity, to protect it in a most beautiful way from shock. The brain cavity is thus lodged below the line of shock, and is besides separated from the casque by padding in the shape of a cartilaginous joint. To Professor Flower I am indebted for directing my attention to the beautiful section in the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons sketched here, whose structure had indeed led him to infer, before he knew the fact, that the bird must use its head as a hammering instrument. Ina neighbouring stream, flitting from stone to stone, I obtained the lively Hydrocichla ignicapilius, a bird in habit and colour closely resembling the true wagtails; and on its banks the horned frogs (Megalophrys nasuta) were abundant, whose anyil-like clinking “ kang-kang ” filled the air in the evenings; but, in simulating so closely the dead leaves among IN SUMATRA, 155 which they lay, it required the closest search to find them. Lying flat on the ground, their sharp acute horns mimicked the points of leaves, from which lines radiated representing crossing and overlapping margins, while dark-brown spots and HEAD OF BUCEROS, AND SECTION OF ITS CRANIUM. markings distributed over their bodies could not be told from the blotches and fungoid growths of decaying vegetation. In coitu the male embraces the female round the lumbar region. On shooting a Siamang in our high Urostigma preserve, my hunter found, on picking it up, a young one clasped in 156 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS its embrace, to all appearance dead also. Both of them he brought home slung on a pole. Cutting their thongs, he threw~ them down on the verandah and went off again. Being yery busy, I had taken no notice of them till a movement caused me to look up, when I saw the young ape quietly making tracks for the stairway ; but I quickly secured him, despite his screams and vigorous attempts to bite. It had been only stunned by a pellet on the head, and had no bones broken. In a very short time it tamed down and became a most delightful companion. Its expression of countenance was most intelligent, and at times almost human; but in captivity it often wore a sad and dejected aspect, which quite disappeared in its excited moods. With what elegance and gentleness it used to take what was offered it with its delicate taper fingers, which, like its head, are more anthropoid (except for their hairiness) than any other ape’s! It would never put its lips to a vessel to drink, but invariably lifted the water to its mouth by dipping in its half-closed hand and awkwardly licking the drops from its knuckles. The gentle and caressing way in which it would clasp me round the neck with its long arms, laying its head on my chest, uttering a satisfied crooning sound, was most engaging. Every evening it used to make with me a tour round the village square, with its hand on my arm, enjoying the walk apparently as much as I did. It was a most curious and ludicrous sight to see it erect on its somewhat bandy legs, hurrying along in the most frantic haste, as if to keep its head from outrunning its feet, with its long free arm see-sawing in a most odd way over his head to balance itself. That they can leap the great distances from tree to tree ascribed to them is, I think, incorrect ; for during the felling of the forest near the village, when a little colony of Siamangs got cut off from the branches of the nearest trees by some thirty feet only, they scampered up and down the tree howling in the most abject terror at every stroke of the axe, yet without venturing to leap the intervening space, and even when it was falling they did~ not attempt to save themselves by springing to the ground, but perished in the crash of the tree. The Siamang and the Ongka (Hyalobates varvegatus), an allied but smaller ape, are the most interesting IN SUMATRA. 157 of the Quadramana to be met with in this region, the Orang- utan not being found so far in the south. Continuing my journey, skirting round an elbow of Mt. Tengamus, I descended on the village of Terratas, looking down on the Bay of Semangka with its mountainous shores, and on the peaked summit of the island of Tabuang standing out of the motionless water. In one of the little ravines [ gathered specimens of a singular climbing shrub (Lagenaria) with immense semi-globular fruits over two feet seven inches in circumference. ‘Though in size so large they are quite light, their seeds being small and winged with a broad glancing membrane, thinner than the finest white tissue paper, which serves as a float to disseminate them. Two days later I made the ascent of the mountain, which, owing to its fissured and chasmed character, was tedious and difficult. Passing through a dense belt of wild bananas and Zingiberiaceous plants, then a zone of disagreeable rattan- palms, we broke into the deep, dark virgin forest, beneath whose shade little or nothing was to be found growing, save here and there an arum with a curious serpent-head-like spathe, or in bright scarlet fruit; but at 38000 feet I was gladdened by entering a belt of Ixora trees in one mass of scarlet flowers, which, as the mountain rose abruptly, had a fine effect viewed from above. In the damper regions a little higher, the tree-trunks began to be more densely clothed with orchids and ferns and climbers of all kinds; and here and there, high in the angles of the branches, scarlet Azaleas, which had crept down the mountain out of the temperate heights as far as they might dare. At 5000 feet I gathered Horsfield’s Dipteris fern, which seems too delicate to thrive well at home though it is a denizen of the higher mountains of the tropics, accompanied by great tields of a handsome species of bracken (Gletchenia glauca). At 5400 feet I halted for the night ina small hut that I had a day or two previously had erected for our accommodation on the verge of the more temperate region of the mountain, where the trees became smaller and more stunted and were loaded with lichens, mosses and feathery lycopods, and which turned out to be the lowest limit of the pitcher-plants. Few signs of animal life were observed, except the spoor of 12 158 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS the tapir, and high up the wallowing holes of the rhinoceros, and footprints of the rare mountain antelope (Antzlocarpa suma- trana); the intermittent low booming note of the large fruit- pigeons (Carpophaga badia) answering each other at roost, and the chattering cries of flocks of Babblers (Garrulax palliatus) at play in the distant tree-tops, filled the woods, but they never approached near enough to afford a chance of securing them for specimens. The night was very disagreeable, for our hut of branches and leaves leaked freely, and the dense smoke which issued from the wet wood fire, round which my boys crouched with chattering teeth, was painful to eyes and throat. I have often been surprised that the native, who, in the low grounds, goes about and even sleeps in all weathers nearly naked, when I with my European clothing have felt it quite chilly, almost at once succumbs to the low temperature in the mountain heights, and often actually dies before he can descend. A few hours round a blazing fire after a hot jorum of coffee re- invigorated them somewhat, and far into the night the woods resounded to the weird monotonous chant of one of those epics to which the Lamponger is never tired of listening, and which his country is famed for, such as the Herculean exploits of that great hero, Anak Dalom, who, miraculously escaping from the interior of a bamboo, played the part of another /neas along these shores. At length, when one by one they dropped off to doze, with their chins on their knees, their heads buried in their sarongs, the intense silence of the forest reigned, which even the moaning of the trees and the shriti screaming of the cicads could not disturb. Resuming our ascent, I found that at 5800 feet the Dipteris horsfieldi increased in abundance, while lichens and mosses padded every stone, tree-trunk, and lower branch with a thick springy cushion of moss, among which everywhere the elegant flagons of the Pitcher-plants were embedded or swayed grace- fully from projecting twigs. Here also, among the moss and on the fallen trees, a pretty Cymbidium, an epiphytie orchid with dark-green crisp foliage, carpeted in profusion the hol- Jowsand knolls. The whole mountain above 5800 feet seemed as if intentionally laid out in a gigantic rockery, up which the path wound under moss-padded arches, and over boulders on IN. SUMATRA. 159 which choice flowers had been planted; and as we ascended, other species of orchids appeared, and shrubby Rhododendrons with bright scarlet bells, (R. tubiflorwm and malayanum). Nearer the top, the vegetation was mostly composed of lean- armed and straggling myrtles and shrubs of the heather-bell family. Crowds of blue-bottle flies, a few bees, a couple of lepidop- tera, and a small bird, with a Ploceus-like chirp, flitting about among the tall reeds, represented life at 7200 feet. Before descending, I stood to watch the gathering of the clouds, which in the wet season begin toward midday to en- velope the mountain-crests. Here and there white masses, like puffs of steam, would suddenly appear over the wooded lands below, principally over deep and naturally cold ravines, till the whole landscape was dotted with little flocks of clouds, and occasionally, even while I was looking, a white cloud would suddenly condense along the margin of the sea, and, travelling inward up the mountain side as a dense fog, which finally descended in heavy rain just as I got back with my collection to the rest-house of the previous evening. Next morning I descended to the Balai at Terratas. After several days of drying and packing up my collections, I started back for our camp at Penanggungan, to prepare for my return to Telok-betong on my way to Batavia. The road at this season, now well on in the wet monsoon, though of no great length, was excessively bad, so that the transport of my bulky herbarium in a dry condition became an anxious and difficult matter. Things went well till we reached the steep climb to the top of the pass at 2000 feet—eight hours of hard trudging, plunging and scrambling, with feet, legs, and bodies bleeding from thousands of leeches. rom the top of the pass the road lay along a nearly level plateau for many miles, through virgin forest. Here the rain came down in cold, heavy lines, flooded the path and enlivened the army of leeches, which wriggled and stretched their green, bloodthirsty necks from every leaf and blade of grass. ‘The journey at last became a dogged, cheerless trudge; I was past caring for any change of weather; things were as bad as they could be. Not a single word was uttered, except the intermittent “ All’-il-allahs ”»—whose very woe-begoneness made me smile in 160 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS spite of the general misery of things—as the coolies changed their carrying-poles from shoulder to shoulder. At nightfall we reached a small cluster of huts, where we camped thankfully for the night:.and next day before noon the terrible burden was deposited with thankfulness within my old camp, where I found my Siamang in a sad state, suffering from a suppurating finger and tooth. On lancing the one, and extracting the other, the poor creature seemed ereatly relieved, and I was delighted to watch it recover without having contracted any antipathy, but rather the reverse, for me. It accompanied me to Telok-betong, occu- pying with great composure during the long journey a seat on the top of one of my large packages, sheltering its head, to the amusement of all whom we met, under a Chinese umbrella which I had bought for it, and for which, after every halt, it held out its hand in the most knowing way, screaming lustily if the porters dared to move on before it had comfortably arranged itself. I took it with me to Batavia, where I gave it to a friend to keep till a good opportunity should occur of sending it to London. It managed, however, to escape, and unfortunately took to the evil practice of hiding in the tops of the cocoa-nut trees, and dropping down—in the most playful way, I have not a doubt—its fruits on the passers by, till some irate half- caste, who had narrowly escaped a broken head, unworthily put an end to a most charming existence, to my deep regret. IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 161 CHAPTER ITI. SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY. From Batavia to Anjer—Return to.Telok-betong—Proceed to Beneawang— Leave this for the Blalau region—Camp at Sanghi—Camp in the forest—Phosphorescent display—Camp again in forest—Reach Bumi- padang—Pass on to Batu-brah—Description of the village—Move on to Kenali—Description of the village—Proceed to Hoodjoong—Description of the village—lIts tobacco industry—Its rice-fields—Planting and reaping— Superstitions—Goitre—Fauna and flora of the Besagi voleano—Birds and insects of the neighbourhood. Havine despatched my collections to England, in the middle of December, I turned my steps once more to Sumatra, to investigate the Highlands of the Bencoolen and Palembang Residencies. Just then, because of a break in the cable between Anjer and Telok-betong, a Government steamer was plying to keep up communication between the two stations, which the authorities kindly allowed me to make use of, if I should choose to proceed by that way. Accordingly, a day’s ride in a Kahar brought me to Anjer, where I renewed my acquaintance with the beautiful view obtained from the verandah of the little that was there. Alas! that I should have to write was; for the cruel Krakatoa wave of dawn of the 23rd August, 1883, washed away the village, and with it the little inn and the kind Dutch landlady and her whole family. Having crossed to Telok-betong, I proceeded after a short delay across country to Beneawang at the top of the Semangka Bay. As I was making for the slopes of the Besagi volcano, the easiest route would have been to take steamer to Krée, on the west coast, and thence by road eastwards; but I was desirous of seeing the scenery and the vegetation along the valley of the Semangka river, which, running south through the Sawah Mountains, falls into the sea at the top of its own bay. Although it was reported to be a very rarely followed route, I decided to attempt the journey ; but it proved a more 162 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS difficult one than I had anticipated. I could find nobody to accompany me who had ever traversed the road before, or who could give me the least information as to the distance between their own last village and Batu-brah, the nearest in the Krée district. The road at its commencement lay along the triangular plain occupying the cleft where the Barisan Mountains branch to form the eastern and western boundaries of the bay. Reaching in the afternoon the village of Sangi, at the confluence of the Saming with the Semangka, I en- camped for the night in its Balai. Next morning, crossing the Samiting in small prahus, accom- panied by twenty-five porters I proceeded along the eastern bank of the Semangka. As its stream, where at length the path crossed to the opposite side, was running with a very swift current and was nearly six feet deep, a difficult obstacle was presented to our progress. An hour was lost in building a raft, and a second in transporting the baggage. As the last pack- ages, luckily for us, were being brought over rain began to fall, and within an hour of its commencement it would have been impossible to have crossed. The river runs between hills which for fifty miles rise very abruptly from its banks, and aug- mented by contributory streams rushing down steep, boulder- studded slopes, it swells with great suddenness. Over these violent side-torrents every bundle had to be transported by many carriers, each holding it by one hand, and steadying himself by grasping his neighbour with the other. In this operation several narrow escapes occurred; for, once losing foothold, no human aid could have prevented one from being swept into the main stream, boiling and roaring past in some places 150 feet below us, and often thirty yards in breadth. The track was of the worst character possible, being ob- structed by fallen trees and huge blocks of stone, and in many places obliterated by landslips, and often, where the distance between the trees was not sufficiently wide to admit between them the larger packages, a halt had to be made for the obstructing stems to be felled. Our intended halt for the night was a forest hut ; but none of my convoy knew where or how far distant it was, if it existed at all. As the day wore on I became very anxious, for tigers abounded, and we had been crossing and following the fresh tracks of a herd of elephants IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 163 all day. As it was Christmas time, and we were near the fifth parallel of south latitude, darkness was due shortly after six o'clock. ' At half-past five I desired to encamp for the night, but the ground was so wet and the leeches so numerous that the carriers begged me to keep on. The more heavily-laden porters had fallen gradually behind out of call, and those near me had become very rebellious under the distressing condition of things. Suddenly, even though expecting it, darkness fell on us, so dense that I could not see even the outline of the porter immediately in front of me. Buoyed up, however, by the hope that after twelve hours’ march the hut must surely be near, we plodded on, till compelled by the ruggedness of the road to halt, with the intention of making a torch to light the rest of our way. The only dry wood within reach was the interior of the bamboo, on which the baggage was slung. One of these was hastily undone and cut up, but no one had a dry match! My own stock was with the part of the baggage in the rear. My servant, however, had a flint and some tinder, with which, after a great struggle, he managed to light a cigarette. The only thing possible now was to try to make the cigarette ignite the dry scrapings from the interior of the bamboo. At length they caught; and hope brightened with the rising smoke; but a big raindrop drowned them both. For nearly an hour we laboured in vain to “ make” fire, and the idea of lighting a torch or of proceeding further had to be abandoned. The porters had thrown themselves on halting on the wet ground, and were fast asleep. All of us were drenched, but with the part of the baggage by me was, luckily, my water- proof sheet, containing a change of clothes and my Ulster-coat. After several attempts to adjust the proper garments to the respective portions of the body for which they were made, and throwing the waterproof sheet over my head, I sat down on a box to brave till morning the rain and the beasts of the forest, my hands thrust deep into my Ulster pockets. ‘omy delight, my fingers found a piece of linen cloth bone dry. Starting up, I roused the man with the flint and rasp. We hammered away industriously for a weary length of time; at last we were rewarded—the tinder had caught. It is impossible to relate 164 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS in words how anxiously I nursed that fledgling fire; how tenderly I held it in the hollow of my hands while my “ boy” fanned it gently ; when it kad grown a little, how we reared it in a hat before transplanting it to the ground where it almost expired from its cold touch, but the immense native umbrella- like hat shielded it till it was able to take care of itself. All hands were then roused to gather wood, and we had at leneth the satisfaction of feeling that the tigers would give us a wide berth, and no elephant, unless a rogue, would trample us down. Except a handful of rice at the ford, neither myself nor my men had tasted food since dawn, and, possessing a fire, we were hopeful that we might cook also; but, of course, the eatables were in the other part of the baggage! There was nothing, therefore, to be done but to sit down with what patience each could command and wait for morning. If things were the opposite of comfortable or bright for my companions, I myself felt not a little compensated by the singular appearance of the forest, which was everywhere phos- phorescent. The stem of every tree blinked with a pale greenish-white light, which undulated also across the surface of the ground like moonlight coming and going behind the clouds—from a minute threadlike fungus invisible in the day- time to the unassisted eye; and here and there thick dumpy mushrooms displayed a sharp clear dome of light, whose intensity never varied or changed till the break of day; long phosphorescent. caterpillars and centipedes, crawled out of every corner, leaving a trail of light behind them, while fire- flies darted about above like a lower firmament. Trying to conceive what were the respective benefits conferred by this wonderful luminosity on these so widely separated species of living things, I dozed off to the lullaby of the weird forest moan, the clanging “ kang-kang” of the horned frogs, and the not unmelodious wail of some night bird. Break of the next day showed us in what a miserable spot we had encamped—on the edge of a rocky cliff, under the drip of the trees, not below their shade. We gathered together the scattered articles of baggage, which had been deposited anywhere and everywhere. Near. me, hanging by its feet to a carrying-pole dead, drowned by the rain, I found the: fowl for which I groped about, listening for its cackle IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 165 the evening before. Resuming our jourmey faint and in low spirits, we reached the dammar-gatherer’s hut within an hour’s walk. ‘The dead fowl, hastily boiled with a little rice which had soured in the rain, was partaken of without complaint. The nearest baggage came in some two hours after us, the porters having camped without fire or shelter not far from myself, but the heavier part did not arrive till late in the afternoon, and not until I had sent out a relief convoy. When it arrived the men were too tired to proceed further that day, so we spent the night where we were. At sunset we feasted luxuriously, we thought; on the solitary fowl belonging to the owner of .the hut, ae reserving a limb for next days breakfast. The remembrance of our dismal surroundings on that evening haunts me still—a miserable hovel gauntly raised like a railway signal-box on high posts, in a clearing in the heart of the forest, amid the wild and melancholy confusion of felled trees, and with our view shut in by grey fleecy rain- clouds hanging in banks on the hills and low down on the tree-tops. Thescreaming of the cicads and the “ koo-ow” of the Argus pheasants seemed more mournful than usual; there was penta lively anywhere to relieve the gloom. In the little space which they had respectfully railed off for me I retired early to rest, and slept comfortably, notwithstanding the smoke from a wood fire and a spluttering dammar lamp, the steam from drying clothes and the aroma that filled the cabin, into which twenty-eight of us had managed to squeeze. Next day the grey morning had hardly appeared before we were again on the march, striding along as fast as the deep tracks made by a bevy of elephants which had traversed the road the night before, permitted us. Mr. Wallace, in his ‘Malay Archipelago,’ says “of the great Mammalia of Sumatra, the elephant and the rhinoceros, the former is much more searce than it was a few years ago, and seems to retire rapidly before the spread of civilisation. About Lobo Raman [a district. more to the north-east in the Palembang Residency | tusks and bones are occasionally found, but the living animal is now neyer seen.” In the district I was traversing the opposite seemed to hold. Within twenty miles of Telok-betong I have crossed a wide area over which elephants had committed 166 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Sa RO RO 0 eee depredations but a few hours before my coming. The village people in these districts complained of the constant ravages done by them in their fields and pepper gardens, while the forest everywhere abounded with their tracks. Of the rhino- ceros, on the other hand, I saw traces only a few times. Some miles on in the forest we came upon a large stone by the side of the path, supposed to possess some influence over things terrestrial, for, as each of the porters passed it, he plucked a handful of leaves and, placing them on the stone, prayed for a dry day and good luck.* Whether it was through the influence of the stone or not we got a dry day, and I only wished that we had met with it somewhat sooner. All that day we pushed on by the side of the Semangka, which elided past us deep and noiselessly through a level plateau, crossing more than once from the one side to the other by some giant tree that had fallen from bank to bank, through dense forest in a sombre winding lane, beyond which we could see nothing but blinks of the sky, except where now and then it opened out on pretty sandy beaches which swarmed with species of metallic tiger-beetles and sand-bees, and where Sulphur (Terdas) and Swallow-tailed butterflies (Charazes and Appias), in gyrating flocks played on the damp ground by the water's edge. Towards evening, emerging from the forest, our eyes were delighted by the sight of a small cluster of houses, the village of Bumi-padang, “the field of the world,” lying a mile off, in a large open alluvial amphitheatre. But, the path suddenly giving out, presently we found ourselves floundering to the thighs at every step in a deep morass swarming with enormous leeches, out of which we could not extricate ourselves, as it seemed to stretch in every direction except behind us. On observing us the head of the marga and his chieflings, with the usual crowd following, came out to welcome and attend :us back to the village. They came to the edge of the bog and sat down to await us; and doubtless the sight of our scattered cavalcade floundering in the slough afforded them not a little amusement—it was ludicrous enough to ourselves. Here I dismissed the porters brought from the coust, and with a new retinue pressed forward with the break of day. * See below in the closing Chapter of this book. IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 167 The road towards the high plateau of my destination rose at a steep incline, and with the rain that had recently fallen was horribly slippery; but the worst road has always something to brighten it, for where it approached or rose above 2000 feet I was gratified by finding broad fields of brightly coloured purple, yellow and white balsams, and close to the edge of the path many low herbaceous Cyrtandrex, a family with chaste foliage and flowers; tall terrestrial orchids of numerous sorts, and many species of ferns. At dark we entered the village of Batu-brah, and I found ready for me, as the news of my coming had preceded me, a royal—compared with my late experiences—sleeping apartment in the Balai, with a table groaning under a load of fruits. In the morning I was agreeably surprised by finding myself in a village of a character quite different from any that I had yet visited in Sumatra. The houses were high, large, and substantially built of planks raised for five or six feet on im- mense pillars formed of the largest trees of the forest, with pyramidal roofs, surrounded by an elegant ramshorn-like ornament universally used in the district, cut out of pumice blocks or of tree-fern roots, with a piece of mirror or a bright stone let into it to glitter in the sun. I did not camp here, but continued to Kenali, the capital of the marga, a large and very old village some miles eastward. Both sides of the road were fully cultivated with coffee, rice, but principally tobacco, for which this region of Sumatra is famed. Indian corn is also grown in considerable quantity, along with Huropean and sweet potatoes and cabbages of excellent quality. On our way we crossed a small tributary of the Semangka, which, at a little distance below the ford, narrowing from a river of thirty yards to one of a yard or a yard and a-half wide, dashed itself into a frothy torrent down a narrow rocky gorge in a series of falls for about 100 feet into the main river. The falls reminded me of those of the Clyde at Stonebyres; they are more picturesque, but less imposing from the diffi- culty of viewing them from below where the cascade plunges into the main river. The road from Batu-brah to Kenali runs along a high plateau of about 3000 feet above the sea, extend- ing between the Barisan range and the volcanoes of Besagi and Sekindjau, and is composed of mingled clay and a sandy 168 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS pumice-stone tufa which, mixed with the black humus from the forests of centuries, has given its great fertility to the soil of this region. The village, situated on a high bluff looking down on the river, is one of the oldest in the district, and is certainly one of the finest, cleanest, and most elegantly arranged that I had visited. One of its most noticeable features was its decora- tive art. The massive pillars, as well as the super-imposed beams and framework of the dwellings, were entirely covered with rich, intricate, and really beautiful carvings in an extremely hard black wood, which, after one hundred and fifty years by their data, appeared perfectly fresh and sound. The supporting beams, which rested on the pillars, projected some feet beyond the corners, and were ornamented with carved terminals, somewhat like the figure-head of a ship. A broad stairway of wood, sometimes with rails elaborately carved, led up to the doors. The windows were constructed of solid blocks of wood cut into oval or straight apertures, which could be closed by a correspondingly cut and rotating piece of wood in the inside. ‘The divisions between the apertures were ornamented on the outside with different colours or inlaid with elegant designs in mother-of-pearl. The sides of most of the houses were made of panels of wood let into a grooved framework and accurately fitted, with the aid of very few tools, and often without a single nail. The Balai, always the best looked-atter building in a village, was covered everywhere with rich carvings. Finding to my disappointment that Kenali was too far from the Besagi Mountain where I wished specially to collect for a time, to suit as my headquarters, I was reluctantly compelled to remoye to another village nearer its foot, some nine or ten miles further on. Descending two hundred and fifty feet from the village, we reached the level of the river, and proceeded along its bank on a narrow alluvial flat for several miles by the edge of rice- fields, beautifully cultivated in quadrangular plots rising in gentle terraces, from which the irrigating water of the higher beds was conveyed by a neat contrivance of bamboo pipes* passing under the dividing dykes and bent upwards to dis- charge in the lower terraces as low fountains, which had a id ine. Date i VILLAGE OF KENALI, IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 169 pretty effect in each of these miniature green-walled ponds, whose surface, save where the fountains played and for the silent circles of each outflow-vortex, was unbroken by a single ripple. As the terraces rose but little above each other, the blue sky was reflected as in a mirror along the whole valley, while the bright green of the young corn peeping up above the surface, by giving a green colour to the mirror without in the least breaking to the eye the placid surface of the water, or interfering with perfect reflection of the ever-changing face of the sky, produced a beautiful effect impossible to describe in words. Here and there, adding life to the scene, in the midst of these fields were smoking cottages embowered in groves of Eriodendron and Acacia trees. Fording the river, the road took us, after a steep ascent, for several miles along almost a knife-ridge under a grand old avenue of virgin forest, at whose termination I half expected to find a stately castle or an ancient ruin. As we approached the village the forest became less dense, and we passed between a line of tall red-leaved Hanjuangs (Calodracon Jacquinit), a shrub sacred to their graveyards. Under this avenue of mourning, just outside the village gate, was laid out that one institution, at all events, common to the most exalted civilisa- tion and the most debased barbarism—the Home of the dead. Each little mound, often surmounted by circular ornamented pillars of wood diverging from each other at opposite ends of the grave within a fenced and neatly tended inclosure, was planted with Crotons and beautiful-leaved shrubs. The village itself surprised me not a little. It might have been a feudal castle. As its name, Hoodjoong or * the village on the verge,’ implies, it was situated at the extremity of the long narrow ridge along which I had come, and was in- accessible, owing to precipitous slopes dipping down into the deep valley on all sides except on the one we had approached it by, and there the road, rising in a short steep incline, passed into the village under a narrow gateway cut out of the soft tufa which hid the village till it was passed. All that was wanted to complete the picture was a battlemented tower or two over it, and the chains of a drawbridge and _portcullis. The village looked down into a deep alluvial valley laid out in rice-plots along the banks of a stream whose double sources 170 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS ee INOS could be seen as a couple of waterfalls, like long white streaks high up in the face of the Besagi, which formed the back- ground of the view. ie The villagers employed themselves chiefly in the cultivation of tobacco, sold under the name of Ranau tobacco, which, though not the true article, is little inferior to what is grown on the borders of the lake of that name. Great attention was given also to the cultivation of rice, which they grew as in Java, on the wet system, in plot-divided terraces. In Java the plots are allowed to run dry after the fields are harvested ; but here not so, as they were kept carefully stocked with small fishes, which afforded to their owners a large food supply, while the mollusks, which infest the sides and bottom of these tanks, are abundantly eaten by the natives, who obtain from their calcined shells the lime for their betel-chewing. Several deep plots were entirely appropriated to the propagation of fish, and in them Water-lilies (Symnanthemum) and other aquatic plants grew in great luxuriance, dotting the surface with their large white and pink or yellow flowers, and giving to the fields the appearance of a garden. The only periods when a really industrious spirit seems to prevail among these people are during the planting and the reaping seasons. Then the whole family—men, as well as women and children—turn out to assist, and remain in the fields from morning till dusk. Before beginning to plant the crop, a charm is placed in a favourable and fertile spot in one of the plots, in order to secure a good harvest. Four of the finest ears of paddy from the pre- ceding crop are stuck into the ground in the form of a square, and by the side of each a little wand of the leaf of the Areng palm, to whose extremity is bound a little packet of cotton- wool inclosing a few rice-grains of large size; in the centre of the square is planted a stem of Sasangai grass (which hasa long and many-corned ear), with a fruit-bearing twig of the Jambu (Myrtacew) on each side of it. This, being interpreted, means: “ May the rice of which this is a sample here grow in these fields stout and strong, and with heads as fruitful as this Sasangai, with corns as large as this sample, and as sweet as the Jambu.” In the harvest time this little square is left to the end, and the lucky sheaf is carried last of all. This VIEW NEAR THE VILLAGE OF HOODJOONG, LOOKING TOWARDS MOUNT BESAGI. IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 171 reminded me of the “claik sheaf” of the northern counties of Scotland, for which a rich scytheful is selected, and of the superstitions attaching to its cutting. The fields must present here a picturesque sight in the reaping season, and one | should have liked to see, for the harvesters in their many- coloured garments and hats stand in the water amid the yellow grain and push before them narrow-pointed skiffs to receiye the heads of corn as they are snipped off. At other seasons of the year the people are lazy enough— that is, the male portion of them;—for the women almost entirely look after the dry-ground crops, the tobacco, coffee, maize, &c., and daily go to the fields to fetch the produce, returning with enormous loads in baskets suspended on the back by a cord across the forehead. The sole delight ot the men is in tending their gamecocks. ‘The villager carries one with him wherever he goes ; and whenever his hands are free he may be seen with it under his arm, patting and stroking it. It is generally tethered by a cord to an elegantly made peg in some shady spot near the house; and, should another cock attack his captive pet, its owner will rush to its rescue more speedily than he would to the ery of his child. Here and throughout the district goitre was extremely prevalent, nearly twenty per cent. of the people being affected. It is ascribed by some to the great loads carried by the women on their foreheads; but they did not seem more subject than the men. I saw even children of seven and eight years of age with the beginning of the disease. The natives themselves ascribe it to the soil, but why they could not say. I was told by the head of the village that in the Makakau district (to the north) which is notorious for its guitre, seventy per cent. are affected. The soil of the Hoodjoong district is a sandy pumicestone tufa. Itis held by some authorities that the only important point established as to the rocks in which goitre does not occur is the absence of limestone and metallic im- purities, and that endemic goitre coincides with metalliferous deposits, iron pyrites being in the fore rank. Later on in my journey I found on the Rawas river far less goitre, where we have Silurian rocks and some limestone and metalliferous— iron pyrites and gold—strata than on this pumicestone plateau, which is non-metalliferous. 172 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Laid up for some weeks from ulcerated wounds, I was unable personally to do so much on the higher parts of the Besagi as I could have desired. From what my hunters and collectors brought in, it was evident that its elevation corre- sponds very nearly with that of the Tengamus—about 7000 feet—in the Lampongs; myrtles, ericas, rhododendrons and moss-loving orchids, and high-growing species of Melasto- macee were among the most characteristic plants. It was trying to the temper to hear accounts of abundant tracks of the fine goat-like antelope (Capricornis sumatrensis) whose footprints I had so wistfully followed on the Tengamus without success. The return of my bird hunters, however, was always for me the great event of the day. As birds . were very abundant, my collection increased rapidly. Among the more interesting species may be mentioned Orescius gouldi, one of the Trogons, the orange of whose breast washes com- pletly out in spirit of wine; Criniger gutturalis, two species of Myophoneus (M. melanura and M. dierorhynchus), which in the evening flitted about from stone to stone with a loud whistle, the former quite endearing itself to me by its blackbird- like form and habits; Polyplectron chalewrurus, one of the Phasianide ; and Arborophila personata, a little partridge, differing from the type in being more bluish-ash on the breast and more closely barrred with black on the back. I was, however, able to entomologise among the sunny avenue- like roads that for several miles led away from the village, where flocks of Cyrestes (Nymphalidx), spread their chastely marked wings flat on the ground, and delicate Lycanide disported in great numbers; of other Lepidoptera the more interesting species may be named: Callidula javanica, which emitted a strong and disagreeable odour; Melanitis suradeva, on stumps of trees under the shade; a fine new species of Amnosia ; Eurhinia fulva, lately discovered in Tenasserim by my friend Captain Bingham ; one of the prettiest species of the Ecophoride ; two new species of that curious genus named by Butler Homopsyche from their singular resemblance to a Homo- pteron, and for which I at first took them; and Botys deductalis, a species known also from Ceylon, an island with which Sumatra - seems to have many species in common; in Telok-betong I netted a small moth at light, Pentacttrotus transversa, also —— IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 173 represented in Ceylon. Frequenting dark-coloured tree-stems, I observed (and secured) some fine specimens of flocks of Anmosia decora. It has a curious habit of settling high up, then running down the trunk, stopping at intervals flapping its wings; then flying off to a neighbouring stem to perform the same manceuyres. A few miles from Hoodjoong I captured the Husemia belangeri spread out on broad leaves of Scecta- minex. It emits a powerful odour of cloves. Several species of lepidoptera mimic members of the Agaristide, but I did not discover here if Husemea belangert had a double. From the island of Nias (on the west coast of Sumatra) Mr. Butler has recently described (Ann. and Mag. of Nat. Hist., July 1884) a moth, a species of Huschemide (Pancethia simulans) which mimics Ophthalmis decipiens (of the Agaristide); while in Amboina, Ophthalmis lincea (which belongs to the same family) is mimicked by Artaxa simulans (of the Liparide). 13 174 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS CHAPTER IY. SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY—continuel. leave Hoodjoong—Denudation—Great Arims—Sukau—Chiefs of the Ranan region—Tandjong-djati on the Ranau Lake—The high temperature of the water—Birds, fishes, interesting insects—Banding Agzong—To Mnara Daa—Through Kisam—Geolozical notes—Kisam villages—Coat of arms—Writing, dress, religion of Kisam people. Leavinc Hoodjoong in the end of January, I proceeded north eastward towards Mount Siminung and the Ranau lake district ; repassing on the way Kenaliand Batu-brah, I crossed the Semangka river near its head-waters, as a small stream run- ning in a very deep valiey of soft sandstone. In descending the face of the valley the gigantic results of denudation were very striking, where the rain of only one season had been sufficient to excavate enormous ravines. Even the rain of a few days had newly washed down thousands of tons” weight from its slopes. From this cause the whole country was exceedingly picturesque, sculptured out into singular and rugged outlines, steep gorges and precipitous valleys. From such a landscape one is able to picture faintly the effect of this vast leveliing agent working ceaselessly through cycles of time, in carving and changing the face of the country and in planing down the mountains and table-lands, even where protected by virgin forest. From the crossing of the Semangka river the road to the northward rises to the watershed of the rivers which fall on the one hand south to the Semangka Bay, and on the other into the lake Ranau and thence eastward by an arm of that immense river system which drains the whole eastern side of the Barisan range for more than 200 miles due north, and dis- charges itself into the Java sea below the queer half-floating town of Palembang. This mountain road, 3000 feet above the ll ena IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 175 le sea, led me across as pretty and picturesque a piece of country as one could wish to travel through, winding round the head of deep glens, with occasional gorges to right and left which haye left only three feet of ridge-path between them, and along the face of forest-clad precipices, hundreds of feet deep below which flowed hidden streams whose murmur bubbled up from among the trees as a pleasant music. In descending from the plateau I found at about 2500 feet, growing in sandy soil where it seems best to flourish, several stems of the giant arum (Amorphophallus titanum) one of the largest known herbs. The biggest of these specimens measured seventeen feet in height. Descending from the northern face of the plateau, I was met by the chief and under-chiefs of the marga, at some distance from the village of Sukau, where I was to spend the night; and at the boundary of the village I was greeted by a crowd of the inhabitants and a band consisting of three youths—one in the middle fingered a flute which he had newly cut from a bamboo, the two others each beat a small bronze gong both of them cracked, which they carried in one hand suspended before them by a cord, tinkling it with a short twig in the other—who played me to the Balai to the notes perhaps of their margal anthem. Providentially the stateliness of the occasion made conversation out of place, otherwise, had it been necessary to open my compressed lips, | would have shocked the fathers of the people by the heartiness of my mirth, for never have I taken part in so ludicrous a procession with so solemn a countenance. Consider its composition : the musical advance- euard as [have described ; the central figure under a hatas big as an umbrella, in garments the worse of repeated conflicts with the thorns and thickets of the forest, seated on a small steed eaparisoned in a bridle with more knotted cords than leather in its composition and in a saddle that required every artful device to keep it from falling to pieces, his long, ereat-booted lees almost trailing on the ground ; alongside on either hand the mute chiefs in duly solemn countenances, followed by a rear-guard of coolies with my baggage, and the general crowd of men, women and children—and who would not have desired to relieve his twitching pent-up risorius muscles ? Next morning I continued my way towards the Lake Ranau, and at the marches of the Krée and Palembang Residencies, 176 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS the confines of their territory, my hosts of Sukau took farewell, and I was welcomed by the chiefs of the neighbouring mar- gas, who conducted me to Tandjong-djati, the village where I purposed to spend some time. If I was the day before inclined somewhat to levity at the general appearance of the procession that greeted me, I felt embarrassed the other way on meeting these chiefs of the Ranau district. Sedate-looking men of middle age they were, dressed in neat black official coats, spotlessly clean collars, white starched trousers with a sarong girt about their loins, patent leather boots, and on their heads the imposing official cap, which I saw then for the first time, mitre-like in shape, covered with cloth of gold, while each carried in his hand a gold-topped stick bearing the arms of his Majesty of Holland, the insigna of his office. They looked such aristocratic personages and so faultlessly attired that I felt that I ought to descend from my horse and bow myself to the ground in return for the profound salaam with which they received me. After the usual festivities given on the visit of a white man, in which the dancing of the maidens, attired in their best attire and jewels, is always a conspicuous feature, I settled into possession of my new home with a light and hopeful heart, for it was situated in a district considered to be one of the prettiest in Sumatra, by the margin of the lake looking out on the cone-of the Siminung; but the very night of my arrival, whether by accident or by design is doubtful, some poisonous drug was placed in one or other dish of my evening meal, which induced profuse internal hemorrhage that nearly proved fatal to me. Happily a strong emetic rid me of the noxious ingredient, and a few days of care restored me to my normal! condition; but it is not a very pleasant reminiscence of the place. The Ranau Lake lies 1700 feet above the sea level at the foot of the now quiescent—if ever within historical times active —voleano of the Siminung. From its shape, which is that of two irregular circles run together, it appears to occupy the site of an old crater. In the centre it is of eatreme depth. At various points round the margin nearest the Siminung, hot springs of 127° T°. of temperature bubble up, and warm the greater portion of the western end from 7° to 10° higher than a IN SUMATRA. 177 that of the air. It is abundantly stocked with fish and bivalve mollusca; but when they approach too near the warmer shore, where the temperature is above 100° F., the water instantly proves fatal to them. These springs and the very frequent earthquakes—no fewer than three occurred during my short stay—attest that, though the volcano is now qui- escent, the interior of the earth here is in a very unquiet state. Tall forest trees clothed the high margins of the lake, which descended here and there to grassy bays and level ereen swamps; on the sandy margins flourished fig-trees and Kiry- thrinas with large bright scarlet flowers, on whose crooked stems flocks of blue herons (Butorides javanica) and pure white egrets (Bubulcus coromandus) constantly sat dozing out the heat of the day. In the early mornings they had busied themselves in gathering the leeches and insects from the backs of the buffaloes, by whom their kind oftices seemed highly appreciated. On the high solitary trees perched clumsy, bald-headed adjutants (L2ptoptilus), whose thin long legs always suggested the idea that they had escaped from some taxidermist’s hands when he had just got the length of running the wires up their shanks. In the marshes snipe abounded in great plenty; grey djoo-jooats (Tringotdes) on the sandy beaches, and shy water-hens (Hypotenidia striata) among the tall flags. The lake teemed with fish of many kinds, the best being the semah (Leobarbus) which, when full-grown, is as large as the largest salmon, and the katjubang (Botia macranthus), a small but most beautiful scarlet- and black- banded fish. A few interesting captures of insects, many of them quite new species, were made here by the margins of the lake; especially may be mentioned Xeropterya simplicior, previously known only from Borneo, and Heterodes ansonialis, described before from the far-distant Duke of York Island, east of New Guinea; and two splendid new species of Papilio, P. ctamputi of Mr. Butler, and P. forbes of Smith, allied to P. aleia'ades. The village of Banding Agong, whither I moved for a short time as the guest of Mr. Hisgen, the Controller of the district, was'a delightful spot, situated at the south-east angle on a high but sheltered spot, commanding one of the finest views of the lake that can be had, exactly fronting the volcano and the 1738 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS peaks of the Tapa Skandri, or Footstep of (no less a hero than) Alexander the Great, whom the chiefs of these regions: claim, singularly enough, as their illustrious stem-father. The industry of the lake borders, for which it is famed through- out the Archipelago, is its tobacco culture, which is grown on a loose porous earth eomposed of the detritus of pumicestone mixed with humus. The finest quality is made from none but the very topmost leaves of the plant, and commands a very high price. . From the lake, on my next stage towards the Dempo, the road descended through the same picturesque country (in furmer ages probably the bottom of a Ranau lake greater than now) all the way to Muara-dua. This town, “at the mouth of two rivers” as its name signifies, is situated at the union of the Sako with the broad Komering river, and is the seat of a large trade by river with Palembang in cotton, tobacco, rice, timber, and “ birds’ nests ”’—the edible swifts’ nests—gathered from dark calcareous grottoes in the neigh- bourhood. The town, though distant 200 miles in a direct line from the sea, is only 400 feet above its level, and stands really on the edge of the great alluvial plain which les along the entire eastern shores of Sumatra, formed by the detritus washed down from the Barisan range into a sea whose coast- line, retreating by a slight elevation of the land, left dry this broad plain, which rises nowhere throughout its vast extent more than 600 feet above the level of the sea. Before its upheaval, South Sumatra could not have been more than 100 miles broad. Several great river systems, running in a general ~ west to-east direction fan-shape in form, traverse it, and are laying down along the margin of the land a further deposit, the slight elevation of which, for some thirty feet only between Palembang and the Island of Banka, would raise the shallow sea into dry land. Near the town of Muara-dua I was surprised to net a European moth (Phragmatxecia arundinis). My further course northward traversed the sources of the great arms of the southern of these systems. Sending my baggage on to Pengandonan by the level road on the low lands, I proceeded on foot thither over the Kisam Hills. Just above Muara-dua the Slabung river was crossed by a very high suspension-bridge of a most picturesque construc- IN SUMATRA. 179 tion. In the form of a segment of a great circle, its floor was of cylindrical logs securely tied to three gigantic rattan cables the true supports of the bridge, fixed to the shore pillars; over these logs was a close bamboo basket-work pleasant to the nude foot of the pedestrian, railed on both sides, and pro- tected overhead by a close thatched roof—the whole forming a long hanging cage, which swayed freely as it was traversed. From this bridge I again ascended abruptly on to what was once in all probability the bed of the Ranau lake before its dimensions were interfered with by upheavals. The rivers I passed had cut deep rocky gorges, down which it required some care to pick one’s steps, through the strata of 150 to 200 feet in depth, showing the pumicestone tuff superin- eumbent on Tertiary rocks of Eocene age containing fossil Cyprexa, Teredina, and Pecten shells. The whole country was undulating, and full of alang-alang grass, and low second- growth forest which presented in itself little of interest, and prevented any view of the surrounding country. The houses of the Kisam people were of a pattern of their own. They were mostly of kamboo wickerwork fitted into a framework of wood, and slated with little boards of cedrilla wood. Each house had built out from it a chamber on the same level with it under a slightly lower roof, which was used as a lounging place for ihe owner and a sleeping room for visitors. The door was reached—as the houses stood on tall piles—by a slanting tree-trunk, in which a series of notches only large enough to admit the toes served as steps, and up which a booted traveller found it no easy matter to ascend. The space below the house was blocked with chopped-up wood, whose primary use was, doubtless, as a protection against the entrance of thieves or attack from below by enemies, as it is apparent how easy it would be to thrust a spear or other instrument through the bamboo floor into the bodies of the sleepers resting on it. The beneath of a man’s house is con- sidered almost as sacred as its interior, and their laws attached supreme penalties to the crime of being found at night there. The house framework in inost of the villages was elaborately carved in intricate patterns executed with the most patient eare. In Padjar-bulan, a very old village which I passed through, the decorative carving far exceeded in profusion and 180 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS excellence that in any of the others, especially in its Balai, where I was greatly interested in finding what I may call a veritable coat of arms, carved out of an immense block of wood and erected in the central position, where one would expect an object with the significance of a coat of arms to be placed. From what I could learn it had such a significance in the estimation of the chief of the village; for he told me that only such villages as could claim origin from some distant village could erect such a carving in their Balai. I am not, however, master enough of the terms of blazonry current In the College of Arms to describe it in fitting language. The shield had double supporters; on each side a tiger rampant COAT OF ARMS IN THE VILLAGE OF PADJAR-BULAN. bearing on its back a snake defiant, upheld the shield, in whose centre the most prominent quartering was a floral ornament, which might bea sunflower shading two deer, one on each side— the dexter greater than the sinister. Above the floral ornament was a central and to me unintelligible halfmoon-like blazon- ing, but on either side of it was an “ ulai lidai” (Chorus of bystanders: “ Undoubtedly an ulai lidai”’), but of what it was the similitude among created things, beyond suggesting faintly the lineaments of a scorpion, I was not pursuivant enough to recognise; on the sinister of the two, however, was a man “ tandacking ” (dancing). Below the tips of the conjoined tails of the supporting tigers were two ornate triangles, the upper IN SUMATRA. 181 balanced on the apex of the lower, which might with truth be described as the supporter of the whole, but whether these bear any reference to the mystic signs recognised by the Worshipful Lodges is a question that I must leaye for the Chief Mason to settle as best he can with the Chief Herald. I feel inclined, however, to assert that it was as good an escut- cheon, and as well and honourably emblazoned, as any that ever emanated from the College; and who dare say that it is less ancient? The sight of that emblazoned board and its carved surroundings, hid away in a small little-known hamlet in the Kisam hills among a half-savage and pagan people, astonished me not a little, and added respect to my farewell salutation to its chief. The Kisam people write in a character called, from its being inscribed on bamboos with a pointed knife, rentjong, differing only slightly from that used in the Lampongs, which nearly all of them—women included—can read and write. During my journey I was able to obtain several interesting bamboos inscribed with their songs. These pantuns are metrical com- positions consisting of lines of eight to ten feet in length, sometimes rhyming and sometimes not; but they are curious in that after every few lines one or two others which have absolutely no meaning in themselves, or connection with the composition, are interpolated ; some euphonious word being caught up and added to others more or less alliterating with it, to make a good jingle of sounds. The dress of the women is remarkable for its shortness and scantiness. Asa rule their single garment is made by them- selves in the pattern peculiar to their district, from their own home-grown cotton or silk. But the cultivation of the silk- worm is now almost abandoned, since unrestricted intercourse with Palembang, and through it with the outside world, brings the products of foreign looms to their out-of-the-way doors with less trouble than they can make them for themselves. Thus are the waves of civilisation sweeping away the indi- genous industrial arts of the people, and flooding out their manufactures, turning the hereditary craftspeople to other occupations. The people are pagan, believing in the influence of the spirits of their dead forefathers. Near the village of Gunung 182 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Megang I came on their burial-ground, laid out in the forest by the pathside—a great elevated quadrangular mound, in length just enough to admit a full-grown body. A rough stone at head and foot indicated where each person lay side by side with his neighbour. Only the married people are interred in this common burying-place, in the right, perhaps, of their being parents of the people; all others, youths and infants—useless off-shoots of their race—are buried any- where in the forest, and always some distance from where their elders lie. An unmarried woman about to give birth to a child is compelled to leave the village and retreat to the forest, whence after some forty days of solitary sojourn she returns—never with her offspring—and the village is purified by the sacrifice of a buffalo. Their most sacred oath is sworn by placing a hand over the grave of their forefathers amid the incense of benzoin, or in a circle drawn on the ground: “May the spirit of my forefathers afflict me if I have spoken falsely,’ being the formula. The same manner of swearing obtains, I am told, among the inhabitants of the Makakau, Komering (Muara-dua), Semindo, end Blalau (Hoodjoong) regions. ‘he Kisam people swear also by drinking the water in which a kriss has been dipped, as well as by the spirit of Tuan Raja Gnawo, who has his dwelling-place on Mount Dempo. IN SUMATRA. 183 CHAPTER V. SOJOURN IN THE PALEMBANG RESIDENCY (continued). From Gunung Megang—Luntar—A_ surprisc—River Ogan—Curious hills —Ornamental carving—A village fair—A cock-fight—Into the Inim Valley—Muara Inim—Lahat—Passumah lands—Ceremonial formulas— The people—Marriage ceremonies—I|legitimate births—Religion—Death superstitions and rites—Sculptured stones—Interesting visit from Ben- coolen men. TAKING my departure from Gunung Megang, and crossing the watershed into the Ogan valley at 2000-3000 feet above sea- level, I descended towards Pengandonan. Passing through the village of Luntar, I found the chiefs of the marga and a great concourse of people from all the region assembled on the third anniversary of the death of the Headman’s father, to secure the welfare of his soul by feasts and sports. Here was waiting for me the Pangeran of Pengandonan, which was the adjacent marga. After a liberal refreshment of tea, with the ubiquitous Huntley and Palmers’ biscuits, and a Palem- bang baked comfit, made principally of sago and the hashed-up flesh of a fish (whose large scales, dyed of various colours, are extensively used—and admirably adapted for the purpose they are—to cover or “tile” over the large leaf hats used in the district), and some ripe juicy oranges, I set out with my host for Pengandonan lower down on the opposite side of the Ogan. We crossed the river on a raft at a very beautiful spot at the confluence of the Laham and the Ogan. On our left were several curiously formed, abrupt hills ; facing us was the bare-topped, caleareous peak of the Riang rising sheer from the bank, and just above the ferry was moored a flotilla of rakits— those picturesque floating houses by which the produce of the region is transported to the coast, which to the trader are ship and comfortable house for many days together on these great rivers. 184 A NATURALIST ’S WANDERINGS A short intercourse with the Pangeran served to show that he was a native far superior in intelligence and ability to most of the chiefs about him. ‘Though dressed no _ better than the ordinary native, and preferring his sandals—whose possession is always a mark of superiority—carried behind him to wearing them, he had even more than usual of the easy dignified politeness and gentlemanly bearing of the higher Malays. Yet when, a few yards from the river bank, below a shade of trees, we suddenly came on a neat carriage evidently waiting for some one, so little was I prepared for his reply to my surprised query, “ Whose is the carriage?” that it almost ‘took away my breath’ when he quietly but not without a little pride, said, “It is mine.” The carriage was drawn by a pair of well-kept black ponies, furnished with every European appurtenance. It certainly was incongruous, one felt, this spanking pair, with bright silver harness, whirling throngh villages of poor-looking cottages without one refined taste to match this specimen of high civilisation in their midst. Every village we passed through poured out its inhabitants to see the bright equipage, which, though housed quite near, was evidently a by no means common apparition. The women stared with open mouth, and the children, in all the clothing nature had given them, raced us for a long way, shouting with all their might. It was evident that the Pangeran, satisfied with the honour of haying purchased such a possession, was not much given to indulging himself in the use of it, if one may judge by the undaunted way, utterly regardless of dynamical principles, in which he took the most rectangular pieces of a road never made for a carriage. Perhaps I may misjudge him, and he may have so accurately known these principles as to be able to drive within an inch or so of the centre of gravity without dislodging it. He never eased up to a corner; even a double right-angled “hook” was described with wonderful precision, if not with the utmost comfort. Holes or no holes, logs or no logs in the way, he never drew rein till we halted for good at the door of the Pasangerahan, a rest-house which he himself had erected on the right bank of the river for the benefit of officials visiting the district. From the verandah of the house the scene, which could be leisurcly watched as I comfortably rested, was one of great IN SUMATRA. 18% interest. Across the river the village of Pengandonan elinted through the palms; the villagers were constantly going to or returning with loads of fruit and vegetables from the fields in little boats, or poling up and down or across the river on narrow rafts of five or six short bamboos lashed together; there was a constant stream of women and children either to bathe or to wash rice or to fill with water the basketful ot bamboos slung behind them. As every one wore more or less brightly-coloured garments and cylindrical hats painted with dragon’s-blood red, the scene had no lack of colour or life to make it a pleasing one. When the rain-torrents brought the river down in flood, as it did about once a day, the scene was still more lively. The whole population, men, women, and children, swarming out like a disturbed ants’ nest, with ereels, hampers, baskets and nets, dashed in up to the very eyes, where the force of the stream was broken a little, to scrape the bottoms and sides of the river for the fish (which have taken refuge there out of the current), allowing them- selves the while to be floated down the stream for some dis- tance; then, running up stream again, shouting and laughing, tney dashed in for another and another bout. These floods sometimes quite cut me off from communication with the opposite side; and as my cooking was all performed in the village, I was constrained sometimes to go dinnerless to bed. When a few hours’ rain is sufficient to flood the river so as to bring down fruits, branches, large trees and (as I saw on one occasion) a broad slice of ground with the bamboos growing on it, one who has not seen it can but faintly imagine the volume and power of such a river after the incessant rain of several days. A curious feature of this place was the abrupt hills of which I have spoken. Composed of calcareous crystalline rocks, probably of Eocene age, they appear to have been in ancient times the boundaries of the ocean in which was laid down what is now the plain of Eastern Sumatra. The Peak of the Riang, the most abrupt of them all, is the highest land between itself and the coast, distant in a direct line one hun- dred and twenty miles, and commands a magnificent panorama of a long stretch of the Ogan valley, running between deep barriers, the sun-flash on whose surface guided the eye all 186 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS along its winding course till it disappeared through a narrow rocky gateway into the blue sea-like plain of Palembang. Below, fields of young corn, dotted with small watch-huts which were so utterly embowered in Convolvulacex that they seemed to be simply immense bunches of yellow and purple flowers, covered the rich flats all along both banks, and might themselves have marked out the course of the river by TATA BUBUR-TALAM. their luxuriant verdure. The Pangeran owned rice-fields, partly inherited, partly purchased, which he informed me were worth £20,000. He reckoned, however, that his income, from cotton and. coffee and other fruits, but principally from buffaloes, was greater than from his rice-fields. ‘he houses of the Ogan people were all richly carved, and the ornamentation is said to be peculiar to their own valley. TATA SIMBAR AND TATA AWAN. The Semindo men (a district lying about a day’s journey to the west) are credited with the invention of the designs; but the Palembangers, who are famous workers in wood, are generally the builders, and accommodate each district with the style of “tata” or ornamentation peculiar to itself, which it has retained for generations. The accompanying sketches will illustrate the designs most in vogue. On the lowermost ge LOOKING DOWN THE OGAN VALLEY FROM THE RIANG PHAR, IN SUMATRA. 187 beam, or Tazlan-luan, that resting on the pillars, we haye the carving represented on page 186, and called tata bubur-talam ; the second figure represents the carving on the Pahatan, ox the lower beam of the framework of the house; where the tata simbar commences the designs, followed by the tata awan, which either continues the whole length of the beam alter- nately reversed till it is closed again by a second tata simbar, or both are used throughout alter- nately erect and reversed. The in‘erior of the raised portion is either left unearved or is adorned with the foliage and flowers, of which the outlines appear in the design. ‘This is the Ogan pattern par excellence. On the door-posts TATA RAMO-RAMO. I found in some houses tata raimo- ramo (ramo means, wild beast) which is not true Ogan, but adopted from the Semindo people, and it is extremely interest- ing to observe how effective an ornament has resulted from the representation of a tiger or some such animal, in which the Fiz, ip \ SCMINDO CARVING—TATA OTAR GAMOOLUNG—ON A TIOUSE IN PENGANDONAN. eye has become a floral ornament, and the legs and tail have developed into scrolls. On the last day of my stay here I spent a forenoon with my host in seeing the sports still going on at the neighbouring village of Luntar, which were preliminary to a feast which was to close the some twenty days’ festivities—a sort of high pagan mass for the rest of the soul of its Chief's father. In the village was collected a large crowd from surround- ing margas and even from as far as Palembang, the scene 188 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS s} ss - - resembling a village feeing fair at home. At the outskirts we came on small booths for the sale of eatables, fruits, and sweetmeats; but everywhere else each little crowd had in its nucleus a gaming-table of some sort. First favourite was a stall where a mat spread on the ground was marked off into various denominations of staking, odd or even, and on any number up to five. Its presiding genius, with a countenance as stolid as the most approved banker at a roulette table, squatted on the ground with a saucer before him, on which he twirled the fatal teetotum, and with a most professional air covered it up with half a cocoa-nut shell so that it might run fair. When the “gentlemen” had all done staking, he lifted the lid with a flourish, declared the fates, paid his losses, and gathered in his little pile of gains, without moving a muscle of his face. He was a Palem anger, this sedate banker, with a sharp eye and a cruel expression of countenance, and, having learned wisdom, doubtless, among the comers and goers of that great commercial centre, he had come up the water to operate on the simple natives here. His stall was constantly surrounded by an eager crowd of patrons, ranging in age from eight years to forty harvests, who staked with untiring zeal various sums. from the two-fifths part of a penny up to two or three shillings. Games of chance of a like nature were going on in all directions; but I moved on to witness the heroic sport—the noble and national game of the country—Nyabung, or cock-fighting. The cock-pit, or Galanggan, was a large enclosure some twenty feet square, railed in by stakes twelve to fourteen feet high, sufficiently far apart to enable those outside to see all that went on within. The cocks about to fight were handed over to the care of two officials, whose office is to direct affairs in the ring. By them were attached with scrupulous care long double-edged steel spurs, sharp as lances. As soon as the sound of the bedoog announced that this arena was to be occupied again, all other sports were instantly deserted, and the crowd pressed round the Galanggan. The cocks were brought into the ring by the proper officials, each holding his bird carefully with its leg armatures sheathed. Into this enclosure no one but the officials, the owners, and some favourite few were admitted. The two cocks were then held up before each IN SUMATRA. 189 other by the guwlangs, who ruffled for them their neck fea- thers, tugged their combs, patted them on the breast and sides, and shook them with a tremulous sort of instigating motion, performed with a knack and neatness which indicated the pro- fessional hand. This manceuvre whose execution is the envy of onlookers, is imitated by the children in the miniature cockerel fights that they get up before they are old enough to speak. When the fowls had been thus irritated they were allowed, while still in the hand, to have one dig at each other just to put them on their mettle, and with their terrible armatures bared, they were set facing each other, a few feet apart; and then came the charge. I shall never forget—for I was utterly unprepared for it from the stolid Malay—the yell and deafening shout of savage delight and excitement that arose from the up to that moment mute and eager but, to all appearance, unexcited crowd as the combatants rushed at each other, aud which was kept up all the time the conflict lasted ; nor how the gulangs, following on hands and knees, each close behind his fowl, watched each movement in silence with a glaring and excited eye—the rules of the ring prohibiting them from touching or reinstigating the cock during the continu- ance of a round—like nothing I can think of so much as the intense motions of a pointer close behind a warm scent, and at every onset they scanned their bird from side to side to see if it had sustained any injury. In the first combat that | witnessed both cocks were badly wounded in the first round ; one even fainted away. The seconds and supporters carried each their bird aside to apply restoratives, if possibly they might be able to continue the contest to a final issue. They bathed its head with cold water and administered some with a feather down its throat; a cloth was held over it to keep off the sun, and smoking pieces of wood held under its nostrils and over its comb. Fora time. it seemed as if the worst wounded would have to be declared vanquished, as it was unable to enter the lists, but his spirit came again on instigating him with a strange cock for a few minutes. After the same preliminary patting and facing and the solitary dig, they were again allowed to rush at each other; but after a few skirmishes the badly wounded bird turned tail and was declared the loser. In the second of the only two fights I ever 14 190 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS witnessed the combat was very short, but very fierce. Both birds were sorely wounded at the commencement, but in a short space one rolled over mortally wounded, with a gash in its side through which the four fingers could be passed. After both fights there was immediately heard the clinking of money, and a general rush to the Balai was made to settle their bets. Often £30 to £40 may be laid on a cock; and in a day’s gaming as much as £20) has been known to change hands. Cock-fighting is now strictly prohibited by the Govern- ment, which, only on special occasions, gives for a limited number of days permission to the chief of a marga to hold a tournament within his district, and for whose good conduct he is responsible. He is allowed to charge five per cent. on all transactions which take place, and a fee from all stall-holders as a sort of recompense for directing the affair and keeping order. With this percentage the Pangeran is able to provide a buffalo at little cost to himself, which is slain on the last day of this Vanity Fair, and followed by a general gormandising. From the nature of this whole entertainment one may hope that the dead Pangeran advance a full stage in bliss. The heavy rains that had delayed me several days here having cleared somewhat, I proceeded on my way northwards ; and, crossing the watershed of the Ogan, descended into the valley of the Inim, a large tributary of the Lamatang, another of the great branches of the Palembang river. The village customs in each of these great valley systems differ but slightly from each other; yet each has some distinctive characteristic; each has its own style of architecture; and each its own pattern of garments and hat-ornamentation. In religion the Inim people are Mahomedans. They bury their dead, however, in one large mound with the head east- wards ; the women lie alongside their husbands, but the chil- dren are buried anywhere their parents may wish, only never in the village mound. It was interesting to note how the navigability of the rivers influence the people even far inland. In these reaches I found Islamism of a purer form, and the people more learned in civilised ways; while in the upland regions not geographically distant, such as Kisam, Makakau, Semindo IN SUMATRA. 191 and the Blalau districts, which I had just traversed—high plateaus with which communication is difticult—the people still followed the pagan superstitions of past ages, and con- tinued the customs and rites of their great-great forefathers with little change. Passing through the village of Darma, where I noted with curiosity the skulls of divers species of animals nailed to the gable end of a house, which pertained, I was informed, to its Pangeran’s Tukang-binatang, or gamekeeper—a fact I might have guessed without asking (had I imagined that Pangerans had among their retinue such an official), since I was myself an inhabitant of a land where his professional brother hangs out as marks of his prowess a signboard just as barbarously garnished with the bodies of owls and hawks, weasels and inoffensive little squirrels, and every rare feathéred bird that visits his neighbourhood. I halted for the night at Muara Inim, a large village at the confluence of the Inim with the Lamatang and one of the important centres of commerce and civilisation in the Resi- dency. Once a week a small steamer comes here—120 miles from the coast—bringing mails and passengers and all the merchandise for the north-western Highlands of Palembang. It is the starting-point of the main cross-country road to Bencoolen and Padang, which after crossing the Inim ascends the western bank of the Lamatang through a rather monoto- nous strip of country, which I beguiled by examining the coal bands (of Pliocene age) that crop out at various points in the clayey marls on the roadside. Suddenly turning the corner near the village of Merapi, the traveller comes face to face with one of the most singular and picturesque mountains of Sumatra—the Cerillo Peak—which, though high, is, owing to the configuration of the country, not seen till one is close at its base. The Cerillo is a tall conical mountain on a somewhat nar- row base, rising irregularly till about 800 or 1000 feet from its summit, when it suddenly contracts into an inaccessible acute spire, like a gigantic finger pointing heavenward. I was not surprised to be told that among an ignorant people its singular shape had invested it with superstitious dread. The natives make long pilgrimages to it to speak with the Dewa that they 192 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS believe resides there, ascending to the highest accessible spot, where incense is offered and other ceremonies performed. A little farther on, as I neared the village of Lahat, the summit of the voleano of the Dempo whither I was bound, raised its head in the distance. After resting for a couple of days in the town, enjoying the hospitality of Mr. Van Houten, the Resident of the district, I pressed on north-westward. After a journey of afew hours up the Lamatang valley I entered, on climbing out of the gorge on to its high bank, a landscape with en- tirely new features. J looked out on what appeared to be an immense white sandy plain, which in reality was the plateau of the Passumah Lands, covered with grass, but with scarcely a trace of a tree anywhere—one of the singular features of this region, and one by no means common in the tropics. It is said that for at least 300 years there has been no forest here; but that previously, however, there were trees which had been destroyed by a great fire. That a conflagration should have burned up such an immense tract, leaving no clumps or unin- jured seeds of any kind in the soil to start a second crop of arboreal vegetation, seems very doubtful. In Ceylon however, in the midst of great forest regions, there occur tracts, marked off with singular sharpness from the surrounding forest, in which no trees are to be found. Perhaps the bareness of this plateau may be the result of some such train of circumstances, or perhaps it may owe its peculiarity to the effect of eruptions of the overshadowing volcano, towards which the plateau slopes gently upwards. At noon I reached the first of those singular gorges which are another characteristic feature of the plateau. Its sides descended precipitously to the bed of a small river which was running in a narrow channel cut through the solid rock, on which the marks of the former levels of its water were plainly graved, and descended under a narrow bridge that spanned it in a series of pretty cascades. A few miles farther, on taking a sharp turn of the road, I suddenly found myself on the brink of a precipice over whose edges I could dizzily see, more than 500 feet sheer below me, the foaming Endicat river spanned by a picturesque roofed bridge. ‘Till close on the edge of the precipice it was impossible for the eye to detect the slightest sign of a gorge; it roamed over what seemed a nearly level IN SUMATRA. 193 country. The descent and ascent were made by long difficult corkscrew paths cut in the face of cliffs, that were densely clothed with trees which from the steepness of the slope clung close to its sides. On again gaining the level of the plateau, and looking back from a little distance, the eye ranged over the chasm without perceiving any trace of it. This scenery recalled the descriptions I had read ‘of the singular canons of the Yellowstone River in North Ameriea. At frequent intervals over all the plateau I passed tabats or lakelets of various sizes, the result probably of slight subsi- dences of the ground which, curiously enough, are full of fish, though they have often no river running out of them. The same afternoon I reached Bandar, and the next day held on to the village of Pagar Alam. From Pagar Alam to my destination at the little village of Pau, lying 3500 feet above the sea level on the slope of the Dempo, where it begins to raise its majestic mass more erectly, was but a forenoon’s march. The village of Pau was very small, and its Balai of minute dimensions. Without an hour’s delay, however, I set about enlarging and rendering it habit- able. By the combined efforts of the greater portion of the inhabitants of two villages which lay within a few minutes’ walk, we floored the place, railed off a part for a sleeping apartment and fitted a bed into it, furnished the outer portion with a table and a door, which we made out of that blessedest of all the vegetable productions of a toolless and saw-mill-less land, the bamboo; and before nignt I had unpacked all my baggage, books, and apparatus, and settled into my neat abode with feelings of the utmost satisfaction and contentment after my thirty-five days’ march. The village lay on the road leading to Bencoolen, and as once a week a large market was held near Pagar Alam, I had an opportunity of seeing not a few of the people of the districts towards the sea-coast, as they came often to the markets in the way of trade, and often passed a night in the village. As a sort of good- will exhibition towards the villagers, and a return for their hospitality they would often give a musical performance. or engage in a dance. One of the latter interested me much. The dance itself was very much like the Lampong dances, calm and attitudinal, but with the addition of lighted tapers, 194 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS ee ee EE fixed in small saucers ‘held in the hands. ‘The seriousness, however, of the performance was enlivened by the introduction of a comical element. Closely imitating in an exaggerated manner ‘all the motions of the dancer, but affecting to keep in his rear and out of sight, was another dancer simulating the tool, who was quite ignored as if entirely unperceived by the principal performer, but at whose remarks, gestures, and erimaces, all the people laughed heartily. Here we had the simple elements of the theatrical performance—an embryo play with two performers. When one asks a Passumah man whence his forefathers came in the J'empo-dulu, in the days of yore, the reply is often either from Dewa, or from the sun, or from Alexander the Great (Sekander Alam); but to most of them the matter is shrouded in mystery. Hearinz, however, of a chief of a distant village specially learned in these matters, I sent for him to come to visit me. He was the son of a very high chief in their independent days, and as such, the history of the Passumah Lands had been instilled into him from a boy, as part of the education that belonged to his rank. I found him wonderfully versed in all the old ways and customs of the Passumah people, and my only regret is that I had not then the knowledge on which to found many questions which I should now like to know replies to. I wrote down from his lips many of their strange ceremonial formulas, which are difficult to find nowadays save inscribed on some old bamboo er lontar-leaf, which may have happily survived the ravages of the boring beetle and the frequent village fires. Not the least curious was his account of the creation: How different sorts of birds, with curious but not meaningless names, pro- duced eggs from which in the fulness of time escaped the solid earth and the sky, the moon, the stars and the sun; then the grass plains and the forests, the sandy shore and the coral ; how the sky wept and there came the rains and the deep sea ; how then the Dewas were, and the hierarchy of good gods and the company of evil spirits; how the Dewas reproduced and marriage was; Adam married with Uwo (Eve?), the earth married with the sky, and the mist with the clouds and Allah gave conception to all things. The Passumah people are a tall strong race, with well and IN SUMATRA. 195 intelligently moulded faces ; the nose with a rather prominent and straight dorsum, the eyes sunk deeply in the head, the cheek-bones projecting, but without the prominent thick lips so distinctive of the Malay face. ‘They are very independent, somewhat surly in heart and desperately lazy people; not very friendly inclined to their neighbours in the adjoining districts. They are by no means dishonest, and live peace- fully among themselves. Their children are lively and amused with little; but neither of their parents trouble them- selves much about them after they are old enough to run about by themselves. ‘They were rather afraid to allow me to submit their length and breadth to the test of the measur- ing-line, dreading lest the measure of their bcdies should PASSUMAH BRACELETS OF SII.VER, SHOWING THE ORNAMENTATION DERIVED FROM THE YOUNG SHOOTS OF THE BAMBOO, bear some sinister relation to the span of their existence. After giving, however, the most pacifying assurances, I found ten men and five women bold enough to risk the danger. The average height of the men was 5 feet 4:15 inches, the length of his arm 11-23 inches, and of his forearm to the tip of his longest finger 2 feet 5-1 inches, while in the women the corresponding measurements were, 5 feet 0°75 inches in stature, 11:35 inches in length of arm, and 2 feet 3:85 inches of forearm. The tallest man was 5 feet 8:25 inches, and the most herculean of the women 5 feet 2°75 inches. The men dress as in other districts. The women, especially the maidens, are strong, well proportioned and well developed ; many of them are very good-looking, having, what is rare among 196 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS the Malay races, characteristically marked red cheeks. They wear usually only one garment, a loin-cloth fastened below the breasts and reaching to the middle of the thigh. Their arms are decked from the wrist to the elbow with tiers of silver bracelets, and the lower joint of every finger with as many rings as it ean hold, but they did not exhibit any delicate ideas about spoiling their lustre, and, notwithstanding the incongruity of the combination, I have often seen them grubbing up roots with their jewelled fingers, and filling baskets with earth to the clang of their bracelets. Marriage between members of the same village or village cluster is prohibited among the Passumah people; in some districts even those of the same marga are within the bonds of consanguinity recognised by them. The two forms already described at page 151 as practised in the Lampongs I found existing here also: the one by simple purchase ; the other (ambil-anak) by which the father of the bride adopts his son- in-law into his family, more as a slave, however, than as a son.* The position of the man married by the latter arrange- ment recalls in his utter subserviency to the woman—her property never passing to him as long as the marriage bond remains, and his children always hers—the insignificant and pitiable position of the paterfamilias among the Egyptians under the Ptolemies, in which “the woman owned all and ruled all; the man was a helpless dependant. Asa child he was the property of his mother and as a married man the pensioner of his wife.” + On the day of the marriage the youth and his bride come before the Head of the village, who is as it were both king and priest. After offering to the Dewa incense of benzoin, and sprinkling over them rice yellowed with cureuma powder, he reads what may in truth be called their marriage service, a long and singular formula of great interest, called “Sawé berdundin,” which I had the good fortune to obtain a copy of in the rentjong character inscribed on a bamboo. It is a * This is really a vemnant of the ancient Matriarchal System, in which descent followed ia the female line. Consult “Over de Verwantschap en het Huwelijksen Erfeet bij de Volken van den Indischen Archipel,” by G. A. Wilkin, also Midden Sumatra, by P of. P. J. Veth. + The Times: “Buried Treasure *»—Jan. 1882. > IN SUMATRA. 19 sort of invocation to all their pagan pantheon, among whom one is invoked as dwelling within the Nine Mists, to bestow their blessing on the union. Another of their curious customs I saw performed during my stay in the village. It happened that a young girl had fallen clandestinely with child (an offence of great magni- tude among them) whose father it was incumbent on the chief of the village to discover and report to the chief of his marga. | } | r | ORNAMENTED BELT-BUCKLE. animals quite foreign to the Austro-Malayan region, which must have been brought by the Malays, though it is incredible that in their small praus they would carry so great a quadruped as a buffalo. The Timor-laut tribes have, moreover, been long notorious for their piratical habits, attacking ‘all boats passing near their shores, making slaves of the men, and concubines of the women. In the boats that called at Ritabel on their way home from various parts of the group I have seen being taken back with them women, whom the chain binding them to the mast proclaimed to be slaves captured or bought. ‘The IN TIMOR-LAUT. 313 Buginese and Macassar traders also carry on a considerable traffic in slaves, bringing them from Halmaheira and the coasts of Borneo and Celebes. In this way also may be accounted for some of the race-mingling. The clothing of the men consists of a narrow T-shaped loin- cloth, with the ends which hang down in front decorated with red, black and white patchwork, and adorned with sections of cowrie- shells and with beads. The women wear a short sarong (Malay petticoat), artistically woven by themselves out of the fibres of the Aloan-palm (Borassus flabelliformis), suspended by a broad belt made from the stem of its leaf and fastened by an elaborately earved buckle of wood which frequently in married women has been the gift of her husband at the time when her purchase-money was agreed on, possibly a sort of engagement token. Armlets eut from conus shells, of brass, ef ivory, or of wood, carved like those worn by the Hill Dyaks of Borneo, are worn by both sexes ; while the women have in addition toe-rings and anklets of brass. Round the helix and in the lobe of their ears the women wear a graduated series of silver or of gold lor- lora or rings, which in the case of the men is often so heavy as to break away the cartilage. The patterns of these ear orna- ments are exceedingly chaste, especially those carved out of bone, of ivory and ebony combined, or of the tooth of the rare and highly-prized dugong (Halicore). Both sexes tatoo a few simple devices, circles, stars and pointed crosses, on the breast, on tle brow, on the cheek, and on the wrists ; and scar, with the utmost equani- mity, their arms and shoulders with red hot stones in imitation of small-pox marks, as a charm that will ward off, they think, that disease. I did not, however, see any one variola-marked, nor could I learn of an epidemic of the disease having appeared among them. As it was considered by the women a mark of beauty to have filed teeth, some of them had only a narrow rim left protruding from their gums. The men spend a life of savage indolence or indulgence, the women alone are always busily occupied. In the morning, i ) / fl i Hy IN EARRING, 314 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS ai eae A Oe IS after arranging their hair, the men remove from the palm- trees, Invi ariably to the chanting of a song of invocation, the bamboos with the tuak collected’ in them over night, and trim the stem for running during the day to supply their evening libations. ‘Than when ascending the trees the Tenimber athlete, his fautless form against the sky, and his brown skin and golden hair in contrast with the grey stem of the tree, never shows to greater advantage. The chief meal of the day lasts from about eight o'clock till nearly noon, and consists of boiled Indian corn meal, mixed with mashed manioc and peas, along with fish—hunted for along the shore with bow and arrow, or by scattering’ on the water rice steeped in an infusion of a poisonous vine—and a very great deal of palm wine, fresh drawn as well as distilled. The meal is partaken of in considerable companies together in large sheds open at the gables in or near the village, generally in the buildings where their ¢wak is being distilled, which are used also for common assembly rooms. Very few of the older men leave the meal sober, or become “ capable ” during the rest of the day, a condition in which they are boisterously talkative, querulous and pugnacious. The women eat in private, or snatch a bite of food when they can. All day long two ceaseless sounds are heard, the click-clack of their looms and the dull thud of the stamping of Indian corn and peas in large tridacna shells. If the women are not thus employed they are away by prahu, accompanied by some of the younger men, to fetch the necessary stores from their gardens. In these plantations, made in the forest on the poor soil which covers the underlying coral rocks, they cultivate sweet potatoes, manioc, sugar cane, and their staple food, Indian corn, with a little rice (which grows very badly), some cotton, and a good deal of tobacco, whose leaves they chew but do no¢ smoke. In time of war the common safety is watched all night by the villagers, eight or ten at a time in rotation, who dance the ‘Tjikelele round a figure of their deity, or Duadilah, each man beating with his hand on a cylindrical drum, singing to its accompaniment a song or invocation with a wild and shrieking chorus, which at the time of full moon is kept up for many unbroken days and nights. Their arms are a shield, often elaborately carved and IN TIMOR-LAUT. 315 — adorned with the hair of their enemies, bows and arrows, and various forms of iron or copper pointed lances and spears, which they can use with marvellous precision, and a long sword carried in a loop in a buffalo-hide corslet to fit beneath the arms made by themselves, and resembling a 16th century cuirass, of which it is probably a copy. They use also counterfeit Tower guns (made in Singapore), but as they fill them with gunpowder almost to the muzzle they are nothing like the dangerous weapon—except to themselves—that their unerring arrow is. A man may have as many wives as he can purchase, but as a rule it is all he can do to secure one, till, at least, he is con- siderably advanced in years, and has disposed of some of his daughters for gold earrings and elephants’ tusks, two factors which cannot be eliminated from the bargain, and are not over common. ‘These tusks are brought chiefly from Singapore and Sumatra where they cost 200 or 300 florins each, by the Buginese traders, who with the westerly winds seek out the creeks and bays of the “far, far East” to exchange them for trepang and tortoiseshell. The father of the girl has often to wait a long time for the ivory portion of her price; but he hands her over, on the payment of the other items of the bargain, to her purchaser, who takes up his abode in her housg, where she and her children remain as hostages till the full price is paid. A girl sorely wounded by the Blind God occasionally takes the settlement of affairs into her own hands, and runs away with the object of her affection, without the permission of her parents, a proceeding which does not relieve him of the purchase money. If, however, she had been or was about to be disposed of to another man, and had eloped with a more desired youth, she would be forcibly seized and her companion would be punished with death. Their wives, if not treated with a great show of affection, are not subjected to much restraint or subjection, and live a free and not unhappy life. The opening months of a Tenimber’s islander’s existence are not passed ona bed of roses. Strolling through the village one evening we were beckoned into a hut to see a newly born infant. It was lying quite naked, with only a hard palm-spathe be- neath its back and a square inch or so of cloth on its stomach, 516 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS in a rude cradle er Stéwela, a rough rattan basket suspended so as to rock over a fire in a smoke so dense that we were amazed that it was not suffocated. Occasionally the nurse drops CARVED COMB, ORNAMENTED WITH INLAID BONE. to sleep, and the fire burns the bottom out of the Stwela, and the child is worse off than if it had been bitten by all the mos- quitos of Larat, to be free from which it is so suspended. The IN TIMOR-LAUT. 317 child, it would seem, is invariably laid in exactly the same posi- tion in the cradle, either on its back or on one side according to the place of its suspension in the house, with the result that the hinder part of its head becomes quite flattened. In some living infants the deformity was very prominent, and that it remains permanent is evidenced by one of the crania of a full-grown man which I brought home; but no sort of binding is applied to the head in any stage of their youth, as among many tribes, to induce an abnormal and admired shape of head. The artistic ability of the Timor-laut people is unquestionably very high. They are very deft-fingered and clever carvers of wood and ivory. The “ figure-heads ” of their outrigger praus, dug out of single trees, especially attract attention by the excellence of the workmanship, carefully and patiently executed, and the elegance of their furnishings; while the whole length of the central pillars of their houses are also most elaborately carved with intricate patterns and _ representa- tions of crocodiles and other animals. Their appreciation of beauty is a charac- teristic of them, which, absolutely wanting in the Malay people, I was surprised to find among a less advanced race. While walking through the forest they invariably pluck and tastefully arrange in a hole in their comb which is there for the very purpose, any particularly bright bunch of flowers they see. Their houses, though little more than floor and roof, are very neat structures, elevated. four or five feet above the ground, and entered by a stair through a trap-door cut in the floor, which is shut down and slotted at night. In front of the door is a seat of honour—dodokan —with ornamented supports and a high carved back, on the top of which is placed an image—Duadilah—with, at its 22 ORNAMENTED CHALK- HOLDER. 318 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS side, a platter whereon a morsel of food is offered every time they eat in its presence. Hvery time they drink they dip their finger and thumb in the fluid, and flick a drop or two upward ‘with a few muttered words of invocation. Along the four sides spaces for sleeping on are raised some nine to twelve inches above the level of the rahanralan or floor of the house. The inmates sleep on small, neatly made bamboo mats, and rest their heads on a piece of squared bamboo with rounded edges, exactly similar to the Chinese pillow. In one ND LMR KZ a, : jh w) > \ 47 i a lige (ik Cdl =) ; Pek) s pik ie uC vi Lie ME | Lic, és A util ati “Z, ! : Wi me Ly \\ Pe te li age ee Tink Nee - Ly, Epes Ar, f £ cell LE nae ; Ly 2 1 a) fii 7 we, wy) ATI An a ‘i in g Vin ANN Rin pity eg ANWITIAN NUN ms i _ Ni rR * soe SIM f == _ ‘il Hal =] ia og et 3 a SS : hah rare ee ele Eh HOUSE IN TIMOR-LAUT. gable is the foean or fire-place, and opposite to it on a trellis- work platform is placed the cranium of the father of the Head of the house. Indian corn and other comestibles and various articles are stored on little platforms stretching between the rafters, and their scanty clothing and other articles are sus- pended from the roof by wooden contrivances often elaborately designed and elegantly carved (see pp. 320, 324). After seeing how ‘elaborately covered almost everything they used was with carvings, executed with undoubted taste and surprising skill, IN TIMOR-LAUT. 319 we began to ask ourselves, first, Can such artistically developed people be savages ?—and, next, the more difficult question, What is a savage ? The Tenimberese are very independent in character; “every man his own master” is their motto. Though they Hane an Orang Kaya or Chief, his voice has but little more influence than any other full-aged man’s. The “old men’s” opinion has some weight with the younger men, but every man speaks out Lill / eaees [ SO Le ed TE LLL EIS 2 6 te, a LLL TT TET IR TTT PA AY) Neg) " oa ‘ = SABES \) RM io ty JEN SAN me - > ey Wes 42 a'wm: a \ ) LEAN \ wT lene i Gs ERE 22 \ =e) = pa? WY SS Ze 38) HOUSE IN TIMOR-LAUT, WITH ROOF REMOVED TO SHOW THE INTERIOR. his mind boldly and fearlessly. When any serious deliberation is going on, the whole community crowds round the assembly room, the women even taking part, and expressing freely and without offence their opinions. The voice of the majority is the law of their community. Their moral characteristics are such as might be expected from a rude people subject to no restraint ; they are sensual, though no immorality in their actions or in their carvings ever comes to the public gaze. They are essentially selfish and 320 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS devoid of all feelings of gratitude or pity. To give anything for nothing would be a breach of all their hereditary instincts. “ On one occasion, towards the end of our stay, when our larder was empty and our men were away in the northern island of Molu, a bunch of fish, which A was sorely in need of aftera long bout of fever, was brought to us for sale; but the barter demanded was a particular kind of button, of which we had not a single example remain- ing. We offered almost anything they might choose from our stock-—cloth, knives, beads—nothing, however, but the button would satisfy them. Give us the fishes the owner would not; instead, he hung them on a peg at our very door, where we dared not have touched them, where they remained till next day, when I had to fetch him to relieve us of the putrefying odouz, Z which he did by casting them into SUSPENSORY ConTRIVANCE the sea! Where they think they can Pe Tk Rees escape detection they le and steal without compunction, though their laws punish the latter with slavery, from which the thief can be ransomed only by a great sum. When sober they are good natured enough and live in harmony with each other, but in their cups they are easily offended. To their enemies they are savagely cruel, executing on those that fall into their hands the most revolting atrocities before affixing their dismembered quarters to their public places. Like all untutored races they.are very inquisitive. They watched our “manners and customs” as eagerly as we did theirs. From morning to night we had constant relays lying in or sitting about our house, whom it was impossible to dis- miss without giving offence. Though it was a very interesting study and there was much to be learned from watching those big children in their various moods, it was not quite pleasant to have them always with us, or to take our food with an infinitesi- IN TIMOR-LAUT. 321 mally clad savage sitting at the table, rubbing his hips against our plates. Happily, I observed one day that they had a mighty horror of snakes, which supplied me with an effectual means of ridding ourselves when oyer-burdened with their com- pany. I would cautiously proceed to insert my hand without any apparent reference to our visitors, into the large tin in which my spirit specimens were kept, an operation they pressed closely and intently round me to watch. A vigorous splutter inside made them draw back somewhat ; but on withdrawing my hand with a writhing snake, the crowd would tumble over each other out at the door screaming and shouting. As they never waited to see the end of the operation, they never came to know that I had not a mania for keeping live snakes. In the treatment of their children, both parents were inva- riably kind and affectionate. ‘To see the fathers carrying about their children in the evenings, with kindly care, one could scarcely believe in the savage ferocity of their natures, as we had seen it exhibited more than once. Like mothers eyvery- where else, the women seemed pleased at the notice A would take of their infants, who, like those with white skins, derived amusement from little dolls—stuffed with rice grains instead of sawdust ; and the little packets of sugar she often gave them were inylolately kept though tempting enough to the mothers also, and given to them little by little. All their children were profusely adorned with beads and necklets, and their little limbs were encased in perfect bucklers of shell armlets. The youths and boys ‘used to play in the evenings in the most lively manner, often in company with the younger fathers, while a crowd of interested villagers looked on. One of their ereat amusements was the sailing of miniature boats elegantly made out of gaba-gaba, or sago palm stems, which they entered for championship in spirited regattas. They would build also forts of sand, and defend them against their comrade foes with balls of wet mud. The laughter which hailed a good hit told of the enjoyment and interest of the on-looking crowd of villagers of all ages. Their chief game, however, one more of skill and precision than the others, was played with dises cut off from the top of conus shells, of which each player had two One of these quoits he deposited in a little depression in the ground, and the other he played from a crease a few yards 322 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS distant, so as to dislodge a quoit from the row. If the player failed to hit he had to return to the crease to play again in his turn, but if he succeeded he played a second time from-where his quoit rested. Passing his right hand holding the disc round to his left side as far as he could stretch, and steadying tt with his left hand, he would take in this position steady aim, caleu- lating with a glancing eye the spot he intended to hit, then with a run forward a few steps to the crease, he would deliver with all his might. Not only did the young lads and boys engage in this game, but even the grown-up men joined with much bois- terous laughter. At a very early age the children begin to wade about the shallow margins of the sea, practising with spear and arrow the capture of fish, training arm and eye till when they have come of age, they have attained an almost unerring accuracy of aim. A fine exhibition was to be witnessed of the beauty of the human figure when the youths—fine fellows in the perfection of their manhood-—came out at sundown to practise the drawing of the bow or throwing of the lance. How awkward were the attempts of myself and my Amboinese boys! How well-merited their good-natured jeering! The marvellous grace, however, of the human form was unsur- passingly exhibited when—the setting sun behind their lissom untrammelled figures—the women were returning from the fields, standing erect at the stern, and with long strokes poling in their buoyant praus. One view might shame half of the spine-deformed, waist-distorted slaves of fashion out of eus- toms, which are as barbarous as any which are recorded as strange or hurtful among savage peoples. When a man dies, his children and relatives assemble to lament his departure, but I have never seen any outward expression or sign of mourning. A pig is killed, but I am in doubt whether it is given to the assembled people to eat or laid with the dead body, which is then placed in a portion of a prau fitted to the length of the individual, or within strips of gaba-gaba, or stems of the sago palm pinned together. If it is a person of some consequence, such as an Orang Kaya, an ornate and decorated prau-shaped coffin is specially made, ‘This is then enveloped in calico, and placed either on the top of a rock by the margin of the sea at a short distance from the village, or on a high pile-platform erected on the shore about IN TIMOR-LAUT. 323 low-tide mark. On the top of the coffin-lid are erected tail flags, and the figures of men playing gongs, shooting guns, and gesticulating wildly to frighten away evil influences from the ; WH GRAVE OF A NATIVE CHIEF, sleeper. Sometimes the platform is erected on the shore above high-water mark, and near it is stuck in the ground a tall bamboo full of palm-wine ; and suspended over a bamboo rail 524 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS are bunches of sweet potatoes for the use of the dead man’s Nitu. Two days after the burial, the family go to bathe and wash their hair; and after two days more they search for ten fishes and one tortoise wherewith to give a feast, which is finished with siri and libations of palm-wine. When the body is quite decomposed, his son, or one of the family, disinters the skull and deposits it on a little platform in his house, in the gable opposite the fire-place, while to ward off evil from himself he carries about with him the atlas and axis bones of its neck in his Zw, or siri-holder. The bodies of those who die in war or by a violent death are buried, and not placed on CARVED SUSPENSORY CONTRIVANCES. rocks or on a platform, where only such as die naturally are deposited; and if his head has been captured a cocoa-nut is placed in the grave to represent the missing member, and to deceive and satisfy his spirit. I am doubtful if these rites are always faithfully performed, for on walking along the shore I have often seen, where the coffin has fallen to pieces, complete crania on the rocks where the body had been deposited, while occipital and frontal bones, mingling with jaws of pigs, lay quite uncared for on the shore. The dead man’s spirit, they say, goes to Nusa Nitu, or Mara- matta—* an island near to Ceram,” which the navigator passes fearful and vigilant, believing he hears strange unsiren sounds wafted out to him on the sea, and is thankful when the Home of the Spirits has sunk down in the horizon behind him. IN TIMOR-LAUT. 325 Northward from Ritabel, our village, the shore of the channel was dotted with detached coral boulders, on each of which several corpses reposed, whence the most fearful stench used especially after rain, to come down the wind. Whether this, or the Convolvulacee and creeping Papilionacew that flowered in abundance there, was the attracting cause I cannot say; but certain it is that these most pestiferous spots were our richest butterfly grounds. There A caught the new Hypolymnas forbesti, Terias laratensis, and among many others two different species, Callipleeca visenda and Chanapa sacerdos—which it was next to impossible to distinguish on the wing from their mimicking each other—both new to science, while the lovely Ptilopus wallacii frequented in crowds the fig-trees that over- hung this foetid shore, 526 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS CHAPTER V. SOJOURN IN TIMOR-LAUT—continued. Religion and superstitions—Visit to Waitidal—Barter for a skull—Send my ‘hunters to the northern islands of the group—Climate of Timor-laut— A mauvais quart @heure—Desiznation of the group—Geographical and geological features. Tur Tenimber islanders recognise some supreme existence whom they call Duadilah, of whom there is an image in their houses, over the principal seat, or dodokan, facing the entrance, with at its side a platter, or bélaan, on which a little food and drink is placed whenever they themselves eat. From their luvus, among the other heterogeneous odds and ends which it con- tains, they can generally produce one small image, sometimes more. ‘Their little gods vary in form according to the occupa- tion they are engaged in; but in what light they regard them I could not discover. Singularly enough, one cf these images (on the left hand, p. 327) has a most wonderful resemblance to one brought by Mr. Wallace from New Guinea, and figured in his.‘ Malay Archipelago. That they have a firm belief in a powerful, chiefly an avenging, spirit I feel certain. One day a stranger to the village had his loin-cloth stolen. After several days had passed without his recovering it, we were surprised to see a boat urgently propelled across the bay, from which the owner of the stolen cloth impulsively sprang, bringing with him a small red flag on the end of a slender pole. This he erected on the spot whence his cloth had dis- appeared, and after looking up with a steady and penetrating eye and repeating in a most tragic and excited manner a long imprecation against the thief and the village, he removed the pole, jumped into his boat, and, without accosting any one, withdrew in the same urgent manner from the now doomed village. IN TIMOR-LAUT. 3927 As the constant dread of attack by the Kaleobar tribe on our village, by keeping us in a daily state of suspense and anxiety, restricted my operations to a narrow area, I proposed to the native Postholder that we should together visit that village to DUADILAH. try what could be done by personal influence to establish peace. He, however, seemed by no means willing to accompany me, excusing himself on the plea that the people of W aitidal the next village, which had lost more than our own by Kaleobar raids, would oppose a peace. I therefore determined first to 328 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS cS sound them on the subject. Accompanied by an Orang Kaya or chief, from Sera, on the west coast, who happened to be in Ritabel on a visit, and who spoke a little Malay, I proceeded to Waitidal. As like most of the Tenimberese villages, it was situated on a flat space of some extent on the summit of a bluff which stood a good way back from the shore, we had in order to reach the gateway to ascend the perpendicular face of the cliff by a steep wooden trap stair, which I observed was of dark-red wood, its sides elaborately sculptured with alligators and lizards, and surmounted by a carved head on each side. On entering I saluted those near the gate, but we were rather coldly received. As we proceeded up the centre of the vil- lage two elderly men, who were evidently intoxicated, rushed at us with poised spears, gesticulating and shouting to those around to oppose us. The tumult brought out the Orang Kaya, whose approach prevented any immediate act of hos- tility, and to him my guide explained the object of our visit. Having shaken hands with us—a sign of friendship— he, accompanied by the older men, conducted us to his house, through the door-hole of which I ascended with the uneasy feeling of entering a trap. My proposals being fully ex- plained to them, they were received at first with little oppo- sition, till my intoxicated friends joined the circle. One was evidently a man of some importance in the village, and at once opposed the project in a spirit of hostility, which gradually spread to the others. As no palaver is ever conducted without profuse libations raw palm-spirit distilled by themselves, was passed round in cocoanut-shell cups, and I was expected to keep pace—no slow one—with their drinking. As the spirit circulated the hostile feeling developed, especially as the discussion had merged into another, viz., that I should be per- suaded to leave Ritabel and dwell in Waitidal. They found I had sold much cloth and knives in Ritabel, but had brought none over to them ; I could have plenty of fowls among them ; they would find me no end of birds, and would not cheat me in the way the Ritabel people were doing. To this, of course, I could not agree, and put my refusal as pleasantly as I could.. I tried to bring the palaver to a close by rising to leave; but this they would not permit, for one of them barred my exit by sitting on guard on the top of the hatch. I shortly IN TIMOR-LAUT. 329 discovered that the subject of their excited wrangling was whether I should be permitted to leaye at all. My guide, after whispering to me not to be alarmed and adding a remark I did not comprehend, went away, luckily leaying the door open, intending, as I imagined, to return soon ; but he either joined some other drinking party and forgot to do so, or purposely left me to my own resources. Pretending to be quite pleased to prolong my visit, I presented my cup for more spirit, and as successive rounds were filled my companions became in- capable of observing that I did not drain my cup till I had passed its contents through the floor, and was imperceptibly nearing the now open trap-door. I took the first opportunity of diving through the orifice, and with a bold step shaped my course for the stairway at the top of the rock, where I felt I could dispute my departure on even terms. My guide appeared with rather a hang-dog look, and we wasted no time in getting to our boat and rowing out some distance from the shore. I did not venture a second time amongst them, although the villagers of Waitidal in order to secure a share of the cloths and other goods I was disposing of, came over constantly to our village in twos or threes, to barter provisions, carved work, and ethnological objects. On one occasion an amusing incident occurred during the purchase from a Waitidal man of acranium. He had brought me, with the usual secrecy, a fine skull, but fitted with a lower jaw which I saw did not belong to it. I pointed out the fact, and urged him to make a search for the corresponding bone. After arguing the point along time with- out effect, he thought he had settled matters by saying, “ There is really no mistake ; I remember quite well when my father was alive he had just this sort of under jaw!” Finding it was no good and that I would not trade, he went his way ; but ina few hours he came back with a beaming face—he had found his father’s lower jaw. His father’s brother had been laid down on the same stone, hence the mistake. I traded to his dutiful son’s satisfaction, who, before giving me possession, inserted a piece of pinang nut between its teeth, and in a most reveren- tial manner paid his last invocation to the Head of his line. That son’s welfare is regulated now from the Mammalian Gallery of the British Museum ! a The Postholder, backed by the action of the Waitidal 330 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS people, would not venture to Kaleobar, and I did not consider it prudent to go alone. We had therefore to bear with equanimity what could not be remedied ; but it was galling to be in a new and unknown country and be tied to a few acres of it, without being able to cross the mainland to the west coast, or to penetrate farther south from want of guides, and especially of carriers to accompany me; for, contrary to the general statement that there exists a “black frizzly-headed savage people in the interior,” * there are absolutely no in- habitants in the interior of Timor-laut. Villages occur pretty thickly along the coasts, except on the northern portion, where there does not appear to be any population at all. As the Postholder was about to pay a visit to the outlying islands of Maru and Molu, which were inhabited by a very friendly people, I decided to send with him my two men—as I dared not myself leave my Herbarium to the care of a native, and my stores and collections unguarded—to collect and bring me all the information they could on the points I instructed them on, while I continued my operations on the still fruitful region to which I had access. The climate of Timor-laut is one of extreme insalubrity. For the first eighteen to twenty days none of my company suffered in the least ; but that period seemed to be with us all the limit of resistance to the deleterious miasma. The fever, the result in great part of the bad water (there being no streams in the district), and of the strong south-east winds that then supervened was one of great severity. Coming on with sickness, the temperature rose rapidly to 103°-105° accompanied with strong delirium, which in A ’*s case continued for nearly three weeks with but short intervals of release. During the continuance of the fever—which happily rarely attacked us both on the same day, a circumstance that enabled us to aid each other—the two most effectual remedies were, besides quinine, salicilate of soda and chloroform, the latter especially very rapidly lowering the temperature and inducing perspiration. Neither of us will likely ever forget our fever-attack of August 27th. A , wretchedly weak and reduced from wecks of almost continuous fever, was assisting me to get up after a * Stanford’s Compendium, Australasia, by A. R. Wallace. IN TIMOR-LAUT. 331 bad day of the same about the hour the village was going to rest for the night. A terrific shot from a native gun—alway s charged to the very muzzle—startled the whole community. Blois of “Kaleobar” resounded everywhere. Like a dis- turbed ant’s-nest the villagers, every man with his arrow on the string ora sheaf of javelins in his hand, one of them ready poised, clustered out round the barricades shouting and ges- ticulating. We were alone—the Postholder and our men not having returned from Molu—except for one servant, use- less in such a case. After barricading the door and sliding an explosive shell into my Martini, with a cheery word to my companion who held ready a handful of cartridges, and a hasty look to see if the boat which, unknown to her, I had purchased expressly for perhaps such an emergency was still riding by its line to the piliar of the house, to serve as a last means of escape, I stood ready at the open window for what might follow. A sudden silence of the shouting supervened, a period of acute suspense to us, whose window did not look out on the barricades, and then the chief’s son came to tell us that the shot was an accidental discharge of a late-returning villager’s gun. It was a mawvais quart d'heure, short but (eatily trying, which showed how tense was the nervous ex- pectancy under which the whole village was living. The eaction of relief was nearly as difficult to endure as the suspense had been. Besides fever, which affected the natives also, few diseases existed on the islands. With the exception of that curious fungoid skin disease so common among the Papuan races, of a little scrofula, and, among the old people, rheumatic affections of the hands and limbs, the people were very healthy. Among other interesting facts, I learned from the inhabi- tants that the name of Timor-laut was quite unknown to them. This is a Malay appellation, probably given by the Macassar traders, who, falling on a large island farther in the sea than the one they best knew as the Easterly iske—which the name Timor signifies—designated this, by Timor-laut or the Eastern Island in the Sea. Another derivation of the name has been given that the appellation of the group is not Tvmor- laut but Timorlao, in which the termination Jao means far, and that, therefore, their designation signifies the Far-east 332 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Islands. I could not discover that they gave any general name to the whole group; but they invariably designated the mainland of the northern of the two larger islands by the name Yamdena, while they spoke of the southern portion as Selaru, which, in their language, is the word for Indian corn. In examining the Tenimber islands, one is struck with the resemblance that exists between them and the Aru group, in the curious way in which both are cut up by narrow channels. “Some of the southern islands of Aru (I quote from the narrative of the voyage of the Dutch corvette Triton in 1828) are of considerable extent, but those to the north, lying close to the edge of the bank, are rarely more than five or six miles in circumference. The land is low, being only a few feet above the level of the sea except in spots where patches of rock rise to the height of twenty feet, but the lofty trees which cover the face of the country give it the appearance of being much more elevated.” The island of Larat is separated from the mainland by a narrow strait, which I have designated with the honoured name of the author of the ‘ Malay Archipelago’—Wallace Channel, which forms a fairly good harbour at its northern entrance, but shallows away towards the south end so much that only small boats can come through it at low tide, and in fact, to the sonth of Ritabel village the bottom can be reached all the way across, with the exception of a few yards, by a poling- rod. Between Larat and Vordate there is, in calm weather, a safe channel, yet on Captain Stanley’s authority it is quite shoal. The sea to the northward, again, is very shallow, only narrow passages separating the islands of Frienun, Maru, and ' Molu, as I gather from my hunters (whose information I believe to be correct) whom I sent there for a few weeks to collect, and gather information. The lowness also of the country in our immediate neigh- bourhood struck me much. I could see on Larat and on the mainland, no ground rising at the most over a hundred feet or so, for standing on the shore I could look right across the main island,. and see the greater part of the only height worthy of the name of mountain, within the range of vision, IN TIMOR-LAUT. 533 the Peak of Laibobar. This mountain symmetrically eae in form, rises out of the sea on an islet on the west coast, and is, Judging by the eye, somewhere about 2000 feet in height. I have little doubt that it will be found to be an extinct or dormant crater. I was shown by the natives a piece of pumice stone, used by them to polish their spearheads, which they say floats into their bay after northerly and westerly winds. Possibly some of it may be washed into the sea off the slopes of this mountain during the rainy season. Further experience showed me that the whole of the mainland of Yamdena, as far as my excursions extended, was also of coral, which formed precipitous cliffs nearly all round the islands, in some places as much as sixty to eighty feet in height ; but about Egeron Strait the coast is said to rise about: four hundred feet. I was early struck with the fact that everywhere the island was composed of coral, and that the vegetation grew on the scantiest possible soil. No rock of a sedimentary or granitoid character could I detect anywhere on the islet of Larat. I had at first thought that a stratified-like mass near our resi- dence had that character, but on closer examination it turns out to be entirely non-arenaceous. There are no mountains in the islands, and no fresh water streams. All our so-called fresh water was skimmed off the surface of holes made in the coral, and was brackish and un- palatable. On the mainland, however, I noticed at points slichtly above high-water mark fresher water than that found in Larat, flowing, it seemed, from springs. The whole of the northern portion of the islands, therefore, appears to have been recently elevated or is perhaps still being so, after a long submersion below the sea. The cliffs are ail of coral, and the shore at low tide is formed of the stumps of elevated branched corals, and in many places a flat floor of hard concrete like what I saw in the Keeling atoll. 23 334 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS ee Fe aN ee CHAPTER VI. SOJOURN IN TIMOR-LAUT—contenued. Natural history—Flora—Disaster to Herbarium—Fauna—Mimicking birds —Insects—Fever and failure of supplies—Anxious waiting for steatner — Arrival of SS. Amboina—Leave Timor-laut for Amboina. Or the natural history of Timor-laut, about which almost nothing was known before our visit, I have been able, to a considerable extent, to fill up the blanks in our knowledge. In some places the low shrubby under-forest is so dense as to be almost impenetrable on account of its spiny character, while in other parts the woods are open below. ‘The trees were, some of them, of considerable height, but of no great thick- ness, and but sparsely distributed. The largest I observed were Sterculias and fig-trees of the genus Uvostigma. The former are common and, in throwing out their flowers in advance of their foliage, their erowns form enormous bright scarlet bosses and are the most characteristic objects in the landscape. Doubtless they occur all along the coast, and very likely suggested the term “ brilliant” used by Captain Stanley in his description, already quoted, of the vegetation about Oliliet. This tree (Sterculia feetida) is probably a near relative of, if it is not identical with, the Fire-tree of Aus- tralia, which has attracted so much admiration there. Legumi- nous trees and shrubs were very abundantly represented; and with myrtles, pandans, palms, euphorbias, Malvacex, figs, and Apocynaceous trees, formed the bulk of the vegetation. Under these a green carpet of Commelyna (C. nudiflora) hides the rough and knobbly coral. Casuarinas and Cycads, which, both in Timor and Aru, form so striking a feature of the vegetation, and phyllode-bearing Acacias with the Euca- lyptus and Melaleuca, which characterise the Australian flora, were singularly conspicious by their absence in the districts IN TIMOR-LAUT. 335 over which my operations extended. Artocarpus incisa, not the true bread-fruit, which is a seedless variety, but the species more common in the Moluccas, was found in eonsiderable abun- dance. In its broad features, as far as we yet know, the plants of the Tenimber Island belong to a typically coral island flora. But among them are two most interesting species belonging to monotypic genera hitherto represented, as Sir Joseph Hooker has pointed out, only by single specimens—the one from the far separated islands of New Caledonia, and the other from West Australia. Growing in the coral crevices, often within the splash of the waves, I gathered a most lovely orchid, Den- drobium phaleenopsis, previously known only from Queensland in Australia, while open to the wash of the Arafura Sea out- side Cape Vatusianga, the trees were covered with Polypodia- ceous ferns and orchids of the species Dendrobium antennatum, while the whole shore was strewed with seeds of many kinds. The Herbarium on which our present knowledge cf the flora is based is very small; my own would have been much larger but for an unfortunate fire in the drying-house in which it was being prepared, which consumed the greater portion of my botanical collection—a heart-breaking episode which I give in my companion’s words :— “ September 9th. This forenoon, when quite alone, H and the hunters having gone to the opposite shore for the day, and Kobes to the well a mile off, while I was sitting in that miserable, restless condition which succeeds a fever attack, a longing seized me to look out of the door, for I had for many days been unable to leave my sleeping apartment. J ortunate impulse! Kobes had piled half a dozen great logs on the fire of the drying-house (an erection like our dwelling, and all the Tenimber tenements, of bamboo and atap thatch, now, at the close of the dry season, very imflammable) and left them to the whims of a strong breeze, which, at the moment I looked, had just fanned the fire into fierce flames. I sped into the village for help, but met the Postholder with his men running towards me, attracted by the rushing noise of the flames. With- out a moment’s delay some of them cut great palm branches to interpose between the burning house and the overhanging eaves of our dwelling, others tore apart the framework, scattered the bundles of plants, and beat the flames with green branches, 336 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS while the Tenimber natives poured on water which they carried in gourds and bamboos from the sea close by. With what breathless anxiety I watched the effect of each gust of wind, for the thatch of our house—in which were stored several tins of petroleum and of spirits of wine, and a quantity of gun- powder—was already scorched. Had it caught, nothing could have saved the whole village, nor us from the vengeance of the people. At last the flames were got under, and I had time to realise that the few charred and sodden bundles before me was all that remained of more than 500 of the first gathered specimens of the flora of Tenimber collected at such risk and pains. I could not bear to stand on the shore, as usual, to welcome the home-coming boat, but long ere it touched, the ruined drying-house had told them the disheartening news of the disaster that had happened.” If we except birds, animal life I found to be but poorly represented. Besides a Cuscus, a genus of Marsupials common to the Moluccas and new Guinea, and doubtfully a wild pig, T saw no indigenous mammalian animals—with one reserva- tion. On the mainland we found large herds of buffaloes living in a wild state, being indigenous as far as native tradition could enlighten us, for they believe that they came up out of the earth. When, and by what means they arrived is unknown; but there can be little doubt that they have been brought by the accident of shipwreck, or by design. They must feed on the Commelyna, and on the leaves of low shrubs, for there is no grass to be found ; and they must often, I feel sure, be pressed for water to drink in the dry season. No kangaroos were seen or heard of in any of the islands, but a small species of mouse-like mammal, of which I was unable to catch a specimen, may be a Perameles or jumping- mouse. Of Rodents the common rat was—too abundant. No species ot Securidx were observed. Of Chetroptera there were several small species, besides a common Pteropus or “ Flying Fox.” There are no deer. One species of Sirenian, probably the Halicore australis, frequents the shore, and is hunted by the natives for its ivories from which they make earrings. One frog was collected, while snakes and lizards were found in considerable numbers, one of each being a species new to science. While, out of sixty species of birds, I brought no es ess. eee MACHIK’S GROUND-THRUSH (Geocichla machikt, FORBES). IN TIMOR-LAUT oot fewer than twenty forms, and of the butterflies and insects nearly one-half, that were undescribed before. One of the objects of my visit was to determine to what zoo-geographical province Timor-laut belonged. Lying as it does at no great distance from Aru and New Guinea on the east, from Australia to the southward, and from Timor to the west, it was an interesting question which of them had behaved most bountifully by it. It is surrounded by a very deep sea, deeper, so the captain of one of the Dutch men-of-war surveying in that region just before my return to Europe informed me, than is represented in most of the charts. Looking to the birds peculiar to the group, all belong to Papuan genera (and nearly allied to known Papuan species) with the exception of a few species, which have their nearest representatives in Timor or in Australia. The insects, on the other hand, as collected by me, show a great preponderance of Timor over Aru or new Guinea forms, with a slight Australian tinge. ‘The presence of snakes and frogs is also of great interest—a new species of the former (Stmotes forbest of Boulenger) being remarkable as the only one of the genus known to exist east of Java—when we consider its: deep surrounding sea and all the indications that the Tenimber group, which is entirely of coral formation, has been elevated, after a long subsidence above the surface of the sea. The most interesting discoveries among the birds were a species of ground-thrush (Geocichla machiki), figured on the opposite page ; and the finding in Timor-laut of a new species of Honey-eater (Philemon timorlaoensis), (the fizst bird to attract our attention after landing), mimicked by a new species of Oriole (Oriolus decipiens). For some time I was quite puzzled by the difference of behaviour of certain individuals in flocks of these birds on the trees. Only after the closest comparison of the dead birds in my hand was the enigma solved by my perceiving that the birds were distinct species, of widely removed families, and I learned later that I had obtained new examples of that most curious case of mimicry first detected (among birds) by Mr. Wallace, where an Oriole con- stantly derives protection from its foes by acquiring the dress of a bird always of the same powerful and gregarious Honey- eaters. In the Island of Buru an Oriole accompanies and 338 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS copies a Philemon; in Ceram and in Timor also, and now in Timor-laut yet another—the model and the copy—both of them distinct in each of the islands. When my collection was laid out for description by Dr. Sclater, the Oriole and the Honey-eater’s dress were so strikingly similar, that the sharp eye of that distinguished Ornithologist was deceived, and the two birds were described by him as the same specics. Besides these, another lovely new species of the same family (see Frontispiece) of the Honey-eaters, belonging to the genus Myzomela, which has been named after the devoted companion of my travels (Myzomela annabellz) was obtained ; but though it flitted about at the flowers of the cocoanut palms, and of an Apocynaceous shrub just at our door, I could not sueceed in shooting a single individual, till on the mainland I at last secured the one specimen that graced my collection. On the 20th of September the steamer was due to return ; but for a week we had been anxiously counting the days, for we had been obliged, in order to eke out our supplies, to fall back on roasted heads of Indian corn, which sorely tried our teeth. We could purchase fowls on rare: occasions only, as our barter articles suiting the tastes of the natives were all gone-— it is a characteristic of the race, as I have said, to give away nothing, and to part with their possessions only for what they want at the moment, no matter if something of many times the value be offered them. Our stock of febrifuges, so often in demand, and of tea and coffee, was exhausted, and above all we were sadly reduced by the pernicious fever which was diffi- cult to combat without luxuries we could not command. Boats from Vordate brought in the news that the threatened Kaleobar attack was really about to be made, tidings which to our villagers seemed confirmed by the simultaneous recogni- tion of the great comet of 1882 in our northern sky. Extra guards were placed, who danced, as is their custom on such like occasions, round the village god night and day witha hideous howling chant accompanied by beating of drums which was equally incessant, and to our fever-strained nerves execrable and unbearable during the day, but perfectly maddening in the night. How we longed and looked for the ~ steamer ! On the 28th, when our larder was absolutely empty, the ae? he a IN TIMOR-LAUT. . 339 sharp eyes of the natives descried at break of day a thin line of smoke on the horizon, and before eight o’clock the Amboina had steamed slowly in, and, with a rattle pleasant to our ears, dropped her anchor a few yards from our door. A couple of hours later, with our precious collections safely on board, we ourselves stood watching from the deck the crowd of struggling boats heaving in the troubled water of our screw putting back to the shore, and on our swarthy and most interesting friends gazing after us from the strand, till our little home—the centre round which, for the rest of our lives, will cluster the reminiscences of most strange and utterly uncommunicable thoughts and sensations—sank down behind our horizon, happy that some of the eager hopes with which we had landed amongst them a few months before had been gratified, yet feeling how much there was left undone of what we had wished to accomplish; and as the verdure-clad shores faded from our view the recollection of our dangers and anxieties, which had been very real, vanished like an evil dream, while the intense pleasure—whose solidity only a naturalist can really appreciate —that we had derived from our wanderings amid a strange people, and a perfectly new fauna and flora, was henceforth alone to fill the retrospect of our sojourn among the Tenimber Islands. Turning to our letters and newspapers we realised how isolated had been our situation, when we found that England had begun and fought out the Egyptian war, and that we were out in our reckoning both of the day of the week and of the day of the month. Reversing the route we had taken in June, we arrived on the 7th of October in Amboina, where we received a most cordial weleome from Dr. and Madame Machik, now installed in a commodious and pleasantly situated house looking out on the Bay, and in which there was at my disposal delightful accommodation for rearranging and preparing my collections for despatch to Europe. I should be very unmindful if I did not record here the more than friendly attention and care bestowed on us by both our hosts, during the many days of Tenimber feyer—more violently exhibited in Amboina than in Larat—that we had to endure under their roof. 340 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Se eee i Ne ne em en EES nar APPENDIX. ‘TO PART IV. _ Se I. On the CRANIAL CHarnacters of the Natives of Timor-LAuT. By J. G. Garson, M.D., F.Z.S.; Memb. Anthrop. Inst.; Anat. Assist. Royal College of Surgeons; Lecturer on Comparative Anatomy, Charing Cross Hospital. In the following communication I intend to direct attention to the characters presented by a series of skulls from Timor-laut, a group of small islands situated between New Guinea and Australia, collected and brought home by Mr. H. O. Forbes. Before doing so, it will be well to recapitulate briefly the chief characters of the inbabitants of the island observed by Mr. Forbes, and described by him in-a paper read last ‘session before this institute, and published in the Journal (vol. xiii, Woe. 85/e0) Seg-). ES * n % * The osteological remains now to be described were obtained from the island of Larat, and consist of a series of eleven skulls and crania. Of these, nine are adult, one that of a young man of about twenty years of age, and one that of a child. Four of the skulls appear to be those of males, and six those of women. The skull of the child is not sufficiently developed to indicate its sex. The male skulls are all of a round form—broad in proportion to the antero-posterior length, and resemble one another in general appearance. Of the females, five correspond in form to the male skulls, in being short and broad, but the sixth differs markedly from the others, in being narrow antero-posteriorly in proportion to its breadth. The form of the child’s cranium resembles closely that of this last skull. The cranium of the child ha’ been excluded from the various measurements and averages given in the subjoined table, now to be discussed, but that of the young man is included, as I was unwilling to diminish the series by rejecting it, especially as it seems to have attained its full development, except in a few respects which will be noted; though I am aware that it is contrary to custom to include any skull in which the basilar suture is not united. The male and female round skulls are separated from one another, and the latter are grouped apart from the long narrow female skull, many of the characters of which are entirely different from those of the other females. Capacity—The averave cranial capacity of the four male skulls measured with shot according to Broca’s method, is 1507 ce., or 47 ce. * As this has been fully done in the foregoing pages, it is unnecessary to recapitulate them here; consequently, this paragraph is omitted from this reprint of Dr, Garson’s valuable paper.—H. O. F. IN TIMOR-LAUT. 341 more than that of male European skulls, the average capacity of 347 of which Topinard found to be 1560 cc. That of the round-headed females is 1,311 cc., or 64 ce. less than European female skulls, 232 of which, measured by Topinard, averaged 1,375 ce. While the capacity, therefore, of the male skulls from Timor-laut is, on an average, larger than those of European, that of the females is less than in Europeans of the same sex. The difference in capacity between males and females of 'Timor-laut is 296 ec.; that between Europeans is 185 cc. The individual range of capacity is considerable, one of the male skulls (No. 10) being no less than 220 cc. smaller than any of the others.. The largest capacity, that of No. 4, is 1,780 cc., and the smallest 1,395 ec., that of No. 10. In the females the range is from 1,405 to 1,240 cc. The difference, then, between the largest and smallest male skulls is 885 cc., and 155 ec. between those of females. The long-headed female has a capacity of 1,400 ce. Cephalic Indexw.—tin the round skulls the relative proportion of the breadth to the length varies little in the two sexes; the cephalic index of the males averaging 8871 and of the females 86:0. Reference to the table will show that the lower index of the females is chiefly caused by the almost undeformed cranium, No. 2, which has an index of only 78°9. All these skulls belong to Broca’s class of true brachycephalic (skulls in which the cephalic index is over 83°33) except No. 2, which is sub- brachycephalic (between 80°01 and 88°33), on account of its width being less than, while the length is the same as that of the others. The long narrow female skull has an index of 71°1, and belongs, therefore, to Broca’s true dolichocephalic group. Height Index.—This averages about 2: higherin the male brachycephalic skulls than in the corresponding females, being 80°6 in the former, and 82:4 in the latter. The cephalic index of the males we found was higher by the same amount than that of the females. In the dolichocephalic female the right index is much lower than in the brachycephalic skulls of the same sex, a condition which the late Professor Rolleston found usually toobtain. The height of the skulls is in all instances less than the breadth, except in the female No. 2. The indices of height and breadth above given cannot be taken as strictly accurate, owing to the artificial flattening of the posterior or postero- lateral portion of most of the crania, but are as nearly accuiate as cir- cumstances will admit, and general deductions may probably be relied upon. The height in proportion to the breadth (the latter being taken as 100) is in the males as 91-2, and in the females as 95°6 to 100. Circumference.—The hcrizontal circumference of the brachycephalic skulls averages in the males 507 mm., that of the females 475 mm., while the transverse vertical circumference of the former is 456 mm., and of the latter 424-6 mm. The total longitudinal circumference averages in the males 501-2 mm., and in the females 473 mm. In each of the three circumference measurements, therefore, the female skulls are on an average about 31 mm. smaller than the males. The dolichocephalic female shows considerable differences in the various circumferences from the previous skulls of the samesex. Its horizontal and total longitudinal circumferences are each 25 mm. greater than the average of these measurements in the brachycepbalic s«ulls, while its transverse vertical circumference is 17°6 mm. less. The increased size of the two first circumferences in this skull is due to the greater antero-postericr length of the frontal and especially the parietal bones; the other segments being almost the same in both varieties of skulls. This accords with the fact pointed out by M. Gratiolet, that in women the elongation of the cranium 342 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS deperds essentially on the length of the temporal region, and is the permanent retention of a childlike character dolichocephally ; being due, he has shown, to a relative development of bones which varies with age. It is essentially occipital in the infant, temporal in the child, and frontal in the adult man. : x Sn The form of the foramen magnum varies considerably, being in some elongated antero-posteriorly, in others almost circular. Gnathic Index.—On an average the male skulls are mesognathous (having an index between 98 and 108); the brachycephalic females belong to the same group. Considerable variety is exhibited individually by the male skulls, one being prognathous and another orthognathous ; the same variability is not exhibited by the females, all of them being mesognathous. The dolichocephalic female is prognathous. Malar Height.—The development of the malar bones is usually some- what greater in the brachycephalic skulls than in Europeans, but consi- derable individual variety is observable which confirms the observations of Mr. Forbes on living natives. The malars are small in the dolichocephalic female. The depression on the malar process of the maxilla or maxillo- malar notch, observed by Professor Flower to be present in the Fijians, may here be seen in the skulls where the malars are most strongly developed. The Orbits—The form of the orbits varies considerably, some being wider in proportion to the height than otners; but the averages show both sexes to be mesoseme (index from 85 to 89). The Nasal Index.—The form of the nasal aperture presents a certain degree of variation, the index varying from 48:1 to 55°8 in the brachy- cephalic males, and in the females of that class’ from 49 to 60°65, the averages of the former being 52 and of the latter 553. The average index of the males places them at the platyrhine end of the mesorhine group (between 48 and 53), while the females are just within the platyrhine class (above 58). Two males and three females are mesorhine, and two males and two females are platyrhine. The dolichocephalc skull is mesorhine. The Facial angle formed by the meeting of the alveolar point of the ophryo-alveolar face-line and the auriculo-alveolar base line averages 70° in the males, and nearly 68° in the females. As differences of opinion may exist as to the value of the angle taken in this way I have added the nasi-alveolar length as well as the basi-nasal and basi-alveolar measure- ments. With these three measurements the relation of the alveolar point to the cranio-facial axis of Huxley, or basi-nasal line upon which the angle of gnathism depends, can easily be calculated, and the facial angle thus formed aptly compared with the gnathicindex. A further reason for the nasi-alveolar length finding a place in the table is that some anato- mists, without good reason, consider it to be preferable to the ophryo- alveolar length as the measurement of facial height, owing to its being more definite than the latter. Regional characters of the cranial portion.—-The glabella is feebly developed in both sexes, being represented by Nos. 0-1 of Broca’s des- eriptive outlines, except in one of the females in whom it equals No. 2. The superciliary ridges are likewise feebly marked, the rebeing usually only a slight boss projecting obliquely upwards and outwards from the glabella, but not extending any distance over the orbits. The forehead recedes slightly, but the degree of recession varies somewhat, being more marked in two brachycephalic females than in any of the others; while in the dolichocephalic females itis the most perpendicular. Tubera are well marked on the parietal bones of the young male skull, and are associated with a narrow base, as is scen by the bi-auricular breadth ae +> | ~ IN TIMOR-LAUT. 343 being less than that of any of the other males. These conditions are usually concomitant, as was shown by Professor Wiesbach, and are indications of a skull not having attained its full development, as in this case, or of the permanent retention of a child-like character when occurr- ing in the fully adult skull, as is not uncommon in women. Epiteric bones are present in three of the female crania, Nos. 1, 7.and 9. In the male skull No. 10 the squamosals articulate with the frontal, the ale sphenoid not intervening between them, as is usually the case. The zygomatic arches can be seen in most instances projecting beyond the outline of the cranium in the fronto-parietal region—that is to say, the skulls are usually pheenozygous, though more so in some cases than in others. In order to estimate the amount of zygomatic projection, or the relation of the maximum cranio-facial breadth to the fronto-parietal breadth at the stephanion, Topinard has suggested the formation of an index from the bi-zygomatic and bi-stephanic breadths, in place of the angle of Quatrefages, which can only be measured by means of a compli- cated goniometer. Taking the former breadth as 100, I find that the bi- zygostephanic index of the brachycephalic male skulls averages 87°6, and of the female 87:4, and of the dolichocephalic female 94-2. In order to compare these averages with those of other races, I have worked this out in the series of Andamanese skulls and of Fijians pub- lished by Professor Flower in the volumes of the ‘Journal of the Anthropological Institute” for 1879 and 1880, and the following are the results obtained : — Bi-zygostephanic Index. Andamanese ., 12 males, 88:3; 12 females, 91:5 Timor-laut so) ERAS oe Sa = 87:4. Fijian .. oe Gn ee OE bao - 85°5 Before its value can be rightly estimated it will require to be worked out in a much more extended series. It may. be stated, however, that erania with a bi-zygostephanic index of under 90 are phenozygus. The development of the inion is usually represented by Broca’s descriptive figures 1 or 2. Though not very prominent the inion and the inner or mesial extremities of the superior curved lines are well developed and rugged, a condition to which, Professor Thane kindly reminded me, Professor Ecker has attributed considerable importance as being indicative of a simian character, these ridges being the representative in man of the crests so well marked in the skull of the orang-outan and other anthropomorphous apes. The sutures are, as a rule, simple, varying in the series from 1 to 3 of Broca’s numbers, both in regard to complexity and degree of oblite- ration. In the dolichocephalic female the frontal suture is metopic (see p. 345), but in none of the other skulls does this condition obtain. The wormian bones are small in most instances. All the brachycephalic skulls of both sexes exhibit more or less flattening in the occipital or parieto-occipital region, such as would be produced by laying an infant, without any soft material under the head, in a cradle, like that exhibited here by Mr. Forbes from Timor-laut. The dolichocephalic female and child’s skulls show no sign of flattening. The basilar suture is entirely obliterated in all instances except in the youth; no abnormality is to be observed in any case in the under surface of the tranium. Regional characters of fazial portion.—In most instances the face has a flat appearance. The axes of the orbits are in some instances more horizontal than in others. The inter-orbital portion, though not showing great variation in actual width, differs in form on account of the projec- tion of the nasal bones being greater, and the ascending process of the 344 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS maxillaries being flatter, in some instances than in others. It occurred to me that this variation might be expressed by measuring the angle for- med by the nasal bones and ascending processes of the maxillaries at the level immediately below that of the dacryon. This measurement, which I propose to call the nasi-maxillary angle, 1s different in its object from that of M. de Mérejkowsky, which ascertains only the projection of the nasal bones or maxillary processes. The outline of nose is represented by Broca’s descriptive numbers land 3. The first of these indicates a nose with a low bridge turned up- wards at the tip; the latter a straight nose with a higher bridge than the other. We have therefore identified on the skulls the two forms of nose observed by Mr. Forbes in the living subject. As a rule the straight nose is clevated at the root, and the naso-maxillary angle is higher than in the hooked nose, which is flat at the root. The xasi-malar angle is high in NORM FRONTALIS ET LATERALIS OF THE MALE BRACHYCEPHALIC SKULL, NO. 4, (WITH THE PERMISSION OF THE COUNCIL OF THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITUTE.) all instanees. The lower margin of the nasal aperture is usually well de- fined, but slopes slightly in some instances into the alveolar portions of the maxille. The nasal spine is feebly developed, being represented by Nos. 1 and 2 of Broca. The alveolar portion of the maxillze has become so atrophied after loss of the teeth in three skulls (one male and two females) as to be reduced to almost a narrow rim of bone; in these the alveolar height has not been measured. A correspondingly atrophied condition likewise obtains in the alveolar border of the respective mandi- bles. In the others in which the teeth were complete at the time of death this portion of the face is short; the measurements, however, indicate a greater estimate of the vertical distance between the floor of the nose and the alveolar plane, as in most instances there is a considerable degree of alveolar prognathism. The maxille are broad in comparison to their length, especially in the case of the male No. 10, where the maxillary or IN TIMOR-LAUT. 345 palatal index is no less than 140°7. The palate is therefore markedly of the parabolic form. In this skull it is also very high. The maxillz are narrowest in the dolichocephalic female. In all cases the posterior edge of the vomer slopes considerably forwards as well as downwards. The characters of the mandible can be only imperfectly studied, it being lost in some instances and much atrophied in others. The chief character seems to be the absence of prominence of the chin: the sym- phesial angle is consequently high, approaching a right angle. Dentition is normal in all the skulls except the male No. 4, in which the last upper molars, or wisdom teeth, are absent from non-development. The skull is known, however, to Mr. Forbes to have belonged to a man be- yond middleage. The last molars have not been fully acquired in the skull of the youth No. 11. Im size the teeth are large but not abnormally so, and are stained black in two of the male skulls, Nos. 4 and 10, and in the female skulls Nos. 7 and 1. In the male No. 10, the upper incisors and (ys an, Hq its NORMZ& FRONTALIS ET LATERALIS OF THE FEMALE DOLICHOCEPHALIC SKULL, NO 1, (WITH THE PERMISSION OF THE COUNCIL OF THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITUTE.) canines have been filed away on the anterior surface, and stained black, making them more spade-like. This custom of deforming the teeth, and staining them, is practised very commonly in Java and Birma, and else- where. The incisors and canines being absent in the other male skulls, it is impossible to say whether these teeth were deformed in them also, In the females there is a trace of a similar deformation in No. 2, but the filed teeth are not stained artificially. Grinding down the anterior upper and lower teeth horizontally, and staining them, seems to have been practised in Nos. 1 and 9. In the other skulls the teeth have been lost, Relation of the inhabitants of Timor-laut to those of adjacent countries.— That the skulls just described are not those of a pure race is very evident. ‘Two very distinct types can be made out, namely, the brachycephalic and the dolichocephalic, the former greatly predominating in number. Both from the information Mr. Forbes has given us as to their appearance, and from the skulls themselves, there is no difficulty in recognising a strong 346 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Malay element in the population. The male skull, No. 4, and the female, No. 6, are typically Malayan in their characters, especially in possessing large open rounded orbits and smooth forehead, the superciliary ridges and glabella being almost entirely absent. The other brachycephalic skulls, though not presenting such a striking affinity, agree more or less with the type, but give evidence of mixed characters. ‘Lhe dolicho- cephalic skull is, on the other hand, markedly of the Papuan type, and corresponds so closely as to be undistinguishable from two crania obtained twenty miles inland from Port Moresby, New Guinea, in the College of Surgeons’ Museum, also from another from the Solomon Islands. Along with this form of shell Mr. Forbes informs me is associated frizzly hair and dark skin. ; The examination of the cranial characters of the inhabitants of Timor- laut as illustrated by the skulls before us shows that the peopling of this island forms no exception to what is usually found in the various groups of islands in the Polynesian Archipelago. From its close proximity to New Guinea, perhaps more of the Papuan element might have been expected. The relative proportions of the two races in any particular place seem to vary considerably, however, and till more is known of the history of this part of the world, the distribution of its inhabitants will not be understood. Valuable contributions to our knowledge of this vexed question have been made by the writings of M. Quatrefages, Professors Flowér and Keane, Mr. Staniland Wake, and others. Series of skulls and skeletons like the present from different districts, with accounts of the inhabitants, are always valuable additions, and assist materially to unravel the ethnology of this interesting part of the globe. — 34 LACT, IN TIMOR “A]{OVXa UIYR] 9q JOU p[Nod yUaMMaINsvaUT ON} IVY} HurApdart ‘wn9119 suUBATT YUaUTAINSBAUT B 9.10JAq paovpl o years vy *Aytangevurear 0} SUIMO ‘suOIsUaUIIp [[NF Itey) pouleyj}e you ATUepIad savy YIM ‘iT ‘ON ‘[~Oys apeur Bunod oy} ut syusueinsvent osoy} ysurede paovid st (,) YSlejsv UY » Lob | 4-69 | I-TL ZI 66 cll C6 cI Sar OST | OOFT G. |" TON 0 | 9-FZF | F-28 98 | Gal F-901 8-ZIL |9 06 | %-eel | Z-6st | 8-19T | IIeT S| jo odvsoay SE a EA Seg oe Ee | nen ERS sa oe er | josie ——— SIF | €-98 | I-68 GIL 601 SIT 88 esl eer | oct | oser Cie SG 8th | 1-68 | 1-88 Col 801 SIL ZG sel FI O9L | OFT pepe alse seh | 9-8 | L-L8 Sel sor FIL 06 LET | #1 ZOL | SOFT 5 SEA ue, CGF | 3-8L | 1-98 6II Lor FIT C6 621 SFI col | Seer real Sens 61 | 1-08 | 6-82 0aI 001 801 88 11 ISI 991 | 0st 6 Ie 3 ON ¢.99) | 9-08 | 1-88 Lr LOL FZL | 3-001 | G-88T | ¢-IST ELE | 209T | ||| Jo eaureky OFF | och | +48 LIT sol GIT 66 cel 1ST 6LI | Zor Pa eee fay | 1S Ssh | F-6L | 1-68 621 FOL 0zI 96 [ST LI col | ¢ésl Go te OLe clp | §-68 | 8-88 FEI cor LOI Zor CFI IST OLE =|, ST91 arr Adc 8Lbe | 3-28 | &-06 81 911 oat | F0T a | LSI PLE | O8LT ¢ oR P ON Ss a —— i ee sigtuen | aie | omer, wma sum pent | Tec | vaoar | apm | war aye | x ms *« SLINAWAYNSVAW TVINVYO ERINGS ALIST’S WAND UR A NAT OST | $& TOT | OFT 0&4 008 06% C9Z GCG CHG 00¢ 3 T ‘ON | ¥-& ChE | G-ZOL [serer 8-121 | 8-031 | Gio | F-1ZE LOG | GGG G-GFG F-C3S Gq * OSBIDAY es S| ES SS —— eee Rewer) | eoeereaets ee ee cee 8 eS cg OFS Be ee ZL | Cs 91g G63 CS L¥G C1Z GOF oe Ge 68 GEE L6 as OTT GIL | LG O1g 866 ZIG CS E&Z SLF ss iE ets 8s 68 COL GCL 121 CGs GZS 008 0&2 L¥G 82S GLY ; Oye 82 9¢g LOT. O&T 611 C96 968 108 8GZ 19% CGS 98h ne eons (ae Sts 00T CoL SL CHG 0s &6G 192 LG 9&6 GLP : G ‘ON | Q L-Gg GLE MAIL. see a raie = WP toa 2e8 | large tke E68 613 69% 8- 1% L0¢ “ OSRIOAW F§ GLE Ill LBL F&I 09% 08 LIg OLZ ILZ G&G F0G eo 15 aes cg Cts 80T S21 FIL LSS 0G 866 CZ 69Z 0&% &6F Zs Cre 8s ALE OLL CSI OST OFZ oss G&S C8z 09% 0GZ OTS a Geass 92 ose GIL Sale: ESI CHG ecg cts 982 99% Cc% 126 33 Tt ‘ON “yyRue7] TOL | “Weydioo9 | [wyanteg | “peyuoTy | “TeUd 90 | “[ojoWeT | -o;geudorg) “[eyU0I7 Se ee Stora UINUB LY UdWL10,J *SO.LY UVIPOFL “SOLY OSIOASUBA YS, “panigwoo—STNAWHUNSVAN IVINVYO ‘AOUALIJUANDALD ]CJWOZTIOFL 349 IN TIMOR-LAUT. 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Oe EZ #9 Zc 6F 54 a a “ GF GZ §-SZL 89 g¢ 6-2 9% ee a a eulie ae 8-LIT 99 9¢ 09 13 rat eg verte ZG 0G9G EBL #9 ¢ G.g¢ 8% L-OFT 91 #S g.c¢ 6 ai ne ‘“ Guage 1G coat 19 1g 1-8 9% ‘xepur | “TOPE | “U9Su0T | “xopuy | “TOPIAL “LI[LLXVAT OSON OF “TAPIAL 9-L¥ L-¥8 | 9-¢& 6P 9-88 && 1g | 9-48 1g 0S L-68 cs SP 8-61 && cP 8-98 Ig 0S 1-8 | cE Fx ¢-68 tS 6G 18g 1& 1g 08 96 FG 06 96 “QU Soy] *xopuy “QU Soy “WUO ‘panv7Voo—-STNAWACOSVAW ITWIOVAL “UIPEM. 1831q.10 -o] NOLIN ee 66 “USI IvLOIATV + I ON oP OSBIOAY “ec ee 66 bs 6 CO COs =e ‘ON 2 On B1lOAV 50 p ‘ON dol IN TIMOR-LAUT. | oF COL oO IT ofIL ol6 oI IT of6 o61L | > olFT | 09 FFI TST OFT GFL OFT 8s1 G6: IPL Ar I ON ** @SBIDAY 0 0 & © ** oS vVIIAW 0& SF x 6Lx EC FGx 86 6x G&S 69 68 €9 - 86 KG GOL 0€ 8G L 6G a i C6 OF 19 16 69 16 Lg SOL | 10119380 4ysieH | . onal -010jUV sonddes! “18H | “IUBLOHT | Teisomed | “UPEAL “oluon | Plouorop | 2e1OW “org *snUeyy “oT QU puryL “TIPLAL ovluoa-ig |1B[Apuoo-1g oruvydo3s ¢-16 a L-G8 = 6-68 086 6-46 o8I *xopul -084Z-1G, ‘panu27qu0o—S LNAWAYOASVAN TVIOVA “IBpISU oLIT o9 IT of01 006 “AIBUTIXB]L -IStN o8&1 of SL of FL oLFI *IB[RI-1SBN .? Il sé 2 (ati “ oe @ “ce oan y ‘ON ATURALIST’S WANDERINGS ry 4 AN 3 g 0 06 | oLIT wi eon ee ee oe oe ee oe OS BION V il g I eee ee oe oe 6 ce I I V6, ee oe ee ee L (74 G g 0 eo ee ee ee 9 66 I I I ee | c ae | ee ee g “ec = é 3 ‘ | cae ! : : I of8 | ait OSVIOAW G g I ol8 of@L oo) Tue g S il o$8 oOIT Ole G I T ONG ECS I $ I 088 of IT °° F ‘ON *iesoyduatg *"IeLUqIpPUey] *soulog “yq007 “UoOlUy “ouidg [vse *‘souog [USBNT *BT[EqUlD UBIUTIO AL ae jo jo jo jo Sy jo 189 \\ ; jo azIg quomdojaaaq, qusuIdo[aAa(T aAInpD quetidopaAeq -oapuBy Jo e1suy ee ‘piHH09-STNAWAYISVAN TVIOVA SUMGWON GALLI COsad IN TIMOR-LAUT. 353 Notes ON THE TABLE OF MEASUREMENTS. All the measurements given in the preceding table correspond to those recommended by Broca in the “ Instructions Craniologiques” eo 1875), except the following, some of which are not given in that work :— The transverse arcs.—These are measured with the tapa from the point on the ridge at the posterior root of the zygoma immediately above the middle of the external auditory meatus, where the ridge is crossed by the auriculo-bregmatic line (the courbe sus-auriculare of Broca) over the respective parts of the cranium, to the corresponding point on the opposite temporal bone. Naso-alveolar length.—From the nasion to the alveolar point. Palatine region—The maxillary length is measured from the alveolar point to the middle of a line drawn across the hinder borders of the maxillary tuberosities. This is easily done by stretching a piece of fine wire across the back of the mouth, the wire resting on each side in the eroove between the pterygoid and the tuberosity. The width is taken between the outer borders of the alveolar arch immediately above the middle of the second molar tooth. Facial angle-—The angle formed by the meeting of the auriculo-alveo- lar base line with the ophryo-alveolar face line at the alveolar point measured with Broca’s median goniometer. Nasi-malar angle—The angle formed by the nasal bones and the ex- ternal margins of the orbits at a poit a little below the fronto-malar articulation. Nasi-maxillary angle—Explained in the text, page 344. Basilar angle—This is the angle N B Y of the “ Instructions,” p. 92, or the naso-basio-opisthial angle. Bi-zygostephanic Index.—Defined in the text, page 343. Conoroid height—F rom the gonion to the top of the coronoid process. Gonio-symphesial height measured with the calipers. The size of the glabella, nasal bones, and spine, inion, wormian bones, and wear of teeth, are indicated by Broca’s descriptive numbers given in the “ Instructions.” Explanation of Plate (pp. 344, 345). All the figures represent the skulls with the alveolo-condylar plane horizontal. The photozincographs were reduced from drawings by Mr. J. G. Goodchild, the outlines of the skulls from which they are taken haying been previously geometrically projected by means of Broca’s stereograph by myself. ; This paper is reproduced from the ‘Journal of the Anthropological Institute’ for May, 1884. (H.O.F.) 3o4 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS IIL—LIST OF PLANTS FROM TIMOR-LAUT. Compiled from the Author's Herbarium, as determined at the Royal Gardens, Kew, along with a small Collection made by Native Collectors employed by Resident Riedel. Clematis sp. Anamirta Cocculus, W. & A. Ochzccarpus ovalifolius, T. And. ? Sida humilis W. var. repens. rhombifolia, L. Abutilon indicum, Don. graveolens, W. & A. Hibiscus surattensis, L. tetraphyllus, Roxb. Gossypium barbadense, L. Thespesia populnea, Corr. Sterculia foetida, L. Melochia odorata, Forst. yelutina, Bedd. brata. pubescens, Bl. Corchorus trilocularis, L. Murraya exotica, L. var. Glycoswis pentaphyla, Corr. sapindoides, Lindl. Tyistellateia australasica, A. R. Owenia (may be O. cerasifera, F. M.). Calophyllum Inophyllum, L. Dodonzea viscosa, L. Vitis coriacea, Miq. Strombosia sp. Erioglossum edule, Bl. Flemingia strobilifera, R. Br. Desmodium umbellatum, DC. Pongamia glabra, Vent. Phaseolus spp. Mucuna (Stizolobium) sp. Canavalia obtusifolia, DC. Vigzaa lutea, A. Gr. Dolichos Lablab, L. Cajanus indicus, Spr. Indigofera unifoliata. Dichrostachys nutans ? Cynometra ramiflora, L. bijuga, Sp. Cassia javanica, L. alata, L. Cxesalpinia pulcherrima, Sw. Nuga, Ait. Bauhinia Blancoi, Benth. Pemphis acidula, Forst. Bruguiera caryophylloides, Bl. Lumnitzera coccinea, W. & A. Peltophorum ferrugineum, Btb Eugenia javanica, Lam. aff. javanicee. Luffa cylindrica, Roem. Momordica Charantia, L. var. gla- Zelimeria aff. mucronate. Delarbrea sp. Sesuvium Portulacastrum, L. Carapa moluccensis, L. Portulaca oleracea, L. Bryophyllum calycinum, Salisb. Randia spp. © : Ixora sp. aff. I. timorensis, Dene. Psychotria sp. Morinda citrifolia, L. Carium Roxburghianum, Benth. Vernonia cinerea, Less. Blumea membranacea, DC. Wedelia biflora, DC. Bidens bipinnata, L. Diospyros maritima, BI. Maesa sp. Jasminum lancifolium, Dene. Dischidia sp. Marsdenia sp. Gymnema vel Sarcolobus sp. Mitreola oldenlandioides, Wall. Alstonia spectabilis, Br. Tabernzemontana parviflora, Poir. orientalis, R. Br. Cordia snbeordata, Lam. Tpomeea Turpethum, L. cymosa, R. & Schult. Hewittia bicolor, W. & A. Convoivulus parviflorus, Vahl. Tournefortia sarmentosa, Lam. Solanum verbascifolium, L. Lycopersicum esculentum, Mill. Physalis minima, L. Datura alba, Nees. Capsicum frutescens, L. Buchnera angusta. Leucas decemdentata, Sin, Coleus scutellarioides, Benth. Ocimum canun, L. Hyptis spicigera, Lam. Premna obtusifolia, R. Br. Vitex trifolia, Ih. aff. V. Negundo, L. Clerodendron longiflorum, Dene. vel sp. aff. Barleria Prionotis, L. Dilivaria ilicifolia, Jaeq. Asystasia (an) chelonoides, Nees. Hypoéstes floribunda, R. Br. var. Eranthemum sp. (? variabile.) Deeringia celosioides, R. Br. IN TIMOR-LAUT. Airua scandens, Wall., vel velutina, Mig. sanguinolenta, Bl. Amarantus caudatus, L. Salsola Tragus, L. Myristica insipida, R. Br. Aristolochia sp. Piper sp. aff. P. canino, Dietr. Loranthus (Dendrophthoe) sp. aff. L. rigido, Wall. Manihot utilissima, Polil. Acalypha indica, L. Phylianthus diversifolius, Mill. Arg, vel sp. aff. Exeecaria Agallocha, Miill. Arg. Mallotus albus, Mill. Arg. repandus, Mull. Arg. Trewia sp. Sponia timorensis, Dene. Fatua pilosa, Gaud. lanceolata, Dene. Pipturus velutinus, Wed 1. Fleurya interrupta, Gaud. 309 Pouzolzia pentandra, Benn. Urostigma sp. Ficus sp. aff. acanthophylle, Miq. Balanophora sp. Dendrobium antennatum, Lindl. Phalznopsis, Fitze. Dioscorea spp. Cordyline terminalis, Kth. Commelina nudiflora, L. Cocos nucifera, L. Borassus flabelliformis, L Metroxylon leve, Mart. Pandanus sp. Aroidez spp. Cyperus pennatus, Lam. Setaria italica, Beauy. Sorghum vulgare, Pers. Polypodium irioides, Lam. Pteris tripartita, Lam. Asplenium gaicatum, Lam. Vittaria elongata, Sw. Lycopodium carinatum, Des. Phlegmaria, L. IlI.—LIST OF THE BIRDS OF TIMOR-LAUT.* In order to give as correct a list as possible of the Avifauna of the Tenimber Islands, I have reproduced the original descriptions of my collections given by Dr. Sclater, in the ‘ Proceedings’ of the Zoological Society, (1883, pp. 48, 194). I have also included the species recently described by Dr. Meyer, from specimens obtained by Mr. Reidel’s hunters, in the paper read by him at the Ornithological Congress ia Vienna in 1884, entitled, “ Neue und unbeniigend bekennte Végel Nester und Eier aus dem Ostindischen Archipel im Kénigl. Zool. Mus. zu Dresden.” Some of these species were also met with by myself, but T have in many cases not been able to recognise their distinctness from other previously described forms. As many of these differences of opinion have been the subject of discussion between Dr. Meyer and myself, I have thought it as well to reproduce my published remarks in the present appendix. I. ACCIPITRES. . ASTUR ALBIVENTRIS, Salvad. Urospizias albiventris, Salv., Meyer, loc. cit. . HALIZTUS LEUCOGASTER, Gm. Cuncuma leucogaster, Gm., Meyer, loc.. cit. . HALIASTUR GIRRENERA, Y. BAZA SUBCRISTATA, Gould. . PANDION LEUCOCEPHALUS, Gould. . CERCHNEIS MOLUCCENSIS, H. & J. Tinnunculus moluccensis, Sclater, loc. cit. . NINOX FORBESI, Sclater, loc. cit. Supra rufescenti-brunnea, fere unicolor, in alarum tectricibus et scapulari- bus fasciolis albis variegata; fronte et superciliis albis; alarum * See Reports of the Timor-laut Committee in Rep. Brit. Assoc, 1881, p. 127, 1882, p. 275, and 1883. ope poo -~] 56 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS G5 remigibus terreno-brunneis, nigro transfasciatis ; snbtus dorso concolor, mento albicante, ventre albo transfasciato ; tarsis, omnino plumosis, cum suhalaribus rufis unicoioribus ; alarum et caude pagina inferiore pallide corylino-brunnea nigro regulariter transfasciata; rostri nigri apice flavicante; digitis fuscis setis obtectis: lony. tota 11:0, ale 7:4, cauda 4:5, tarsi 1:3. Hab. Lutur, Timor-laut. ‘ Obs. Sp. quoad colores N. hantu maxime affinis, sed facie alba fasciis yentris albis, et alis subtus nigro vittatis diversa. ‘ a The single specimen of this Owl is a male, obtained at Lutur on August 9, 1881. It is noted: Irides golden; bill pale cinereous; feet pale yellow, covered with bristly hairs; soles of feet nearly orange.” I have dedicated this apparently distinct species to its discoverer, Mr. Henry O. Forbes, F.Z.S. 8. Strix sonorcuLa, Sclater. Supra terreno-fusca flavicante variegata, et punctis rotundis albis regulari- ter aspersa; disco faciali amplo albo, margine nigricanti-brunneo circumdato; macula antevculari nigricante; remigibus fuscis, nigro transfasciatis, in pozoniis externis fulvo maculatis et albido vermicu- latis; cauda nigricante, teniis quinque fulvis transfasciata et albido vermiculata; subtus alba, precipue in ventre maculis rotundis nigris Julvo cinctis aspersa, subalaribus ventre concoloribus ; tarsis postice fere omnino plumulis obtectis, antice digitos versus setis paucis obsitis ; rostro et pedibus carneis: long. tota 11°5, ale 8°5, caudce 3-5, tarsi 2°2. Hab. Larat, ins. Tenimberensem. Obs. Species novee-hollandie aftinis et ejusdem forme, sed crassitie valde minove, tarsorum plumis brevioribus et dorsi punctis rotundiori- bus distinguenda Mr. Sharpe, who has kindly examined the single skin of this Owl sent, is of opinion that it belongs to a species allied to Strix nove-hollandie, but easily recognisable by its inferiov size. The example was obtained on Larat on the 24th of September, 1882, and is labelled :—‘‘ Female: irides dark brown; bill, legs, and feet flesh- colour ; legs covered with flesh-coloured bristles.” Il. Psrrract. 9. TANYGNATHUS SUBAFFINIS, Sclater. Flavicanti-viridis, in pileo et capitis lateribus prasinus, in dorso postico ceruleo lavatus ; alis viridibus ; scapularium apicibus, campterio alari extus et tectricum majorum marginibus ceeruleis ; secundariorum tectri- cibus flavo marginatis; cauda supra viridi, apice flavicante, subtus obscure aurulenta ; subalaribus viridibus cceeruleo mixtis, alarum pagina inferiore nigricante ; rostro ruberrimo ; pedibus nigris ; long. tota 13:0, alee 9°5, caudee 6:0. Hub. Larat, ins. Tenimberensem. Obs. Species TJ. affini maxime affinis, sed dorso flavicante viridi vix ceeruleo lavato, diversa. The single specimen is a female, obtained in Larat on August 8, 1882. “ Trides cream-yellow, with inner ring of pale gamboge.” 10. GEOFFROIUS KEIENSIS, Salyad. G. timorlaoensis, Meyer, loc. cit. The Geoffrotus determined by Dr. Sclater to be G. heyensis (Salv.) has been eleyated into a new species, G. timorlaocensis by Dr. Meyer. IN TIMOR-LAUT. 307 He admits that the separation is based on very minute differences which, however, he believes will be found constant. “ Geoffroits [timor- lacensis|, G. keyensi, Salva., simillimus, sed minor et primarie extime pogonio externo virescenti diversus.” On comparing the Timor-laut birds with Ké specimens in the British Museum determined by Count Salvadori, the case stands as follows:—Timor-laut skins vary from 240-290 millim., while G. keyensis (Saly.) ranges from 235-255 millim. Length of wing in the former 165-170 millim., and in G. keyensis (Saly.) 175-185 millim. The tail is shorter in G. timorlaoensis than in G. keyensis; while the tarsus agrees in both. In Timor-laut speci- mens the external web of the outermost primary, where in the upper portion the colour is blue, and in the lower green, exactly agrees. with a specimen from Ké, of the Challenger collection, determined as G. keyensis by Salvadori. Both these are males. A female from Ké has the same region of this feather blue throughout its length; while a female from Timor-laut has a very narrow yellowish edge to the green- blue margin of the primary. A female obtained by the Challenger natu- ralists, also determined by Salvadori as G. keyensis, is identical in colo- _ration, while, lastly, the colour of the under surfaces of the wings can scarcely be detected to differ. It would appear, therefore, so far as the skins from Timor-laut and Ké, in the British Museum and in my own collection, afford material for forming an opinion, that these differential characters will not be found to have the constancy that Dr. Meyer has expected. The wing measurements certainly are less in Timor-laut specimens. It is probable that the differences in coloration are due to age only, and are not sufficient to separate the Ké from the Tenimber birds. [H. O. F.] jl. Eciectus RIEDELI, Meyer, P. Z. S. 1881, p. 917. Sclater, loc. cit. Poe Vale Dr. A. B. Meyer has accurately described the female of this fine species. All the green skins are marked “ g ,” and all the red “9.” The male not yet having been described, I give short diagnoses of both sexes. &. Late viridis, capite clariore, subcaudalibus flavicante tinclus ; sub- alaribus et hypochondriis coccineis ; campterio alari et remigum prima- riorum marginibus externis et secundariorum (extus dorso concolorum) apicibus ceruleis; alarum pagina inferiore nigra ; cauda supra viridi dorso concolori, subtus nigra, apice plus quam semipollicari abrupte flavo; rectrice una utrinque extima in pogonio exteriore ceruleo notato ; rostro superiore rubro, apice flavicante; inferiore nigro: long. totu 11°8, alz 8°7, caudx 4°6. 9. Rubro punicea, capite et corpore subtus coccineis ; crisso flavo ; camp- terio alari et remigum primariorum marginibus externis ceruleis; cauda supra ad basin viridi in rubrum transeunte, ad apicem late flava, subtus flava ad basin nigricante ; rostro niyro ; crassitie paulo minore. Hab. insulus Tenimberenses. Of the four skins in the present collection, two males (green)’are from Larat, and one male and one female from Lutur. As [have remarked (P. Z. 8. 1883, p. 49), there can be no longer any doubt that Eclectus riedeli ig quite a distinct species of the genus, characterised by the broad well-defined yellow tail-end of the male, and by the absence of the blue on the back of the neck and on the belly in the female. Neglecting LZ. westermanni and Eclectus cornelia, of which we do not know 308 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS the opposite sexes or the localities, we are now acquainted with both sexes and the patrie of four species of these anomalous Parrots, dis- tributed as follows :— (1) E. pectoralis (Salvad. op. cit. p. 197), of New Guinea and the Aru and Ké islands, extending to New Britain, New Ireland, and the Solomon Islands. (2) E. roratus (Salvad. p. 206), of the island group of Halmahera, ‘.e. Halmahera, Ternate, Batchian, Morty, and Obi. (3) #. cardinalis (Salvad. p. 210), of the island group of Ceram, ze. Ceram, Amboina, ana Boru. (4) EL. riedeli, of the Tenimber group. Ro ; The males of these four species are very similar in colouring; but with the help of Dr. Salvadori’s diagnosis of the first three we may separate them as follows: A. Majores: cauda supra ceeruleo yariegata. Cauda minus cerulea . : : : ‘ - (1) pectoralis. Cauda magis czerulea . . . : (2) roratus. B. Minores: cauda supra viridi, subtus nigra. Cauda apice angusto flavicante . : : . (8) cardinalis. Caudz fascia apicali distincte flava ; : - (4) riedeli. The female of ZF. riedeli, as already mentioned, is very easily distin- guished from the same sex of the first three species by the absence of the blue neck-band and of the blue on the abdomen. As regards its yellow under tail-coverts and yellow tail-end, it comes nearest to E. roratus. 12. Kos RETICULATA, S. Miill. 13. NEOPSITTACUS EUTELES, T. 14, CACATUA SANGUINEA, Gould. To my great surprise this Cacatua is not C. citrinocristata, as I had suspected. The original specimens of C. sanguinea were obtained at Port Essington in N. Australia; so that its occurrence in the Timor-laut group is not after all so very remarkable. III. Prcartz. 15. SAUROPATIS CHLORIS, Bodd. 16. 8. AUSTRALASIA and var. MINOR, Meyer, n. var. 17. S. sancta, V. & H. LY. PASSERES. 18. PirzorHyNcHUS casTUs, Sclater. Monarcha castus, Sel. P. Z. 8. 1883, loc. sup. cit. Supra niger ; pileo et regione auriculari albis, fronte et tenia nucham cingente nigris circumdatis; dorso summo teenie nuchali proximo, uropygio et tectricibus alarum minoribus cum scapularium marginibus externis albis; subtus albus, guttwre nigro, maculis tribus albis ornato ; cauda alba, rectricibus tribus externis albo late terminatis ; subalaribus et remigum pogoniis internis albis ; rostri plumbei tomiis albicantibus ; pedibus plumbeis: long. tota 5°7, alee 2°7, caudee 2°8. Hab. Lutur, Timor-laut. Obs, Affinis M, lewcoti, sed gula nigra distinctus. The single example is marked “Male: irides reddish brown; Dill lavender; legs and feet ditto; Sentember 1882:” IN TIMOR-LAUT. 399 HETERANAX, Sharpe, gen, nov. (€repos=alter, dva&=rex) is closely allied to the Australian genus Sizuwra ; but the bill is narrower, less flattened and strongly compressed, so that it is higher than broad at the notrils. 19. HETERANAX MUNDUS, Sclater. Monarcha mundus, Scl. P. Z. S., 1883, loc. cit. Supra obscure cinereus, fronte lato, capitis lateribus et tectricibus alarum totis nigris; subtus albus, mento et plaga gule media nigris; cauda nigra, rectiicum quatuor lateralium apicibus latis albis ; subalaribus albis, remigum pagina inferiore cinerea; rostro compresso, colore plumbeo, gonyde ascendente ; pedibus nigris; long. tota 6°0, alee 3:2, caudee 2°7. Hab. Ins. Tenimberenses, Larat et Yamdena. This species seems to be allied to M. moro- tensis, M. bernsteini and M. nigrimentum, but has an unusually compressed bill, of which ©P?2® SURFACE UPPER SURFACE a . eae OF BILL OF OF BILL OF the gonys is slightly curved upw ands. ee eA Ry ee 20. MoNARCHA NITIDUS, Salvadori. (WITH PERMISSION OF COUNCIL 21. RureipuRA HAMADRYAS, Sclater. OF ZOOL, SOC.) Supra castanea, in capite postico et cervice magis fuscescens, fronte dorso concolore ; subtus pallide cervina, torque gutturali nigro ; gula alba; alis caudaque nigricantibus, ilis rufo anguste marginatis ; hujus rectricibus externis cinerascente albo late terminatis ; rostro et pedibus nigris: long. tota 57, alee 2°3, caudee 3°2. Hiab. Larat, ins. Tenimberensem. Obs. Proxima &. dryadi (Gould, B. N. G. pt. ii. pl. 11), sed cervice postica rufescente nec fusca et alarum tectricibus rufo marginatis, dignoscenda. 22. RHIPIDURA FUSCO-RUFA, Sclater. Supra obscure terreno-fusca, in dorso rufescenti tincta ; alis nigricantibus, tectricum minorum apicibus et secundariorum marginibus externis late rufis; subtus rufa, mento et gutture toto ad medium pectus albis ; sub- alaribus rufis; remigum marginibus internis fulvis ; caudee nigricantis rectricibus tribus externis totis et paris proximi apicibus rufis ; rostro et pedibus nigris. Long. tota 7-0, ale 3:3, caude 34. Q. Mari similis. Hab. insulas Tenimberenses Larat, Molu et Lutur. Obs. Sp. rostro robusta late, cauda parum graduata fusco et rufo bipartita insignis. There are 14 specimens of this apparently new and very distinct Rhipidura in the collection, from the tbree localities above mentioned. The irides are marked “ dark brown,” and the legs and feet ‘ black.” The bill is broad and robust, and the rectrices but slightly graduated. the external being only about 0:4 inch shorter than the middle pair; so that the species would appear to come in the same division as Nos. 12 and 13 of Count Salvadori’s list. 23. RHIPIDURA OPISTHERYTHRA, Sclater. Supra cinerascco-fusca, dorso postico castaneo-rufa ; loris albidis alarum nigricantium marginibus externis rufescentibus ; subtus pallide fulva, gutture albo, crisso castaneo, hypochondriis rufescenti lavatis ; caudee elongate et valde grwiuate rectricibus rufescentibus, supra castaneo extus marginatis ; rostro superiore nigro, inferiore ad basin et ped ibus pallidis : long. tota 6'7, ale 3:4, caudee rectr. med. 3°8, ext. 2'5, tarsi 0°9. 360 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS Te Ee ee Hab. Insulas Tenimberenses Larat et Maru. Us Obs. Sp. gutture albo et dorso postico et crisso castaneis, sicut videtur, cile dignoscendo. : The two specimens of this species in the collection are both marked as 2; but the male would probably not differ in coloration. “ Irides dark brown; upper mandible sooty brown, lower mandible same at top, but pale flesh colour at base; feet lavender pink.” This species belongs to the section with small bill, and the tail- feathers much graduated, the outer pair being 1°3 in. shorter than the middle pair. Below, the tail is pale, rufous, the inner webs of the rectrices passing into blackish. Above, the outer tail-feathers are margined externally at their bases with the chestnut-red of the rump. —— 94. MyIAGRA FULVIVENTRIS, Sclater. Supra plumbea, capite et dorso nitore cceruleo tinctis ; alis et cauda fusco- nigricantibus ; subtus saturate castaneo-rufa, abdomine et subalaribus fulvis ; remigum marginibus interioribus albicantibus ; rostro et pedibus nigris : long. tota 5'8, ale 2:7, caudee 2°7. Hab. Uarat, ins. Tenimberensem. Obs. Proxima J/. rufigule ex Timor, sed ventre et subalaribus fulvis distinguenda. . “Trides dark brown, bill lavender-blue, legs and feet black:” The type was obtained in Larat on August 2nd, 1882; and others later. 25. Micka@cA HEMIXANTHA, Sclater. Supra flavicanti-olivacea ; alis caudaque fuscis dorsi colore marginatis, loris et linea superciliari obsoleta flavidis; macula auriculari fusca ; subtus flava, remigum marginibus internis albidis ; subalaribus flavis ; rostri fusci mandibula inferiore pallida ; pedibus nigris: long. tota 4°8 alee 2°9, caudee 21. Hab. Larat et Lutur. Obs. Species Pecilodryadi papuane, quoad colores, fere similis, sed, ut videtur, generi Micrece apponenda. ‘ 26. ARTAMIDES UNIMODUS, Sclater. Graucalus unimedus, P. Z. 8. 1883, p. 55. The collection contained two ma'es and three females of this species. The sexes are not quite similar, as wul be seen from the subjoined diagnoses. $ Cinereus ; fronte, loris et capitis lateribus cum gutture toto ad medium pectus ceneo-nigris ; alis et cauda nigris illis cinereo extus marginatis ; subalaribus pallide isabellinis; remigum pagina inferiore albicanti- cinerea ; rostro et pedibus nigris: long. tota 138°5, ale, 7°3, caude 6°5, tarsi 1°3. Q Mari similis, sed paulum obscurior et colore nigro nisi in loris carens ; crassitie paulo minore. Hab. Larat, ins. Tenimberensem. Obs. Species Graucalo cxruleo-griseo affinis, sed colore corporis cineras- centiore et remigibus intus non albis distinguenda. 27. A. TIMORLAOENSIS, Meyer, in ‘ Zeit. f. die Ges. Ornith.’ 1884, p. 10. 28. GRAUCALUS MELANOPS, V. & H. 29. LALAGE masTA, Sclater. Supra sericeo-nigra ; superciliis brevibus et uropygio albis; alis nigris, tectricibus minoribus et majoribus et secundariis albo late terminatis; corpore subtus, subalaribus et remigum pogoniis internis ad basin omnino : 4 IN TIMOR-LAUT. 361 albis ; cauda nigra, rectricibus duabus externis albo terminatis ; rostro ef pedibus nigris: long. tota 6*2, alee 3°7, caude 3°38. Hiab. Inss. 'Tenimberenses. Obs. Affinis L. atro-virenti et L. tricolori, sed superciliis curtis albis dividenda. 30. ARTAMUS LEUCOGASTER, Val. A. musschenbroeki, Meyer, loc. sup. cit. Hab. Larat, ins. Tenimberensem. Artamus musschenbroeki, is the name proposed by Dr. Meyer for the Timor-laut Wood-Swallow, which has been determined by Dr. Sclater as A, leucogaster, Val. (P. Z. 8. 1883, pp. 51 and 200). Of the Artamus from Dr. Meyer’s identical locality I have in my own collection three specimens. I have examited carefully seventeen others from different localities, in the very long series in the British Museum derived from (‘elebes, the Philip- pines, Sumatra, Java, Lombock, Flores, Timor, Batjian, Buru, Halmaheira, Goram, Aru, Batanta, and from N. Australia. The species in the Dresden Museum from the underlined localities are admitted by Dr. Meyer to belong to A. lJewcogaster. It is impossible to separate my Timor-laut skins from specimens collected in Zebu by the Challenger Expedition, and determined by Lord Tweeddale (P. Z S., 1877, pp. 544-545). The colour in both isabsolutely the same. Lord Tweeddale, however, remarks on the difference of dress—“one in which the upper plumage is of a light bluish and cinereous colour, the other where it is of a more smoky brown and bluish ash. ‘This does not seem to depend on sex; for one of these examples (Zebu 362) is marked ¢, while I possess a Luzon example exactly similar, which Dr. Meyer determined to bea @. The other Zebu example (No. 370) is marked ¢, and is in the paler bluish-grey attire.” ° I feel satisfied, after examining the specimens in the British Museum and in my own collection, that the difference in coloration is one duc to age, for in young birds, the plumage is lighter than in the adult state. Dr. Meyer’s observation that the dark mantle reaches, in Timor-laut skins only, just to the root of the tail, while in A. /ewcogaster it overlaps by about a centimetre, is, in as far as the series referred to enables an opinion to be formed, one not sufficiently constant to support specific separation. In several Timor-laut specimens examined, the dark plumage overlaps the tail more than 1 centimetre, and even more than in others from different parts of the Archipelago which have been hitherto recognised as 4. leucogaster. In skins of .4. lewcogaster from Mysol and Macassar, the mantle is just conterminous with the root of the tail. Really, however, the absolute constancy of these measurements can be determined only with accuracy in the flesh, for the way in which the skin is manipulated will increase or diminish them by several centimetres. The same holds with regard to another character given as differential—the greater amount, in Timor-laut specimens, of white on the rump and upper tail-coverts. In my own specimens tke white on the rump varies from 22-31 millim. in length, while in eight other skins from different regions of the Archipelago the range is from 26-32 millim., giving in the latter indeed a wider zone than in those from Timor-laut. In the long series of British Museum skins, the white tips of all but the two middle tail-feathers, another of Dr. Meyer’s differential characters, is quite inconstant. In several Timor-laut skins not only these two tail feathers, but several others of the remiges, are without a white band, while in some examples it is even less than in undisputed A. lewcogaster. In young birds the white tips are very pronounced, not on'the remiges only, but on the primaries and secondaries of the wing also. The Philippine (Zebu) birds, already 362 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS ‘eferre have the tips of the remiges quite as broad as in those from ee In 4 Lotbock specimen (“ ex Stevens 9 the tips of ail the feathers are white; a Batanta and a New-Holland specimen have no white tips at all; one from, Halmaheira and one from Buru (both from Mr. Wallace’s collection) except in one feather, have no white on the remiges ; yet all of them have been determined to be, and are undoubtedly A. leucogaster (Val.) (H. O. F.] 31, DIcRUROPSIS BRACTEATUS, Gould. 39. PACHYCEPHALA ARCTITORQUIS, Sclater, loc. cit, Pl. XIII. P. kebirensis, Meyer, op. sup. cit. P. riedelii, Meyer, op. sup. cit. ie. 4: Supra cinerea, alis caudaque nigris cinereo limbatis, pileo nucha et capitis lateribus nigris; subtus alba, torque jugulari angusto nigro 5, subalaribus et remigum marginibus interioribus albis ; rostro et pedibus nigris : long. tota 5°5, alx, 3°0, caude 2°2. Fem. Supra fusca, in pileo rufescens ; alis nigris eatus rufo limbatis ; subtus alba, obsolete nigro striata. Hab, Larat, ins. Tenimberensem. Dr. Meyer, in the paper referred to, has described two new species of Pachycephala, whose names are given above as synonyms. If he is correct in his determinations we have the curious fact that, notwithstanding my more thorough examination of a wider field, which included the region whence he obtained his birds, the whole series obtained by me contained no females of P. arctitorquis and no males of P. riedelii (were Dr. Meyer’s specimens sexed ?); while those who made the collection examined by Dr. Meyer, obtained in Babbar (an island at no great distance to the -W. of Yamdena) females of P. arctitorquis, and evidently no males (so recognised by Dr. Meyer), and females of P. kebirensis (Meyer), with- out one of its males. I daily saw the collections made in Timor-laut by the Amboinese hunters making this collection, and I feel confident that no species of Pachycephala—one of the groups I am particularly in- terested in—was cbtained by them which was not also in my collection. After comparing Dr. Meyer’s descriptions with the long series I have of this bird, nearly all of which Dr. Sclater had before him when writing his original description, and which contains birds in almost every stage of plumage, from the young bird to the fully adult, I have little hesita- tion in affirming that P. arctitorquis, (@ Meyer), from Timor-laut and Babbar, is but the immature male, and P. kebirensis (Meyer) the nearly fully adult female of P. arctitorquis, in which the colour of the bird when fully adult is black; while P. riedelii is a still younger female of the same species. From this it would seem clear to me that P. arctitorquis, Scl., occurs in Babbar also, for the examples before Dr. Meyer from that island were young males and immature females, while from Timor-laut he had adult males, immature males (¢, Meyer), and still younger. females (riedelii, Meyer). ([H. O. F.] 33. P. FUSCO-FLAVA, Sclater, loc. cit., Pl. XX VII.; Forbes, P. Z. S., 1883, pl. 588, Pl. LIII. Obs. Similis P. leucogastro, sed torque angusto distinguenda. The pair of these species were obtained in Larat, in the first week of August 1882. The iris is marked “reddish brown” in the male, and “dark brown” in the female; the feet “blue-black” in the male, and “Javender-pink ” in the female. 34. Dicmum ruLerpum, Sclater. (Figured in Gould’s ‘ Birds of New Guinea, part 16.) IN TIMOR-LAUT. 363 Supra nitide purpurascenti-nigrum ; subtus album coccineo perfusum ; hypochondrits olivaceo mixtis ; subalaribus et remigum pogoniis internis albis ; rostro et pedibus nigris: long. tota 3°6, ale 2:0, caude 1:1. Hab. Larat et Lutur. Obs. Similis ). keiensi et D. ignicolli, sed ventre toto coecineo perfuso distinctum. ‘Ihere are two “ male” examples of this Diccewm in the present collection —one from Larat (1.8.82) and one from Lutur (19.9.82). Both are labelled, ‘ Irides dark brown; legs and feet black.” 35. MYZOMELA ANNABELL&, Sclater ; fiig. in Gould, ‘B. N. Guin.,’ Pt. 16. Nigra; capite cum gutture toto undique et dorso postico coccineis ; ventre medio et remigum marginibus externis strictissimis olivaceis ; subalaribus et remigum pogoniis internis albis; rostro et pedibus nigris: long. tota 3°5, ale 2°0, caude 1°38. Hab. Lutur, Timor-laut. Obs. Sp. ad M. erythrocephalam et species huic affincs adjungenda, corpore coloris nigro et crassitie minore insignis. The single specimen was obtained September 22nd at Lutu. It is marked “ Male: irides dark brown: bill black; legs and feet dirty green.” I have named it by, request of the discoverer, after his wife, who accompanied him in his perilous travels. 36. STIGMATOPS SALVADORII, Meyer, op. cit. Stigmatops squamata, Salvad. Sclater, P. Z. 8., 1883, p. 198. Nectarinia sp. ine. Sclater, P. Z. 8., 1883, p. 51. One of the most frequently met with birds. Feeds at the cocoanut flowers. The [first instalment of the] collection contained two skins in bad condition (marked “ ?”) which I thought might probably be referable to a female of some species of Nectarinia. The [second instalment] comprehends nine specimens of the same bird of both sexes. It is evidently a Melipliagine bird of the genus Stigmatops, and, so far as I can tell, without actual comparison with the types, inseparable from S. squamata of Salvadori. This species was discovered by Rosenberg on Khor Island between the Ké group and Ceram-laut, and may therefore probably also occur in the ‘enimber group from which Khor lies not very far north. 37, PHILEMON TIMORLAOENSIS, Meyer. P. plumigenis, Sclater, P. Z. S., 1883, p. 199. Philemon timorlacensis is the name proposed by Dr. Meyer for the species designated P. plumigenis by Sclater (P. Z. 8., 1883, pp. 51 & 195). The Timor-laut bird certainly differs from that from Ké, but the differences are scarcely to be formulated in words. The Tenimber bird seems intermediate between the Buru and Ké birds. Dr. Gadow, in the 9th vol. of the Cat. of Birds, has not separated the species, nor has Mr. Sharpe, in the 16th part of Gould’s “ Birds of New Guinea,” though he has expressed doubts as to their identity. [H. 0. F.] 38. ZOSTEROFS GRISEIVENTRIS, Sclater. Supra lete viridis, annulo periophthalmico distincto albo ; alis caudaque nigricantibus viridi limbatis ; subtus pallide grisea, im ventre medio albicantior, gula et crisso flavis ; subalaribus et remigun marginibus internis albis, campterio flavido ; rostro pallide corneo, pedibus pallide fuscis ; long. tota 4°7, ale 2°5, caudee 1°7. Hab. Larat, Lutur, et Molu insulas Tenimberenses. There are sixteen specimens of this apparently new Zosterops in the 364 A NATURALIST’S WANDERINGS present collection, obtained at various dates in the localities above mentioned. ‘The irides are noted as “ reddish brown.” The species belongs to the group of Z. albiventris ; but appears to be distinguishable by its greyish abdomen, which is only whiter in the middle line. 39. GERYGONE DORSALIS, Sclater. Supra brunnescenti-castanea, alis caudaque nigris dorsi colore limbatis, pileo et nucha murino-brunneis ; subtus alba, hypochondriis rufescenti lavatis ; subalaribus albis; caudce rectricibus subtus in pogoniis interioribus nigricantibus macula versus apicem alba preeditis ; rostro et pedibus nigris : long. tota 4:0, alee 2-1, caude 1°6, tarsi 0'8. . Mari similis. Hab. Uarat, Lutur et Molu, insulas Tenimberenses. IT was rather uncertain as to the correct position of this little bird, which is quite distinct from anything that I am acquainted with; but Count Salvadori, to whom I have sent a skin for examination, kindly tells me it isa Gerygone. The bill is rather compressed, and the tarsi are long and slender. ‘he third, fourth, fifth, and sixth primaries are nearly equal and longest. The irides are noted as black. 40. ORIOLUS DECIPIENS, Sclater. Memeta decipiens, Scl. P. Z. 8., 1883. Fuscus fere, unicolor, superciliis albidis, pileo nigricanti striolato ; subtus paulo dilutior, gutture et cervice antica albis, preecipue ad latera nigro guttulatis; pectoris summi plumis quibusdam nigricanti striolatis ; regione auriculari nigricante ; rostro et pedibus nigris: long. tota 11°8, alee 6°5, caudce 5:0. Hab. Uarat, insulan’ Tenimberensem. Obs. Similis M. bouroensi, sed gula albida nigro transversim guttulata et pectoris summi plumis nigricanti striolatis distinguendus. Two specimens of this Mimeta, marked “irides dark brown,” are in the collection. They so closely resemble Philemon plumigenis in general appearance, that I had at first marked them as of that species. Cf. Wallace, P. Z. S., 1863, p. 26, on a similar case of mimicry in another species of this genus. 41. GEOCICHLA MACHIKI, H. O. Forbes. Geocichla sp. ine., Sclater, P. Z. S., 1883, loc. sup. cit. The species of Geocichla is an adult male, intermediate between Geocichla rubiginosa from Timor and G. erythronota from Celebes. The general colour of the upper parts is olive-brown, shading into slaty brown on the head and into chestnut on the rump and upper tail-coverts; lores white, car-coverts mottled white and slaty-brown; wings brown; lesser wing- coverts olive-brown, broadly tipped with white; imnermost secondaries russet-brown, obscurely tipped with white; tail-feathers russet-brown, the outer feathers on each side broadly tipped with dull white; chin, throat, and breast buffish white, the rest of the under parts white, the feathers on the flanks broadly tipped with crescentic spots of black; axillaries—basal half white, terminal half black; under wing-coverts— basal half brown, terminal half white; basal half of inner web. of secondaries ‘and basal portion of many of the primaries white; upper mandible sooty grey, lower yellow; irides ash-brown; legs, feet, and claws pale flesh-colour. Wing, 43 inches, tail 3-2, culmen 1:05, tarsus 1:4. (No. in collection 588 g.) I propose that this new species should bear the name G. machiki, as a small mark ofremembrance of Dr. Julius Machik, of Buda Pesth, Surgeon- 2 IN TIMOR-LAUT. 365 Captain in the Dutch Army, and of appreciation of his extreme kindness and hospitality, and of the greatest possible assistance rendered by him to me in Sumatra, and more especially in Amboina to my wife and myself, both before and after our return from the Tenimber Islands. Dr. Machik is well known in the Archipelago for his extensive collections of Molusca fishes, snakes, and insects. [H. O. F.] 42. GEOCICHLA SCHISTACEA, Meyer, op. cit. 43. Pirra vicorsu, Ged. fide Meyer. 44. MuniA mouucca, L. 45. ERYTHRURA TRICHROA, Kittl. 46, CALORNIS GULARIS, G. R. Gr. C. metallica, Sclater, P. Z. 8. loc. sup. cit. C. circumscripta, Meyer, op. sup. cit. The species of Calornis from the Tenimber Islands has been distin- guished from C. metallica as a new species, C. circumscripta by Dr. Meyer. 1 have a large series of skins in my collection, and that they belong to a species distinct from C. metallica is undoubted, and, as Dr. Meyer observes, they can, when mixed up with any number of species of Calornis, be un- hesitatingly picked out by the coloration of the throat. The throat-plumes in C. metallica are prominently longer and more mucronate than those in the Timor-laut specimens. ‘The violet of the mantle, however, contrary to the note of Dr. Meyer, has the blue-green reflexions observable in (’. metallica quite distinct in most of my specimens, if the eye be “ placed between the bird and the light” in position A, as described by Dr. Gadow (P. Z. 8. 1882, p. 409), that is with “the eye and the light almost in a level with the planes to be examined.”